"This splendid disc would make an ideal introduction to Russian Orthodox choral music for first-time listeners...There is no doubt of the fervent faith and commitment of the performers, which is convincingly transmitted by the high-definition recording."
—John Miller, SA-CD.net

"With performances as splendid as this, the Liturgy [Tchaikovsky] is likely to gain more of an audience in the West. The recording was made in the Church of the Transfiguration...and the gentle, warm reverberation seems perfectly suited to the program."
—Michael Cameron, Fanfare
"One of the successes of the Gloriae Dei Cantores in the field of sacred music is not undue attention to ancient performance practices or other such scholarly pursuits, but instead a love of and commitment to the spirit of the music as reflected in the spiritual intent of the composer. Their ability to migrate from one genre to the other with nary a wink and a nod is something quite phenomenal in this day and age...this spacious and well-balanced Super Audio sound adds a dimension of projection and sonic splendor that only doubles the value of this already much-desirable disc. Highest recommendation!"
—Steven Ritter, Audiophile Audition

A quiet, contemplative collection of Marian pieces, well sung and atmospheric.

We learn from the booklet accompanying this disc that the Zurich Boys’ Choir was founded in 1960 by its present conductor, Alphons von Aarburg. It is not attached to any church or school, but the boys meet to rehearse several times each week as well as participating in a “singing camp” during the school holidays. The disc was recorded some fifteen years ago, but the choir is still going strong, and indeed celebrates its fiftieth anniversary this year, still with the same conductor.

A glance at the program will confirm that this is a collection of contemplative music. There is a certain sameness of atmosphere as the program progresses, and the attentive listener will probably wish for a bit more variety. I hesitate to recommend it as background listening, so let me say instead that the mood it creates is more suited to quiet reflection than to undivided attention.

The programme is an interesting and inventive mix of well known and lesser known pieces. It opens with one of the best known of all, the famous Bach and Gounod joint effort. The notes seem to be suggesting that Gounod’s original adaptation of Bach’s Prelude was scored for harp, organ and solo violin, and though this was news to me there seems little reason to doubt it. The present performance adds a solo cello and two vocal parts, and may be a later version by Gounod himself, or indeed a hybrid concoction by the present performers. Either way, the opening notes from the harp come as a surprise, as do the two string soloists when they get in on the act. The soloist, Daniel Perrer, is excellent, and the choir sings perfectly well, but the scoring adds extra sweetener to an already sugary exercise. The cello and harp put in another appearance in Franck’s Panis angelicus, along with the organ, and whilst this may be a bona fide composer’s version - the choir in several parts in the canonic second verse - the effect is romantic and indulgent in a piece which can be very affecting when given simply.

Panis angelicus features some very pleasing solo tenor singing from Frieder Lang, and indeed his presence is one of the strong points of this collection. He is ably supported by the children in Franck’s rather lovely Ave Maria, and he turns in a most sensitive performance of an Ave Maria by Tosti. Another solo Ave Maria, by Arcadelt this time, is certainly beautifully sung, though the authentic performance purists might quibble at one or two stylistic points. I think they might not be totally satisfied with Schütz from Zurich either, at least not in 1995, rhythmically stolid and altogether too smooth for comfort.

The program features a masterpiece or two, not least the two sublime Bruckner motets. Ave Maria is given a good performance, as is Virgo Jesse, though to my ears the boys do not supply anything like the passion in the soprano line that both pieces require. Most adult choirs find it easier to provide this, and a group such as the Westminster Cathedral Choir manage to find both passion and restraint, a heady mixture. There are one or two slightly uncertain attacks in the upper register here too, and, for this listener, some unpleasant staccato and accented final syllables on the word “hallelujah”. In the Verdi piece, and judged by the standards of the finest children’s choirs, intonation is not always spot-on.

Reger’s lullaby, given in a two-part version unfamiliar to me, and again accompanied by the harp, is a particular pleasure. The Mozart, at a reasonably flowing tempo, goes as far as most performances in avoiding the morose atmosphere which can so easily invade this glorious piece. The harp appears again, along with the organ, in Schubert’s Ave Maria. The young Daniel Perrer again sings beautifully, but this really doesn’t sound much like Schubert. Then, that’s not the point of the disc, which will bring much pleasure to those who enjoy this kind of program.

-- William Hedley, MusicWeb International

DVORÁK Symphony No. 9, “From the New World.” SUK Pohádka, op. 16 • Bertrand de Billy, cond; Vienna RSO • OEHMS 745 (72:09)

There seems to be a never-ending river of recordings of Antonin Dvorák’s Symphony “From the New World.” This particular stream flows down the Danube from Vienna to upset my notion that I’d heard all that might be done with a work deservedly known as this composer’s masterpiece. I have accumulated more than a few recordings of it: LPs by Arturo Toscanini with the NBC SO and Rafael Kubelík and the VP; CDs by Alexander Titov and St. Petersburg’s O “New Philharmony,” Pavel Urbanek and the PFO, and Marin Alsop and the BSO. These recordings span over a half-century, exposing the diligent listener to shifts in orchestral styles and gradual improvement in recording technique. The most recent, by the Vienna RSO under Bertrand de Billy, is either the culmination of these trends and developments, or merely the most recent (an Oblomovian paradox, depending on how you look at it). De Billy’s reading has its own fascinations.

For some time I had come to view Urbanek and the PFO’s traditional reading my fave, until Alsop’s version, also in the grand tradition, with the BSO took the top spot on my list. This reranking was mostly owing to improvements in recording sophistication. Now, along comes Billy—pronounced Bee-Yee, as in Puilly (or Pwee-Yee) Fuissé—who is willing to take some unorthodox risks in his interpretation, and I find myself weakening. Fickle is the heart of the record reviewer (Ovid).

Surfing quotables in my volume of The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Music , I came upon a doozie. “Dvorák’s music is a particularly happy result of the major influences on his art: Wagner, Brahms, and folk music.” It encapsulates in one sentence a perhaps century-long conflict between the followers of Brahms and Wagner—an argument between Brahms’s pure music for its own sake and Wagner’s nationalistic music in service of the state. Or, in other terms, it highlights Brahms’s adherence to the classical forms vs. Wagner’s insistence upon totally new forms. Pardon this reduction to an oversimplified view, but to give both sides their due would take volumes. De Billy has a knack for bringing out the best in both points of view, to mine the series of big emotional moments and to honor adherence to form.

In the slow second movement’s second theme (4:40 in), there are passages that remind me of Wagner’s “Forest Murmurs,” and others of his original orchestral inventions. And then (8:00 in) the horns blare forth, not with the sustained force of Siegfried’s funeral music, but with enough force to prepossess one and call Wagner to mind. Shortly (at 9:30), there is a passage that reminds me of Brahms in its precise delicacy of the woodwinds. So, listening closely, one can hear Brahms and Wagner in this Dvorák Symphony. All through the work, de Billy uses subtle reversals of emphasis, bringing from background to foreground, or playing loudly what is usually played softly. Here, I must emphasize that de Billy does not choose to make such reversals each and every time the possibility arises. He is not slavishly doctrinaire about it; rather, he seems to decide on an ad hoc basis. All of the score’s notes are represented in performance, but their presentation is subtly changed, perhaps to be ironic and introduce a postmodern flair to the performance. He’s not telling.

Which brings to mind the following notion: certain music would retain its coherence even if parts were played in reverse. In Terry Riley’s In C , any musician may enter a bar and stay as long as he/she wishes by inventing variations on the notes in the score before moving on to the next bar as long as he/she remains in the key of C; and in certain of Bach’s pieces that were written for one instrument and then adapted ( by Bach ) to suit another, and owing to the qualities of one or the other (say, the slow organ instead of a quick harpsichord, with its faster action) can require more playing time to stretch out the score, and actually wind up much slower in performance though composed of the same notes. These are just two examples of music that is so formally strong the idiosyncrasies of performance can only add to its ambiance, hence interpretation, and give the music wider emotional scope to the listener and more opportunity for playfulness to the conductor.

By playing Dvorák’s very familiar “New World” Symphony with his personal vision of how some loud passages might be better if played softly, of how with the woodwinds “backing up” the strings, some passages might be bettered by emphasizing the winds and letting the strings serve as “back up.” Employing such stratagems, de Billy brings a new spotlight to the bas-relief of the score. By shining his spotlight at slightly different angles, he creates new relationships among the shadows. It is still the same Symphony, but with slightly different emphases in the presentation, de Billy has made it new. He has traded in a tired, if venerable, old warhorse for a high-spirited young one. To add to this, the recording engineering is very, very clear and crisp. On a high-resolution system, say a good headphones rig, you can hear every damned thing; and such a recording will bring out the best in nearly all stereo rigs.

I’m only familiar with one other recording of Josef Suk’s (Dvorák’s son-in-law) symphonic suite, Fairy Tale , and that one is played by Jirí Bêlohlávek and the Czech PO (1992) for Chandos. De Billy’s elapsed time for this piece is about 29:30, and Belohlávek’s is about 30:00. This makes the difference in elapsed times about 1.5 percent and pretty indistinguishable. De Billy’s version was recorded in 2008, and, owing to whatever technological advances, profits by each individual instrument’s better definition and the complete ensemble’s better balance. Suk was a very solid composer; though it was hard for him to step outside the shadow of his father-in-law, he does. Fairy Tale has considerable charm, and de Billy, aided by the ORF (Austrian National Radio) engineers, brings it to the fore more than his predecessor managed to do.

If you are the kind of record collector who is always on alert for the analogy to a very unique wine, like an Australian Rosé made from rich Shiraz grapes, you might like this album. It contains a richly flavored Dvorák Symphony “From the New World” at its best, and a zesty and charming Pohádka , both benefitting from very fine recording engineering. Highly recommended.

FANFARE: Ilya Oblomov

GE GAN-RU String Quartets: No. 1, “Fu”; No. 4, “Angel Suite”; No. 5, “Fall of Baghdad” • ModernWorks • NAXOS 8.570603 (60:44)


Prior to this review I’d read a short profile of the composer in the Times , and discovered for a substantial period of time he’d dropped out of sight to found a business that now supports him and allows him freedom to compose as he wishes. As such, he may be the “Chinese Charles Ives.” Whatever the reason, these three string quartets show his evolution over that time gap, with No. 1 from 1983, and Nos. 4 and 5 from 1998 and 2007, respectively.


No. 1, “Fu” (Prose Poem), is in a single movement, and while it uses a number of special techniques for strings, the influence of middle-period Bartók is most evident, at least to my ear. This was radical music in context for a young Chinese composer, but not necessarily for the outside world. But No. 4, “Angel Suite,” is an exceedingly rich and original piece. In a way, it shouldn’t be, as it references the Western classical tradition most overtly, and indeed has a strong scent of the last fin de siècle. But though I hear Debussy very strongly throughout (above all in the first movement), its movements—including a dark waltz and similarly unsettling march—remain so full of interesting ideas and details that a strong personality cannot help but emerge. I found this music totally engaging, with a “postmodern” take that was never ironic, facile, or pastichesque.


No. 5 is subtitled “The Fall of Baghdad.” In its reference to destruction “in time of war,” it’s an homage to George Crumb’s 1970 Black Angels, and it opens with similarly wrenching, screeching sounds. The second movement features an extended, distant viola melody that recalls a muzzein’s call to prayer, which after an interlude of sinister rhythms using col legno and pizzicato, returns to the stratosphere. The third, “Desolation,” has a heartrending violin solo over pianissimo chords that suggest the classic “voice crying in the wilderness.” (No more so than when dark crunching sounds are ripped from behind the instruments’ bridges.) While the work starts out a little too reminiscent of its inspiration, like all the works on this program, Ge is in the details. It takes a little time, but a new, personal music emerges without any enormous technical or stylistic breakthrough; this is actually an enormous accomplishment. And lest I sound too technical, the music’s conclusion is shattering. We’ve got real art here.


ModernWorks is a string quartet directed by cellist Madeline Shapiro. (The other players are Airi Yoshioka and Majuki Fukuhara, violins, and Veronica Salas, viola.) They interpret this music brilliantly, and they have done great service to music by advocating this creator. I hope this recording finds a large audience, or at least the right audience. This composer has something to say, and staying power.


FANFARE: Robert Carl

PROKOFIEV On Guard for Peace. 1 The Queen of Spades: Suite (elab. Berkeley) • Neeme Järvi, cond; Irina Tchistjakova (mez, nar); 1 Niall Docherty (boy sop); 1 Royal Scottish Natl O, Junior Ch, 1 Ch 1 • CHANDOS 10519 (66:05 Text and Translation)


Neeme Järvi has made a considerable reputation by conducting and recording music that is peripheral to the mainstream repertoire. In so doing, he does not have to compete with A-list conductors and makes listeners interested in this seldom performed music happy at the same time. When he ventures into the standard repertoire, the results are frequently mediocre at best (his Chandos Brahms symphonies are a case in point). Järvi can legitimately be called a Prokofiev specialist. His Chandos cycle of the complete Prokofiev symphonies was generally well received despite some pretty fierce high frequency harshness from a sonic standpoint. In keeping with his reputation, Järvi also recorded many obscure Prokofiev works as fillers, in addition to important albums featuring orchestral suites from The Stone Flower and War and Peace , among others. So, a CD containing The Queen of Spades Suite and the oratorio, On Guard for Peace , is hardly surprising.


The Queen of Spades is described on the album cover as a symphonic suite containing rediscovered music from an unrealized film score arranged and elaborated by Michael Berkeley. Clearly, from that description, this is not all pure Prokofiev. The lengthy but somewhat nebulous program notes confirm that Berkeley actually composed some of the music, and a portion of Prokofiev’s original material actually appeared elsewhere (for example, the second section is built on a melody also heard in the third movement of the composer’s Fifth Symphony). Not to worry. There is more than enough here to satisfy Prokofiev lovers, even if it is a bit of a pastiche that does not contain much of his most personally individual music. Berkeley succeeds in arranging all of it into a dramatically effective orchestral suite. This happens to be very appropriate because of the fact that Prokofiev is probably first and foremost a suite writer (as opposed to a natural symphonist like Shostakovich).


In the context of the political propaganda emerging from Russia at the time, the title On Guard for Peace does not sound promising. The orchestral contribution is fine and has Prokofiev’s unmistakable sound, but the fairly extensive narration (in Russian) is not very listener friendly. The vocal soloists aren’t much better, including a wobbly mezzo-soprano (who doubles as the narrator) and a boy soprano desperately searching for the correct pitch. The text is blatant propaganda (there is nothing like a children’s chorus to proclaim the party line joyfully). Some of it does sound a little bit like Alexander Nevsky and Ivan the Terrible , but the level of inspiration is infinitely lower. Järvi is quite ideal as a conductor of obscure Prokofiev, and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra seems to have those typical sonorities in their blood. The sound is typical for Chandos with a little haziness and high frequency harshness. Anyone who values Järvi’s Prokofiev series should enjoy this release.


FANFARE: Arthur Lintgen

Classical Music

“Jenkins is probably the finest English composer for instruments of the mid-seventeenth century” - Gramophone

Classical Music

Classical Music

I would agree that the Homenaje to the murdered poet Lorca was one of [Revueltas'] most significant achievements—a long trumpet-led lament curiously interspersed with vivid dance-like episodes ''like El Salon Mexico on mescal'', as Page remarks about the last of the enjoyably pungent (but also lyrical) Alcancias (perhaps ''expansive bullets'' though, bewilderingly enough, it can also mean ''piggy-banks'' or ''brothel keepers''!). These latter pieces are brilliantly played by the London Sinfonietta, which then sobers up for the austere Planos, which the composer described as ''functional architecture''. Ocho x rondo is a scherzo (with a gentler central section) for octet, perhaps more immediately striking is a Toccata from the same year (1933), which demands (and gets) virtuoso playing from a chamber group. Revueltas's best-known work, the snake-killing ritual Sensemaya, is taken by Mata at the same deliberate pace he adopted with the Bolivar Orchestra of Venezuela (Dorian, 11/93) but sounds more decorous at the hands of the New Philharmonia.

There is, however, nothing sedate, except, very properly, in the evocative and beautiful third movement (''Night in Yucatan''), about the performance by the Jalapa (or Xalapa) Symphony under Fuente (whose Sensemaya for Pickwick was reviewed in 12/93) of the four-movement suite drawn from the music for the film La noche de los Mayas: its finale, with an orgy of manic percussion and brass would almost rouse the dead (which presumably was the scene it accompanied). A fascinating disc.

-- Lionel Salter, Gramophone [2/1995]

Classical Music

TELEMANN Flute Concertos: in D, TWV 42:D6; in g, TWV 42:g2; in A, TWV 42:A3; in e, TWV 42:e3; in b, TWV 42:h1; in a, TWV 42:a2 • Claire Guimond (Baroque fl); Luc Beauséjour (hpd) (period instruments) • EARLY-MUSIC.COM 7755 (72: 19)


The six works recorded here were published in Hamburg around 1715–20 with the title Six Concerts and Six Suites for Harpsichord and Flute, or for Harpsichord, Flute and Cello, or for Violin, Flute and Cello or Basso Continuo, or for Harpsichord, Violin, Flute, and Cello. This was obviously an attempt to market these works to as wide an audience as possible. Guimond and Beauséjour contend that Telemann’s original intention was to compose these works for harpsichord and flute, which is the way they are performed here. The flute and harpsichord engage as two equal voices. The “concertos” or “concerts” of the title do not imply a work for solo instrument and orchestra. Rather, they are more closely related to the trio sonata, written in the sonata da chiesa style of four movements, slow-fast-slow-fast.


These six works display Telemann’s ability to write genial, attractive music, though it must be admitted they are not among the most compelling compositions to flow from Telemann’s ready pen. Guimond plays with grace and has good control of her instrument. Beauséjour provides excellent support.


These concertos are not available elsewhere as a group; I only found one concerto otherwise available. This is certainly not an essential purchase, but it makes for pleasant listening.


FANFARE: Ron Salemi

Classical Music

As James MacMillan celebrates his 50th birthday he here conducts his large-scale, complex work, The Quickening coupled with the symphonic suite The Sacrifice: Three Interludes, taken from his opera, The Sacrifice, a work based on a medieval Welsh tale and focusing on issues of love and conflict. Co-commissioned by the BBC Proms and the Philadelphia Orchestra, The Quickening sets poetry by MacMillan's frequent collaborator Michael Symmons Roberts. Hailed as some of the most distinguished writing since that of Benjamin Britten, the powerfully imaginative score explores the themes of birth, new life and new impulses, but as MacMillan says, it also has its dark side out of which hope is glimpsed. Joining the BBC Philharmonic is the Hilliard Ensemble, who premiered the work at the BBC Proms, accompanied by the City of Birmingham Symphony Chorus and Youth Chorus. MacMillan was awarded the 2008 Royal Philharmonic Society Opera and Music Theatre Award The Sacrifice following its premiere in September 2007 by Welsh National Opera. As did Britten in the now famous Four Sea Interludes from his opera Peter Grimes, MacMillan uses the Interludes as opportunities to withdraw from and reflect on the action, and he says, 'the orchestra provides another dimension to the narrative and to the drama, which allows the imagination to travel deeper or in a different direction.' James MacMillan is one of the UK's leading contemporary composers, and several of his earlier compositions are available on Chandos under his direction, including The Confessions of Isobel Gowdie (Classic FM Award winner), and The Berserking. Also available: CHAN 10092, 10275, 10377, 9997.

Goldilocks strikes gold. Undeservedly neglected light music.

What a pleasure to hear such jolly upbeat music. Leroy Anderson’s Goldilocks music lifts the spirits right from the start. This, the fifth album in the Naxos Anderson series, concentrates almost entirely on his music for the 1958 Broadway musical. Alas it was not a success; it expired after only 161 performances. The book took most of the blame. The show’s title Goldilocks probably didn’t help it much either and at that time there was a lot of competition on Broadway including: West Side Story, The Music Man and My Fair Lady. But Leroy Anderson’s music was mostly praised.

The Goldilocks Overture sparkles; all the excerpt numbers are little gems. ‘One Good Kiss Deserves Another’ has a winning melody. William Dazely singing nicely in the ballad style of the period and is joined by a nicely coy Kim Criswell. ‘Shall I Take My Heart and Go’ is another lovely, dreamily-romantic ballad. This number is also reprised separately as an instrumental item. These two songs alone, one feels, should have ensured the success of Goldilocks especially as presented here. But this 70+ reviewer is an unashamed romantic and a lover of the musicals of this period.

Additionally there is: ‘The Pussy Foot’, a terrific swing number that will set your feet a-tapping. The ‘Pirate Dance’ bounces cheekily along, tongue-in-cheek redolent of all those Tyrone Power and Errol Flynn swashbucklers of that period. The droll ‘Who’s Been Sitting in My Chair’ is quite unlike Eric Coates’s Three Bears, rather it begins in Old-English rustic style before developing into a burlesque-like number - apparently in the show Maggie actually dances to it with a guy in a bear suit. The memorable ‘The Lady-in-Waiting Ballet’ is a quintessential Leroy Anderson with its sweeping, swinging waltz tune. ‘The Lady in Waiting Waltz’ (played later, separately) glistens and it has witty allusions to Richard Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegel and Der Rosenkavalier. ‘The Town Maxixe’ is an easy-going number that swings along interrupted by material reminiscent of old-style madrigal tunes. ‘I Never Knew When’ is another appealing romantic ballad, but without vocals, beginning almost Arabian Nights-like before developing into smoochiness. The ‘Pyramid Dance’ is all exuberance, bouncing and rushing along, a sort of mix of Khachaturian and Rimsky-Korsakov.

Followers of the reviews of the preceding four volumes in this series will no doubt remember that Leroy Anderson arranged a number of suites of carols for different combinations of instruments - the others were for strings and brass. This collection,

for wind instruments, comprises: ‘Angels in our Fields’, ‘O Sanctissima’; ‘O come, O come Emmanuel, O come’ (an inspired little pastorale); ‘Little Children’; ‘Coventry Carol’; and ‘Patapan’.

As before Leonard Slatkin and the BBC Concert Orchestra offer polished, genial readings full of joie de vivre.

Goldilocks strikes gold. Undeservedly neglected light music.

-- Ian Lace, MusicWeb International