Classical Music

D’ANGLEBERT Harpsichord Suites: No. 1 in G; No. 2 in g; No. 3 in d; No. 4 in D • Elizabeth Farr (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.570472 (2 CDs: 134:26)


Jean-Henry D’Anglebert (1629–1691) published only one book of his works, all of it for keyboard instruments, in 1689. It quickly became popular, appearing in a second, probably unauthorized edition, engraved in Amsterdam. Aside from the four suites that Farr has recorded here, it contained 15 dance transcriptions from Lully’s operas, four other transcriptions of anonymous origin, five fugues for organ on the same curiously angular subject, a Quatuor sur le Kyrie for organ, and a treatise on basso continuo. Though the composer wrote in his preface that he hoped to furnish at some future date existing works in other keys, they never found their way into print. More music written by D’Anglebert, however, has turned up in an autograph manuscript entitled Rés 89ter . It is believed to have been written largely in the composer’s hand, and includes 76 pieces, 54 of which are his transcriptions of lute music. Nine are earlier versions of his published works; four in C Major, were possibly meant for a second book; while the rest are pieces by Chambonnieres, Louis Couperin, Marin and Richard Marais.


So what Naxos and Farr have provided here is all of D’Anglebert’s original, extant, and known music for harpsichord, minus the four pieces in C Major. It is almost uniformly of substantial quality, favoring polyphonic mastery and fanciful invention in a lute style brisé over the richer vertical textures and descriptive pieces of other, later French Baroque musicians. It also possesses an expressively melancholy intimacy that brings to mind at times François Couperin.


There are other links to Couperin le Grand, as well. The most important for our purposes was their mutual insistence upon notational faithfulness in performance, without changes to tempo, rhythm, or further ornamentation. Couperin wrote as much in the Preface to his first volume: “I have already added all the necessary ornaments, and I have observed the correct vertical alignment of the notes.” James R. Anthony, in turn, remarked about D’Anglebert’s music in his French Baroque Music from Beaujoyeulx to Rameau that “the music is extremely travaillée ,” or worked up in a very detailed fashion. Just how worked up it is can be judged by D’Anglebert’s preface that provided an ornament table with 29 symbols, including some he invented, and many that he employed frequently throughout these pieces. (A copy of this table in Bach’s handwriting survives, indicating that he probably knew D’Anglebert’s work.)


Music as elaborate as this, with its rhetorical flourishes and pauses, could easily become mired in particulars. However, that’s not the case on this recording. Farr is very careful not to lose the forward pulse of the music while phrasing appropriately, as the Allemande in the G-Minor Suite illustrates. Nor does this force her into hectic tempos or rhythmic stiffness. The Courante II in G Minor, for example, shows how she can sustain an almost majestically gliding sense of movement in a piece played on the slow side of adagio (66 bps). Conversely, the Gigue I from the G Major Suite is a fast moderato (116 bps) treated with exceptional metrical flexibility, yet never loses its core dance-like element. It is this knife’s edge balance between rigidity and freeness, clarity of ornamentation and momentum, as much as it is a pursuit of clarity and loving sculpted phrasing that defines Farr’s performance on this release. She does a marvelous job, aided and abetted by a pair of fine instruments crafted by Keith Hill: a fine double manual harpsichord after François Blanchet, and a delicate lute harpsichord created using the description found in Adlung’s posthumously published Musica Mechanica Organoedi (1768).


Though each of these suites has been recorded by one or more harpsichordists other than Farr, I can find no instances of all four available in a single, current release. Byron Schenkman is both vital and distinguished on Centaur 2435, offering the Second Suite and excerpts from both other suites and the lute transcriptions. Céline Frisch is stylish if slightly less relaxed than Farr in the First Suite (minus the Gavotte and Minuet) and the Second on Alpha 74. She has the advantage of offering all five of the fugues, played on the organ, as well as several of the Lully transcriptions and the originals, performed by Café Zimmerman, of which Frisch is a founding member. Neither the Third nor the Fourth Suite is included, however. Barbara Maria Willi offers the First, Third, and Fourth Suites on Musicaphon 56827 (which I have not heard), but foregoes the Second. This makes the current set recommendable even if it weren’t such a delight to hear—which, fortunately, it is.


It only remains to note that the sound on this recording is bright but close, with none of the mechanism noise or over-reverberant hall sounds that sometimes bedevil harpsichord albums. Farr supplies excellent and lengthy notes focusing on the music, while Hill offers some background on both D’Anglebert’s own harpsichord, the instruments we hear, and the practice of ravalement , adding wood to extend either the treble and/or bass of an older instrument.


Full praise to Farr and Naxos for the good they’ve wrought here. Get this if you enjoy French Baroque harpsichord music.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Connolly’s is a distinguished addition to the catalogue.

In many respects Schumann is the archetype of the romantic artist: deeply influenced by literature, committed to powerfully intense emotions, creatively aware of the virtuosity of performers. He was himself a fine pianist, and the first twenty-three of his published compositions were for his own instrument. He then went on to match this achievement in the field of solo song, in which regard he became the true inheritor of Schubert’s mantle.

Another important aspect of Schumann’s creative nature was his fondness for creating large-scale compositions out of sequences of miniatures. He developed this trend in piano works such as Carnaval and Kreisleriana, and continued it in the vocal song-cycles, including for example Frauenliebe und -leben and the two groups of songs under the title Liederkreis (Opp. 24, 39).

All of these issues are germane to this collection of songs presented by Sarah Connolly with the expert support of Eugene Asti. Under the collective title 'Songs of Love and Loss', this Schumann programme includes two cycles from the great song year of 1840, the Liederkreis and Frauenliebe und –Leben. The remaining songs come from later in the composer’s life: the collection entitled Gedichte der Königin Maria Stuart Op.135, the beautiful short 'Requiem' from Op.90 and 'Mein schöner Stern!' Op.101 No.4. These show no falling-off in quality, despite the commonly-held view that his encroaching final illness undermined the quality of the composer’s later compositions.

There are abundant alternative performances of Frauenliebe und –Leben and the Liederkreis, but Sarah Connolly brings a distinguished addition to the catalogue. While many great artists have brought their insights to the former, a personal favourite is the 1996 Deutsche Grammophon disc by Anne-Sophie von Otter with Bengt Forsberg (445 881 2), while in the Op. 39 Liederkreis there is always the issue of whether a man’s voice is better. Among notable interpretations is that of Bryn Terfel, for instance, with Malcolm Martineau (again DG, 447 042 2). Therefore the excellent Sarah Connolly does not become an instant top recommendation, but she does have both the technique and the insight to do full justice to these great songs.

In Frauenliebe und –leben Connolly and Asti tend towards slower tempi, perhaps missing some degree of ardour, though a real highlight of their performance is 'Du Ring an meinem Finger', in which there is much intensity. The balance between voice and piano is nicely achieved by both the artists and the Chandos engineers, while the recording venue, Potton Hall in Suffolk, is a tried and tested acoustic well suited to chamber music and songs.

Although Connolly is not a native German speaker, her treatment of the language is assured and the treatment of the text abounds in all the subtleties the songs have to offer, with a vocal timbre that is rich and nicely in focus. The collaboration of the artists seems even better in the lesser-known songs. For instance Requiem moves to a convincing climax after a beautifully chaste opening phase, and the somewhat austere songs on poems attributed to Mary Queen of Scots have an intensity that is all their own. Perhaps her preference for slower tempi pays its strongest dividends here.

-- Terry Barfoot, MusicWeb International

It's usual to say, somewhat condescendingly, that Leroy Anderson was a great "light music" composer, but the fact is that he was a great composer. Period. The ability to write a memorable tune is priceless, as Brahms (no slouch in the tune department) recognized in speaking of Dvorák, and it more than compensates for any amount of failings in other departments. Anderson had remarkably few of those: his orchestrations are masterly, his craftsmanship always top-notch. The three suites included here (Scottish, Irish, and Alma Mater) are beautifully put together and incredibly catchy.

The vocal items (see work list above) are fetchingly sung by Kim Criswell and William Dazeley, and here receive their world premiere recordings. The program ends with one of Anderson's larger works, the dazzling Christmas Festival. Leonard Slatkin, an old hand in this music, conducts with unassuming mastery, and the BBC Concert Orchestra sounds entirely at home in the idiom. Very good engineering completes this delectable package. Like the rest of this series, this is definitely worth collecting.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

In comic operas there are stock figures. One of these is the bass, often conceited and self-important, silly or evil – or both – who often ends up being ridiculed, humiliated and has to humble himself. We first meet him in Uberto in Pergolesi’s La serva padrona, then in Il barbiere di Siviglia – Paisiello’s as well as Rossini’s – as Doctor Bartolo. Mustafa in L’Italiana in Algeri is a close relative, as is Don Magnifico in La Cenerentola. The eponymous anti-hero in Don Pasquale is also a pitiable character – the slimy Dulcamara in L’Elisir d’amore less so. Later in history Sir John in Verdi’s Falstaff is possibly the most complex character in this mould, thanks to Boito’s masterly condensation of Shakespeare’s portraits and Verdi’s music. He has predecessors: Salieri wrote a Falstaff before Verdi was even born. On German ground Otto Nicolai created a rather likeable character in Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor. In operas by Lortzing and Flotow we encounter similar second cousins. We shouldn’t forget Osmin in Die Entführung aus dem Serail either. A lesser known but well delineated relative within the German sphere is Abul Hassan Ali Ebn Bekar, the larger-than-life barber in Peter Cornelius’s Der Barbier von Bagdad. He isn’t an evil person, quite the contrary, but he is a big braggart and manages to make a mess of things. The plot goes back to a story from ‘The Arabian Nights’ and a condensed version goes something like this:

The young and rich Nureddin is deeply in love with Margiana, the daughter of the Cadi. His childhood friend, Bostana, arranges a meeting and Nureddin sends for Abul Hassan Ali Ebn Bekar, the best barber in town, to make him presentable. The barber is more interested in talking about his knowledge of art and science and Nureddin asks his servants to throw him out. The Barber turns furious and chases the servants, knife in hand, but some tactical flatteries makes him calm down and do his job. When Nureddin tells him about his approaching meeting, the barber gets so excited that he offers to accompany Nureddin. In the second act the two lovers meet but are disturbed by the sudden return of the Cadi. Nureddin hides and when the barber hears cries from a slave being punished he believes it is Nureddin and rushes into the house. Believing Nureddin to have been murdered he sends for the Caliph, who arrives. Nureddin is found and pressurised by the Caliph. The Cadi accepts that the young couple should be married. The verbose barber makes such an impression on the Caliph that he is invited to work for him.

Not one of literature’s masterworks, maybe, but much thinner and more incomprehensible librettos have been successfully set to music. Cornelius’s opera was not a success at the premiere on 15 December 1858 at Hoftheater in Weimar. The composer describes the disaster as follows:

‘My work had drawn a full house. The performance filled the evening and was excellent, splendid, considering the difficulties the work presents. Right from the start, the applause was accompanied by persistent hissing from a hired, well-organized and expediently distributed group that was unprecedented in the annals of Weimar … At the end there was a fight lasting ten minutes.’

The reason for the debacle was decidedly not the quality of the music or the play. This was a protest against the conductor of the evening, Franz Liszt, whose radical ideas were not to everybody’s liking – and it was successful. The production was taken off the repertoire and Liszt resigned and left Weimar for good. But the one who suffered the most was Cornelius, who never saw his opera staged again during his lifetime. It was revived about twenty years later, again with no success. In 1884 in Karlsruhe, Felix Mottl – who orchestrated Wagner’s Wesendonck-Lieder – presented it, but in truncated and altered form. It was not until 1904 that it was staged in its original shape. After that it was regarded as one of the best German comic operas – next to Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg according to some judges.

I hadn’t heard the opera before, although there exist two studio recordings. Columbia set it down in London in 1956 with Erich Leinsdorf conducting and a starry cast including Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Nicolai Gedda, Hermann Prey and with Oskar Czerwenka as the barber. In the early 1970s Heinrich Hollreiser recorded it with Sylvia Geszty, Adalbert Kraus, Bernd Weikl and with Karl Ridderbusch as the barber. There also seems to have been an even older, Vienna-based recording, from 1952.

What I knew from as far back as the early 1960s was the overture, which appeared now and then in recordings and on concerts. I remembered it as something quite different from the usual potpourri of melodies from the subsequent opera. This piece, with a playing time of over seven minutes, is symphonically constructed – a kind of symphonic poem in fact. It is artfully orchestrated with a lot of woodwind solos and an orchestral texture that is transparent and airy - more Mozartean than Wagnerian. What is more: the whole opera is permeated by this artfulness with impressive ensembles and powerful but still translucent choruses with some contrapuntal writing. On top of all this there is an atmospheric entr’acte opening act two, thematically built on the muezzin’s proclamation of prayer. It is the only music in the score with an oriental touch.

The proceedings are dominated by Nureddin and Abul Hassan Ali Ebn Bekar, the barber. Both singers are excellent. Horst R. Laubenthal, then at the beginning of a great international career – was born in 1939 and made his debut in 1967. He has a mellifluous lyric tenor, ideally suited to Mozart and the lyric German tenor roles. He is also a vivid actor. The fine love duet in act two is one of the high-spots in the opera. There he is especially winning, partnered by Helen Donath, who here manages to soften her voice a little – elsewhere she can be irritatingly acidulous. There is nothing sour about Hans Sotin’s impressive barber, however. This must be a dream role for a fruity bass and Sotin revels in the opportunities to make a show. His is a large, sonorous, warm and evenly produced voice of exceptional beauty. The very lowest notes – and he is required to sing quite a few of them – are somewhat sketchy but otherwise he is admirable. He produces ringing top notes that many a baritone should envy.

The rest of the cast are more or less comprimarios, but the young Dale Duesing – he was only 26 at the time – is a fine Caliph. Veteran Fritz Peter is a Cadi full of character and Marga Schiml – also still in her twenties – does what she can with Bostana’s role. The versatile Ferdinand Leitner, who had a special affinity with Mozart, obviously enjoys the score. He is well supported by the Cologne Radio forces. The male chorus has a field day in the riveting Hinaus aus Hof und Haus (CD 1 tr. 7), where they are ordered to throw the cackling barber out of the house.

The sound is what is to be expected from a 35-year-old radio recording: not very spectacular but well balanced. I wouldn’t have minded some more cue-points and a libretto should have been included. Not many listeners will be familiar with the work and the brief synopsis is no substitute.

Whether Der Barbier von Bagdad will ever be a standard work again is hard to prophesy – this kind of story has probably lost its attraction to latter-day generations. It is nevertheless rather amusing and the music definitely deserves a better fate than oblivion.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Technically brilliant and captivating - strongly recommended

Not long ago Christoph Graupner was little more than a name. He was mainly known for being one of the applicants for the position of Thomaskantor in Leipzig in succession to Johann Kuhnau. He was second on the town council’s list, and when the first, Georg Philipp Telemann, was not available after all, they turned to Graupner. His employer, the Landgrave of Hessen-Darmstadt, didn't want to let him go, and therefore Leipzig had to settle for - as it was called - 'mediocrity' in the person of Johann Sebastian Bach.
 
Some of Graupner's music has been recorded in the past, but it is only since the beginning of this century that some musicians have started to focus strongly on his oeuvre. The German conductor and keyboard player Siegbert Rampe recorded two discs of orchestral and chamber music with his ensemble Nova Stravaganza (MDG), and the Canadian harpsichordist Geneviève Soly is recording Graupner's keyboard music (Analekta). In his programme notes, Glen Wilson - himself a renowned harpsichordist and the former teacher of Naoko Akutagawa - refers to Graupner's "sterling reputation as a performer". A part of Graupner's keyboard music was published during his lifetime, but this disc mainly contains pieces which were never printed. And Wilson may be right in suggesting that the virtuosity of these pieces is such that they were mainly written for Graupner's own use.
 
The works here are called 'Partita' which is one of the terms used in Germany for a suite of dance movements. The standard structure of the suite was a sequence of allemande, courante, sarabande and gigue. But - like other composers - Graupner adapted the structure when he wanted. And so the Partita in A, which opens this disc, begins with a preludium, the sarabande - with double - is followed by a menuet and an aria with five variations, before closing with a gigue. Or rather, it does on this disc: it really ends with a Chaconne which is played later. The Partita in c minor doesn't have a gigue at all; again it opens with a praeludium, and after the sarabande we find a menuet and another aria with variations. The disc ends with a Partita which was the first of a series of Partitas which was planned to be published as 'The Four Seasons', but only this Partita, called 'Winter', has come down to us. It is not known whether Graupner for some reason didn't continue with this series or whether the other pieces have been lost. This work also starts with a praeludium, followed by allemande and courante, three menuets, an 'air en sarabande' and is closed with a 'bourrée en rondeau'.
 
As with many composers in Germany Graupner, both in his keyboard works and his orchestral music, is a representative of the 'mixed taste', a combination of French and Italian elements. The preludes are especially interesting because of their almost improvisatory nature. All of them are in two sections: the preludes of the Partitas in C minor and F minor begin with a slow section, followed by a fast second section. The prelude of the Partita in A is in fact a prelude and fugue, and bears the traces of  the 'stylus phantasticus' which was a feature of the North-German organ school. Graupner is more interested in counterpoint than some of his contemporaries. This shows the influence of his teacher, Johann Kuhnau, who thoroughly instructed him in counterpoint.
 
Naoko Akutagawa shows her impressive technical skills in this programme of pieces which are often very virtuosic. That is not only the case in the preludes, which are played with the appropriate touch of improvisation, but also in the large Chaconne - probably one of the longest in the 18th century. It is another bow to tradition in that it is a passacaille bass but slightly extended. It was originally part of the Partita in A which opens this disc, but played here independently. Ms Akutagawa plays it brilliantly with an intensity which never fades. Other highlights are the air with variations which ends the Partita in C minor and the three menuets from the Partita in F minor. She has a very good sense of the rhythm of the dance movements: listen, for instance, to the courante from the Partita in A. Only the menuets of the Partitas in A and in C minor could have been played with a little more elegance; Ms Akutagawa's performance is a bit too robust to my taste.
 
I mentioned some highlights in this recording, but in fact that is hardly necessary as this disc is captivating from beginning to end. If you are sceptical about the quality of a composer whose name hardly ever appears on the concert programmes of keyboard players, just purchase this disc. I am sure it will convince you that Graupner was a great composer whose name deserves to be mentioned in one breath with the likes of Telemann, Fasch, and - indeed - Johann Sebastian Bach. And it wouldn't surprise me at all if you end up looking for more. Thanks to Naoko Akutagawa and her wonderful recording.
 
-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International

Includes suite(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Baroque and Blue. Soloists: Roger Goldberg, Rainer Gepp, Andrè Schubert, Christiane Meininger.

Includes work(s) by Mario Pilati. Ensemble: Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra. Conductor: Adrianno.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

BACH English Suite No. 3. Partita No. 1 in B?: Gigue. BEETHOVEN Piano Sonata, “Appassionata.” SCHUMANN Symphonic Etudes • Rudolf Buchbinder (pn) • ORFEO 775 081 (78:34) Live: Salzburg 7/29/2004


Performances recorded live permit a spontaneity of expression to emerge that is often lacking in studio versions. Digital fixes are often absent from live renditions and are too often present in studio renditions. And the studio enables retakes of entire movements, which can result in a discontinuous conception of an entire work. But live includes “warts-and-all” of the moment.


Here we have Rudolf Buchbinder live from Salzburg before an enthusiastic audience, judging from the vigorous applause between pieces and at the conclusion. Buchbinder is not a common figure this side of the Atlantic, but he is a formidable pianist and musician well known throughout Europe. A former child prodigy now in his sixties, he has concertized and recorded extensively, but few of his recordings are available here (based on arkivmusic.com).


Except for a somewhat indulgent use of embellishments, Buchbinder’s playing of Bach’s Third English Suite is exemplary. His emphasis of the left hand parts in the repeats (compared with a somewhat subdued left hand in the first appearances) is a welcome approach. Buchbinder’s “Appassionata,” on the other hand (no pun here), is not exemplary, but is somewhat indulgent. The forte/piano contrasts and the energicos and their releases, built into the first movement by the composer, are exaggerated by Buchbinder, not grossly perhaps, but unwisely. One might say there is too much “ ata ” to feel the passion. The second movement variations are frequented by small inflections that Buchbinder seems to use to insert his personal stamp. I have always regarded this movement as one that speaks so well for itself that it is best when offered as plain and songful. The concluding movement shows Buchbinder at his best, giving the listener a tour de force finale to a tour de force sonata.


Schumann’s Symphonic Etudes is an extraordinary set of 18 brief variations (the final variation is not really brief) in C? Minor that comprise Schumann’s op. 13. On this disc, the five variations deleted by, presumably, Schumann some years after initial publication, but later restored by Brahms, are included. Buchbinder’s traversal of these variations is every bit as attractive as that of Alexis Weissenberg’s (also live), reviewed by me in 30:6. Although I prefer Weissenberg’s more poetic approach, Buchbinder’s ideas need to be heard by all.


This is a disc to own, warts and all, because of its spontaneity and its offering of a superb musician’s musical ideas about three major, all in the minor (key), pieces. The concluding Bach Gigue is an encore for an “in the major” change.


FANFARE: Burton Rothleder

This first volume in a projected series of Freitas Branco orchestral works nicely outlines his three principal styles. First, in the symphony, there is the influence of Franck and his school. This is so pronounced, particularly in the finale, that the result risks caricature. There is no need to describe the music in any further detail: if you love Franck's Symphony in D minor, then you'll also enjoy this work. It's a very, very good copy, closer to its model in sound and structure than many of the works of Franck's immediate contemporaries (Chausson, for example, or Dukas). If you forget the fact that the symphony was composed in 1924, you certainly would think you are hearing a French piece from the 1890s.

The Scherzo fantasque also betrays a French influence, this time of the impressionists, or perhaps Dukas, in its piquant use of a smallish orchestra with plenty of colorful percussion. Suite Alentejana No. 1 reveals Freitas Branco as an ethnic nationalist, recalling Falla, particularly in the ebullient concluding Fandango. It's a lovely work--but then all of this music is certainly worth getting to know, especially when the performances are this sympathetic and well recorded. Álvaro Cassuto is of course familiar to collectors from his series of orchestral works by Joly Braga Santos (one that I hope is ongoing--there's still come good stuff there). He's not only an authority on the Portuguese school, but he projects his knowledge of the composers and their various idioms with unfailing enthusiasm and stylishness, making this latest release an easy recommendation.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

DORNEL Suites, op. 1: No. 1 in a; No. 2 in A; No. 3 in 3; No. 4 in D; No. 5 in G; No. 6 in e • Musica Barocca (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.570826 (69:06)


We know very little about the life of Louis-Antoine Dornel, who lived from 1680 until approximately 1756 or 1757 (Naxos’s tray liner gives an incorrect date of 1765 but gets it right in the insert notes). He had appointments as organist at Ste Madeleine-en-la-Cité in Paris and the abbey of Ste Geneviève, as well as music master of the Académie Française, where he was required to write an annual motet for the feast of St Louis. His motets received praise in the Mercure de France , but none of them have survived.


The six works recorded here were published as Dornel’s op. 1, entitled Livre de symphonies contenant six suittes en trio pour les flutes, violins, hautbois, & c. avec Sonate en Quatuor . Each starts with either a prelude or a two-movement overture followed by four, five, or six dance movements. Dornel’s relative obscurity compared with his more-recorded late Baroque contemporaries apparently has nothing to do with his ability as a composer. The music here is inventive and enjoyable. However, I did find it better to listen to these works in a couple of sessions rather than straight through.


Part of the reason for this “ear fatigue” can, I think, be attributed to the interpretation. Musica Barocca’s playing is not at fault; the performances are excellent. But I question the decision to entrust the two solo lines to voice flute, a type of alto recorder. Although the score mentions flutes, violins, or oboes, there is, of course, no reason why interpreters cannot choose other solo instruments. But I found the voice flute to be a bit overwhelming after listening to a couple of these works, and would have welcomed some variety. Also, judging from scores I downloaded from the Internet, it appears that some of these works had to be transposed to be played by the voice flutes; the insert notes make no mention of this fact.


The recording does not include the Sonate en quatuor that was published as part of op. 1; there was not enough room on the disc for it. However, the Sonate can be found on a disc entitled “The Sultan and the Phoenix” on Signum, which includes works by seven other French Baroque composers. This is the first complete recording of the six suittes en trio ; I find only one of the suites available elsewhere on a Glossa recording. The music is worth getting to know, and the recording will provide enjoyment. But there is room for another recording using different solo instruments and with all works recorded in their original keys.


FANFARE: Ron Salemi

A splendid achievement. A strong case for English clarinet music.

Naxos has assembled an attractive collection of English clarinet works that are predominantly in a late-Romantic vein. It is hard to mention English clarinet music without references to Frederick Thurston, a student at the Royal College of Music (RCM), who was the greatest clarinettist of his generation. Thurston’s art inspired a large quantity of clarinet music from composers such as Bliss, Arnold, Ireland, Bax, Finzi, Rawsthorne and William Lloyd Webber.

The attractive opening score is from Edward German who, although writing in several genres, is mainly remembered today for his music for the stage; notably the comic opera Merrie England (1902). German’s Romance is the earliest score on the disc and clarinettist John Bradbury and pianist James Cryer provide a relaxing and well paced reading for this undemanding listening experience.

Composed in 1934 Bax’s Sonata two movement Sonata is dedicated to his friend Hugh Prew an amateur clarinettist. The premiere was given by Frederick Thurston and pianist Harriet Cohen at a recital of the London Contemporary Music Centre at the Cowdray Hall in 1935. In this interpretation the good humoured first movement Molto moderato is pervaded with nostalgic yearning. Largely brisk music the second movement Allegro Vivace is hectic and waspish with technical demands of considerable virtuosity required from John Bradbury.

Edwin Roxburgh was a composition pupil of Herbert Howells at the RCM and later studied with Nadia Boulanger in Paris and with Luigi Dallapiccola in Florence. The Four Wordsworth Miniatures, composed in 1998, were commissioned by Linda Merrick who premiered the score. The four movements have been given descriptive titles by the composer and these are narrated here as a preface to the performance. John Bradbury communicates a serious character to the opening miniature Calm Is The Fragrant Air whilst Waters On A Starry Night is frenetic and virtuosic. Thoughts That Do Often Lie Too Deep For Tears is yearning music that emanates from the lowest registers of the clarinet and in the final piece The Cataracts Blow Their Trumpet the soloist is in an upbeat and playful mood.

One of Gerald Finzi’s finest scores is his celebrated Clarinet Concerto composed for Thurston in 1948-49. His fondness for the clarinet is demonstrated the Five Bagatelles, Op. 23 written around a decade earlier (1938-43) and intended for clarinettist Pauline Juler. The attractive suite of five distinctive short movements has become a cornerstone of the clarinet repertoire and has been arranged into various alternative scorings. A bright and breezy Prelude contains a melancholic central section; Bradbury is sad and mournful in the Romance and the calm and engaging Carol has a strong nostalgic tinge. In the Forlana Bradbury and Cryer convey a fresh, outdoor feel and the light and brisk Fughetta makes for an optimistic conclusion.

William Hurlstone was a star composition student of Stanford at the RCM. In 1906 Hurlstone became Professor of Counterpoint at the College but his career was cut short later that year by his untimely death. A clarinettist himself, Hurlstone wrote his Four Characteristic Pieces for George Clinton in 1899, a suite that deserves to be a staple of the repertoire. The opening piece is the creative Ballade generously crammed with ideas and emotional contrasts. Bradbury and Cryer in this interpretation of the much admired Croon Song evoke comforting images of a domestic nature. The dance-like Intermezzo has a scurrying quality and the concluding Scherzo with its character of a fresh, cool breeze suggests a bracing walk on the hills.

We are told nothing in the booklet notes about composer Paul Patterson who I discovered studied trombone at the Royal Academy of Music before concentrating on composition. Patterson’s teachers were Richard Stoker, Elisabeth Lutyens and Richard Rodney Bennett. In 1994 he was selected to represent Britain in series of 50 works to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of Béla Bartók’s death. These were being broadcast by Hungarian radio on the European Broadcasting Union. Patterson’s contribution to the series is his single movement Soliloquy. This virtuosic showpiece for solo clarinet is a paraphrase on a theme from the fifth movement of Bartók’s 1943 Concerto for Orchestra. Bradbury awakens the Soliloquy from its generally carefree disposition with sporadic jazzy salvos demanding considerable skill and brilliance.

William Lloyd Webber was a student of Vaughan Williams at the RCM becoming in 1946 a professor at the college and teaching harmony and counterpoint. Lloyd Webber wrote a suite of six Country Impressions in 1960 for a variety of wind instruments with piano accompaniment. One of this series was Frensham Pond, Aquarelle. The picturesquely titled miniature Frensham Pond (not On Frensham Pond as stated in the notes) is to my ears one of the most attractive works that Lloyd Webber wrote. Frensham pond is situated close to Farnham in Surrey and in the score the players give a sunny and endearing performance that evokes a gentle impression of water, woodland and heath. At just over double the length of Frensham Pond, the earlier score Air and Variations bore a dedication to, "Frederick Thurston and his pupils at the RCM". With adroitness and affection the partners relish the variety of mood and Bradbury seems to savour the increased opportunity for virtuoso clarinet display.

Bliss, who also studied with Stanford at the RCM, developed into one of the most influential figures in British music and was regarded for some years as an enfant terrible. Following his knighthood in 1950 he was awarded the prestigious appointment as Master of the Queen’s Musick. The Battle of the Somme in 1916 tragically took the life of Bliss’s brother Kennard and the impressive Pastoral, a fitting lamentation for clarinet and piano, was composed soon after. Bliss clearly enjoyed writing for the clarinet and in 1932 wrote a well regarded Clarinet Quintet for Thurston. I consider the Pastoral to be one of Bliss’s finest works and the partnership of Bradbury and Cryer demonstrate their considerable affection for the score. One feels swept way on a tide of haunting emotion joining Bliss on a rare quasi-pastoral excursion.

Perhaps the finest performed and recorded rival version of English clarinet music likely to be encountered in the catalogues are from Thea King and Clifford Benson from 1989 at St George’s, Brandon Hill on Hyperion Dyad CDD22027. The Hyperion set duplicates the Finzi, Hurlstone and Bliss scores and is coupled with the Stanford Clarinet Sonata, Ferguson Four Short Pieces, Howells Clarinet Sonata, Reizenstein Arabesques and the Cooke Clarinet Sonata.

As usual I sound tested this disc on six or so different CD players before writing about the sound quality. This Naxos disc recorded at the Wathen Hall in Barnes was not one that immediately sounded appealing as on two of my players some peak level regulation was necessary to tone down the fierceness, although there were no problems with my other players. After the required adjustment I was left with a consistently warm and bright, clear and well balanced sound.

Hugh Prew was it seems the dedicatee of Bax’s Sonata and a member of the composer’s cricket team. This fact has inspired the author of the booklet notes to give over a whole page to cricket references in the form of a timeline that links the composition dates of the scores to key events in the English cricket year. The inclusion of these cricket statistics, extraneous to the music, seems to have been researched at the expense of relevant information on the actual scores. Unless I’m mistaken nowhere does it mention that both Roxburgh’s Four Wordsworth Miniatures and Patterson’s Soliloquy are works for solo clarinet not clarinet and piano.

This Naxos disc is a splendid achievement and clarinet soloist John Bradbury, supported by James Cryer, make a strong case for this collection of English clarinet music; much of which is rarely heard. I especially enjoyed Hurlstone’s delightful Four Characteristic Pieces and Finzi’s Five Bagatelles are sublime.

Michael Cookson, MusicWb International