The Scottish pianist Ronald Stevenson, now 86, is the Grand Old Man of Scottish music. A composer-performer in the grand tradition of Beethoven, Chopin and Rachmaninov, he has written a huge quantity of music for his own instrument, the piano, ranging from tiny miniatures to his best-known work, the monumental Passacaglia on DSCH. This first of a series of recordings by the young Scottish pianist Christopher Guild, strong advocate of contemporary and lesser- known repertoire, begins with an album inspired by the music of Scotland itself and its Celtic neighbor, Ireland.

The revival of interest in the music of Robin Milford (1903–59) has largely bypassed his exquisite chamber music, an omission this recording seeks to redress. It presents some of his most attractive chamber works, showing his very personal – and very English – combination of melodic freshness, elegiac lyricism and echoes of folksong. The clarinetist Robert Plane has been described as the ‘current occupier of the shoes of the late Thea King in his championship of British clarinet music’. Other notable performers include violinist Lucy Gould, violist David Adams and cellist Alice Neary.

The piano music of the Czech-born composer Antoine Reicha (1770–1836) – friend of Haydn and Beethoven, teacher of Berlioz, Liszt, Franck and many others – is one of the best-kept secrets in music. He was an important influence on composers of the next generation but apart from an innovative set of fugues his piano works have remained almost unknown since his own day. Encompassing Baroque practices as well as looking forward to the twentieth century, they are full of harmonic and other surprises that show this liveliest of musical minds at work. Reicha’s twenty Études ou Exercices, recorded here for the first time, manage to combine his maverick inventiveness with a considerable degree of charm.

The piano works of the Czech-born composer Antoine Recha - friend of Haydn and Beethoven, teacher of Berlioz, Liszt and Franck - are one of hte best-kept secrets in music. He was an important influence on composers of the next generation but, apart from an innovative set of fugues, his piano works have remained almost unknown since his own day. Encompassing Baroque practices as well as looking forward to the twentieth century, they are full o fharmonic and other surprises that show this liveliest of minds at work. The massive variation-set on a simple French gavotte recorded here for the first time reveals a composer who tempers his learning with a vivid sense of humor. Henrik Lowenmark is the world authority on the piano music of Reicha. He was born in Gothenburg and educated at the university there but has long since lived in Stockholm. Since his graduation he has been active as freelance musician in a multitude of contexts: solo, chamber, accompaniment and song-coaching. In 2006, he finished his master's thesis, The Piano Music of Anton Reicha, at the University of Gothenburg.

Czech-born composer Antoine Reicha (1770-1836) was an extremely influential influence on composers of the late 19th century. His own compositions, however, fell into obscurity in the shadows of his contemporaries Haydn and Beethoven. This release, compiling Reicha’s complete piano works, displays his usage of both Baroque compositional practices and of compositional practices that would look forward into the twentieth century. An international authority on the piano works of Reicha, Henrik Lowenmark is a Stockholm-based musician who is active as a solo artist, accompanist, and chamber musician.

RAYKHELSON Piano Concerto in g 1. Cello Concerto in b 2 • Hobart Earle, cond; 1 Boris Berezovsky (pn); 2 Alexander Kniazev (vc); Russian St SO • TOCCATA 0219 (59:24)


This constitutes the third volume of orchestral music by Igor Raykhelson (born in St. Petersburg in 1961). Lynn René Bailey in Fanfare 31:5 was less than complimentary about a disc of four orchestral works; Gavin Dixon gave a more detailed review of the violin and viola concertos in Fanfare 36: 2. It is easy to see where the “problem” might lie: There is an unashamed Romanticism to this very recent music. Raykhelson is certainly not the only composer to act in this fashion: Rachmaninoff (of whom more later) is a prime example of going against a prevailing tide. The plurality of expressive means currently available to composers precludes an accusation that Raykhelson is swimming against any tide, perhaps, but the point that this music is generally easily approachable should be made. The result is actually two highly expressive, expertly conceived and executed concertos, heard here in committed performances by their respective dedicatees.


This disc presents the 2008 revised, four-movement version of the piano concerto, dedicated to Berezovsky (the date of composition is given as 2007 on the back tray card, which is the date of the original version). The dark clouds of the first movement coupled with its tonal basis place the music firmly around Russia. Gestures that could have come straight from Rachmaninoff’s pen seem somehow at odds with the fact that the music is not overtly virtuosic. There are appealing Tchaikovskian woodwind echoes to the tail end of phrases. Some gestures can veer towards film music, and the first movement ends rather abruptly. Yet the second movement Grave is impressive, in essence a funeral march that holds some truly impressive quiet playing from Berezovsky. Whereas the initial two movements aspire to 12 minutes’ duration apiece, the third movement Scherzo is a mere 2:55. Here, Raykhelson’s jazz interests come to the fore, where they meet Stravinskian angularity. The excellent booklet annotator, the recently deceased Malcolm MacDonald, is right to invoke Kapustin in connection with Raykhelson’s expressive palette; one might add that a sprinkling of Mendelssohnian fairy dust has been added in regard to the scherzo. MacDonald is right, again, to identify a Gallic whiff to parts of the finale. The performance throughout is excellent, with Berezovsky’s rightly famous technique standing him in good stead in the third movement.


The Cello Concerto (2010) is played by the excellent Alexander Kniazev, who also gave the first performance of Raykhelson’s Cello Sonata in 2001; a decade later, he premiered the present concerto. Kniazev’s playing is beautifully expressive, which stands him in good stead for the long-breathed Moderato mosso first movement (a movement aptly subtitled “Poem”). This is a hyper-expressive, long-limbed movement that is beautifully orchestrated. The limping gait of the ensuing Allegro is most appealing, but the heart of the piece is the 10-minute Adagio, which appears to these ears at least to be a working through of a crisis of some sort. Kniazev is massively eloquent here, his mezza voce lines making maximal impact. The angular finale contains the most dissonant music of the disc.


This is a fascinating program of first recordings of music by a composer whose music exudes an audible freshness.


FANFARE: Colin Clarke

RAMEAU Suites: No. 4 in A/a; No. 5 in G/g. La Dauphine. Les petits marteaux. RAMEAU-GUTMAN Pièces de clavecin en concerts: Concert No. 5 in D/d. RAMEAU-BALBASTRE Pigmalion: Giga • Stephen Gutman (pn) • TOCCATA 0052 (68:48)


I am always overjoyed to hear a new recording of Rameau’s keyboard music performed on the piano; it is a repertoire which I find completely underappreciated by most pianists today who favor the works of either Bach or Scarlatti for their recital programs. For whatever the inexplicable reasons, it is both their loss in playing this repertoire and ours in hearing it performed on an instrument capable of such tonal nuances as benefits this music. That said: This is the third and last of Stephen Gutman’s recordings of the complete keyboard music of this master, but only the first that I’ve heard. After playing this disc over and over again this month, I’ll be sure to run—not walk!—to my nearest shop to obtain the first two releases which I’ve missed out on thus far.


Luckily for me, Gutman here performs two of Rameau’s greatest keyboard suites—the one in A-Minor/Major, which ends with the virtuosic Gavotte with six variations (or doubles as he labels them), most likely modeled on the “Air and Variations” from Handel’s D-Minor Suite, and the one in G Major/Minor, which includes some of the most famous of Rameau’s excerpted pieces—“La poule,” “Les sauvages,” “L’enharmonique,” and “L’egiptienne,” among others. From the very first notes of the opening A-Minor Allemande, the pianist’s sense of exploration, his wide tonal palette, and his rhythmic freedom can all be heard to good advantage, along with his intimate and scholarly knowledge of these works—from correct ornamentation to matters of tempo. Importantly, the pianist looks to characterize each of these movements in their own particular way, and does so well—from the serious Courante to the intimate Sarabande, from the athletic and virtuosic “Les trois mains” to the exuberant and joyful “La triomphant.” Perhaps the only aspect I miss a bit comes in the concluding Gavotte, where just a bit more bombast could surely do no harm; here the minute characterization of each variation takes away from the inherent drive to the end which should pervade the entire set. As the following Suite in G is comprised of mostly named movements— à la Couperin—it benefits even more so from Gutman’s quick and profound characterization: “La poule,” being one of the best examples, demonstrates just how quickly he can portray these musical numbers. From the opening repeated-note gesture one is pulled in, only to be startled by the quick flourishes which drive the music forward. The ornaments found throughout the piece are hardly simple trills or mordents—rather, they are sounds of the hen herself. Though “Les sauvages” could be a bit more brutal in character, the pianist’s tendency to emphasize the gallant and graceful aspects in the music is in keeping with the age. “L’egiptienne” makes for a mysterious, yet rousing, conclusion.


The other works here include two transcriptions—one made by Gutman of the Concert No. 5 from the Pièces de clavecin en concerts , which includes three movements (“La Forqueray,” “La Cupis,” and “La Marais”) and the Giga from Pigmalion , possibly transcribed by one Claude-Bénigne Balbastre. Of the two works, the former is the more impressive piece, originally conceived, as is was, for a chamber ensemble of strings and keyboard; the opening work, “La Forqueray,” is actually a four-part fugue, which Gutman carefully choreographs for performance on a single keyboard—no small feat! While there are, of course, interesting little details left out, Gutman is careful to capture the most important aspects of the piece, in both transcription and performance.


Throughout this very fine recital Gutman proves himself a guide of the first order—not only does he understand this music both inside and out, he never allows the scholar in him to inhibit the performer; rather he uses the knowledge to bring out the best in this music. And while I may have my quibbles about matters of performance, there is hardly a movement in the entire recital that will not charm and delight the most judgmental of listeners. Recorded in generally good, though somewhat dry, sound and accompanied by excellent program notes (both by Graham Sadler and the pianist himself), this is a release to savor. Recommended.


FANFARE: Scott Noriega

Includes suite(s) for harpsichord by Jean-Philippe Rameau. Soloist: Stephen Gutman.

This release includes one of Joachim Raff's major chamber works, the sonata for Cello and Piano of 1973, in its first recording. All the pieces here underline the importance of melody in Raff's music. This anthology is a treasure trove of lovely tunes, which Raff can spin with Schumannesque urgency and Schubertian charm.

Mexican composer Manuel Maria Ponce is best known for a handful of popular songs and guitar pieces, and yet he left a huge legacy of some 500 works- orchestral, chamber, and piano music, art songs, and folksong arrangements. These works together form the foundation of the Mexican national repertoire, and yet they are as good as unknown. The works recorded here- some for the first time- reveal a composer with a surefooted command of the orchestra: his early impressionism is infused with echoes of Mexican indigenous culture in textures of unsuspected richness. Jose Miramontes Zapata graduated from the Rimsky-Korsakov Conservatoire in Leningrad. He has worked as pianist, choir director, and cultural manager. In 2000 he founded the Orquesta Sinfonica de San Luis Potosi and as artistic director and principal conductor he has promoted many choral and orchestral activities with local young musicians, developing a constant cultural growth in San Luis Potosi with more than 80 concerts per year. The San Luis Potosi Symphony Orchestra occupies an important role in the diffusion of Mexican symphonic music, with concerts in some of the major halls in Mexico, China, and Europe. Further releases of major Mexican symphonic works are in preparation with Toccata Classics.

George Frederick Pinto (1785-1806) was a child prodigy both as performer- on violin and piano- and as composer. Sometimes he was referred to as “the British Mozart.” He was only twenty when he died, probably from tuberculosis or from what one writer called ‘dissipation.’ He is thus one of the major ‘what-ifs’ of music history: the music he composed in the little time he had reveals a composer as gifted as almost any of his contemporaries. These three quirky and inventive violin sonatas- receiving their first recordings here- sit on the cusp of Romanticism, their Classical elegance warmed by a graceful lyricism that looks forward to Schubert.

"It exudes a buzzing energy that is wonderfully invigorating...A truly superb disc, beautifully engineered."

PICKARD String Quartets Nos. 1 and 5 • Brodowski Qrt • TOCCATA 0197 (64:08)


My previous Pickard review, in Fanfare 36:4, covered Toccata Classics’ enterprising first installment of the music of John Pickard. Here is the second volume, which effectively acts as confirmation of Pickard as a composer of original voice and deft compositional technique. There is a Bergian combination of lyricism and angst that underlies much of the writing of the String Quartet No. 1 of 1991 (particularly the intense second section, but also in the shadowy Prestissimo of the eighth); yet the impression is simultaneously that of a folkloric longing of a lost past. The piece is in 10 short sections (including two fugues), each of which manages to say huge amounts in small time-spans. The Brodowski Quartet (2008 winners of the Royal Overseas League Competition) plays with huge conviction and massive technical security.


The Fifth Quartet was premiered in April 2013, and represents Pickard’s first quartet after a five-year absence from this genre. Although shorter than the First (some 26 minutes as opposed to 38), it is no slip of a piece. And yet, the impression is of a new concise way of expression. The tense, serious, shifting opening houses kinetic energy that is pent up like a coiled spring. As that energy uncoils, the performance by the Brodowski Quartet reaches almost unbearable levels of intensity; the “Desolato” movement that follows offers relief from ongoing movement, but little more. The heaviness of the emotion is palpable, especially in as heartfelt a performance as this one. It is easy to get dragged in, not to notice how exquisitely the textures are balanced, or how sweetly the phrases are tapered. Pickard’s Fifth Quartet is a magnificent creation, perfectly proportioned, almost classically so, and yet containing a wealth of feeling. The pizzicatos of the third and central movement (there are five) are superbly done here, descending gestures like falling rain. The fourth movement certainly lives up to its title (“Drammatico”), but also seems to be trying to find a voice by trying out different instrumental combinations. The intense and fraught Finale seems the perfect end, technically challenging yet not overtly virtuoso. Rather, it exudes a buzzing energy that is wonderfully invigorating.


A truly superb disc, beautifully engineered (it was recorded in St Paul’s Church, New Southgate, London). Volume Two of Pickard’s chamber music is in every way as impressive as Volume One—perhaps more so.


FANFARE: Colin Clarke

The American composer George Antheil (1900–59) enjoyed the sobriquet ‘the Bad Boy of Music’ thanks to the mechanistic scores of his early career. This anthology of piano music from the last twenty years of his life reveals a muse that could also be affectionate, flirtatious and capricious – but the ‘Bad Boy’ occasionally re-emerged, as in the diabolical mischief of the wild, peppery, Prokofievan toccatas also recorded here. Ms. Judy Pang is increasingly on demand as an inventive solo and chamber musician with eclectic repertoire. She has established herself as a performer of works both mainstream and contemporary. Alongside her dedication to a wide-ranging selection from the canon of piano repertoire, she has continued her scholarly study of French impressionist music, on which she has given lecture recitals both in New York and Shanghai. Her numerous performances have taken her as far afield as the US, UK, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Finland, Australia and China.

To the extent that he is remembered at all, the Dresden-born August Alexander Klengel (1783–1852) retains a toe-hold in music history thanks to a monumental set of 48 canon and fugues. But Klengel was an important early-Romantic composer and celebrated piano virtuoso, with a reputation that stretched from St Petersburg to London. This first recording of his piano and chamber music reveals a personality with a strong lyrical impulse, somewhere between Field, Mendelssohn and Chopin, all three of whom he knew personally. Founded in 2016, Trio Klengel is named after August Klengel with the purpose of promoting his works. The ensemble decided to continue the work of the original Klengel Trio, founded in 1912. This trio consisted of the three daughters of the composer Julius Klengel, a relative of August Klengel. Just like the first Klengel Trio, this ensemble is also dedicated to promoting chamber music of long-forgotten composers and their works through concerts and recording projects.

Whatever your views on the music or the performance, that this recording exists at all is an extraordinary story, and due congratulations must be offered to the hard work and dedication of all involved, in particular of Jennifer Condon. Her “normal” job is as a prompter at the Hamburg Opera, but she has been responsible for editing this previously unpublished work, preparing it for performance, persuading a large and distinguished cast to take part, in some cases without any remuneration, as well as conducting the performance. This shows a commitment to the work that may seem eccentric to the cynical but heroic to others who have laboured in vain on behalf of other similarly neglected works.
 
Peggy Glanville-Hicks was an Australian composer whose teachers included Vaughan Williams, Egon Wellesz and Nadia Boulanger, who was married for a time to Stanley Bate, another neglected composer, and who spent twenty years in New York before moving to Greece and finally back to Australia. Her other works include the opera The Transposed Heads, commissioned by the Louisville Orchestra and recorded by them in the 1950s and in 1984 by the West Australian Symphony Orchestra. I have listened many times to both recordings with increasing pleasure so that I have been very eager to hear the present discs.
 
Sappho is a setting of an adaptation by the composer of a verse play by Lawrence Durrell. It tells of the Lesbian (but not lesbian) poet Sappho in her latter years when she was married to a wealthy local merchant, Kreon. The various scenes show her with the twin brothers, Pittakos and Phaon, with her tutor, Minos, and with Diomedes, a drunken poet. Towards the end she is exiled to Corinth on a false charge of incest. Her final monologue, the only part of the opera to have been publicly performed, is the clear climax of the opera, with Sappho accepting the impermanence of personal relationships as well as of her own life. It mirrors similar scenes at the end of operas by Strauss and Janácek, albeit that it is very different in its musical style. That style derives to a great degree from the composer’s attempt to reduce the importance of harmony in music, and to throw the emphasis instead on texture and tone, melody and heterophony. The result may seem a little bland at first but the listener soon adjusts to the composer’s very individual style.
 
A quick glance at the cast list shows several distinguished Wagnerian singers. Very surprisingly that appears to have been a necessity due to the weight of some of the orchestration. The conductor’s note indicates that she believes that with adjustment to dynamics and some of the orchestration it could be performed on a smaller scale, and I have to say that this would be welcome. In fact the ideal might be to retain the Wagner-sized voices but allow them to sing at somewhat less than full power. That would permit a more nuanced approach to performance and a more natural delivery of the, admittedly somewhat flowery, text. I am full of admiration for the cast here, who have taken on a major new work with obvious enthusiasm, but it has to be admitted that for much of the time there is a lack of any attempt at light or shade in their singing. The many singers for whom English is not their first language cope well but it cannot be said that the result sounds idiomatic. Admittedly the results in the case of the English-speaking artists are not all that much better, and although I attempted to follow what was being sung without it after a while I found myself wholly dependent on the printed libretto to understand what was being said or even who was saying it.
 
Sappho is by no means as immediately attractive as is The Transposed Heads, partly due to an apparent preponderance of slow or slowish music, but enough is revealed through this very welcome issue to suggest that subject to the preparation of a performance edition that would make it kinder to singers and to a greater familiarity with the work it would certainly merit stage performance. In the meantime we should once again thank Jennifer Condon for her untiring efforts to make it possible to hear the work and all the singers and players who helped her in this. Congratulations also to Toccata Classics whose presentation of the issue, with essays on the work, the edition, Durrell and Sappho, together with the full libretto, does all that could be done to help the listener and encourage understanding of this important discovery.
 
-- John Sheppard, MusicWeb International