BRUCKNER Symphony No. 3 (first version, 1873) • Jonathan Nott, cond; Bamberg SO • TUDOR 7133 (Multichannel Hybrid SACD: 63:12)


In Fanfare 28:3, I briefly described the three versions—1873, 1877, and 1889—of Anton Bruckner’s Third Symphony, while reviewing Kent Nagano’s recording of the 1873 version with the Deutsches Symphony of Berlin (Harmonia Mundi 901817, also available as a multichannel hybrid SACD, HMC 801817). For all its virtues of interpretation, execution, and sound—and sounding even better in the SACD version—I judged it not quite as compelling a performance as one by Georg Tintner and the Royal Scottish Orchestra on Naxos 8.553454. Now a new SACD from Tudor further complicates the picture. Jonathan Nott, an English conductor enjoying a major career in Europe, leads a powerful performance of the symphony, and the Bamberg Symphony never sounded better. In “super audio” five-channel sound, this is now clearly the best recording to date of the 1873 version. It is also one of the shortest; Nagano is more than five minutes longer, and Tintner more than 14! The first commercial recording by Eliahu Inbal and the Frankfurt Radio Orchestra clocked in at 65:12, and the fastest ever, by Roger Norrington and his London Classical Players, zipped by at 57:25. In placing Nott and Tintner at the head of my list, I obviously do not care how fast the music is played, but how convincing a conductor and orchestra can make their interpretation sound. Nott, like Tintner, creates drama through persuasive dynamic and rhythmic contrasts, adding up to a complete and compelling conception. It is especially gratifying to find a relatively young (born 1962) conductor creating a profound and exciting performance reminiscent of much older conductors, such as Bruno Walter, Carl Schuricht, Wilhelm Furtwängler, Otto Klemperer, and Eugen Jochum.


Tudor’s notes argue, as did Georg Tintner annotating his own performance for Naxos, that the later versions were not so much improvements as attenuations of a great masterpiece that is best heard and understood in its original form. Now that I have become thoroughly familiar with it, I can no longer argue against that view, though there is so much to admire in every version of Bruckner’s symphonies that I prefer to enjoy each on its own terms. It seems more worthwhile to argue against those who, for whatever reason, try to suppress marvelous scores like the Vienna version of the First Symphony, or the final version (1888) of the Fourth, both of which were revised and sent to the printer with the composer firmly in charge, however much help he had from his disciples.


An ethical case might be made against the publication (as recently as 1977, edited by Leopold Nowak) of this first version, because the composer never tried to have it performed or published. But every Bruckner enthusiast I know is grateful to hear these alternate versions, and conductors may now choose which version or versions they wish to perform. Similarly, serious collectors can choose which they wish to buy and keep.


Thanks to many recordings and concerts heard live or by radio, one can now accept the large number of allusions to the operas of Richard Wagner in the 1873 edition.


This was the version Wagner saw; Bruckner sought and received the great man’s permission to dedicate the symphony to him. This version is characterized by monumental length: 2,056 measures, compared to 1,715 in the 1877 version, and 1,544 in 1889. When performed with such skill and conviction, and recorded in such rich and burnished sound as in Tudor’s new release, one feels that more, indeed, is better.

FANFARE: Robert McColley

"Braunstein infuses the opening [of the Fantasy] with a good sense of atmosphere and emotion. The Adagio that follows has an appealing melancholy, which Braunstein never over-sentimentalizes. He ensures the Scottish airs have a lovely lilt, and he sweetly captures the flavor of the Scottish countryside. Then he brings a zesty spirit to the central Allegro and a quiet longing to the Andante. While Braunstein and Maestro Ion Marin give us a grander Finale than we often hear, overall this is a relaxed, broadly comfortable reading, full of charm and good will. It’s quite delightful, actually...This makes a most congenial, most welcome addition to the catalogue."

-- Classical Candor

This long-term edition of symphonies by Johannes Brahms and Antonin Dvořák, performed by the Bamberger Symphoniker led by their chief conductor Jakub Hrůša, springs from a wish to stimulate a deliberate, interiorized and unbiased listening experience. Associating these two Romantic geniuses, bound by a unique friendship, in one edition enables a new viewpoint. It immediately becomes apparent that the two last symphonies of Brahms and Dvořák have more than their key in common- yet this also illuminates their differences.

The encounter with these masterpieces becomes a sensual and intellectual adventure, sparking enthusiasm, amazement, and joy. Both the Bamberger Symphoniker’s concert programmes and their discography have long been marked by openness and a readiness to take risks, as displayed for example in their pioneering Mahler cycle, or the complete recordings of Schubert symphonies alongside works by Berio, Rihm, Widmann, and other contemporary composers. This production of the last symphonies by Brahms and Dvořák is not a confrontation, but places them in a new light- and continues the Bamberger Symphoniker and Jakub Hrůša’s dedicated championship of this repertoire.

This CD usefully gathers together the four most significant works in Brahms’s output for chorus and orchestra, with the obvious exception of Ein deutsches Requiem. Readers will already have noticed the rather niggardly playing time so let me hasten to assure them that it is only in this respect that the disc offers short measure: the music and the performances are of high quality.

The young English conductor, Robin Ticciati, has attracted a great deal of favourable notice in a relatively short space of time. Already installed as chief conductor of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra (from the 2009/10 season) he will become First guest conductor of the Bamberger Symphoniker from the 2010/11 season. This, I suspect, is his first recording with the orchestra and in it he reveals himself to be a fine Brahmsian.

The Alto Rhapsody is the best-known piece on the programme and I was very pleased to see the British mezzo, Alice Coote in the solo role. I saw her sing the piece on television a year or two ago at the Henry Wood Promenade Concerts. Here, freed from the necessity of projecting into such a vast auditorium as the Royal Albert Hall she can sing with the proper intimacy that much of the piece requires. It’s a remarkable work in many ways. The later Gesang der Parzen has a surprisingly large amount of dissonance in its harmonies but the way is surely paved in the searching music of the Rhapsody. Ticciati conducts it with maturity and is successful at laying out the stark winter landscape portrayed in the opening pages. Alice Coote sings very well; her vocal production is unforced and her warm, expressive tone gives much pleasure. Throughout the piece her voice is in good focus and I especially admired her poise at the telling phrase “Die Öde verschlingt ihn”. Ticciati accompanies his soloist considerately and his orchestra realises the textures of the music very well. Miss Coote is successful in putting across the introspective side of the piece and then, when the famous heart-easing melody appears - “Ist auf deinem Psalter” – her delivery of it is lovely, with the male voices of the choir in good support.

I came to know Nänie several years ago through taking part in a series of performances; it’s a very fine piece. It is, as Colin Anderson says in his booklet note, a work that contains “music of rapt contemplation and remarkable loveliness”. Indeed, the oboe melody that’s heard near the start is of a stature comparable with the theme for the same instrument in the slow movement of Brahms’ Violin Concerto. Ticciati leads a splendid performance. The music unfolds with due spaciousness and warmth but without any suspicion of wallowing. The choir is full-toned and well balanced. They produce some fine quiet singing but, when required, there’s ample power without any need to force the tone. It’s a very satisfying performance and to my ears Ticciati seems to get everything just right.

Gesang der Parzen is, musically, a very different proposition. This was the composer’s last work for choir and orchestra and it contains a good deal of turbulent, dark music. The darkness is emphasised by elements of Brahms’ scoring. He includes parts for a contrabassoon and a tuba while the choir is divided into six parts, including two alto parts and two bass parts. The piece begins quietly and from the outset a marked and appropriate degree of tension is present. The volume is increased significantly for the second stanza of the words, which are by Goethe, beginning “Der fürchte sie doppelt” (“Let he [who is raised up by them] fear them doubly”) and the choir rise to the occasion with some exciting singing. The whole piece is concentrated and is tragic in tone. Ticciati directs his forces with admirable energy. The spectral end, in which the contrabassoon is a discreet but telling presence, is well managed.

Schicksalslied mixes the sublime and the dramatic. The spacious introduction, in warm E flat major, is one of the most radiant passages of Brahms that I know. In this account the muted violins sing out the main theme most affectingly while the timpani pound quietly underneath. The gentle entry of the choir – led excellently by the altos – sustains the mood of the introduction perfectly. Later, at “Doch uns ist gegeben”, the music plunges abruptly into C minor and Brahms’ music is bitingly dramatic, recalling “Tod, wo ist dein Stachel” in Ein deutsches Requiem. Finally, Brahms relents and revisits the music of the introduction, but this time in C major. This is balm after the storm and I always think that the prominence of the flute in this reprise emphasises the lightening of the textures and the parting of the storm-clouds. The whole performance of this fine work strikes me as a complete success.

There have been comparable couplings of these four short masterpieces in the past. Claudio Abbado did them all to excellent effect with the Berliner Philharmoniker for DG in the early 1990s (435 791-2) and they were also recorded for Decca by Herbert Blomstedt in 1989, during his time in San Francisco. However, I’m not sure that either set of recordings is currently available. Even if they are, this newcomer offers an excellent alternative. Not only are the performances very good but also the recorded sound is very satisfying – I listened to this hybrid SACD in conventional CD form. My only reservation about the otherwise well-produced booklet is that the English and French translations of Nänie and of Gesang der Parzen are not aligned with the German words.

On this occasion I’d urge collectors to overlook the short playing time. These are very fine examples of the art of Brahms and they’ve been well served in these excellent recordings. I hope this is a harbinger of the forthcoming partnership between Robin Ticciati and this distinguished German orchestra.


-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

These recordings were formerly available on Ex Libris 6059. They were recorded in the Kirche Blumenstein, Stockental, Switzerland.

BRAHMS Serenade No. 1. Variations on a Theme by Haydn. Hungarian Dances : Nos. 1,3,10 • Robin Ticciati, cond; Bamberg SO • TUDOR 7183 (SACD: 68:28)


Is Robin Ticciati Britain’s Gustavo Dudamel? Time will tell. Younger than Dudamel by two years, the 29-year-old Ticciati is reported to have had no formal training in conducting but was mentored by Colin Davis and Simon Rattle. His first appearance with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra in 2008 created such a buzz that he was offered the ensemble’s post of principal conductor the following year, and his contract has been extended through 2015. Meanwhile, in 2009, he was appointed principal guest conductor of the Bamberg Symphony, a contract that runs concurrent with his Scottish engagement.


While Dudamel has landed a contract with Deutsche Grammophon and chalked up some 20 recordings of diverse repertoire with a number of different orchestras, including three or four with his Los Angeles Philharmonic, Ticciati has thus far, I believe, produced only two CDs, both for Tudor and both devoted to Brahms. He may also be found deep within a set of 33 DVDs of Mozart’s complete operas, leading a performance of Il sogno di Scipione . Ticciati’s previous Brahms album, containing a number of the composer’s works for chorus and orchestra, received a lukewarm reception from Henry Fogel in Fanfare 33:6.


While Brahms is hardly the exclusive territory of any one conductor, it does strike me a bit unusual that one as young and relatively unseasoned as Ticciati should choose Brahms, of all composers, for his first two major outings on disc. I will say, though, that choosing the Haydn Variations and the Serenade No. 1 is probably a safer bet than if he’d gone with one of the symphonies. Both works are relatively easygoing and of a sunnier disposition than are some of Brahms’s heavier orchestral works.


The somewhat lighter character of the music, however, tends to conceal much of its compositional cleverness and complexity. The Haydn Variations is an enduring testament to Brahms’s mastery of variation technique, and, as a bonus, it’s richly endowed with a wealth of the composer’s most warmhearted melodic and harmonic invention. The piece responds best, I think, to a noninterventionist approach, one in which the conductor takes the letter of the score as his guide and allows the music to speak for itself, and that is exactly what Ticciati does.


His tempos in the moderately paced movements amble along at a comfortable gait, while the faster-paced movements are fleet, agile, and very cleanly articulated. Of slow movements, one could say, based on Brahms’s tempo indications, that there really aren’t any—variation IV, marked Andante con moto , being the slowest of the lot. Ticciati takes it a bit slower than I think was probably intended, but he’s in good company, for many, if not most, conductors like to savor Brahms’s gorgeous invertible counterpoint in this movement. I particularly like Ticciati’s way with variation VII, marked Grazioso . It has a lissome lilt to it that feels just right.


Overall, this is a very enjoyable Haydn Variations that I’d place on a par with the very best of them, among which my longtime favorite, though dating back to 1958, is the one with Eduard van Beinum and the Concertgebouw Orchestra. I still own it on a mono Epic LP, but I note that it has been transferred to CD.


Brahms’s D-Major Serenade has a rather complicated history, one that has been fully set out in previous reviews, so I won’t rehash it here. Suffice it to say that the composer seems to have been conflicted as to whether his First Serenade was in fact a serenade or a symphony, and indeed, he himself referred to it as “my symphony-serenade.” One can understand his bafflement over the identity of this child to which he’d given birth. Its serenade personality expresses itself in the character of the music, much of which sounds rustic and folksy, and also in its six-movement layout. But the symphony personality finds its outlet in Brahms’s large-scale, fully developed sonata-allegro first movement and in the lengthy Adagio that unfolds by means of intensive motivic development.


This duality presents conductors with a bit of a dilemma. Does one approach the work as a pure serenade or as a “symphony-serenade,” as Brahms called it? There’s no question about where Ticciati stands; he leads the piece as if it were Brahms’s Symphony No. 0, and it’s quite an ear-opener, for one hears in this performance some of the very thematic and rhythmic ideas, and the way in which they’re orchestrated, that would find their way into the Second Symphony of 17 years later.


This is a most impressive reading, one that I have to say edges out my previous favorites by Leonard Slatkin leading the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and by Michael Tilson Thomas leading the London Symphony Orchestra. I should also mention that Tudor’s sumptuous, multichannel SACD recording contributes not insignificantly to my positive reaction.


Ticciati fills out his program with the only three of Brahms’s Hungarian Dances —Nos. 1, 3, and 10—that the composer orchestrated himself. With two Brahms discs now under his belt, I wonder if Ticciati and Tudor are planning a run of the rest of Brahms’s orchestral works. Based on this release, I hope so. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Classical Music

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

•Neither Bach nor Albinoni, Telemann, Handel or Vivaldi could ever have imagined the breathtaking acrobatics, depth of expression or lyricism that Gábor Tarkövi, the Hungarian star trumpeter of the Berlin Philharmonic, is able to coax from his different trumpets. Together with Peter Kofler he performs the transcriptions of works from the baroque with such style, taste, energy and authenticity that they all sound like originals!

These works are among Anton�n Dvorak's most valued creations. His youthful String Quintet Op. 77 is a "symphony for strings" with a modern feel; scoring it with a double bass produced a novel, visionary and highly romantic soundscape. The two other works, both written as domestic music for his Prague friends, could hardly be more different. The inclusion of a harmonium lends the Bagatelles Op. 47 a quite unique magic. Dvorak wrote of the Terzetto Op. 74: "I'm now writing little Bagatelles... The work is as enjoyable as writing a great symphony." Despite their rather modest technical demands, these are singular masterpieces, with a sonority unmatched in music history. The virtuosic interpretation by the Scharoun Ensemble Berlin emphasizes the works' merit, giving us chamber music with a symphonic breadth: it is quite obvious that the performers are members of the Berliner Philharmoniker.

Monteverdi, Scarlatti and Verdi -all three were opera composers. Their letters very clearly show this was how they saw themselves. How fortunate then that they also turned their hand to church music! Whether by choice or for financial reasons hardly matters, since they thereby abolished the artificial separation between the secular and religious spheres. But what about the religious dimension of these works? None of them ever mentioned it. Yet their brilliant inspiration turned these sacred texts into musical masterpieces -music as vividly of its time and as timeless as their operatic creations.

Franz Schubert's "German Mass" was written in 1827, his penultimate year, at the same time as Die Winterreise. As so often with songs that transcend their texts, here too he succeeded in creating a choral hymn cycle that rises above its simple lyrical content. Each of his hymns has a distinctive lyrical tone: uplifting praise in the Gloria, fervor and devotion in the Offertorium and concluding parts, and so on. This "Viennese Mass" also expresses Schubert's movingly prescient resignation and melancholy.

The works by Rossini and Brahms take us to other realms. During the last four decades of his life Rossini wrote no more operas. We find cheerful detachment and joie de vivre in "I Gondolieri" and "La Passegiata", magical vocal quartets with virtuosic piano accompaniment - these are far from being occasional works. As we move to Brahms the mood changes: after Vienna and Italy, he evokes the romance of the North, the secret attraction of a moonlit night, autumn mists and a nostalgia for blessed days. These quartets fuse piano part and voices into a wonderfully poetic whole.

In building the organ for Zurich’s Grossmünster in 1960, the firm of Metzler Orgelbau set a benchmark. Every well known organist wanted to play on this instrument. Hans Vollenweider, organist at the Grossmünster from 1970 to 1986, recorded the works of Bach over several years. The unique musicality and masterly technique of Vollenweider's interpretations are delightful. The spontaneity, immediacy and vividness of his recordings, available for the first time in this format, remain compelling. The present release features five of Bach's organ sonatas (BWV 525-528 and 530) in Triosonate form.

In building the organ for Zurich’s Grossmünster in 1960, the firm of Metzler Orgelbau set a benchmark. Every well known organist wanted to play on this instrument. Hans Vollenweider, organist at the Grossmünster from 1970 to 1986, recorded the works of Bach over several years. The unique musicality and masterly technique of Vollenweider's interpretations are delightful. The spontaneity, immediacy and vividness of his recordings, available for the first time in this format, remain compelling. The present release features J.S. Bach’s Preludes and Fugues BWV 539, 541, 543, and 545-548.

This recording focuses on concertante works for two flutes and orchestra by Italian contemporaries of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. There is documentary evidence for Mozart and Cambini having met in Paris. Common to all three works are high-spirited introductory Allegros and brilliantly scored, virtuosic Rondos. The wonderful Largo in Cimarosa’s Concerto is particularly attractive: a true 'Dance of the blessed spirits for two flutes'. Flutists Domique Hunziker and Anne Utagawa have been working together for many years. They founded the group ‘les joueurs de flute’ in 1985. The ensemble features a line-up of eight outstanding performers from Switzerland, Germany, and Japan. For this release, Hunziker and Utagawa are joined by the Orchestre de Chambre Paul Kuentz.