This new Beethoven symphony cycle with Malmö Symphony Orchestra is conductor Robert Trevino’s debut release on Ondine. Trevino is one of the fastest rising young conductors and known for his fresh and vivid interpretations of both standard repertoire as well as contemporary works. Trevino is currently holding the tenures as chief conductor of the Malmö Symphony Orchestra and as music director of the Basque National Orchestra. After studies with conductors David Zinman, Seiji Ozawa and Michael Tilson Thomas, Trevino worked closely as Leif Segerstam’s assistant before making his debuts with a number of leading symphony orchestras worldwide. These Beethoven symphonies were recorded in connection with a Beethoven festival which was arranged in Malmö, Sweden in October, 2019.

REVIEW:

It may seem bold and even brash for a relatively young conductor like Robert Trevino to launch a new label relationship with a Beethoven symphony cycle recorded in live performance. Yet he has an obvious affinity for this repertoire, compounded by the Malmö Symphony Orchestra’s polished and responsive music making. Ondine’s engineering captures the orchestra in fine detail without artificial spotlighting, conveying a genuine concert hall ambience.

In a perceptive interview with David Patrick Stearns published as part of this set’s annotations, Trevino cites consultations with David Zinman and Daniel Barenboim concerning interpretive matters. Indeed there’s evidence of Zinman’s chamber-like aesthetic and fast tempos, as well as the power and dynamism distinguishing Barenboim’s great Berlin Staatskapelle Beethoven symphony cycle. But Trevino goes his own way, with variable results.

His brisk outer movements in Symphony No. 1 are akin to Toscanini’s opera buffa approach, particularly in the Allegro con brio development section’s playful woodwind repartée. Certain phrases in the Minuet push ever-so-slightly ahead of the beat, yet remain securely locked in, ensemble-wise. In No. 2, Trevino effects an assiduous transition between the Adagio introduction and an enchantingly rollicking Allegro con brio. For all its suppleness of execution, I prefer the more pointed string articulation in Paavo Järvi’s similarly conceived traversal. The controlled delicacy in the Larghetto’s softer music makes this movement sound faster than its actual duration, although it’s on the square side when compared alongside the more robust and inflected Harnoncourt reading.

Trevino undersells the cross-rhythmic sforzandos in the Eroica symphony’s first movement, while the exposition’s basic tempo gradually spreads and slows down: not a lot, but the energy flags. Trevino’s Funeral March is as eloquent and moving as the catalog’s best versions. The conductor accelerates for the Fughetta, yet the carefully layered counterpoint and tremendous dynamic build reflect the music’s shattering intent. The Scherzo has all of Szell/Cleveland’s surface perfection, minus its nervous energy, while the finale variations brilliantly showcase the Mälmo woodwinds’ proficiency.

Trevino largely underplays No. 4. The opening Adagio’s blended string and woodwind passages are super clear but lack the foreboding aura of Thomas Fey’s marked dynamic contrasts and stinging accents. The slow movement’s two-note phrases are not as well-defined as in the Bruno Walter/Columbia Symphony recording.

Some may find No. 5’s first movement overly driven, yet Trevino’s attention to linear interplay never derails. If the Andante con moto doesn’t aspire to Beethoven’s “dolce” directive, notice the uncommon clarity of the upper strings’ staccato 32nd notes. The Scherzo’s clipped detaché tuttis and difficult cello/bass fugal entrance in the Trio are appropriately forceful, while the Allegro finale mirrors the first movement’s relentless momentum.

In the Pastorale, Trevino emulates Zinman’s transparency and fast tempos, but with more distinctive first-desk soloists. The bird-call intimations in the second movement are deliciously shaped, but the fourth-movement storm doesn’t break out into a Klempererian or Kleiberian torrent.

No. 7’s fast-paced outer movements border on glibness, missing the force and drama with which Barenboim/Berlin Staatskapelle, Wand/NDR, the first Solti/Chicago, and Carlos Kleiber/Bavarian State Radio Orchestra grab you by the jugular, figuratively speaking.

Trevino’s first-movement tricks in No. 8 don’t quite work, such as a diminuendo in the opening phrase that telegraphs the subito piano that follows, plus odd accelerandos here and there. The conductor gives short shrift to the cross-rhythmic accents, and to the cellos and basses who carry the melodic burden in the transition leading into the recapitulation. The Allegretto’s woodwind gurgles are recessed to polite effect, when they ought to be in your face. The rollicking finale stands out for deft interplay between orchestral strands, yet the similarly lithe Haitink/London Symphony recording proves more incisive in every respect.

Trevino maintains the basic tempo of No. 9’s first movement with little modification, and makes expressive points solely through variety of articulation and specificity of phrasing. The Scherzo’s vibrantly shaped Trio compensates for the main section’s coolness and lack of fervency. In the briskly reserved Adagio, the decorative string passages still manage to sing out and breathe. And the “Ode to Joy” finale benefits from fine singing and “centrist” tempos that are intelligently unified and not too fast nor too slow.

The conductor observes all repeats, eschews the traditional brass reinforcements in the Ninth’s Scherzo, and opts for the trumpets continuing their phrases in the Eroica first-movement coda. If this Beethoven cycle falls short of our reference versions’ consistent satisfaction and seasoned authority, Robert Trevino’s stylish flair, astute musicianship, and good taste are never in doubt.

– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)

The award-winning duo ensemble formed by Christian Tetzlaff and Lars Vogt are returning to the masterworks of European chamber music with this new album that includes Ludwig van Beethoven’s three violin sonatas from Op. 30.

The expressive and intimate chamber music recordings by the star duo have gathered numerous awards and their previous album also received an ECHO Klassik award in 2017. Beethoven wrote his three Violin Sonatas Op. 30 in 1801 and 1802. They are relatively early works but already pointing towards the direction of Beethoven’s revolutionary 3rd Symphony, Eroica, which was completed in 1803. Although the influence of Haydn is still visible, in these sonatas Beethoven created movements in all the sonatas that are completely untypical and that had never existed before in this way. No wonder that these delightful works belong to the artists’ favorite works by the great composer.

REVIEWS:

Christian Tetzlaff and Lars Vogt make a formidable team: technically right at the top of their game (Tetzlaff’s bow control is phenomenal), and yet at the same time always managing to convey the notion of taking risks.

-- BBC Music Magazine

This is chamber-playing at its most humane; impossible to hear without feeling a renewed love and admiration for music and performers alike.

-- Gramophone

This Ondine release includes Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber's (1644-1704) 16 Mystery Sonatas, also known as Rosary Sonatas. This set of virtuosic violin sonatas is Biber's most well-known work. They also serve as unique masterpieces of the Baroque violin repertoire. In the present recording violinist Sirkka-Liisa Kaakinen-Pilch is joined by the Finnish Baroque ensemble Battalia.

Biber's Mystery Sonatas feature 15 rosary mysteries from the life of Jesus and Virgin Mary. One of the most prominent characteristics of Biber's work is the use of various tunings, i.e. scordatura. Out of the sixteen sonatas, fourteen require the use of ‘mistuned' violin.

Sirkka-Liisa Kaakinen-Pilch is nowadays in great demand as a leader of countless renowned early music ensembles and orchestras, performing music of the Baroque and symphonies of the age of Mozart and Schubert. Her solo repertoire includes works by Biber, Johann Sebastian Bach, and solo violin works of the 16th and 17th centuries. She also plays the viola and viola d'amore. Among her numerous tasks, she has also worked 10 years as the leader of Philippe Herreweghe's Collegium Vocale.

In this new concerto album one of the greatest violinists of his generation, Christian Tetzlaff, offers profound interpretations of two deeply dramatic and lyrical concertos – those of Brahms and Berg – together with the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin conducted by Robin Ticciati.

“Reasons of substance justify the recording of the Violin Concertos of Johannes Brahms and Alban Berg on a single album: both works concern existential human states of being. For me, the concerto by Johannes Brahms is a work that in a violin concerto dares to address very dangerous, abysmal, and profound states of the soul. Here an enormous contrast between ecstasy and total lonely isolation is in evidence. (...) Brahms also has a lot to say about pain. That’s rare in violin concertos – and links the Brahms concerto to the one by Alban Berg. I’ve been playing both concertos for 40 years – and I’ve played both of them, taken together, much more than 300 times. Here it seems to me as though the experience of these pieces changes one’s own life.” (Christian Tetzlaff)

REVIEWS:

This is a master violinist at the height of his powers. Teztlaff's playing demonstrates the range of emotion that each work requires. Needless to say, he is wholly in command of the technical demands of each work. The balance between soloists and orchestra is good.

-- MusicWeb International

Tetzlaff’s performance of the Brahms Concerto is brisk, and his interpretation at times feels very much of the moment. The first movement’s second subject is deliciously languid, but always moving onwards, and he develops increasing excitement and momentum in the build-up to the great tutti.

-- The Strad

This recording includes a fascinating program: Luciano Berio's iconic adaptation of Johannes Brahms' Clarinet Sonata No. 1 combined with Detlev Glanert's recent arrangement of Brahms' late vocal masterpiece, Four Serious Songs. Also included is Glanert's new orchestral work Weites Land written in the spirit of Brahms. This disc includes as its soloists award-winning clarinetist Kari Kriikku and German baritone Michael Nagy. This is the second release of Estonian conductor Olari Elts together with the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra. Detlev Glanert was, like Brahms, born in Hamburg. A pupil of Diether de la Motte and Hans Werner Henze, Glanert has long felt a deep connection with Brahms' music through "a specific North German tradition, in which I believe myself to be connected with Brahms, to do with a melancholy in his pieces, with a certain severity." Luciano Berio was commissioned by the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra in 1986 to provide an orchestral version of the first of the two late sonatas Brahms composed in 1894, two years prior to the Serious Songs. Berio created a 25-minute concerto, although retaining the designation "Sonata". Berio's treatment of Brahms' was highly respectful and straightforward and the solo part is almost identical with the origina lsonata.

This album by violinist Christian Tetzlaff and cellist Tanja Tetzlaff, together with the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin conducted by Paavo Järvi, is dedicated in the memory of their longtime artistic partner, pianist Lars Vogt (1970–2022). At the heart of this album is Brahms, one of Lars Vogt’s favorite composers, and his late orchestral masterpiece, the Double Concerto. Brahms himself had admired one of Viotti’s violin concertos so much that he included material from the violin concerto into his work. With Christian Tetzlaff’s recording of the violin concerto, this album finally brings these two works together. Also included is Dvorák’s beautiful Silent Woods for cello and orchestra, a work by another composer that was very close to Lars Vogt’s heart.

Best known for his gigantic orchestral masterpieces Johannes Brahms took equal pleasure in writing smaller miniatures. In fact, Brahms wrote a substantial number of pieces for vocal quartet and piano; this ensemble was for him a vehicle for expressing warmth and positive emotions, and as such this genre remains one of the most beloved in his output. This new recording by the prestigious Latvian Radio Choir under Sigvards Klava features a selection from his Op.. 52, 64, 65 and 92, including some of his famous Liebeslieder-Walzer. Brahms wrote his earliest waltzes for piano duet and published them as Op. 39 in 1865. Some years later, in 1868-1869, he went on to write the Liebeslieder-Walzer for vocal quartet and piano four hands, Op. 52. These, in turn, prompted a "sequel" in Neue Liebeslieder, Op. 65 five years later. These warm and vivacious songs are a happy marriage of Viennese waltzes and the love poetry of Georg Friedrich Daumer, and biographers point to a romantic impulse stemming from Brahms's amorous enchantment with the daughter of his close frien dClara Schumann, Julia. Brahms's vocal quartets with piano accompaniment represent an interesting chamber music approach to vocal music. They give the impression of being created for the purpose of intimate music-making at home, among friends. The Liebeslieder-Walzer quickly became one of Brahms's most popular works.

This album of two piano quartets by Johannes Brahms (1833–1897) captures pianist Lars Vogt’s last recordings. Before his premature death and between treatments, Lars Vogt was able to record a multi-award-winning album of piano chamber music works by Schubert together with Christian Tetzlaff and Tanja Tetzlaff, as well as albums of Mozart’s and Mendelssohn’s piano concertos. However, a project to record Brahms’ complete piano quartets was left unfinished after the studio recording of Piano Quartet No. 2 was completed. With the help of recording producer Christoph Franke, we are now able to offer this recording together with Piano Quartet No. 3 from a live concert performance in connection with the studio recording. Combined, these make up Lars Vogt’s last recordings. Violinist Christian Tetzlaff, violist Barbara Buntrock and cellist Tanja Tetzlaff offer stellar performances in these landmark recordings and fulfill Lars Vogt’s late wish to have these performances released.

REVIEW:

The final recordings of pianist Lars Vogt have offered many riches, but this one is arguably the most profound of all. This may be the most intense recording of the C minor quartet on recordings. In both works, the coordination among the players evinces a joy that characterizes the highest ideals of chamber music.

— AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

Ondine is proud to release its 17th album together with the award-winning Latvian Radio Choir and conductor Sigvards Kļava dedicated to a cappella words by Anton Brucker. Anton Bruckner (1824–1896) is known as one of the greatest of 19th century symphonists. Yet, also choral music formed an integral part of the composer’s output. This album includes a selection of smaller choral works written between the years 1848 and 1892. Many of these works were long forgotten. Yet after a long stretch on the periphery of the choral world, Bruckner’s motets have now finally returned to a broader consciousness. The Latvian Radio Choir (LRC) ranks among the top professional chamber choirs in Europe and its refined taste for musical material, fineness of expression and vocal of unbelievably immense compass have charted it as a noted brand on the world map. The repertoire of LRC ranges from the Renaissance music to the most sophisticated scores by modern composers; and it could be described as a sound laboratory –the singers explore their skills by turning to the mysteries of traditional singing, as well as to the art of quartertone and overtone singing and other sound production techniques. The choir has established a new understanding of the possibilities of a human voice; one could also say that the choir is the creator of a new choral paradigm: every singer is a distinct individual with his or her own vocal signature and roles in performances.

REVIEW:

It is probably heretical to say so, but I have to confess that I listen to Bruckner’s choral music far more often (and with more satisfaction) than I listen to his symphonies. In part this is because I generally find more delight in the sound of a choir than in that of a symphony orchestra. But another – more important - factor is that the relative brevity of, say, Bruckner’s motets offers the composer less opportunity for the kind of prolixity which, to my mind, is all too common in his symphonies (I feel sure that by now, I shall have offended some readers!).

The ‘concise’ Bruckner is to be found, above all, in his motets. In the symphonies the affirmations of glory and the passages of spiritual radiance have to be discovered amidst very different materials, whereas they permeate every bar of the best of his motets. This, it seems to me, is a context in which that over-used slogan “small is best” really rings true. The thirty-four extant motets by Bruckner were written between 1835 (as an 11/12 year- old) and 1892 (four years before his death). Where Brahms, being a Protestant, found primary inspiration for his motets in those of Bach, the ardent Roman Catholic Bruckner turned to Renaissance polyphony, and to Palestrina in particular, for his models. Bruckner does not seem to have had, at any point, a formal relationship with the Cecilian movement for the reform of church music, but he clearly seems to have shared some of that movement’s important principles – such as the admiration of Palestrina and the belief that the structures of Gregorian chant should be fundamental to church music; Bruckner also shared the Cecilian dislike of over-theatrical church music. Such affinities are evident in motets like ‘Os Justi’, ‘Ave Maria’, ‘Locus iste’ and ‘Tota pulchra es Maria’.

Simple (though some have called it only ‘deceptively simple’) yet sublime, ‘Locus iste’ is a well-nigh perfect example of the motets written by the mature Bruckner, characteristic, that is, of the realization of those Brucknerian/Cecilian principles outlined above. The performance here by the Latvian Radio Choir brings out the distinctive qualities of the piece (and of the choir) – precise yet intense, fervent yet restrained, voices perfectly blended, with the basses wonderfully rich without the vocal balance being disturbed. Under the direction of Sigvards K?ava the result is both prayer-like and exalted, in the certainty of the faith expressed. ‘Locus iste’ was written for the dedication of theVotivkapelle (a beautiful chapel well worth visiting) at the new Cathedral in Linz (the building of which began in 1862). It was written in Vienna during Bruckner’s time as Professor of Harmony and Counterpoint at the Conservatory. It sets a three-line text – “Locus iste a Deo factus est, / inestimabile sacramentum, / irreprehensibilis est.”. (The text is drawn from Genesis 28:16 and Exodus 3:15). Bruckner’s setting begins in quiet calm, but still has a strong sense of confident affirmation. The strength of feeling gradually increases, but Bruckner avoids any sense of the excessively dramatic – the loudest dynamic marking is only mf. Yet, given the quietness around it, this is powerfully effective. Bruckner’s effects, indeed, are achieved very economically, as, when the first line is repeated, one is startled to find that the closing phase (“factus est”) is omitted and its place is taken by a beautiful melisma (the only one in the piece) on the word “Deo”. Lovely as the motet is, its power resides, in part, in what is not done, what is, as it were, held in reserve – a musical strategy which recognizes the divine power by being humble before it.

The use of the idiom of traditional chant – a fondness for which, as suggested earlier, Bruckner shared with the Cecilians – is especially successful in ‘Os Justi’. It is worth noting that this motet is dedicated to Ignaz Traumhiler, Regens Chori at The Abbey of St. Florian and an enthusiastic advocate of the Cecilian movement. As the booklet notes by J?nis Torg?ns observe, “in a feature that is quite striking for this period in Bruckner’s output (c.1875-1885), the piece combines the archaic colours of ancient modes (Lydian, Phrygian, etc.) with his [i.e. Bruckner’s] characteristic harmonic language.” The setting also includes, as Torg?ns points out, a clear allusion to the “‘faith’ motto from Parsifal” and “a marked and extensive fugato”. This, then, is a far more complex piece than ‘Locus iste’, a perfect example of multum in parvo, with so much happening, musically speaking, in a piece that takes little more than four minutes to sing. Such a mixture of ancient and modern in the work of one of our own contemporaries might seem like sophisticated postmodernism; in Bruckner it speaks of the pursuit of an idiom which is ‘outside time’. Put side by side, ‘Os Justi’ and the utter simplicity of Bruckner’s ‘Ave Maria’, and it is very clear how variously Bruckner makes use of the motet form. So, for example, in other motets Bruckner uses Phrygian resources to create pieces which are very much in the spirit of ancient chant, even if they don’t quote it directly – such as ‘Pangelingua et Tantum Ergo’, ‘Tota pulchra es Maria’ and ‘Vexilla Regis’ (all three are discussed in perceptive detail in Anthony F. Carver’s article ‘Bruckner and the Phrygian Mode’ in Music and Letters, 86 (1), 2005, pp.74-99).

Bruckner is, at times, both harmonically and dynamically adventurous in his motets. One vivid example of this is ‘Christus factus est’, in which violent dynamic contrasts (of a sort which Ignaz Traumhiler might not have approved of), such as that between the fff climax at “quod est super omne nomen” and the ppp at the very close of the motet. ‘Virga Jesse’ (written for Traumhiler) is also very dramatic. It begins quietly (p) and ends even more quietly (pp); in between there are several climaxes, each followed by a fermata. The result is highly expressive, a vivid musical embodiment of the emotions of the text – the gradual Virga Jesse floruit – not least in the wonderful closing Alleluia (bars 63-91).

The Kronstorfer Messe – an a cappella setting, minus Gloria and Credo – is an early work, written when Bruckner was a schoolteacher’s assistant in Kronstorf in Upper Austria in his twenties. It makes very clear his attachment to Palestrina – the brief discussion in James Garratt’s Palestrina and the German Romantic Imagination (CUP, 2004) is worth reading. It is performed very infrequently and has rarely been recorded. Even in a performance by a high-quality choir such as the Latvian Radio Choir, it isn’t hard to see why. The young Bruckner’s respect for tradition seems to inhibit him and the resulting work is relatively lifeless; it lacks the variety and vitality necessary to bring its four movements (Kyrie-Sanctus-Benedictus-Agnus Dei) fully alive. It is useful to have a well-sung recording of the work available (primarily as an aid to understanding Bruckner’s later development), but I can’t help wishing that the choice had been made to record more of Bruckner’s motets (perhaps ‘Inveni David’ and ‘Afferentur regi - see also below), rather than this pleasant but rather limited work.

The singers of the Latvian Radio Choir impress in every work on this disc. If I have a ‘complaint’ it concerns a matter of omission rather than commission. I very much regret the absence of ‘Ecce sacerdos magnus’, a favourite of mine since I first heard it more than 50 years ago.

Hitherto, I have most often turned to recordings of Bruckner’s motets on two Hyperion discs: by the Corydon Singers conducted by Matthew Best (CDA66062) and by Polyphony, directed by Stephen Layton (CDA67629). In future I shall be at least as likely (if not more so) to take this disc from my shelves.

– MusicWeb International (Glyn Pursglove)

This new album release by the Latvian Radio Choir and conductor Sigvards Kļava on Ondine is devoted to choral works by the legendary American composer and music pioneer John Cage (1912–1992), one of the most leading figures in 20th Century music. John Cage is the dictionary definition of an avant-garde composer. Choral music and John Cage might seem like an odd pairing. And indeed, strictly speaking, Cage wrote only two compositions for chorus, both of which appear on this album: Hymns and Variations (1979) and Four2 (1990). The other works on the album are written for ensembles that are more or less open-ended and which have been interpreted here for choral forces. One reason Cage and choruses did not mix well may have been his notorious hostility to harmony in music. Arnold Schoenberg told Cage that he lacked any feeling for harmony, and that this would be a wall between him and his goal of being a composer. Given all this, it is no wonder that Cage and choruses didn’t tend to mingle together. And so it was not until Cage was 67 years old that he wrote his first work for choral forces: Hymns and Variations.

REVIEWS:

John Cage was barely a choral composer. But by combining the couple of pieces he wrote for chorus with a creative interpretation of the flexible instrumentation of a few other scores, you can arrive at an hour or so of mysterious, wordless music for vocal ensemble. “Hymns and Variations” (1979) is the earliest work on this intimate and luminous new album from the Latvian Radio Choir. Cage subtracts some notes from two hymns by the early American composer William Billings, and extends the duration of some that remain, creating an eerily pure, serene suggestion of 18th-century harmonies.

--The New York Times

That Cage delighted in provoking audiences is undoubtable, but his mischief concealed his seriousness of purpose. He revealed and explored a vast New World of sound which had hitherto been a terra incognita of the mind. But above all, Cage was a tireless proselytizer of the gospel of beauty and created some of the 20th century’s most radically beautiful music. These strands are united here in this breathtaking collection from Ondine of some of the composer’s late choral music performed by the Latvian Radio Choir.

--MusicWeb International

John Cage and choral music might seem strange bedfellows, but there was no corner of the musical landscape that this dedicated breaker of composition rules didn’t want to deconstruct. With its drifting, otherworldly textures, Five, from 1988, could almost have come from the soundtrack of 2001: A Space Odyssey, while Four2, astonishingly written for a high school choir, includes a tonal tenor and bass pairing, oozing quite unexpected calm.

[One] can’t but be stunned by the fearless skill of Sigvards Kļava’s choir as they navigate the most jagged, fragmented notes and pitches—the musical equivalent of climbing Mount Everest just with your hands and feet.

--BBC Music Magazine

There are, I think, two possible approaches to this recording. One is simply to listen through it and let the effect of the (very different) pieces on it wash over one, reacting to each in turn. The other is to read the excellent booklet notes by James Pritchett and then listen to the music, following in more or less detail what he explains in them. Either process would work, because the music is intrinsically interesting and frequently very impressive. It must be said as well that the singers sound as though they are enjoying themselves enormously.

--Gramophone

Internationally acclaimed Swedish pianist Peter Jablonski is known as a fervent champion of Polish music. In this album Jablonski returns to some of his dearest piano music – Chopin’s Mazurkas. For Chopin, the Mazurkas became a deeply personal, intimate statement of his feelings as an émigré Polish composer living in Paris. From some of his very first compositions to his last, it is the only form that Chopin composed regularly throughout his life. Similarly, Chopin’s Mazurkas have followed Peter Jablonski throughout his entire career as a pianist in nearly every solo recital.

REVIEW:

Peter Jablonski is no stranger to Chopin’s Mazurkas, having recorded the Opp 6, 24, 50 and 68 groups in 2008. He’s now setting down the complete Chopin Mazurkas for Ondine.

This first volume reveals an authoritative, idiomatic, and individual stylist. He’s generally an epic, large-scale player who favors a wide range of dynamics and articulations. He can be yieldingly lyrical, yet he’s not afraid to get dirt underneath his fingernails.

He playfully inflects the cross-rhythmic phrases in the central section of the B flat Op 17 No 1. While he takes his time over the A minor Op 17 No 4’s decorative tracery, his grounded tempo is fluid and flexible.

Each of Op 30 No 2’s echoed phrases has its own character and color, words that succinctly describe Jablonski’s edgy way with No 3. The tension and release of No 4’s trills wouldn’t be out of place in Scriabin. Op 33 No 2 is not especially fast yet it still conveys boisterous lilt, and with very little sustain pedal for the most part. Jablonski’s effectively understated Op 33 No 3 sets the stage for a strikingly contrasted and personalised B minor No 4. An angular, questioning take on the short and swift B major Mazurka stands out in the well-played Op 41 group.

Needless to say, I look forward to this excellently engineered and annotated release’s follow-up volume.

-- Gramophone (Jed Distler)

This second and final volume of Chopin’s Mazurkas by Peter Jablonski includes the composer's Mazurkas Nos. 30-51 alongside six posthumous mazurkas. For Chopin, the Mazurkas became a deeply personal, intimate statement of his feelings as an émigré Polish composer living in Paris. From some of his very first compositions to his last, it is the only form that Chopin composed regularly throughout his life. Similarly, Chopin’s Mazurkas have followed Peter Jablonski throughout his entire career as a pianist in nearly every solo recital. This album also includes Chopin’s final composition that was written just few weeks before his death, the Mazurka No. 49 in F minor (1849).