The French composer Camille Saint-Saëns was prolific and lived a long time, although by the time of his death in 1921 music had changed beyond anything he could have conceived. He was a gifted pianist and, in common with many other well known French composers, found employment and distinction as organist at one of the principal churches in Paris. The popular Carnival of the Animals, described as A Zoological Fantasy, was written in 1886, originally for two pianos and a small chamber orchestra, to celebrate that year's carnival. The composer forbade further performances of this occasional music, except for The Swan, which enjoyed immediate and irresistible popularity.

The Soviet composer Sergey Prokofiev wrote his Peter and the Wolf in 1936 to introduce to children the instruments of the orchestra. He had taken his two sons to see performances at the Moscow Children's Music Theatre and this had suggested to him the possibility of a composition of this kind. The boy Peter, represented by the strings, is playing in the meadow, forbidden territory. A bird, shown by the flute, sings in a tree: a duck, the oboe, swims in the pond, and a cat, the clarinet, comes onto the scene, sending the bird up to a higher branch. Peter's grandfather, the bassoon, warns the boy not to venture out, but meanwhile a wolf, the French horns, comes into the meadow, 
and adventures ensue with spoken narration.

Ten years later, in 1946, the English composer Benjamin Britten was asked to write music for an educational film introducing the instruments of the orchestra. For the purpose he chose a theme by the great 17th century English composer Henry Purcell and wrote a set of variations, each of which shows the characteristics of a particular instrument or group of instruments. The alternative title of the work, Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Purcell, is an exact description. The other title, The Young Person's Guide to the 
Orchestra, makes fun of the titles much favored by writers of moral tales in the 19th century, providing "young persons" with advice on how to regulate every aspect of their lives. At the most exciting part of the concluding fugue, the brass instruments play again the original theme, leading to a grand conclusion. 

Internationally renowned and award-winning composer Salvador Brotons brings classical music into the here and now, depicting our contemporary world in his Fifth Symphony. It's first three movements are musical representations of the more negative aspects of the human condition, before the slow, final section offers a positive resolution. The Oboe Concertobrings out both lyrical expressiveness and virtuoso thrills from the soloist, and the Four Pieces for String Orchestra was the prize-winning work which brought acclaim and recognition to Brotons at the age of seventeen.

The acclaimed conductor and composer Salvador Brotons is renowned for his music for symphonic band. It was Rebroll (Rebirth), a symphonic poem in one movement inspired by contemporary events, which first earned him international recognition, and is performed worldwide. Symphony No. 6 'Concise' charts a dramatic course between rhythmic dynamism, ceremonial grandeur and lyrical intimacy. Glosa de l'Emigrant is a nostalgic song cast as a sardana, the national dance of Catalonia, and features the beautiful sound of the tenora, a Catalan folk instrument. Brotons' Symphony No. 5 and his Oboe Concerto can be heard on 8.573163.

Although Bruce Broughton is best known for his many film and television scores, over the past five decades he has composed scores for a diverse array of projects from film and TV to concert music and even theme parks. His work has been recognized with an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Score for the film "Silverado" (1985) and a record ten Emmy Awards for his musical compositions in television. This album presents a small selection of his concert works.

Bokyung Byun, winner of the 2021 Guitar Foundation of America (GFA) Competition and one of the most formidable classical guitarists of the younger generation, presents here a wide variety of music from diverse nationalities and eras. From 18th-century Classicism and 20th-century works inspired by the mastery of Andrés Segovia, to the eclectic works of today, Byun takes us through many moods and cultural styles in a dazzling display of virtuosity, bravura and immense sensitivity.

This recording brings together two undisputed 20th century masterpieces and one from the 21st, all of which share surprising stories of neglect. With its sublime Adagio, Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez has become a true phenomenon in the history of Western music, but like the original version of Frank Martin’s extraordinarily powerful Guitare it suffered disapproval from its dedicatee Andrés Segovia. Echoes of Rodrigo can be heard in the cinematic romanticism of Leo Brouwer’s Concierto de Benicàssim, described by the composer as “a panorama of my own ideas” and revived here by Miguel Trápaga a decade after its première.

Leo Brouwer is universally acclaimed as an innovative composer, and this fifth volume of his complete guitar works contains some of his longest and most ambitious pieces. Danzas Rituales y Festivas Vol. 2 covers the gamut of virtuosic techniques and includes a movement dedicated to Pedro Mateo Gonzalez, while Brouwer considers the Sonata del Pensador to be ‘one of my most valuable pieces.’ Rich in Cuban rhythms, introspection and astonishing virtuosity, Brouwer’s work is the result of a lifetime of musical exploration alongside a passion for music of the past.

-----

REVIEW:

Much of the disc does not call for extended periods of virtuosity, but the music requires an inner feeling for the composer so as to provide a shape to movements that are frequently slow moving and sparing in notes. The distinguished Spanish guitarist, Pedro Mateo Gonzalez, has an affinity to Brouwer.

– David's Review Corner (David Denton)

The Brasil Guitar Duo offers vivacious, sensitive, clear, carefully balanced, and splendidly engineered performances that are technically impeccable and stylistically right on the money. A most enjoyable and stimulating release, and not just for guitar fans. -- ClassicsToday.com

The widely ranging, innovative works of prolific Cuban composer and former concert guitarist Leo Brouwer, among the most often performed internationally, have conferred upon him world acclaim, recognition and renown. In this recording his progressive, imaginative contribution to extending the guitar duo’s horizon is on full display. Subtle allusions to dance styles, virtuosity and rhythms referencing Cuban folk music highlight these exciting pieces that include the special sonorities of Per suonare a due to the international voyage in four movements Sonata de Los Viajeros.

A native of Cuba, Leo Brouwer is universally acknowledged as one of the most challenging and innovative of contemporary composers. This program brings the guitar into consort with the bandurria, a small lute dating from the 16th century and perennially popular in South America, the combination perfect for expressing the rustic rhythms of Cuban folk style in M�sica Incidental Campesina. This recording covers a kaleidoscopic range of techniques and emotions, from political martyrdom in Chile to the immense vistas of Brazil. The Sonata para Bandurria was composed for one of the virtuoso performers on this recording, Pedro Chamorro.

These two concertos show the increasing importance of the guitar duo on the world’s concert stages. Leo Brouwer, one of the foremost Latin American composers, has written many admired guitar concertos but The Book of Signs is his first for two guitars, a double concerto of great virtuosity, with a majestic, songful theme in its central movement. A crucial figure in the global promotion of Brazilian rhythms for the guitar, Paulo Bellinati deploys luxurious harmonies and brilliantly effective techniques to pay tribute to the country music of Sao Paulo State in Concerto Caboclo.

When Heifetz chose Bruch’s Scottish Fantasy, reportedly his favorite concerto, for his legendary appearance on TV, he had already recorded it twice; the later recording, with Malcolm Sargent and the New Symphony Orchestra of London, has sometimes been recommended as representing him at his best. Although the Fantasy hasn’t received the attention that the First Concerto had garnered even in Bruch’s own lifetime (sometimes to his chagrin), its popularity seems to run ahead of the Second Concerto (which Heifetz also championed) and to outdistance by far the nearly orphaned Third, a chip of Spohr-like granite that remains the province of the few. Maxim Fedotov doesn’t challenge Heifetz’s proprietorship—or perhaps even Michael Rabin’s suave mastery, or even Kyung-Wha Chung’s passionate electricity; if his relaxed meandering in the opening movement and his weighty deliberation in the following Allegro don’t suggest fierce warlords (the Russian Philharmonic comes closer in the final movement, an Allegro guerriero), he plays with a rich, glowing tone that recalls Oistrakh’s, although perhaps not veiled with that master’s mystery, and his portamentos occasionally suggest an antique (if updated and sanitized) expressive manner well suited to this sentimental, though not maudlin, work. How did Pablo Sarasate, to whom Bruch dedicated it, play this concerto? He concocted his own confection from Scottish airs, so he must have had some familiarity with, and interest in, the folk idiom. The engineers haven’t shone the spotlight on Fedotov in the way Heifetz’s and Oistrakh’s did.

Bruch also dedicated his Serenade to Sarasate; and, though the Spaniard didn’t give its premiere, it bears the impress of his personality. If the Third Concerto seems a relative orphan, this work has remained almost unknown; but Salvatore Accardo included it in his collection of Bruch’s works for violin and orchestra with Kurt Masur and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra (originally on Philips 9500 590 and re-released on CD as Philips 289 462 167-2). While Accardo’s reading explored the work’s nostalgic sensibility, Fedotov’s takes a more muscular approach to its tangy, concerto-like virtuosity—Bruch had, after all, intended this work as a concerto-like serenade (he repeatedly wrote movements and works that he expected would turn out to be his Fourth Concerto—without losing touch with its brooding sensitivity. His tempos seem relatively leisurely in the opening movement and upon its return at the Serenade’s end (in an effective valedictory gesture, Yablonsky and the orchestra insinuate the Serenade’s returning opening materials with poignant subtlety and close with a serenely hushed cadence), as well as in the episodic passages of the fast movements; but he struts briskly, too, as in the second movement’s march. Perhaps decisively, though, he doesn’t seem quite so comfortable in the long second movement as Accardo did, and he wanders without a strong sense of direction—though with richly textured symphonic support—in the sprawling third.

Those hoping to explore Bruch œuvre at first cautiously, then with more abandon, should find the Fantasy and the Serenade a well-ordered program. Recommended as a digitally recorded alternative to Accardo’s readings.

Robert Maxham, FANFARE

Classical Music

My French colleague Christophe Huss called a few days ago and said "You've got to try the new Bruch Concerto disc on Naxos. It's really excellent." Now Christophe really does know his stuff, and even his Bruch, which is saying a lot. Tovey thought Bruch was a genius, especially for his choral works, but then he said the same thing about Parry, so even great writers on music have their weak spots. Still, there's no denying that in writing for violin and orchestra Bruch was in his element, and the neglect of these two works is rather remarkable.

The Second concerto always has impressed me as being every bit as good as the First. Like its more famous predecessor, it avoids that Romantic Achilles' heel, the sonata-form first movement. Here a voluptuous and melodically stunning Adagio leads to a brief, dramatic recitative and a lively finale. The Third concerto isn't quite so lucky--sonata form rears its ugly head in the very long first movement--but violinist Maxim Fedotov and conductor Dmitry Yablonsky take Bruch's "energico" directive at face value and all comes out well. Certainly, Bruch had no issues with finales (almost as big a problem as opening movements), and that of the Third concerto is particularly winning, and marvelously scored.

Fedotov plays both works splendidly. He has that gutsy, vibrant tone characteristic of so many Russian string players, which means that he's able to relax into the lyrical music without ever turning coy. In the finale of the Third, especially, his double-stopping is a joy, his passage work pretty immaculate, and he projects both concertos with real virtuoso relish. Yablonsky and the orchestra accompany with similar enthusiasm, and the sonics are extremely natural and well balanced. You might be tempted to overlook this release--but don't. Thank you, Christophe!

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

There’s no question that the late Georg Tintner was a great Brucknerian, even if some of his textual decisions, such as his preference for the patently inferior first version of the Eighth Symphony, with its minimalistically repetitive scherzo (sound clip), necessarily make this set one to own alongside other, more traditional approaches. On the other hand, put this together with Skrowaczewski’s Oehms set, also at budget price, and you can have two superb, hugely different Bruckner cycles for a very reasonable outlay.

And whether or not you agree with all of Tintner’s decisions with respect to editions, there’s no question that he justifies his choices by delivering what are arguably the best performances available of the alternative in question. This is true of that Eighth, and even more so of his astonishing Third, one of the very greatest Bruckner performances ever committed to disc. Also noteworthy: superb versions of the Seventh, Fourth, and First. The two early works, “0? and “00?, need to be played as well as they are here. They are not great Bruckner, but Tintner’s commitment carries the day.

The orchestras involved aren’t traditional “Bruckner orchestras” either, and so lack that characteristic rich string sound and dark-toned brass–but even this contributes to rather than detracts from Tintner’s distinctive vision, and the playing is never less than up to Bruckner’s demands. You also get the 1878 “Volksfest” finale to the Fourth Symphony, plus a bonus CD containing a very personal discussion by Tintner of Bruckner’s music. Sonically, these are also some of Naxos’ finest efforts, making this box an essential purchase for anyone who loves Bruckner and who missed these performances the first time around.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

BRUCKNER: Motets

BRUCKNER String Quintet. 1 String Quartet. Intermezzo in d. 1 Rondo in c • Fine Arts Qrt; Gil Sharon (va) 1 • NAXOS 8.570788 (78.50)


When the Bruckner revival was in full swing a few decades ago, this writer was never entirely smitten, and to this day I wince when he and Mahler are combined in casual conversation, since the style and quality of their music is so utterly different. Bruckner’s limited chamber music output hasn’t found much of a home in the repertoire of top-tier ensembles, but there is enough to make a cautious judgment, and the latest entry from Naxos might help some to examine this lonely corner of the repertoire.


Given my prejudices, I might not be expected to gush over this new disc of Bruckner’s Quintet in F Major and Quartet in C Minor by the Fine Arts Quartet, and I won’t. The performances are quite good and lovingly delivered, but the same qualities I have always considered weaknesses (utterly predictable phrase patterns and melodic sequences, unjustified repetitions, etc.) are in full bloom here as well, characteristics magnified by the absent splendor of a grand orchestra creating great masses of sonic beauty, which I believe too often masks a dearth of ideas and creative paths through the material. Despite my harsh minority view of the topic, I would not recommend relegating this disc to the garbage heap. In fact, there are intermittent pleasures here and there that might please the casual Bruckner listener and delight his more ardent admirers.


Posterity is certainly wise to give greater value to the mature Quintet over the youthful and rather thinly realized Quartet. Composed around the time of the Fifth and Sixth Symphonies (1879), the Quintet sounds like one of his symphonic monuments, though it is a bit shorter and requires more nimble and intimate passagework from the performers, particularly the first violin. Some familiar harmonic patterns are present, and I detect some melodic snippets reminiscent of chamber works from Schumann (the “falling fifth,” for example). There is a fair amount of counterpoint, especially in the development section of the first movement. The Scherzo is one of the stronger movements on the disc, and is spun with a classical lightness that occasionally brings to mind Mendelssohn. There is even a touch of humor here and there, not an attribute Bruckner is known for. Not surprisingly for the über -revisionist Austrian, there is an alternative to the Scherzo, a rather pleasant Intermezzo, handily included on the disc for those inclined to judge for themselves.


The Adagio from the Quintet is sometimes heard in a transcription for string orchestra, a setting for which it seems more suited. Its lyrical, tender, and extended themes are among the composer’s finest, and there are occasions when the clarity of five players lends a touching intimacy not possible in massed strings.


The Quartet was discovered only in 1949 in a sketchbook of works from his student years. This is a much more reticent composer, content to remain well within the models of quartet composition inherited from his predecessors, a tendency most notable in the Scherzo. His attempts at Romantic-era duress seem strained, but there are some catchy tunes, especially in the supple and tender Andante.


I haven’t heard many of the dozen or so recordings of the Quintet, but you’re unlikely to find one much better than this finely executed and clearly recorded disc; doubly so for the far rarer Quartet. The Fine Arts Quartet gives a warmly expressive and carefully calibrated reading, joined by the fine violist Gil Sharon in the Quintet.


FANFARE: Michael Cameron

Bruckner: Symphonies No. 8, WAB 108 & No. 0, "Nullte", WAB 1

Anton Bruckner 200 (1824-2024)

Released to coincide with Bruckner's 200th birthday in 2024, this 18-CD set brings together the entire recorded cycle of Bruckner's symphonies in the Capriccio label's The Complete Versions Edition. Markus Poschner's acclaimed recordings of Bruckner's symphonies feature all of the versions identified as having significant revisions and changes in the authoritative Neue Anton Bruckner Gesamtausgabe (New Anton Bruckner Complete Edition), making this the most comprehensive Bruckner Symphonies cycle available today.

Bruckner: Symphony No. 00 "Study Symphony" & Finale to Symph

This first-ever recording of the original version of Anton Bruckner's sweeping Symphony No. 1 marked the final great achievement of the acclaimed Bruckner conductor, Georg Tintner, who died in 1999. Following the premiere of the symphony in 1868, Bruckner's devoted conductor friends, all of whom were die-hard Wagnerians like Bruckner himself, championed the work (and Bruckner's other compositions) while subjecting it to their own modifications in order to make Bruckner sound more Wagnerian! Regrettably, the trusting Bruckner sometimes allowed and even abetted these interventions. With the advantage of twenty-twenty hindsight, one can see that Bruckner was, from the beginning, a majestically individual composer and should have been left to his own devices. Under the knowing hand of Tintner, the Royal Scottish National Orchestra reveals this symphony's sprawling orchestral architecture as it was first conceived. The first two movements are surprisingly novel for a fledgling essay in the genre. The second movement already sets the standard for those otherworldly adagio movements, with their glacially unfolding melodies, that populate Bruckner's symphonies.

REVIEWS:
BBC Music (5/98, p.66) - Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5) - "...What will interest aficionados is the use here of the original 1872 version....Tintner's devotion to the work shines through....The playing is excellent, the recording spaciously warm if occasionally bass-light..."

Every so often a recording comes out that is so powerful, so comprehensive in its interpretive vision, that it not only makes the music sound completely new, it forces a complete reappraisal of the music's overall significance. Georg Tintner's Bruckner Third is one such recording. In fact, it offers such a fundamental reappraisal of this music that it's safe to say that until you hear this recording, you have not heard Bruckner's Third Symphony. In order to understand why this is so, it's necessary to understand something of the history of the work. First composed in 1873 and dedicated to Wagner, the symphony went through at least two major revisions in the wake of its disastrous Vienna premiere. For the most part, these revisions involved cuts, but also some recasting of the basic thematic material of the first and last movement in a heavier, more "late Bruckner" style. The final, truncated version published by Nowak is the one most frequently played today, but the slightly less cut Oeser edition (the "middle" version) has been gaining favor recently, and has been recorded by conductors such as Haitink and Sinopoli.

Because Bruckner's later thoughts on the symphony reflect his more mature orchestral practice, the Third has acquired a reputation as a hybrid, a "magnificent failure" that falls between the Schubertian world of the early symphonies and his monumental later achievement. This view was reinforced by Robert Simpson's unsympathetic account of the work in his important English language study of the Bruckner symphonies. Eliahu Inbal's first recording of the original 1873 version for Teldec did nothing to dispel this impression, being a rapid and not especially well played performance that merely set out the notes that Bruckner wrote. Tintner's spacious, epic conception of the symphony couldn't be more different. In the first place, it plays for more than 77 minutes, making it Bruckner's longest symphony after the Eighth (and in fact longer than many performances of that work). But the tempos never sound slow. Rather, Tintner gives each thematic group time to breathe, to present its themes in Bruckner's characteristic blocks of sound, and along the way we make some fascinating discoveries. The first of these reveals the exposition of the first movement to be the richest and most thematically diverse that Bruckner ever wrote, with no less than four complete subject complexes. The spaciousness of the exposition makes the development section sound unusually concentrated for Bruckner, the movement's overall form confidently poised and balanced.

After the 30-minute first movement, with its huge contrasts of dynamics and texture, the lyrical adagio comes as the ideal contrast, and Tintner's gracious phrasing, combined with his ability to find just the right tempo, keeps the music moving with a real sense of inevitability. The Scherzo has never been controversial, and Tintner captures its lightness and rustic dance qualities as have few others, but it's the finale that offers the final revelation. Here, Tintner's confidence in Bruckner's vision pays huge dividends in a movement long regarded as almost a complete bust, formally speaking. With all the "cyclical" elements that were later removed still in place (the recollections of earlier themes), and a tempo that gives the music time to reveal its clear derivation from the melodies and accompaniments of the first movement, what we really have is one of Bruckner's most ambitious and far reaching formal successes, an energetic and satisfying counterbalance to the epic expanses of the symphony's opening. Tintner's belief in this symphony reveals it to be not some sort of unfortunate hybrid, but the product of a fully mature (he was 49 when he wrote it!), even radical composer. This in turn makes its initial failure in performance all the more understandable: there was certainly nothing even remotely like it in 1873. The conventional wisdom that the "real" Bruckner begins with the revised Fourth Symphony simply will not stand. It's this work that is his symphonic manifesto, and no one hearing this performance will doubt it for a second.

The Royal Scottish National Orchestra deserves a huge amount of credit for sharing Tintner's patience and conviction. The light tone of the strings, in particular, sounds especially "right" in this symphony, and in this case preferable to the darker, heavier sound of many Continental orchestras in this music. Tintner's Bruckner series has been almost uniformly excellent, but I think that this recording is the finest of them all. Its importance to our understanding of Bruckner's symphonic achievement is such that it amounts to nothing less than a premiere performance of a newly discovered masterpiece. Recordings this significant happen all too rarely. Don't miss it.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

With this new release the Naxos catalog now includes all extant versions of Bruckner's much massaged Symphony No. 3. Georg Tintner's imposing account of the 1873 original made a powerful and seemingly irrefutable case for Bruckner's first thoughts. But Johannes Wildner is equally persuasive in his compelling rendition of the second version from 1877. Here Bruckner tamed the sometimes discursive quality of his original inspiration, giving it a tighter and more or less conventional structure--at least as defined by Brucknerian standards. Though this came at a sacrifice of some of the music's more radical passages, the symphony remains a powerful and affecting work.


Wildner's conviction is immediately apparent in the first movement: Listen as he builds the opening's two great climaxes with arresting force, then infuses the following lyrical second subject with an ingratiating warmth. Fine as the first movement is, it's actually the Adagio and Finale that benefit most from Wildner's probing conducting, as both movements sound with a rare formal coherence married to dramatic impact. As a bonus, the first disc of this double set also includes the composer's intermediate version (1876) of the Adagio.


Bruckner's 1889 revision of the symphony is controversial for its sometimes ungainly melding of his early and late styles, as well as for the cuts--reportedly influenced by Franz Schalk--that gouge out large portions of the finale. However, Wildner miraculously smooths out the symphony's rough edges by adopting swift tempos (the first movement now has lost nearly four minutes), streamlined phrasing, and light textures; he also imparts an early-romantic, almost Mendelssohnian feel that makes this last version sound paradoxically like the earliest, contemporaneous with the Second Symphony.


The Westphalia New Philharmonic members perform with the same enthusiasm and expertise they displayed in their recording of the Ninth Symphony. And though the strings still don't match the richness of their world-class competition, the brass project more boldly and surely than before, and the orchestra as a whole cultivates an authentic yet distinctive Bruckner sound. Naxos' recording offers impressive clarity and dynamic range, though the dry hall acoustic doesn't provide much warmth. No matter--the heat generated by Wildner and his players more than compensates. [2/21/2004]
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Bruckner: Symphony No. 4

REVIEWS:
BBC Music (5/98, p.66) - Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5) - "...the New Zealand-based Tintner uses local forces in a forthright performance which lays emphasis on Bruckner's cross-rhythms. Sound textures are rich, the melodies of the slow movement particularly intense..."

BRUCKNER: Symphony No. 9, WAB 109

Antoine Brumel was among the most distinguished composers of his time, the first great French rather than Flemish Renaissance composer.

This is the third volume in the series of orchestral music by Milanese-born Elisabetta Brusa (b. 1954). Sharing its neo-tonal language with her Nittemero Symphony, which can be heard here, the imposing, vividly immediate and approachable Symphony No. 1 is her first work for large orchestra. The symphonic poem Merlin evokes the great magician of legend through rich orchestral colors and powerful rhythms. Volume 2, described by Gramophone magazine as ‘a collection not to be missed’, can be heard here.

Brusa: Orchestral Works, Vol. 1

Brusa: Orchestral Works, Vol. 2