Classical Music

Running through this album is a path from despair and sin through revelation, repentance and belief, to life, triumph and finally love. The stations on the way are eight five-part fantasias for viols by Michael East (1580–1648), unusual in that each of them has a Latin title – from Desperavi to Amavi. In his time, East was one of England’s most published composers with seven books of his compositions in print, all of them containing music for viols and voices. The fantasias are here performed by the five members of Chelys Consort of Viols, who together with the singers in Fieri Consort have selected vocal items by East to complement each of the instrumental pieces. Regretting the lack of modern repertoire for this combination the performers have also commissioned a new piece by the composer Jill Jarman. Setting a verse by Sir Henry Wotton, a contemporary of East, Now are my thoughts at peace sums up the journey of the fantasias from Desperavi to Amavi, 400 years after they were written.

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

When American composers began writing symphonies around the mid-1800s, their works were very much in the European tradition. During the first half of the 20th century, the great innovator Charles Ives injected a recognizably American sound into the genre, however, and since then the American symphonic legacy has been both wide and varied. With the present release, conductor Lance Friedel strikes a blow for three fellow American composers, with the help of the eminent London Symphony Orchestra. The album opens with Walter Piston’s Symphony No. 6. It was completed in 1955, by which time many regarded Piston (1894–1976) as clinging to tradition in the face of modernism. When Samuel Jones (b.1935) presented his Third Symphony ‘Palo Duro Canyon’ in 1992, the pendulum was swinging back, however, and traditional music built of melody, harmony and rhythm was no longer considered hopelessly outdated. The work nevertheless begins in a rather non-traditional fashion with the recorded sound of the wind of the Texas plains, where the Palo Duro Canyon is situated. Jones’s slightly younger colleague Stephen Albert (1941–92) was just completing his Second Symphony when he was killed in a car accident. The work had been commissioned by the New York Philharmonic, and the orchestration of it was completed by Albert’s colleague and friend Sebastian Currier.

REVIEW:

Maine-born Walter Piston’s Symphony No. 6 was written for Charles Munch and the Boston Symphony, who premièred it in 1955. The somewhat mournful start to the first movement, marked Fluendo espressivo, soon gives way to a lighter tread. One senses a degree of formal rigour in the writing, but it’s all clad in colorful raiment. The LSO play with their usual skill, the jaunty, ear-catching scherzo so nimbly done. The deeply reflective adagio is well shaped and projected, the quietest moments—and that gorgeous harp—unerringly caught. It’s capped by a fresh, freewheeling finale, witty and warm. One to add to my roster of recent ‘finds’.

Mississippian Samuel Jones seems to have a three-pronged career, as a composer, conductor and pedagogue. His small discography includes a Schwarz/Seattle recording of the Third Symphony and Tuba Concerto, which Bob Briggs and Rob Barnett both reviewed in 2009. As the title implies, the symphony is inspired by Palo Duro Canyon, near Amarillo, Texas. In six continuous movements—helpfully cued in this release—it begins with highly atmospheric wind sounds that morph into music of uncommon thrust and thrill. Yes, the work’s traditional in the sense that it’s straightforwardly programmatic, but there’s a strength and consistency of imagination here that makes for a gripping listen.

Like an Ansel Adams landscape, Jones’s striking piece presents nature in all its raw inspiring beauty. Pursuing the photographic connection, Friedel displays a keen eye for outlines and contrast, the resulting ‘image’ intuitively—and dramatically—framed. The playing is rich and full bodied, especially in those broad, craggy perorations; it helps that engineer Fabian Frank gives the orchestra all the space they need. What a pleasure it is to hear the LSO out in the open as it were, and not constrained by the acoustic limitations of their usual venue. I simply can’t imagine the symphony’s splendid tuttis expanding in that hall with anything like the ease or tactility that they do in this one. All of which makes this another ‘find’.

New Yorker Stephen Albert’s Symphony No. 2 was unfinished at the time of his death in 1992. Orchestrated by the composer and pedagogue Sebastian Currier, the work has a brooding, rather Sibelian first movement. And while the writing isn’t as explicit or as extrovert as that of the other pieces here—textures are denser, colors more subtle—it’s not without spikes of excitement. The expansive climax at the end of the first movement is particularly impressive. The middle movement is both animated and colorful, its internal conversations and asides a delight. The finale, more equivocal, reveals a fine orchestral blend, beautifully caught by this very truthful and transparent recording. So yes, another ‘find’. (Good notes by Friedel, too.)

-- MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Soprano Ruby Hughes, celebrated for the profound "understanding and stylishness" (Gramophone) she brings to her artistry, has a distinguished discography of recitals showcasing the exquisite beauty of her voice. She is particularly known for her carefully curated programs that weave together works from diverse eras. In Amidst the Shades, Hughes reunites with gambist Mime Yamahiro Brinkmann and lutenist Jonas Nordberg. The same inspiring sonic constellation contributed to the success of Heroines of Love and Loss (BIS-2248). This new recital explores their shared passion for Elizabethan music, which served as the catalyst for the program's creation. The contemplative and melancholic songs of John Dowland form the foundation, leading to works by Robert Johnson and John Danyel, interwoven with Purcell's intimate vocal pieces. Seeking to further enrich the repertoire for lute and voice, Hughes commissioned new works from Errollyn Wallen and Deborah Pritchard, setting texts by William Shakespeare. She also obtained permission from Cheryl Frances-Hoad to arrange one of her existing compositions for this unique ensemble. Amidst the Shades promises a recital brimming with nuanced expression and delicate sonic colors.

When Andreas Haefliger conceived this unusual combination of concertos it was with the aim of putting into perspective three pieces, each a unique and highly expres­sive highlight from the composers’ output. That Maurice Ravel’s Concerto for the Left Hand and Béla Bartók’s Third Piano Concerto fulfilled the requirements was a given: towards the end of his life Bartók wrote his most lyrically expressive concerto while Ravel, inspired by the qualities of the left hand register, wrote a piece full of dark yearning and grotesquely fauvistic dances.

The third work was more of a gamble, being a newly commissioned and not yet written concerto. The risk was a calculated one, however, given the stellar reputation of the composer Dieter Ammann, as well as Haefliger’s personal acquaintance with him. But as Haefliger himself remarks: ‘Little could have prepared me for the exceptional work I was to receive: The Piano Concerto – Gran Toccata. Keeping tradition close by as an ally in the layering of harmony and rhythm, it explodes into futuristic visions in an extremely personal language and, through its kaleidoscopic colours and pianistic virtuosity, reinvents the genre for the 21st century.’ The concerto was premiered at the 2019 BBC Proms, and Andreas Haefliger has since performed it in Boston, Munich and Helsinki, where the present recording was made. On all three occasions, he has been partnered by Susanna Mälkki, chief conductor of the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra which lends Haefliger eminent support in all three works.

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REVIEW

Haefliger’s playing is very dynamic and colorful. He understands the importance of rhythm, even in slow passages, and knows how to maximize what the composer has written.

– The Art Music Lounge

For his second recital album for BIS, countertenor and sopranist Nicolò Balducci, ‘a singer of a remarkably sweet sound and distinct vocal agility’ (Gramophone), presents arias that evoke love and pain, two basic ingredients of Italian opera in the 18th century. Often tailor-made for specific singers who were in some cases the foremost castrati from that era such as the legendary Farinelli, these arias expressed resolute valour, unbridled fury and sometimes extreme guilt, to the delight of audiences that enjoyed these operas with their far-fetched narratives inspired by mythology or historical events. For this album, Nicolò Balducci is accompanied by the Baroque Academy Gothenburg Symphony under the direction of renowned recorder player Dan Laurin. Together, they perform well-known arias by Handel, from Vivaldi’s long neglected operas, as well as by lesser-known composers such as Riccardo Broschi (Farinelli’s brother) and Egidio Duni.

Classical Music

Resonating across more than five centuries, expressions of personal piety and prayer fill these works by a quartet of Franco-Flemish composers, all born in the 15th century, and their modern-day colleagues, Estonian Cyrillus Kreek (1889—1962) and British-Norwegian Andrew Smith (b. 1970). For those familiar with the vocal ensemble New York Polyphony and its previous, acclaimed releases on BIS, this exploration of the intersection of ancient and modern music is far from surprising: the group is known for its innovative programming. On And the sun darkened the four members follow Josquin’s celebrated motet Tu pauperum refugium with Andrew Smith’s setting of Psalm 55 – composed for NYP, it is a lament which nevertheless closes with an expression of confidence in God’s justice. Sung in Estonian another biblical psalm is heard in Kreek’s Taaveti laul 22 (‘David’s 22nd Song’), the text ‘My God, why have you forsaken me’ preparing the listener for the work that has given the disc its title. Officium de Cruce by Loyset Compère is a setting of a 14th-century hymn which follows the episodes of the Passion in a continuously flowing musical narrative: from the betrayal of Christ to his death – when the sun darkened – and entombment.

REVIEWS:

The vocal quartet New York Polyphony has excelled with a fine vocal blend and programs of Renaissance and contemporary choral music that often touch on underrepresented repertory. Josquin is present, but only with a single piece, and the focus is on his much less often heard contemporaries and successors, Loyset Compère, Pierre de la Rue, and Adrian Willaert. The one-voice-per-part forces of New York Polyphony may be an obstacle for some, inasmuch as this is not how Josquin was meant to be performed; the group's singing has a madrigalesque quality, and that's not everyone's cup of tea, but this might be the album to check out for those who have been wanting to sample New York Polyphony's work. Another attraction is BIS's sound, captured in Princeton Abbey in New Jersey; it's entirely distinct from that of the big English chapels where most recordings this repertory are made, and it's absorbingly inward.

– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)

The four member, standard setting chamber vocal ensemble New York Polyphony continues to transfix listeners with their pure, dynamically balanced and deeply expressive a cappella singing. It's hard to believe how a group of only four male voices can sound like much more than the sum of its parts. Regardless of which century the members of New York Polyphony happen to explore at any given moment, you can sense their deep respect and understanding of both the text and music at all times. Their perfectly matched voices create a sonic canopy akin to the nave of a gothic cathedral, with audio engineering to match. Guaranteed you will feel the urge to listen to this recording many times over.

– Classical Music Sentinel (Jean-Yves Duperron, 2021)

As Anna Paradiso writes in her liner notes to this disc ‘the history of music is full of fine composers who, for one reason or another, have been largely forgotten.’ In the case of Pietro Domenico Paradisi, it is only thanks to his Sonate di gravicembalo that he has escaped complete obscurity. Even his name is less than certain – is it Paradies or Paradisi? We know that he sometimes added the epithet ‘Napolitano’ to his signature, and it’s presumed that he was born in or around Naples c. 1706. He may have studied with Nicola Porpora, but otherwise little is known about him before his arrival in England in 1746. There he composed an opera, but was primarily recognized as a harpsichord teacher and performer. The collection of twelve sonatas was first published in London in 1754, and ten of them have been selected for this amply filled disc (almost 88 minutes of music!). The sonatas appeared at a time when the clavichord remained in use, the harpsichord enjoyed its glory days and the fortepiano was beginning to come into its own. Anna Paradiso has therefore chosen to play on all three instruments – with the clavichord and the fortepiano being historic examples from 1792 and 1802 respectively. Highly acclaimed for her recordings of solo works and chamber music by the Swedish composer Johan Helmich Roman, Anna Paradiso now lets us enjoy the playfulness and expressivity of Paradisi’s approach to keyboard playing.

Towards the end of the 19th century, France saw a renaissance for chamber music, perpetuated not by popular demand but by the composers themselves. An early response to Saint-Saëns' initiative came from a former student, Gabriel Fauré, who completed his Violin Sonata in A Major and gave it the opus number 13, making it the first instrumental work in his official work list.

Classical Music

ARIOSTI “Stockholm” Sonatas: No. 15 in f; No. 16 in G; No. 17 in B?; No. 18 in d; No. 19 in a; No. 20 in g; No. 21 in a. Pur alfin gentil viola 1 • Thomas Georgi (vda); Lucas Harris (lt, gtr); Mime Yamahiro Brinkmann (vdg); Emma Kirkby (sop) 1 (period instruments) • BIS 1675 (63:57 Text and Translation)


Attilio Malachia Ariosti (1666–1729) led an amazingly varied life, one that could only have played out amid the opulence of the Baroque era. He started out as an altar boy in Bologna and later took monastic vows, possibly also entering the priesthood. All along he assiduously pursued his musical studies, eventually assuming the post of organist at the basilica of Santa Maria dei Servi. There he attracted the attention of the Duke of Mantua, for whom he began composing operas. Ariosti’s first opera, Tirsi (1697), was such a success that the Duke was encouraged to lend him out to the Berlin court, whose ruler was Sophie Charlotte of Hanover, Electress of Brandenburg and sister of the future George I of England. Ariosti quickly became Sophie’s favorite court musician (Bononcini was employed at the court as well), and became friends with the great Gottfried Leibniz. After Sophie died in 1705, Ariosti declared his (reluctant) desire to return to his monastery, by way of Vienna. The Vienna sojourn at the court of Joseph I stretched to seven years, where he composed operas, oratorios, and cantatas. After Joseph’s widow, Wilhelmina, kicked him out of Vienna (for his ostentatious, non-ecclesiastical behavior) in 1711, Ariosti found employment at the court of the Duke of Anjou (the future Louis XV), in Munich, Württemberg, Durlach, Baden, Lorraine, and at the court of the Duke of Orléans. In 1716 Ariosti sailed for England, where his opera Almahide had been staged in 1708, albeit with two-thirds of the numbers replaced by arias of Bononcini. Ariosti’s first appearance on the London stage was on July 12, 1716, when he played his “New Symphony … upon a New Instrument call’d Viola D’Amour,” between the acts of a Handel opera. Subsequently, the Royal Academy was to commission several operas, but Ariosti was still preoccupied with his diplomatic intrigues and had trouble meeting the deadlines; only one of the operas, Caio Marzio Coriolana (1723), was an unmitigated success, thanks in part to the participation of Cuzzoni and Senesino.


Exactly 21 viola d’amore sonatas survive from the pen of Ariosti; 15 of them owe their existence to Ariosti’s contemporary Swedish musician Johan Helmich Roman, who copied them down while on a visit to London. These survive in manuscript form in a Swedish library, hence the designation. The concluding cantata, Pur alfin gentil viola , is a valedictory work that survives in manuscript in a Darmstadt library. Written in an idiom reminiscent of Handel, the sonatas are remarkable for their brevity. Most movements are less than two minutes; only two of the Adagios are more than three. The structure is usually simple bipartite: AABB, or even ABa (the lower case indicating a brief restatement of the opening theme). The suites typically consist of four movements, in the traditional slow-fast-slow-fast grouping of the Italian sonata da chiesa.


The viola d’amore is one of those colorful “accessory” instruments so popular with Baroque composers. Played under the chin like the violin, it has six or seven sympathetic strings running under the fingerboard that are responsible for the instrument’s characteristic silvery sound. Like the oboe d’amore and the voice flute, the viola d’amore was newly invented; it came into use during the second half of the 17th century, but never became a permanent member of the orchestra. Bach, Telemann, Vivaldi, and Quantz wrote sparingly for the viola d’amore, but it dropped out of sight during the Romantic era. Surprisingly, the instrument has persisted until the present day; composers as diverse as Strauss, Janá?ek, Hindemith, Martin, and Villa-Lobos have been attracted to its gentle, ethereal sound.


Thomas Georgi is an American who performed with the Queensland Symphony Orchestra of Australia for many years, and since 1989 has been a member of the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra of Toronto. After joining that group he began to champion the viola d’amore, and has recorded two previous volumes of Ariosti for BIS. Apparently those CDs were never received by Fanfare for review. Georgi is joined by two excellent instrumentalists, lutenist Lucas Harris and gambist Mimi Yamahiro Brinkmann, and the renowned English soprano Dame Emma Kirkby. The performances are models of their kind, with colorful, expressive playing from Georgi, and first-rate contributions from the two continuo players. I applaud the decision to employ archlute (theorbo) and guitar as continuo instruments; a harpsichord would have overwhelmed the delicate sound of the viola d’amore. Of particular interest is the cantata—it demonstrates that Dame Emma’s voice is as beautiful and controlled as ever, even after nearly 40 years before the public.


When the pressures and madness of modern life press in, I can think of nothing better than to retreat into the delicate sound world of Ariosti for rejuvenation. Highly recommended.


FANFARE: Christopher Brodersen

This CD is the continuation of viola d’amore specialist Thomas Georgi’s The Stockholm Sonatas I (BIS-CD-1535), resurrecting the neglected music of Attilio Ariosti. The first volume consisted of the music published by Ariosti in London as a set of ‘Lessons for the Viola d’Amour’. The works were preserved in Stockholm in a manuscript entitled ‘Receuil de Pièces’ and copied by the Swedish composer Johan Helmich Roman in the late 1710s during his studies in London. Based on the Stockholm manuscript, Georgi has made his own edition of the works. This recording comprises the first 7 of the 15 ‘sonatas’ contained in the Receuil, leaving the remainder for a final, third volume in the series.

Highly regarded by his contemporaries as a singer, organist, cellist and dramatist, Ariosti has been more or less forgotten for more than two centuries. In his liner notes Georgi underlines Ariosti’s “remarkable twists of harmony, his witty way with silence as well as with notes, his preference for juxtaposition of contrasting material over development of a single idea”; wondering if these qualities would have found him “as wide an audience as Corelli’s”, had the viola d’amore remained popular as an instrument. As on the first disc, Georgi is joined by lutenist Lucas Harris, and this time by different cellist, Mime Yamahiro Brinkmann, another product of that excellent Early Music Department at my place of work, the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague.

Thomas Georgi has used the title ‘Sonata’ for these works even though the word is never used in the manuscript source. “They sound like sonatas to me” is his almost belligerent declaration, and I admire his pioneering spirit in cutting through a potential quagmire of nomenclatural red tape. His expertise and scholarly research mean that his treatment of embellishments in this music is based on the historical examples of contemporary performers. Citing Corelli as a model, the scores are taken as a framework from which a player of the time would have used partially as a springboard on which their own technical and expressive abilities would have had a significant effect with regard to the final result. In his review of the fist disc of this series, Gary Higginson describes these works as ‘second-rate music’ – in which I would agree that they don’t really plumb great emotional depths to our modern ears. For the purpose that they were no doubt intended they are however ‘first-rate’, as your gigging reviewer can confirm. A composer writing to satisfy players and a mixed audience walks a narrow line between being over-demanding and dull. Ariosti is neither of these things, providing plenty of interesting music for all of the musicians involved, enough wow factor and variety to keep the elderly aunts and uncles awake in the front row, and keeping enough in reserve not to annoy the wealthy patrons at the back who are having a boozy chat through the whole thing. The handkerchief waving bewigged gentry of the time swooned hopelessly at anything too dissonant in any case, so Ariosti knew exactly what he was doing with these works.

Thomas Georgi’s Viola d’amore has an ‘alto’ pitch range, but while the general tessitura is lower than a violin, the colour is in fact quite bright. The strings have a thicker, more throaty texture in tone, but the overall effect is highly attractive, and the balance between violoncello and lute, the glue which links the two, is nicely struck. I note that these have been recorded in a different acoustic to volume one, but Bis’s reliably wonderful recording techniques have created another winning balance between close detail and spaciousness. It may well be that the CDs from this series end up being used as background music to chic dinners, but now all those embarrassing pauses can be filled with at least one sensible question: “…mmm, I like this music, what is it?”

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

Armas Järnefelt (1869-1958) was a member of a family which made a profound mark on Finnish culture. One of his brothers was a painter, and another an author - and their sister Aino married Sibelius. For Armas, whose chosen field was music, the close proximity of Sibelius must have been quite overpowering - in old age he himself spoke of the stifling influence of Sibelius's unique genius. Maybe this is one reason why Järnefelt's most ambitious compositions were written in relatively close succession in the 1890s, just around the time when Sibelius had his first great break-through, and also why he soon changed direction and became a conductor first and foremost. Completed in the spring of 1893, Järnefelt's Serenade was composed in Paris, and the French influence - especially that of his teacher Massenet - can be clearly heard. Its six movements encompass a wide variety of moods, with many instrumental solos adding touches of colour, for instance in the emotionally charged Adagio for violin and strings. Two year's later, in the Symphonic Fantasy, composed after a momentous visit to Bayreuth, the influences are rather Wagnerian, and especially obvious in the central slow section with its clear reminiscences of Parsifal. The programme closes with Berceuse for violin and orchestra, which in 1904 marked the end of Järnefelt's most active period as a composer for orchestra. The piece is a beautifully atmospheric miniature which has found a place in concerts of lighter music all over the world. Conducting his compatriot's music - as well as performing the violin solos - is Jaakko Kuusisto, well-known to a wider audience for his recordings as a violinist of music by Sibelius, Rautavaara and Kalevi Aho. He stands in front of the Lahti Symphony Orchestra, whose performances of the music of Sibelius have earned them world-wide recognition.

Recorded in the Aram Khachaturian Concert Hall in Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, this disc offers an opportunity to sample music by Armenian composers, here represented by three works for cello and orchestra, and is in a way a follow-up to the 2011 release [BIS-1849] which was also devoted to concertante works for cello by Armenian composers.

The program opens with Aram Khachaturian, whose 1946 concerto, which contains many Armenian and Georgian folkloric allusions and rhythmic dances like those of the Ashoug, has been described as being closer to a symphony with cello than to a concerto. The second work, Arno Babajanian’s Cello Concerto, is permeated by specific intonation rooted in Armenian folk music and folklore. The disc concludes with the cello concerto by the French composer of Armenian origin, Michel Petrossian, a work from 2022 entitled 8.4, an allusion to the book of Genesis, chapter 8, verse 4, where Mount Ararat is first mentioned. The work glorifies the symbolic and spiritual aspect of Ararat, the ‘sacred mountain’, and integrates Armenian and Byzantine liturgical chants.

The UK-based Alexander Chaushian, cello soloist in all of these works, is Armenian by birth, and has secured the expert support of the Armenian National Philharmonic Orchestra under its principal conductor Eduard Topchjan.

Initially enjoying popularity first in Germany-speaking lands and then in France, the genre of the piano duet (four hands, one piano) went on to blossom in England during the 20th century. On this album Emma Abbate and Julian Perkins present the complete works for piano duet by each of the composers selected. Palm Court Waltz, the Sonatina and Theme and Variations from Lennox Berkeley display Gallic traits, the consequence no doubt of his studies in France and his keen interest in the music of Satie, Ravel and Poulenc. While showing an evolution in the composer’s approach to tonality, every hint of seriousness is constantly balanced by elegant playfulness and diaphanous textures. Less well-known than Berkeley, Richard Arnell and Stephen Dodgson nevertheless contribute to the general atmosphere with their unabashedly tonal music that shows the neoclassical influence of Hindemith, Prokofiev and Stravinsky. Dodgson’s suite Tournament for Twenty Fingers, which gives its title to this disc, is especially full of fun while ending with a homage to the Czech composers Dvorák and Janácek. An outstanding talent, Constant Lambert held jazz in high esteem and his Trois Pièces – written to be played entirely on the piano’s white keys – form a high-spirited and heartfelt tribute to its rhythmical vitality and inventiveness.

Together with pianist Michael McHale, Michael Collins continues his exploration of the chamber repertoire for clarinet. After exploring French music (BIS-2497) and the Brahms Sonatas (BIS-2557), he now turns to British music with this recital covering a hundred years of music for clarinet and piano which reflects the special relationship between English composers and this instrument. The earliest works on this recording are the Three Intermezzi and the Sonata by Charles Villiers Stanford, who made no secret of his debt to Brahms. As with his Viennese counterpart, Stanford's music is poised yet seductive and, in this case, beautifully conceived for both instruments. Known for the strength of his vocal music, Gerald Finzi also makes the clarinet sing in his Five Bagatelles composed during the Second World War. Light and touching, they appear as a personal reinterpretation of the baroque dances found in Bach's instrumental suites. Not surprisingly, Marcolm Arnold's Sonatina has always been popular with clarinettists, with it's energy and it's nods to jazz and dance music. Last but not least, Joseph Horovitz, the last composer in chronological order, is represented by his Two Majorcan Pieces and his Sonatina. Once again, the music is playful and makes an excellent showcase for the clarinet.

The works that make up this adventurous release are all, to quote Shakespeare, "such stuff as dreams are made on". In various ways these recordings refer to night and dreams, to the distant past or to an uncertain future. With composers from Denmark, Norway, Finland, Germany and Greece, and texts ranging from fragments of ancient Assyrian and Sumerian and 8th-century Wessobrunner Prayer to many other places, the concept of "here and now" become blurred and dreamlike.

Recordings of the music of Swedish composer Kurt Atterberg

Born in Chelyabinsk in 1973, Lera Auerbach defected from the former Soviet Union to the United States while still in her teens, and she has since garnered much attention as both pianist and composer, notably in her recent work with Gidon Kremer. Written in 1999, Auerbach's 24 Preludes for Violin and Piano amply showcase her stylistic leanings and wide emotional range. Clearly, she's imbibed from the Shostakovich/Schnittke watering hole, as we hear in the frequent sparse textures in extreme registers, petulant dynamic shifts, obsessive pedal points, and caustic, folk-oriented tunes. Auerbach also has figured out what makes Astor Piazzolla tick, and manages to personalize his sultry harmonic idiom.

The most interesting moments occur when the composer's original voice pushes her influences out of the way, as in the sudden, unexpected violin cadenza that immediately follows Prelude No. 15's unrelenting dance. This leads to a threnody that gradually dematerializes into a high-register mist, and before you know it, Prelude No. 16 is over. The Postlude and solo violin piece also typify the ease with which Auerbach communicates her ideas. Vadim Gluzman and Angela Yoffe push their collective virtuosity sky-high. Such big playing requires the larger-than-life engineering BIS provides. Not only do I want to hear more of Auerbach's music, but I also hope BIS plans to take advantage of her wonderful piano playing on future releases. Enthusiastically recommended.
--Jed Distler , ClassicsToday.com

Lera Auerbach's music is direct, immediate in impact, volatile in mood, and never at a loss for big gestures. As I indicated in my review of an earlier Auerbach BIS release, the composer clearly has imbibed from the bountiful Shostakovich/Schnittke watering hole, but her own voice always comes across, especially in her gift for pulling ingenuous surprise endings out of the blue. Following the same key scheme as Chopin's Op. 28 Preludes, Auerbach's own group of 24 provides plenty of stimulating listening and comprehensive pianism. In the G major and B minor Preludes, for example, Auerbach takes the slow, obsessive repeated-note aesthetic of Ravel's Gibet to new and dramatically disquieting levels, while sprinkling sparse, dissonant melodic droplets on top of a lulling left-hand ostinato in the F-sharp major. The E-flat starts out like a brooding chorale prelude injected with late Shostakovich gloom and doom, then builds to a slow-motion, frenzied climax. The G-sharp minor contains more harmonic spice than most brutally pounded-out marches.

Although stylistically similar to the Preludes, the Ten Dreams Op. 45 are much darker in tone and last half as long (they take 21 minutes to the Preludes' 45). The opening movement of the Chorale, Fugue and Postlude is the work's strongest, where resonating B minor chords with endless fermatas stand as pillars for slow, processional chorale-like phrases that seem to provide their own Russian male choir.

I'm glad that BIS has taken advantage of the composer's keyboard prowess, because Auerbach plays Auerbach marvelously. She commands a huge sonority and wide dynamic range, along with fluid, flexible fingers that can handle anything. In particular, Auerbach is a past master at balancing those closely-voiced chords she loves so that each note stands in clear relation to its neighbor, like jewels in a tiara rather than grains in mush. She may not push the composer/pianist tradition into new terrain, yet there's no doubt that Lera Auerbach has something quite potent to say.

--Jed , ClassicsToday.com

Hakan Hardenberger and Roland Pontinen have enjoyed a fruitful artistic relationship for over forty years. They have played, toured and recorded together and have devoted much time and energy to repertoire ideas. 'For us to create a new programme is an exciting, stimulating and fun process', says Pontinen. 'A process that often mirrors our mutual interest in jazz, film and other art forms. The idea of juxtaposing works of contrasting characters, or composed centuries apart, can often shed new light on the music itself.' We are treated here to recently composed works, arrangements, favourites of both musicians and standards from the Great American Songbook. The centrepiece of the programme is Three Autumns by Staffan Storm, atmospherically connected to Anna Akhmatova's poetry, a reflection on elegiac autumn moods. Among contemporary composers, Mark-Anthony Turnage and HK Gruber, who have provided Hardenberger with more works than any other composers, are also represented. Roland Pontinen contributes two pieces, one of them a meditative work inspired by the simplicity and mood of Thomas Newman's masterful film scores. Legende by George Enescu reflects the impressionistic style of the composer's teachers. The recital is also interspersed with shorter pieces, arrangements and reinterpretations of classic American songs, and includes legendary jazzman Ornette Coleman's Chanting, a favourite encore in Hardenberger/Pontinen programmes - always improvised, every time different.

Classical Music

REVIEWS:

Masaaki Suzuki’s Bach cantata edition is by all accounts one of the best ways, if not the best, to experience this unparalleled body of music short of singing (or playing) it yourself. It stands to reason that a disc of well-chosen excerpts from the series should be a desirable acquisition, and so it is. But there is perhaps an even better reason to do so. The Bach Collegium Japan—matched by BIS Records—is donating all royalties from its sale to Tohoku Help, the Sendai Christian Alliance Disaster Relief Network for the support of victims of the earthquake and tsunami that devastated the Tohoku region of Japan on March 11, 2011.

As for the disc itself, there’s little to say other than it is self-recommending. Suzuki has not assembled a showcase of Bach’s Greatest Hits, although there’s no good reason why these particular selections could not be included if he did. The Air from the Third Orchestral Suite is one, of course. Three organ chorale preludes, played by Suzuki, and two instrumental excerpts add variety. The motet Komm, Jesu, komm sums up the program, which was thoughtfully designed to offer hope and consolation to weary souls. Bach can do that. Suzuki and friends can, too. Buy this disc.

-- Fanfare (George Chien)

Bach was renowned as a keyboard player as well as being an accomplished violinist, but as far as we know he didn't play the lute. He seems to have been fascinated by the instrument’s special sound qualities, however, and was clearly inspired by the possibilities of the Lautenwerk. This was a gut-strung harpsichord designed to imitate the sound of the lute and at least some of the works usually referred to as ‘the Bach Lute Suites’ were probably composed for this instrument. Jakob Lindberg recorded the complete suites in 1992. Returning to the composer almost three decades later, he does so in the company of his Rauwolf lute, an instrument built in Augsburg around 1590 and ‘modernized’ in 1715, during Bach’s lifetime. But this time, only two of the works belong to the standard lute repertoire – the Prelude BWV 999 and the Suite BWV 1006a, which in fact is the composer’s own arrangement of his Partita No. 3 for solo violin. For the remaining works on the disc Lindberg has taken the cue from Bach, making arrangements of Cello Suite No.1 and Sonata No. 1 for solo violin in full. He has also chosen individual movements from other solo works, including the highly complex fugue from Sonata No. 3 for solo violin. The amply filled album (88 minutes!) closes with the iconic Chaconne from Partita No. 2 in D minor.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

The two works on this disc perfectly illustrate a particular type of secular cantata, the so-called ‘dramma per musica’. In such works the libretto is constructed dramatically, and the singers embody various roles, such as gods and other characters from antiquity, and allegorical figures. The parallel with opera is apparent, although the ‘drammi per musica’ do without any scenic element. Bach primarily used the form in works intended for princely tributes or academic festivities: educated audiences could be expected to recognize the characters and literary traditions involved. Both cantatas recorded here are ‘academic’ cantatas, composed in honour of eminent members of the faculty at the University of Leipzig. BWV 205 celebrates the name day of Dr August Friedrich Müller (3rd August 1725), and takes us to Aeolia, where Aeolus, the King of the Winds, holds the mighty autumn storms captive until it is time to let them loose on the world. To prevent any disruption of the celebrations for Dr Müller, the goddess Pallas, among others, entreats Aeolus to keep the storms in check for a while longer. Grudgingly he concedes to her wish, but only after singing an aria full of splendid bluster (Wie will ich lustig lachen…). One year later, Bach composed the cantata BWV 207 for the appointment of Dr Gottlieb Kortte as ‘professor extraordinarius’. The young jurist enjoyed particular popularity among the young academics, who probably were the commissioners of the cantata. In this work it is virtues such as Diligence and Honour which take musical shape, singing the praise of the eminent academic. The cantata closes with a chorus, Kortte lebe, Kortte blühe!, wishing the new professor a long and flourishing life – unfortunately to little avail, as Dr Kortte died only five years later, at the age of 33.

Classical Music

Classical Music