Four previous releases on BIS have all featured John Pickard’s music for large orchestra – or, in the case of the Gaia Symphony (BIS-2061), large brass band. This new album, on the other hand, presents scorings ranging from a solo oboe to a chamber ensemble of eight players. The seven works cover just over 30 years; the earliest one, Serenata Concertata, was Pickard’s first paid commission written at the age of twenty. In his liner notes, Pickard notes that he has an aversion to repeating himself: ‘so each new work tends to be a reaction against the character, structure and technique of the previous one… The result has been a body of work with a wide expressive range and this disc gives some indication of that. The pieces on it are grouped in a broad progression from the serious to the more lighthearted.’ The two opening works are indeed inspired by serious matters – the background to The Gardener of Aleppo is the war in Syria, while Daughters of Zion, the only vocal work on the album, sets a text that reflects on anti-Jewish aspects of certain early Christian celebrations. In the latter work, Susan Bickley joins the players of the celebrated Nash Ensemble, who go on to lighter fare in Three Chicken Studies (Pickard himself has kept chickens as pets) and Ghost Train, a perpetuum mobile built on a cantus firmus derived from the Dies iræ theme. For this and the other chamber ensemble pieces the conductor Martyn Brabbins, a longtime collaborator of Pickard’s, wields his baton.

Classical Music

Classical Music

The three works gathered here date from Sergei Prokofiev's last years. Despite his declining health as well as the oppressive political climate, the composer could count on the support of great musicians, in particular the cellist Mstislav Rostropovitch. The relationship contributed to the writing of works for cello. The first was the Symphony-Concerto, an improved reworking of a much earlier cello concerto. As in all of Prokofiev's large-scale compositions, we find striking gestures of contrast and confrontation, disturbing juxtapositions of mood, powerful rhetoric followed by sudden passages of tender reflection. The Sonata for Cello solo is an unfinished work: a broad and eloquent Andante is heard here in the completion by Vladimir Blok. Finally, the solemn and poetic Sonata for Cello and Piano seems like an oasis of serenity in the midst of Soviet dictatorship. In a clear form devoid of anything that might have shocked the authorities, the work belongs to Prokofiev's best works thanks to it's wealth of melody, from beginning to end. Technical challenges are not absent, as demonstrated by the huge range of cello techniques. Performed by Christian Poltera, these three works bear witness to Prokofiev's creative vitality in the evening of his life, expressed in a simple, clear musical language linked to a new sense of vitality in the face of adversity.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Includes work(s) by Michael Praetorius. Ensemble: Viva Voce.

It was when Delphine Constantin-Reznik took up the post as harpist in the Norrköping Symphony Orchestra that she first came across the name Anton Pratté, well-known in his lifetime as a harpist and composer. Her research into the music and activities of this forgotten master has now resulted in the very first recording of any of his numerous compositions for the harp. Anton Edvard Pratté was born in Bohemia into a family that ran a touring puppet theatre. He came to Sweden as an adolescent, and soon made a name for himself, performing music of his own as well as by others.

Pratté gave concerts across Sweden, as well as in Norway and Finland, and in the 1840s even went on an extensive tour of Europe, performing in Berlin (where members of the Prussian royal family were in the audience), Vienna and Prague. But much of his life was spent in the area around Norrköping where he taught the daughters of wealthy landowners and for a while conducted the local orchestra society – the forerunner of the Norrköping Symphony Orchestra heard in the Grand Concert which opens the present disc. This is followed by two works for solo harp, both making use of traditional tunes from Sweden and Norway respectively.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Separately, both Freddy Kempf and the team of Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra under Andrew Litton have recorded music by Prokofiev for BIS, resulting in highly acclaimed releases. Freddy Kempf's 2003 Prokofiev solo recital was described as 'a superb disc' in Gramophone, whose critic went on to write: 'Kempf is joyfully exuberant, flashing through every savage challenge with the assurance and instinct of a born virtuoso.' Four years later, the Bergen orchestra and Litton recorded the twenty movements from the composer's three Romeo and Juliet suites, performed in the order the music appears in the ballet score. The outcome of this original approach was widely praised, for instance by the reviewer on the German website Klassik Heute: "a European top orchestra and an American conductor with great insights into the Russian repertoire meet up, and the result is sparkling, colourful, ardent and with great presence..." Kempf, Litton and the Bergen PO now join forces in an all-Prokofiev programme that includes the most popular of his five piano concertos, namely the Third, a spontaneous work, vigorous and melodic in turns and full of striking material presented in a typical Prokofiev manner. This is coupled with the Second Piano Concerto, which Prokofiev himself premièred in 1913, shocking the audience with its modernistic sounds and jagged rhythms. The original score was lost during the Russian Revolution and Prokofiev reconstructed the work in Paris in 1923. According to the composer himself, the new version was so completely rewritten that it almost constituted a new work. Between the two concertos Freddy Kempf performs the Second Piano Sonata, a key work in Prokofiev's development and full of striking and individual ideas.

Sergei Prokofiev virtually grew up at the keyboard – he composed for the piano from early childhood, and the instrument was his workshop and laboratory. Well before the end of his student days he had absorbed the virtuoso techniques of Rachmaninov and Scriabin, and to these he added his own brilliant, sharp-edged virtuosity, marked by a keen contrast between dramatic, hard-driven passages and more intimate and gentle lyrical moments. His nine sonatas therefore hold a very special place in his output and represent his language at its most personal, free of any external dramatic, verbal or visual associations: they contain the essential Prokofiev. Freddy Kempf has previously recorded four of the sonatas to critical acclaim: ‘Kempf is joyfully exuberant, flashing through every savage challenge with the assurance and instinct of a born virtuoso’ (Gramophone). With this release, he adds another three sonatas to his discography, starting with Sonata No. 3 in A minor which Prokofiev premièred in Petrograd in April 1918. Three weeks later he left Russia and only returned in 1936, after seventeen years spent in the USA, Germany and France. Premièred in 1944, Sonata No. 8 is the third and last of the so-called ‘War Sonatas’ – possibly less virtuosic than its predecessors, it has a wide emotional range, with unexpected depths. His final, ninth sonata Prokofiev wrote for Sviatoslav Richter, saying: ‘Don’t think it’s intended to create an effect.’ Often almost improvisatory, it was the last work he completed before the infamous 1948 decrees that disciplined many Soviet composers, and the first performance did not take place until 1951.

Throughout his career, Sergei Prokofiev wrote a large number of works for the stage – some of them highly successful, others less so. Whichever the case, Prokofiev would rarely miss the opportunity of recycling the score in one way or another – staying more or less close to the original in an orchestral suite or using it as material for a completely new work, such as the Third and Fourth symphonies (based on the ballet The Prodigal Son and the opera The Fiery Angel, respectively.) The present release combines suites created from Prokofiev’s very first opera (The Gambler, 1915–17) and his very last ballet (The Stone Flower, 1948–53). Based on a short novel by Dostoyevsky, The Gambler doesn’t have separate numbers that can easily be detached. Instead Prokofiev created ‘portraits’ of the four main characters, by re-assembling the music associated with them throughout the opera. The plot of The Tale of the Stone Flower was based on a collection of folk and fairy tales from mining communities of the Ural Mountains, and Prokofiev composed a 150-minute score in an idiom relying on folk elements and nineteenth-century musical traditions. While waiting for official permission to have the ballet performed, he planned a number of orchestral suites. On this recording, the Lahti Symphony Orchestra and their principal conductor Dima Slobodeniouk splice together two of these compilations: the Wedding Suite, Op.126 and the Gypsy Fantasy, Op.127, both of which were performed before the ballet itself, in 1951. The result is preceded by the opening of the actual ballet, entitled The Mistress of the Copper Mountain. These suites frame the brief Autumnal Sketch, one of the composer’s earliest acknowledged works for orchestra.

As a composer Sergei Prokofiev was so versatile that audiences never quite knew what to expect. As a strategy, this could misfire but with his first symphony he got things just right. He once described what he had wanted to achieve: ‘If Haydn had lived into this era he would have kept his own style while absorbing things from what was new in music. That’s the kind of symphony I wanted to write...’ The ‘Classical’ symphony has been a true classic since its first performance in 1918 and is one of the few genuinely witty pieces in the twentieth-century orchestral repertory. A few months after the performance, Prokofiev left Russia for the USA where he remained for some years before settling in Paris in 1923. It was here that he composed the Second Symphony, now with the aim to be as up-to-date as possible. The first audience in 1925 was more bewildered than enthusiastic, however, and Prokofiev himself came to have doubts, wondering whether in this symphony ‘made out of iron and steel’ he’d overdone the rough counterpoint and density of texture. He now returned to a project he had been working on for several years – the opera The Fiery Angel. In 1928, when he began to think that no opera house would take it up, Prokofiev decided to reuse the music and found that ‘the material unexpectedly packed itself up into a four-movement symphony’ – his Third, characterized by an overwhelming sense of anxiety and tension. The present disc is the fourth and last in a symphony cycle which has earned the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and Andrew Litton critical acclaim worldwide.



REVIEW:

This disc represents one heck of a deal–86 minutes of first-class Prokofiev courtesy of BIS, Andrew Litton and the Bergen Philharmonic. The “Classical” Symphony receives a performance in which nothing–and I mean NOTHING–gets taken for granted. Litton adopts a leisurely tempo for the opening movement, allowing sufficient time for each delectable instrumental detail to register. The entire performance sounds like chamber music writ large. At this stage in his career, Litton’s conducting has become more heavily inflected, sometimes to the point of mannerism. You can hear this approach most clearly in the Gavotte, but never (in this case) to the point of excess–and the finale is probably the most pointed and characterful version currently available. If you think you know this music cold, think again. You’ve got to hear this.

The Second and Third Symphonies both belong to Prokofiev’s “gnarly” phase, but I think they’re much better than their reputation leads us to believe. At least in these performances, Litton uncovers a world of color and nuance, never mind an abundance of melody sometimes concealed beneath and within the music’s hard-edged exterior. The Second Symphony’s concluding variation movement, for example, contains an entire population of captivating vignettes, and each one springs vividly to life. Similarly, Litton and the Bergen players beautifully declog the dense textures in the Third Symphony’s outer movements while still leaving the music plenty of room to shock. This work, in particular, has been very lucky on disc in the digital era, with superb versions from Järvi, Chailly, and above all, Muti; but this newcomer certainly belongs in their company.

In sum these performances, engineered with warmth, clarity and impact, rank with best best; and having all three symphonies on a single disc makes this release something of a bargain as well–even at full price.

– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; David Hurwitz)

This is a perfect disc. Andrew Litton’s Prokofiev symphonies have been inconsistent so far, ranging from an excellent Sixth to a ho-hum Fifth. Here absolutely everything goes right. The revised, enlarged version of the Fourth Symphony can sound bloated and too long for its material. This performance, by contrast, has passion, color, and drive aplenty. Especially in the outer movements, you’d never know that the leaner, meaner first version exists, and no praise can be higher than that.

The Seventh has always been, for me at least, a better work than many commentators allow. It contains, for example, one of Prokofiev’s best lyrical melodies in its first movement and finale. The waltz-like scherzo is wholly delightful, the slow third movement touching. Prokofiev often indulges a deliberate simplicity, and Litton takes him at his word, never for a moment lapsing into artifice or affectation.

The finale, which we get to hear twice complete, once with each of its endings, is particularly breezy and exhilarating. Through it all the Bergen Philharmonic plays gorgeously, and the SACD sonics are state-of-the-art. A wonderful release.

– ClassicsToday (David Hurwitz)

I discovered with Sakari Oramo’s Nielsen symphonies that writing off an entire cycle based on just one instalment is very unwise. To ensure I don’t do that again I’ve elected to review Andrew Litton’s Prokofiev Fifth, even though I found his Sixth rather disappointing. The Bergen Phil are a fine band, as their work with Andrew Davis, Edward Gardner and Juanjo Mena so amply demonstrates; not only that, Chandos and Hyperion seem to get better results in the Grieg Hall than BIS have managed thus far.

Then there’s the stiff competition; Neeme Järvi’s much-celebrated cycle for Chandos springs to mind, as does Dmitri Kitaienko’s for Phoenix Edition. Sakari Oramo’s Ondine Fifth and Sixth mustn’t be overlooked either. All offer very different views of the Fifth, Prokofiev’s great wartime symphony, and that in itself suggests the work responds well to opposing interpretations. Oramo’s is a case in point, for he taps into a vein of lyricism that others don’t always find. He also has a very transparent recording that exposes much of the score’s inner workings.

The Järvi Fifth dates from the conductor’s halcyon days with the RSNO – then the Scottish National Orchestra – which yielded particularly memorable recordings of Richard Strauss, Shostakovich and Prokofiev. Revisiting his Prokofiev Fifth after a long break I discovered the performance has all the spunk and spike that I remember, although the treble is fiercer and the big moments are rougher than I recall. I have no such qualms about his Scythian Suite – coupled with a white-hot Alexander Nevsky – which is my benchmark for the piece.

Litton’s Andante is powerful enough, but alongside Järvi and Kitaienko it takes a little while to limber up. Admittedly, this is the kind of music that lends itself to large, gruff gestures, but as Oramo’s forensic reading confirms there’s more to this score than that. For sheer excitement, though, Järvi is hard to beat; as for Kitaienko he plays the music with a a bold, deep-rooted conviction that’s impressive too. Litton isn’t quite so overt, so visceral, but I soon came to realise that's no bad thing. The recording is exceptionally vivid, although there's an occasional hardness in the treble.

Moving on, Litton’s perky Allegro marcato is nicely phrased, and he captures the score’s veers and vacillations very well indeed. Now this is more like it. The Bergen Phil are well up to the challenge and the BIS balances are much more believable than Phoenix's; while that certainly helps to soften the music’s sharpest edges it doesn't undermine the thrust and energy of Litton's reading. Oramo’s version is the most pliant and personal one here, but some may feel that robs the music of its pith and piquancy. As for Järvi he's as taut and compelling as ever in this movement, a reminder of just how good a team he and the RSNO once were.

The yearning Adagio with its inner musings and gentle tread finds Litton at his most thoughtful and communicative. There’s a pleasing lucidity and openness here that's most welcome. In short, this is a very persuasive account of this lovely, multi-faceted movement. Built on a smaller, more intimate scale Oramo’s Adagio is the most lyrical and colourful; the Ondine recording has a very strong stereo spread, and it’s closer to BIS's in terms of subtlety and tonal sophistication. Unfortunately Oramo allows the pace to flag, which is a shame as I like what he’s trying to do. Both are commendably refined, and that makes for more congenial performances than either Järvi's or Kitaienko's; frankly, the latter have a raw edge and restless angularity that can be a tad unremitting at times.

In that rather forceful context Litton’s frisky Allegro giocoso may seem rather reticent, although it’s actually alert and keenly paced. Not only that, there's a joy, a sparkle, to this music that brisker and more declamatory performances tend to miss. I'm also extremely imprssed by the recorded sound, which really brings out the score's muances and competing timbres. Here and in the symphony as a whole Litton is nearer to the affectionate and reflective Oramo than he is to the volatile Kitaienko/Järvi. I can live with both extremes, but it's a relief - and a pleasure - to hear Prokofiev performances that don't sound like they're being forged on a factory floor.

The Scythian Suite gets a typically febrile outing, with thumping bass and glittering treble. Järvi may have the rhythmic edge, not to mention the most spectacular recording, but Litton’s no slouch either. As with the symphony he combines slam with subtlety, and there's a mervellous sense of a tale being told. He’s aided and abetted by wide-ranging sonics and an orchestra that's in tip-top condition. Indeed, this strikes me as the very best of BIS’s Grieg Hall productions to date, and that augurs well for the rest of Litton’s Prokofiev cycle.

Despite some initial reservations I’m delighted to welcome this addition to the Prokofiev discography. These are performances that grow in stature with each hearing; in fact, not only is Litton's Scythian Suite every bit as thrilling as Järvi's, it's also the more illuminating - the most interesting - of the two.

A terrific pairing, very well played and recorded; here’s to the next instalment.

– MusicWeb International

Premièred in January 1945, Sergei Prokofiev’s optimistic and heroic Fifth Symphony had seemed to herald the victorious end of World War Two. In stark contrast to this, his Symphony No.6, which received its first performance in 1947, is one of his deepest and most personal works. Although it was greeted with enthusiasm by the audience, the Soviet authorities were critical of the work and in 1948 a Party resolution singled it out as ‘abnormal’ and ‘repellent’. In fact, the first ideas for the symphony preceded those for the Fifth, and date from a period when the issue of the war was still uncertain. Early in 1945 the composer had suffered a collapse, from which he never completely recovered and which forced him to live the life of an invalid with almost constant headaches. In regard to the work, Prokofiev himself stated: ‘Now we are rejoicing in our great victory, but each of us has wounds that cannot be healed.’ This haunted symphony is here coupled with two works which illustrate a very different side of the composer, his gift for creating vivid musical images that can sum up a scene in a few bold strokes. These are the ever-popular suites from The Love for Three Oranges, the tragic-comical opera from 1921, and from the film score to Lieutenant Kijé, a light-hearted satire from 1934. The original film score included two songs, which form the second and fourth movements of the concert suite. Often performed in a version for solo saxophone and orchestra, these are heard in this recording in their original vocal form, performed by the Ukranian baritone Andrei Bondarenko. With acclaimed previous recordings of music by Prokofiev, as well as by Stravinsky and Rachmaninov, Andrew Litton and his Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra are a tried-and-tested team in this repertoire, and once again make the most of the enormous palette of colours and moods provided by these three scores.

Celebrating the 130th anniversary of Sergei Prokofiev (1891 - 1953), the present box set brings together recordings of his seven symphonies made by Andrew Litton and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra between 2012 and 2017. Released on separate discs, the series has received acclaim from international reviewers, variously highlighting the orchestra ('Bergen Philharmonic plays gorgeously... ', ClassicsToday. Com), the conductor ('It is clear that Litton has a deep understanding of Prokofiev's complex, protean style... ', MusicWeb-International) and the recordings themselves ('BIS's blockbuster sound... ', Fanfare). The symphonies appear with their original couplings, including the popular suites from the film score to Lieutenant Kijé and the ballet The Love for Three Oranges. As an added bonus, the set includes the team's very first recording for BIS: an innovative and highly praised version of Prokofiev's three suites from Romeo and Juliet, with the 20 movements reordered to follow the ballet score.

Excerpts of reviews from previously released volumes included in this set:

Prokofiev: Symphonies Nos. 1-3

In sum these performances, engineered with warmth, clarity and impact, rank with best; and having all three symphonies on a single disc makes this release something of a bargain as well–even at full price.

– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; David Hurwitz)

This is a perfect disc; absolutely everything goes right. The revised, enlarged version of the Fourth Symphony can sound bloated and too long for its material. This performance, by contrast, has passion, color, and drive aplenty. Especially in the outer movements, you’d never know that the leaner, meaner first version exists, and no praise can be higher than that.

The Seventh has always been, for me at least, a better work than many commentators allow. It contains, for example, one of Prokofiev’s best lyrical melodies in its first movement and finale. The waltz-like scherzo is wholly delightful, the slow third movement touching. Prokofiev often indulges a deliberate simplicity, and Litton takes him at his word, never for a moment lapsing into artifice or affectation.

The finale, which we get to hear twice complete, once with each of its endings, is particularly breezy and exhilarating. Through it all the Bergen Philharmonic plays gorgeously, and the SACD sonics are state-of-the-art. A wonderful release.

– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; David Hurwitz)

Sergei Prokofiev was an adept composer of violin music. Nathan Milstein once described his first violin concerto as “indeed one of the best modern violin concertos… a brilliant piece, perhaps the finest of all Prokofiev’s works.” This work, along with Prokofiev’s second concerto is performed on this new release by Vadim Gluzman, who is critically acclaimed for his performances of the works of the virtuosos of the 19th and 20th centuries. Neeme Jarvi and the Estonian National Symphony Orchestra join Gluzman for this recording. The ensemble has been applauded for their interpretations of Prokofiev’s music.

Simply the best.

This release turned up just as James Ehnes’s superb two disc ‘Complete Works for Violin’ has been receiving massive plaudits. With this being the 60th anniversary of 1953 these coincidences are always likely, but unless SACD sound is a deciding factor when purchasing such releases this does put Vadim Gluzman and Angela Yoffe straight against stiff competition.

By any standards these are all terrific performances, recorded in stunning sound - up quite close and personal, but with plenty of space around the instruments, inviting us in rather than blowing us off our seats. The BIS balance puts the piano on a more equal footing than that with Chandos, where the violin is a little closer in feel, though not to the extent that it covers the piano. Ehnes has a fine parlando feel in the first movement of the Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 1, which heightens the emotion in a part of the piece which can sometimes sound a little static. Vadim Gluzman has this and greater eloquence, giving even passages of restraint an emotional weight which carries us forward into realms of ever increasing intensity. Ehnes is more abstract, which has its own strengths, but which keeps this first movement as more of a prelude rather than a powerful statement in its own right. The drier Chandos acoustic is less favourable to the chunky notes which throw us straight into the deep end of the Allegro brusco, played with greater on-the-edge string-grabbing heft by Gluzman. The theme at 1:07 becomes a dramatic moment here as if the entire piece has been building to this point, and Gluzman and Yoffe hold us in a grip of staggering intensity. For all its fine qualities, Ehnes and Armstrong’s performance is somewhat blown out of the water by Gluzman and Yoffe, whose Andante in this piece is meltingly beautiful, the muted violin having a nicer tone than Ehnes, Yoffe’s arabesques in the piano and the deeper sonority in the bass line phrases also having a greater expressive effect. The final Allegrissimo is hugely exciting in both performances, Ehnes and Armstong being swifter by an appreciable margin, but Gluzman/Yoffe able to muster massive sonorities and greater degrees of contrast for the more lyrical passages as a result.

For us flute players the popularity of the Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 2 in D Major Op. 94bis will always be something of a sore point, but it is such good music that, in the end, who cares what it’s played on. Once again it is Gluzman and Ehnes in competition, but the comments with regard to the first sonata are equally valid in this case. Ehnes and Armstrong are excellent, but Gluzman and Yoffe are just so much more beefy, more involving. Again it comes back to emotion against abstraction - Ehnes and Armstrong technically brilliant and musically sensitive, but Gluzman and Yoffe conjuring a considerable extra layer of poetry and empathetic impact. Little extra touches of weight on certain notes or harmonies, a little more detail in the articulation, a few degrees more breath and freedom in the music all adding up and making the big difference in the end. There are of course other competitors in this field, and that with Isabelle van Keulen and Ronald Brautigam on Challenge Classics comes from the same Sendesaal acoustic as this BIS recording. I’ve only been able to listen to this online and it does sound like an excellent release, also a Chandos-beater in these pieces but to my ears still not quite displaying the same degree of convincing musical depth and weight as Gluzman/Yoffe. Keulen and Brautigam tend to slightly swifter tempi which have their own excitement, but it is that sense of every note and phrase conveying its own message, like the sentences in an intimate letter, which makes this BIS recording a touch more special. Take the tender Andante of Op.94 bis, which both duos take at roughly similar, fairly swift and suitably unsentimental tempi. Keulen and Brautigam have fine phrasing and dynamics, but when compared to Gluzman and Yoffe appear almost just to be charging ahead and missing the points the latter find so precious. Without disturbing the flow of the music Gluzman holds onto notes a fraction longer here and there, Yoffe in perfect synchronization, introducing a sense of nostalgic yearning right from the start and delivering that sense of narrative which I always bang on about, but which I all too rarely find in actual fact. That second section is a bit like our characters have decided to go for a walk in the park on Challenge Classics, where at 1:05 our BIS artists manage to establish a magical change of mood, celestial and poetic - creating all kinds of flitting images in the mind rather than conjuring amused feet sweeping through autumn leaves.

The Three Pieces from ‘Romeo and Juliet’ open with ‘that music off of BBC’s The Apprentice’, Montagues and Capulets performed with maximum power and a sense or real orchestral thrust from pianist Angela Yoffe. Prokofiev wrote all too few works for violin and piano, and this arrangement by D. Grjunes is a fine addition to the repertoire, also including the Dance of the Girls with Lilies and Masks.

I’ve admired Vadim Gluzman’s playing before, and all of his recordings on the BIS label can safely be recommended. It’s tricky to be definitive, but of the more recent recordings of these sonatas I have heard this would be the one for me. There are others. Ilya Grubert and Matti Raekallio on Ondine is potent stuff, but Grubert is a bit shouty on some accents and there are too many unappealing moments to make this a real contender. You might come across Joseph Szigeti and Joseph Levine’s historical performance as a digital download from Past Classics, and while this is of great interest I can’t bear Szigeti’s wobbly vibrato, and the balance between violin and piano in the Second Sonata is terminally in favour of the violin, which sounds as if Szigeti is playing while sitting on your lap. So yes, with stunning SACD sound, everything in its favour and with musical qualities which make this a recording to relish for years to come, I’m going to stick my neck out and say Vadim Gluzman and Angela Yoffe are the best for these two Prokofiev masterpieces.

– Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

To the general public, Masaaki Suzuki is known as the inspired leader of Bach Collegium Japan, currently undertaking a complete cycle of Bach's cantatas for BIS. He has also received much praise for his on-going recordings of the harpsichord music by the same composer. But his début was actually as an organist - he started playing regularly at Sunday services at the age of 12! When going to the Netherlands to study, Suzuki pursued parallel courses, graduating with a soloist's diploma in both organ and harpsichord. The years spent in The Netherlands also explains his familiarity with the musical world of J.P. Sweelinck, and with the traditions of the Dutch Reformed Church with its ties to Calvin and his 'Genevan Psalter'. The attractively varied programme on this disc alternates secular music for the organ with Sweelinck's settings of psalms from the Genevan Psalter. Due to the suspicion with which the Dutch Reformed Church - and Calvin - regarded instrumental music in religious contexts, these settings were not intended to accompany the congregational singing, but were rather played either before or after the service, providing an opportunity for meditation and afterthought. They fill a similar role on this disc, sandwiched as they are between the more extrovert Toccatas and Fantasias, but also testify to the central place these psalms had in Sweelinck's work. As an epitaph put it, it was he 'who put to music David's royal word, And made it to resound in Zion, in Holland it was heard.' The organ chosen by Masaaki Suzuki is a splendid instrument built by Marc Garnier according to the Northern German and Dutch style of the mid-17th century, especially for the use in the services of the Kobe congregation of the Reformed Church of Japan, where the tradition of congregational singing of Calvin's Genevan Psalter is particularly strong.

At the age of 20, Henry Purcell entered his 14 Fantasias and two In Nomines into an autograph bearing the title ‘The Works of Hen; Purcell, A.D. 1680’. Despite his youth Purcell was already making his mark as a composer, writing music for the London theatres and holding posts at Westminster Abbey and at court. But unlike his works for the theatre and the church, which were intended for specific occasions, very little is known about the impulse behind fantasias. Composed for between three and seven parts they are a consciously anachronistic distillation of an old style at a time when the reigning taste was for more modern sounds – for dance-based music with lively rhythms and hummable tunes. It isn’t even clear what kind of ensemble they were intended for: given the association with older music, one might assume that Purcell had viols in mind, but the distribution of the parts is not always in keeping with the standard sizes of the viol consort – nor for that matter those of the violin consort.

Were the fantasias in fact ever performed? None of these questions has a satisfactory answer, and in this respect the Purcell Fantasias resemble Bach’s The Art of the Fugue, because of their quality and inventiveness but also owing to the mysteries that surround them. The collection is here performed by Chelys Consort of Viols, following up on three previous and acclaimed releases on BIS featuring the music of Michael East, John Dowland, and Christopher Simpson.

REVIEW:

The Chelys readings, clean and rather circumspect, merit strong consideration for those interested in these youthful and intellectual Purcell works. Nicely recorded by BIS at Girton College Chapel, Cambridge, they don't overdo the mystery: the sound is clean and the polyphony clear. The pungent dissonances scattered through these works, which were a feature of the tradition (not just of Purcell's pieces), emerge with the proper emphasis, but the Consort does not lean into them unnecessarily.

-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

In 2009, at the age of 19, Haochen Zhang became one of the youngest musicians ever to win the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition. Since then he has had a busy concert schedule, primarily in his native China and in the U.S.A. but also in Europe where he made his début at the BBC Proms in 2014. Recording has been less of a priority for Zhang, and it is only now that he releases his first studio album, recorded at the Reitstadel, the well-known audiophile venue in Neumarkt in Germany. For this recital, Haochen Zhang has devised a programme made up of works that he feels particularly close to. As he writes in his own liner notes, they ’not only speak to me in a very intimate way, but also connect with one another at a corresponding level of intimacy: as a whole they form a unique musical narrative.’ The pieces all share a reflective and introspective quality, albeit reflective in different ways.

Opening the disc, Robert Schumann’s Kinderszenen were described by the composer as ‘reflections of an adult for adults’ and in the closing Op. 117 Intermezzi, Brahms also seems to be looking backwards – but with resignation rather than intimate tenderness. Framed by these two, the works by Liszt and Janáček contain overtly dramatic episodes, but contemplative interludes form a recurrent feature of the Ballade, and in Presentiment, the first movement of Janáček’s Sonata, the dark forebodings seem to rise up from the composer’s own soul.

Classical Music

The music of the Russian Orthodox Church was an essential part of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s musical background. As a boy he was deeply moved by the sound of St Petersburg’s cathedral choirs, and phrases reminiscent of liturgical chant permeate his music. His Vespers has long been admired as a summit of Russian liturgical music. It has unfortunately tended to overshadow the Liturgy of St John Chrysostom, his earlier large-scale sacred composition. Named after the fourth-century Archbishop of Constantinople and Church Father, the Liturgy consists of a sequence of prayers, psalms and hymns, which are sung or chanted by the different participants in the service. Rachmaninoff did not make use of any existing chants (as he would later do in his Vespers), but chose to reflect their style and spirit with music entirely of his own. The sonorities he creates is rarely achieved by plain four-part writing: instead the voices are frequently divided, solos emerge from the choir, and the range of textures shows great imagination. The Liturgy is here performed in the warm acoustics of the Niguliste Church in Tallinn by the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir – listed among the ten best choirs in the world by the BBC Music Magazine in 2020 – conducted by Kaspars Putninš.

REVIEW:

Rachmaninoff himself esteemed this work highly, and when it receives the careful performance it gets here, it is indeed lovely. Choral music in the Baltic countries maintains a very high level of quality, and this small choir is arguably the jewel in the crown. Note that some online sources designate this as a reading of "excerpts," but it is not; Putniņš omits only some short responsorial sections, including one short movement, in accordance with the preference of modern editors. A wonderful performance of this Rachmaninoff masterwork.

-- AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)

Sergei Rachmaninov was one of the twentieth century’s outstanding pianists, but the large body of purely orchestral music he composed is no less an expression of his musical character. His great strength was that he managed to preserve intact a vision he had discovered very early in life. This contemporary of Schoenberg, Scriabin, Ravel and Ives was unconcerned with musical fashions and had no wish to be a pioneer. Instead, and over a period of half a century he refined and deepened a language which derived naturally from his late-nineteenth-century Russian background.

With this four-disc box set, the Singapore Symphony Orchestra and Lan Shui present a comprehensive collection of Rachmaninov’s music for orchestra – from the Scherzo in D minor, his first surviving piece for orchestra, completed just before his fifteenth birthday to the canonical works: the Symphonies and the Symphonic Dances. The recordings were made between 2008 and 2015, with the three symphonies (previously released on separate albums) described as ‘eine formidable Gesamteinspielung’ on the website Pizzicato. But there is much more to Rachmaninov’s orchestral music besides the symphonies, and this box offers the listener opportunity to explore the young composer’s fascination with Gypsy themes (in the excerpts from the opera Aleko and Capriccio bohemien) as well as his lifelong preoccupation with death, in the form of the four notes of the Dies irae plainchant motif. This is heard again and again in Rachmaninov’s music, up until his very last work, the Symphonic Dances, where, at the very end of the third and final dance, this symbol of death is finally laid to rest.

REVIEWS:

It would be difficult to imagine a more compelling or indeed idiomatic account of the First Symphony than Shui’s...this is a first-rate set, with sound to match.

-- HiFi (UK)

Rachmaninoff’s All-night Vigil - sometimes erroneously referred to as his Vespers – is in fact a hybrid of three Russian Orthodox services; Vespers (movements 1 to 6), Matins (7 to 14) and First Hour (15). There have been a number of well-regarded recordings of the piece in recent years, two of which spring to mind: the first is from Sigvards Klava and the Latvian Radio Choir, the second from Paul Hillier and the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir. Those are fine Baltic ensembles, expertly led, and their collections are always worth your time and money. Besides, they tend to get top-notch recordings, too.

The Netherlands Radio Choir, founded after the Second World War, is a 68-strong group with a number of world premières to their name. That makes them a good fit with Kaspars Putniņš, chief conductor of the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir, who is a tireless promoter of contemporary choral works. That said, his repertoire is wide-ranging, so Rachmaninoff is well within his artistic purview. Incidentally, this recording includes a filler, The Theotokos, Ever-Vigilant in Prayer, which Rachmaninoff composed in 1893. A precursor to the Vigil in style it burns with a quick, fierce flame. An intriguing little bonus.

First impressions of Putninš’ Vigil are entirely positive. The bass and tenor soloists – Gert-Jan Alders and Matthew Minter respectively – are ideally spaced at the start of O come let us worship, and the choir’s response is both refined and radiant. The alto Pierrette de Zwaan – who appears in Praise the Lord, O my soul – is just as ravishing, the choral cadences gentle but telling. Goodness, this is singing of the highest order; weight and blend are well nigh perfect, as is the open, airy sound. This may be a studio recording, but there’s breadth and depth aplenty, with no obscuring echoes. Indeed, the ‘goose-bump quotient’ is very high, even at this early stage.

Minor caveats aside, this is a splendid account of Rachmaninoff's masterpiece. The Dutch bring emotional intensity to the Vigil; you must hear it.

– MusicWeb International (Dan Morgan)

Completed in 1891 and 1895 respectively, the Piano Concerto No.1 and the D minor Symphony were Sergei Rachmaninov's first large-scale orchestral compositions, written by a young man still in his early 20s. The composer, whose self-critical vein was evident from the start, almost immediately decided to revise the concerto, even though he did choose to perform it in its original form when he made his London début as a pianist in 1899. Two years earlier, the symphony had been premièred, an event which has become notorious as one of music's great disasters: the rehearsal time had been completely inadequate, and Glazunov, who conducted the work, was less than sympathetic to it - and may also have been drunk during the performance. The scathing reception caused Rachmaninov to doubt not only the quality of the work, but his own gifts as a composer, and he didn't write anything of importance for three years. In 1917, he did revise the piano concerto, making use of the experience gained from having in the meantime composed the immensely successful 2nd and 3rd piano concertos and performing them numerous times himself. Rachmaninov also repeatedly expressed the wish to return to his first symphony, but the score was lost in the upheavals of the Russian revolution and the composer's move to the USA. Not until after his death in 1943 was a set of the original orchestral parts rediscovered. That Rachmaninov never forgot the work is however proven by the fact that he quoted it in his very last orchestral composition, the Symphonic Dances from 1940. The Singapore Symphony Orchestra and Lan Shui have previously impressed critics worldwide with their performances of Rachmaninovs Second and Third Symphony, and are once again joined by the piano soloist Yevgeny Sudbin, with whom the team recently recorded what the reviewer in American Record Guide described as 'the most stunning performance of the Rhapsody [on a theme of Paganini] I've ever heard.'

RACHMANINOV OGAWA, NORIKA; MALMO SYM. ORCH/ O.HUGHES PIANO CTOS NO.S 1&4; PAGANINI RHAPSODY