18th-century Italian violinists trained in the tradition of Arcangelo Corelli, spreading his elegant, expressive and virtuosic style on their travels throughout Europe. Giovanni Mossi’s sonatas retain Corelli’sdramatic contrasts and structure, while Giovanni Stefano Carbonelli also incorporates features found in music by Vivaldi. Both composers’ works combine formal elegance with wild abandon, lyrical charm and virtuosity alongside plenty of room for improvisation from acclaimed soloist Augusta McKay Lodge.

"...Double-stopping is central to this Corellian school of violin writing, and she tackles it fearlessly. No less impressive is her sheer stamina, dashing off extended passages of dense figuration with no audible difficulty. One gets the feeling, from the way she confidently places her final cadences like a winning hand of cards, that there isn’t a single taxing bar on the album she hasn’t enjoyed getting her teeth into — and it’s safe to say the same holds true for those of us with the rather easier task of merely enjoying the results..."
David Smith, Early Music America

"...A delightful selection of Italian violin sonatas is brought to life by Augusta McKay Lodge and her fellow performers. The legacy of Arcangelo Corelli as both a player and a composer is fully on show in this album named in recognition of his influence..."
David Smith, Early Music America

Corelli: Concerti Grossi, Op. 6, Nos. 1-6

CORELLI: Violin Sonatas Nos. 1-6, Op. 5

CORELLI Violin Sonatas, op. 5: No. 7 in d; No. 8 in e; No. 9 in A; No. 10 in F; No. 11 in E; No. 12 in d, “La follia” • François Fernandez (vn); Glen Wilson (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.557799 (62:53)


François Fernandez and Glen Wilson’s readings of the last six sonatas of Corelli’s op. 5 make up the second of a two-disc set (the first issued by Naxos as 8.557165). Harpsichordist Glen Wilson has provided the notes, in which he discusses the style of ornamentation, the use of harpsichord alone in realizing the figured bass, and the choice of A=400 (at which pitch Fernandez’s 1690 Andrea Guarneri violin, hardly so viola-like as might be expected, retains a surprising edge—of course, Corelli, like many of his contemporaries, avoided more than occasional use of the G string, supposedly because the bulkier string responded more sluggishly, so the higher tessitura doesn’t focus so intently on the instrument’s lower registers). Corelli’s sonatas influenced not only his contemporaries and immediate followers, but generations to come, and Fernandez and Wilson’s performances should make them equally impressive to modern listeners as well—not because of modern instruments or reliance on astringent timbres, but simply because they make these works breathe with a similar vital force as they must have exhibited in their own time. Even in these sonatas da camera the bass counterpoint should hold the most hidebound polyphonist’s attention, yet the melodies flow liquidly in the slow movements and they leap with sprightly, though controlled, energy in the fast ones. In the Ninth Sonata, Fernandez plays, on repeats, the ornaments provided by Corelli’s student, Geminiani, available in Hawkins’s History of Music (elsewhere, they try to remain true to the spirit of models that Roger claimed Corelli himself provided. Geminiani’s “ornaments,” as Wilson notes, amount almost to recomposition—heavy handed ones, in fact, some might think, in the spirit of Geminiani’s reworkings of Corelli’s solo sonatas as concerti grossi). Throughout, Wilson and Fernandez tease the textures of these works—which could alternatively be played with a noble (deadly?) restraint as inviolable masterpieces—with textural highlights, strong underscoring of the signature sequential passages, and zesty tempos. In Fernandez and Wilson’s performance, the famous “Follia” blends a somewhat melancholy dignity with the noted technical brilliance that made it a model for virtuosic showpieces through the generations. In this joie de vivre the duo seems to be having a thumpingly good time, as did Andrew Manze in so many pieces. Yet, with Corelli’s sonatas, Manze (Harmonia Mundi 907298, 26:5), with period instruments, wove sensitive, seductive fantasies. In 20:3, I reviewed John Holloway’s more abruptly rhetorical set, on period instruments (Novalis 150-128). And I also like Elizabeth Wallfisch’s set with the Locatelli Trio on Hyperion 66391, which Nils Anderson reviewed in 14:4.


Although Fernandez draws a somewhat reedy, acerbic sound from his violin, sound never seems an end in itself, nor does he rely upon it as a means to any other kind of end than a purely musical one. The engineers have balanced the harpsichord and violin almost perfectly; the ambiance remains clear and light. These performances constitute both an irrefutable argument for Corelli’s predominance and an irresistible introduction to his œuvre . In the last analysis, the choice between Manze, Holloway, and Fernandez depends more on the listener’s aesthetic predilections rather than on any superior merit. They are all authoritative in their very different ways. Fernandez belongs in this august company. Urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

This recording of Corigliano's chamber arrangement of Mr. Tambourine Man: Seven Poems of Bob Dylan featuring soprano Laura Hynes, is coupled with Vincent Ho's virtuosic and mystical Gryphon Realms for piano trio. World premiere recordings. Corigliano's orchestration of Mr. Tambourine Man can be heard on 8.559331.

I had always heard, by reputation, of the high regard accorded the folk-ballad singer/songwriter Bob Dylan. But I was so engaged in developing my orchestral technique during the years when Dylan was heard by the rest of the world that I had never heard his songs. So I bought a collection of his texts, and found many of them to be every bit as beautiful and as immediate as I had heard – and surprisingly well-suited to my own musical language.

I chose seven poems for what became a thirty-five minute cycle. A Prelude: Mr. Tambourine Man, in a fantastic and exuberant manner, precedes five searching and reflective monologues that form the core of the piece; and Postlude: Forever Young makes a kind of folk-song benediction after the cycle’s close. Dramatically, the inner five songs trace a journey of emotional and civic maturation, from the innocence of Clothes Line through the beginnings of awareness of a wider world (Blowin’ in the Wind), through the political fury of Masters of War, to a premonition of an apocalyptic future (All Along the Watchtower), culminating in a vision of a victory of ideas (Chimes of Freedom). Several years after composing the vocal/piano score I orchestrated the work, and some years later transcribed it for Pierrot ensemble, a chamber group. This is the first recording of the chamber version. - John Corigliano

Gryphon Realms is a three-movement work, inspired by gryphon mythology, that explores the coloristic, virtuosic and expressive possibilities of the piano trio while highlighting my more personal musical language. - Vincent Ho

Listen to the Naxos Podcast to learn more about this release

These three works represent the first recording for Naxos by the National Orchestral Institute Philharmonic, which is composed of elite conservatory students from across the United States and abroad. The chosen works reflect the richness and variety of the American repertoire. A work of immense poignancy and power, John Corigliano's Symphony No. 1 is a commemoration of friends of the composer who died during the 1980s and '90s. Michael Torke's Bright Blue Music evokes rich lyricism couched in the composer's favorite key of D Major. The suite from Copland's Appalachian Spring is one of the great, quintessential American works.

Review:

Large-limbed, vivid, and intense, John Corigliano’s 1989 Symphony No 1 commemorates the Aids crisis, memorialising some of the composer’s friends who succumbed at a time when diagnosis meant death. It has also stood the test of time simply as good music, here performed superbly.

– Sunday Times

John Corigliano's Third Symphony, for large wind orchestra, represents a major contribution to the band repertoire, and its fascinating exploitation of timbre and texture should win it listeners beyond that particular niche. The concept, "Circus Maximus", promises to be fun: Corigliano compares the decadent ancient Roman entertainment district to our modern glut of cable television channels and reality TV. Movements such as "channel surfing" offer a deft Ivesian collage of sounds, while the two central nocturnes are lovely, in very different ways. My only wish is that Corigliano didn't take himself quite so seriously: to equate the slaughter and mayhem of Roman entertainment to, say, the Real Housewives of New Jersey surely is pushing the comparison too far. Moreover, it runs the risk of sounding snobbish (not the music, the notes). Remember, when Ives did this sort of thing it was the popular tunes and other found objects that he was celebrating, and the classical tradition that he was thumbing his nose at (with good reason).

Anyway, that's not really important: what matters is that this is good music whatever its inspiration, and the coupling, the Gazebo Dances, is breezy and fresh as the title suggests. Outstandingly exciting performances and terrific recorded sound round out this very attractive release of good contemporary American music. And if Corigliano is being a bit provocative, it's never at the expense of your basic enjoyment. First rate.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

CORIGLIANO Conjurer 1. Vocalise 2 • David Alan Miller, cond; 1 Evelyn Glennie (perc); 2 Hila Plitmann (sop); 2 Mark Baechle (electronics); Albany SO • NAXOS 8.559757 (57:43)


When he was first asked to write a percussion concerto, John Corigliano was reluctant. Percussion concertos he had heard too often sounded “like orchestral pieces with an extra-large percussion section,” with little or none of the interaction between soloists and ensemble which is the hallmark of the form. The problem was the very nature of many percussion instruments, which produce no discernable pitch on which to build melodic material. One answer has been to limit the solo line to pitched percussion, and some composers have quite successfully created concertos for marimba or xylophone. In Conjurer (2007), Corigliano has done that one better, creating a Concerto that uses a large range of percussion instruments, pitched and unpitched, in which the melodic material is introduced— conjured as the title suggests—by the percussionist and then developed by the orchestra and soloist, much as would happen in any solo concerto.


The trick is the clever use of sequences in which pitches are implied for the unpitched instruments. It would be merely clever, though, if Corigliano had not succeeded in his real goal. This he has done brilliantly, not only creating exciting soundscapes of a dizzying variety of percussion instruments, but also using those sounds to create real music with emotional and dramatic depth. In this, he is fortunate to have the services of that most musical of percussion virtuosos, Evelyn Glennie, who plays all of the many instruments with great subtlety, or dazzling élan, as the situation requires.


The work is divided into three movements, each preceded by an extended cadenza in which the thematic material is revealed and presented to the string orchestra. Each movement showcases a particular percussion family: wood, metal, and skin. The character of the melodic material created by each family is part of the genius of the work. I will not spoil the fun of the discovery, but I will state that the movement in which tenderness and mystery predominate does not come from the family one might instinctively expect. Further delight arises when the composer uses his strings to create percussive effects to accompany the melodic lines of the percussion instruments. I cannot but imagine that we will be hearing this work a lot, as every percussionist with the chops will want a shot at this work. It’s a tour de force for the soloist, and a musical work of real merit.


The accompanying work, which dates from eight years earlier, finds Corigliano experimenting with a different sort of sonority—that of the human voice—and with the use of electronics to enhance and augment it. Commissioned by Kurt Masur and the New York Philharmonic, the wordless Vocalise begins with a soprano voice—the pure and very lovely voice of Hila Plitmann—with a few instrumentalists in the acoustic realm. Corigliano then gradually begins to amplify it, as electronic effects add to the accompaniment, eventually enlarging the voice into a Wizard of Oz-like presence dominating an augmented orchestra climax of Straussian dimensions. The work ends as quietly as it begins, but with the voice subsumed into the echoes of the electronic processing, which, as Corigliano describes it, “gently surround the audience.”


Mark Baechle is credited with producing and performing the electronics, and the sound design—an essential part of this work—is credited to Teese Gohl and Angie Teo. (Such things are very much the creative work of humans, not “soulless machines.”) David Alan Miller and the Albany Symphony Orchestra, usually heard on the Albany label, provide impressive accompaniment to the superb soloists. The recording of Conjurer was made in the Troy Savings Bank Music Hall, with the exemplary results we have come to expect from that venue. Vocalise was recorded at the Experimental Media Performing Arts Center—who knew there was such a thing outside of Paris?—of the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, also in Troy and with an equally fine outcome. Anyone with any interest at all in contemporary composition or exemplary percussion playing will want to hear this release.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

Fragmentary, kaleidoscopic, hallucinatory … creates a wonderfully atmospheric sense of colliding realities.

REVIEWS:

3411070.az_CORIGLIANO_Violin_Concerto.html

CORIGLIANO Violin Concerto, “The Red Violin 1.” Phantasmagoria: Suite from The Ghosts of Versailles • JoAnn Falletta, cond; Buffalo Phil O; 1 Michael Ludwig (vn) • NAXOS 8559671 (61:02)

John Corigliano composed the score to The Red Violin, which turned out to be a masterpiece in its own right. Then, in 1997, with work on the score already completed while shooting on the film continued, Corigliano composed a new, 17-minute piece he called The Red Violin: Chaconne for Violin and Orchestra based on the chaconne progression he’d written for the film. But Corigliano wasn’t done with his Chaconne. Not wishing it to remain a stand-alone piece like Chausson’s Poème , Ravel’s Tzigane , or Beethoven’s Romances, he decided to write three new movements, using the Chaconne as the first movement of a substantive, nearly 40-minute-long violin concerto. And that is what we have here on this disc.

The violin the soloist here, Michael Ludwig, plays, is an 18th-century Lorenzo Storioni, from which the violinist draws a tone that is both liquid and penetrating. One could argue that Corigliano’s concerto is owned by Joshua Bell, for he has been more closely associated with it and more directly involved with the composer than Ludwig, or, for that matter, anyone else. Still, much as I appreciate Bell’s playing in general, I feel there are moments in this piece where he applies the schmaltz a little too thickly. Ludwig resists that temptation, and I think the concerto emerges the better for it.

From the opening of Corigliano’s Phantasmagoria , a suite extracted from the composer’s largely successful opera The Ghosts of Versailles , you’d never guess that this creepy, slithery music sets the stage for what is essentially a “comedy.” As a work detached from its literary references and stage setting, Phantasmagoria becomes a virtuoso showpiece for orchestra. The piece seems to divide into two approximately equal halves. Much of the first half is busy, bustling, noisy, and nutty; the second half, from 13:03 to the end, is calmer, more lyrical, and takes on the feeling of fate accepted, which it is in the opera as Marie is beheaded a second time and reunited with Beaumarchais in Paradise.

Strongly recommended.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

The Buffalo Philharmonic plays throughout with confident assurance under JoAnn Falletta’s baton. Assuming these are live performances ensemble and accuracy in these highly complex scores is excellent. In the spirit of even-handed fairness I should say I have read reviews of this disc elsewhere which make a point of praising the engineering reckoning it to be of award-winning standard. I cannot share that view but as with so many aspects of music; it is all a matter of taste. The Concerto is a very impressive work and one written with a great deal of care and love by John Corigliano – a wonderful tribute to his father. This Corigliano Concerto is right up there and hopefully its appearance on the Naxos with the benefits of distribution and affordability that brings will ensure many more music-lovers will get to hear this powerful and compelling work.

-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International

Timothy Corlis is a JUNO-nominated composer hailed for his music's depth, passion and colour. His Missa Pax, a major work, reinterprets the liturgical tradition giving it new expression and vitality. Corlis is also devoted to social change, with activism at the core of his creativity. In Loveliest of trees, a setting of A. E. Housman's poem of the same name, he celebrates nature's beauty and bounty. The place of the divine feminine in the birth of Christ is reflected upon in O magnum mysterium; the dynamism of New York City is the inspiration behind Immortality; and In paradisum reminds us that paradise is often experienced on earth.

Napoléon Coste was the most eminent French guitarist of the 19th century and a creative innovator. Fantaisie symphonique shows the range of his ambition with its quasi-orchestral textures, swift mood changes and virtuoso flourishes. Le Départ is one his most popular extended pieces, full of liquid transitions. Volumes 1–5 can be heard on 8.554192, 8.554194 and 8.554353-55.

Although Couperin is best known today as a composer of harpsichord music, he remained deeply involved in chamber music throughout his career. Les Nations is a vast project in which the virtues of both the French and Italian styles are set next to each other. Each of the four ordres celebrates a Catholic power of Europe – France, Spain, the Holy Roman Empire, and the Savoy dynasty of Piedmont – and each is a combination of an Italianate trio sonata, with its free-form virtuosity, and a large-scale and elaborate French dance suite. Juilliard Baroque brings together some of the world’s most respected and accomplished early music instrumentalists for this invigorating program.

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Review:

All eight players are totally absorbed in the style. Their often dense ornamentation never sounds calculated or contrived; their rhythmic flow in slower movements has a captivating insouciance, relaxed, gently fluid. This is French playing that would be hard to better.

– BBC Music Magazine

Although we usually associate Masses with vocal music, these solo organ works by a very young François Couperin (published in 1690) are examples of a form and style common to the place and time--one that included the organ as a significant part of the celebration of Mass, either replacing or enhancing sections of the spoken liturgy. The producers of this outstanding recording--presented in vivid, palpably realistic sound on two CDs--have chosen to include only the organ's contributions to these services, wisely eliminating the interspersed plainchant passages that would have occurred in a normal service.


While the purely musical rewards of this recital are many--Couperin exhibits an impressive range of formal/structural technical mastery, particularly regarding counterpoint and use of texture, register, and articulation for expressive/dramatic effect--organ enthusiasts will absolutely want to hear this for the commanding presence of the organ itself. The well-preserved, minimally altered 18th-century François-Henri Clicquot organ at Poitiers Cathedral is one of the world's treasures, and its indisputably authentic French credentials are on full display here, particularly regarding the assertive, rich-colored reeds (the 16' bombarde pedal stop is a treat!) and lively, lustrous winds. Organist Jean-Baptiste Robin knows this instrument well and delightfully exploits its multifarious voices (if only we had a list of the registrations he uses on each track) while making sure we hear the important inner lines and plainchant themes. If you love organ music, don't miss this--and don't be afraid to turn it up!
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Includes work(s) for hpsch by Louis Couperin. Soloist: Glen Wilson.

Henry Cowell was one of the most remarkable figures in American music. A startlingly innovative composer, an inimitable piano virtuoso who outraged or delighted his audiences, a brilliant writer, teacher, lecturer and organizer, Cowell almost single-handedly laid the foundations for American compositional life. This second Continuum Portrait of Cowell’s music ( Volume 1 is available on Naxos 8559192) includes further examples of his most experimental piano pieces, calling for strumming and plucking the strings, as well as using forearms to produce tone clusters. Other compositions fuse Asian and Western idioms in striking new blends. Yet, however advanced his ideas, or multifaceted his output, Cowell’s music remains immediately accessible.

REVIEW:

This is even more fascinating than the first volume. As previously, there is both commitment and panache from the performers and a decent recording. A well-documented and worthy addition to the American Classics series. Cowell was a prolific composer who wrote twenty symphonies and much else besides. Hopefully Naxos will give us the opportunity to explore his music further.

-- Patrick C Waller, MusicWeb

This carefully selected program by the multi award-winning Mare Duo presents some of the best original music written for mandolin and guitar, showing both instruments as equal chamber music partners in works both challenging and beautiful. The Duo’s surprising range and variety of timbre can be heard from Funk Pearson’s highly atmospheric Mountain Moor, and the intercultural sketches by Thomas Allen LeVines, to Guido Santórsola’s lyrical SonataNo.6.Ernst Krenek’s Suite is a late masterpiece that embraces virtuosity, intimacy and quirky wit, with a dramatic mini-opera as its finale, while Monk Feldman depicts an elusive ocean landscape in ThePaleBlueNorthernSky.

CUI: 25 Preludes, Op. 64

Frederic Curzon started his career as a virtuoso organist, touring countless British theatres and concert venues. From 1938 he devoted himself to composition, creating a catalogue of works that is truly astonishing for its size and scope. This recording reveals Curzon’s fascination with Spain, and also features orchestral showpieces and evocations of cultured gentility, from the swagger of The Boulevardier to the wistful nostalgia of Simonetta. The Robin Hood Suite represents Curzon at the height of his melodic inspiration. As one affectionate obituary stated, ‘he was a classic among English light music composers’.

Works for violin and piano are an important part of Cyril Scott’s chamber music. This disc presents three sonatas which span his output. The capricious and ruminative First Violin Sonata ranks among the most convincing and successful of his earlier large-scale compositions. Sonata Melodica is a more relaxed yet equally quixotic work, while the Third Violin Sonata is one of the most inventive from his later years.

FIALA / POKORNY / ROSETTI: Concertos for 2 Horns

Carl Czerny penned an astonishing amount of music, including the numerous potpourris, fantasies, teaching pieces and studies for which he became known. This recording features the delightfully entertaining Concertino in C major, Op. 210/213, as well as the highly enjoyable Rondino, a work based on an enchanting theme taken from Daniel Auber’s opera comique Le Macon. A pupil and lifelong friend of Beethoven, Czerny was just 21 when he wrote the pastoral Second Grand Concerto in E flat major. Begun only twelve days after he had given the Viennese premiere of his mentor’s Emperor Concerto, the same choice of key seems a fitting homage to the grand master he so revered.

Much of Carl Czerny’s concert music for piano was considered ‘wild and almost unplayable’ in his day, but these world premiere recordings reveal inspired melodic writing, great skill in orchestration and colourful virtuoso challenges in a programme that includes his final Concertino, Op. 650. This is the final release in the Naxos edition of works for piano and orchestra by Czerny. Previous releases can be heard on 8.573998, 8.573688, 8.573417 and 8.573254.

Carl Czerny found a continuing source of inspiration in the music of his teacher Beethoven, even after he had established himself with a series of influential pedagogic works, piano exercises and studies. His works for piano trio show a flair for vivacious themes and unusual rhythms, such as the Spanish bolero in the second of the ‘Deux Trios brillants, Op. 211’ as well as opportunities for brilliant display, notably for the pianist. The ‘Trois Sonatines, Op. 104’ are equally lively, showing a transitional style that bridges the period from Mozart to Liszt. Dr. Sun-Young Gemma Shin is an active performer on both Baroque and modern violin as a soloist, chamber musician and orchestra leader. She is presently associate concertmaster of the Champaign-Urbana Symphony Orchestra. Benjamin Hayek completed his bachelor and MM degrees in cello performance at the University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign. Hayek is active as a modern cellist in addition to his frequent appearances as a Baroque cellist. Dr. Samuel Gingher is active as a solo and collaborative pianist, and has performed in piano and chamber festivals all over the world. He is currently a faculty member at Millikin University in Illinois.

Carl Czerny’s instructional exercises may be his lasting legacy but there remain numerous largely forgotten pieces that reveal important elements of his compositional range. The four Romantic Fantasies named after Sir Walter Scott’s famous Waverley novels are piano duets of epic breadth. In them Czerny ingeniously develops popular Scottish melodies, including the use of the ‘Scotch snap’, to generate a vivid programmatic quality that explores numerous genres. Scherzos, fugal passages, chorales and marches are all featured, and raise the music – full of beauty, virtuosity and unpredictability – to orchestral proportions.

REVIEW:

Though the majority of Czerny's more than 800 works were for solo piano, there were also works intended for use in public concerts, such as the four Romantic Fantasies for piano duet composed in 1832. Each is of sizeable proportions and based on a novel by Sir Walter Scott, Czerny having been an avid reader. They used the stories that were recounted in Waverley, Guy Mannering, Ivanhoe and Rob Roy, and in his thematic material he appropriately used Scottish and English traditional melodies. Technically they are highly demanding, particularly in the many mercurial passages for the right hand of the ‘Primo’ pianist, and proved a very testing time for Pei-I Wang in Waverley. The second Fantasy, in a mood of quiet suspense, leads to the military atmosphere that opens Ivanhoe, and finally he cast Rob Roy as a weighty finale. Mid-way through the disc the North American-based duo exchange places, Samuel Gingher becoming the ‘Primo’, the young duo here offering World Premiere Recordings made in 2019. A discovery that has given me considerable pleasure.

– David's Review Corner (David Denton)

D’ALBERT Aschenputtel Suite. Overtures: Esther; Der Rubin; Die Abreise. Preludes: Die toten Augen; Gernot. Das Seejungfräulein 1 • Jun Märkl, cond; 1 Viktorija Kaminskaite (sop); MDR Leipzig RSO • NAXOS 8.573110 (75:11)

The extravagantly gifted pianist and composer Eugen d’Albert had one of those improbably full, cosmopolitan lives spanning the 19th and 20th centuries. Born to a family of French and Italian origin in 1864, the same year as Richard Strauss, he grew up in Scotland. Taking on German nationality as a young adult, d’Albert studied with Liszt, who called him “Albertus Magnus,” and had a significant association with Brahms. A leading pianist of his time, he later turned to composition and was a prominent figure in Berlin’s extraordinary musical flowering in the 1920s.

D’Albert’s style isn’t easily pinned down, since he adopted differing stylistic approaches in different works. All of his music that I have heard is very well crafted, and some of it is inspired. It tends to be lively, affirmative, and light, at times, more like Humperdinck (traditional) than Busoni (progressive), to mention two of his contemporaries. Harmonically, it’s usually less adventurous than that of Liszt or Strauss. One of d’Albert’s teaches was Arthur Sullivan, for whom he composed the Overture to Patience . The writing for female chorus in Tiefland reveals this unusual influence.

D’Albert composed 19 operas in all manner of genres, changing his style from work to work, as Mascagni also did, in the quest for popular success. He found it with Tiefland , which is sometimes called a German verismo work, and is still occasionally performed. (Recordings of the Jewish-themed Der Golem , and the brief domestic comedy Die Abreise , have been issued in recent years.) Musically, Tiefland is compelling, and in it, one hears that d’Albert’s text setting and writing for the voice are as confident as his orchestration. It’s a very satisfying work to listen to, and I can recommend the Janowski recording with Marton, Kollo, Weikl, and Moll.

There’s a lot of music in this collection, all of it unfamiliar, and some of it very impressive. D’Albert’s colorful, sumptuously orchestrated preludes and overtures aren’t brief, and not all of them make a strong individual impression, but two stand out. The overture to Grillparzer’s play Esther from 1888 resembles a fully developed symphonic movement, majestic, with contrastingly playful sections, and perhaps modeled on Brahms. The prelude and introduction to Die toten Augen (1916), a biblical tale, sounds completely different, an atmospheric combination of a Korngold movie score mixed together with La mer.

Das Seejungfräulein (The Mermaid), an extended scene for soprano and orchestra, after Hans Christian Andersen, was composed in 1897 for one of d’Albert’s six wives, the soprano Hermine Finck. (Another was the pianist Teresa Carreño.) This intensely chromatic, surging music certainly shows the influence of Wagner, but manages not to sound derivative. Though it maintains more traditional harmony, it reminds me a little of the soprano “songs” in Schoenberg’s Gurrelieder, and it’s the most impressive composition on the CD. In the strenuous vocal part that requires the power and range of an Isolde or Brünnhilde, the Lithuanian soprano Viktorija Kaminskaite has a warm, attractive voice, and a committed delivery, but she strains and loses tonal support on some sustained high notes.

Finally, the disc’s featured work, the 1924 Aschenputtel (Cinderella) Suite , after the Brothers Grimm, is a deftly scored set of five brief, programmatic dances. Keith Anderson’s notes don’t identify the suite as a ballet, but it would certainly lend itself to choreography. This tuneful, entrancing score is a masterpiece of its kind, and like Ravel in Ma mère l’oye —there’s a French feel to Aschenputtel —d’Albert had the gift of creating captivating, childlike music.

Jun Märkl leads lively, flexible performances, and the Leipzig Radio Symphony plays well, particularly in the Aschenputtel Suite , with its many solos. I highly recommend this disc for the chance to make the acquaintance of Die Seejungfräulein , although I hope that there will be future recordings of it with more technically assured singing, and especially Aschenputtel , a delightful find.

FANFARE: Paul Orgel

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Eugen D’Albert was a tremendously gifted musician, and even had he not been we would owe him respect for being married six times and inspiring his second wife, the also multiply married Venezuelan pianist Teresa Careño, to utter that immortal line, “Darling, your children and my children are quarreling with our children again!” Aside from multiple marriages, D’Albert composed multiple operas, nineteen at least, and the overtures and preludes contained on this disc are very enjoyable. They range from the moody prelude to Die toten Augen, to the the luscious The Ruby (his first opera), to the jolly comedy The Departure.

The Overture to Grillparzer’s Esther is actually a robust, early concert work, while the delightful Cinderella Suite has plenty of the requisite fairytale atmosphere. The Little Mermaid is a brilliant, post-Wagnerian scena for soprano and orchestra, and it’s quite beautifully sung by soprano Viktorija Kaminskaite. Her voice rides the orchestra effortlessly, while her tone remains consistently smooth and lovely throughout its range. Jun Märkl leads the MDR Leipzig Radio Symphony with plenty of verve and a conviction often missing from his prior recordings of Debussy.

D’Albert’s style lacks the ultimate in individuality, but it’s unflaggingly attractive, and he clearly evolved from his Wagner/Liszt origins to something more contemporary, if not more personal. Anyway, the only way to find out is to listen, so let’s get to it.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

D’ALBERT Tiefland: Symphonic Prologue. Symphony in F, Op. 4 • Jun Märkl, cond; MDR Leipzig RSO • NAXOS 8.572805 (62:40)


A recording of Eugen d’Albert’s early Symphony in F Major appeared on CPO three years ago and was reviewed by James A. Altena in 33:6. That version was conducted by Herman Bäumer leading the Osnabrücker Symphony Orchestra. D’Albert’s life story is reasonably well known, so it needn’t be recapped at length. In short, he was born in Glasgow, studied in London, and at 17 won a scholarship to study in Austria. There he was so taken with Austro-German music and culture that he repudiated his English training as worthless and from that day forward considered himself a right and proper German. He studied with Liszt, met Brahms, and built a career as one of the foremost piano virtuosos of his day. Between 1904 and 1905, d’Albert toured the U.S., and in 1907 succeeded Joseph Joachim as director of Berlin’s Hochschulefür Musik. D’Albert counted among his circle of associates and friends, Richard Strauss, who dedicated his Burleske to him, Hans Pfitzner, Engelbert Humperdinck, and Ignatz Waghalter (see the interview with Irmina Trynkos in 36:3). D’Albert’s personal life was a bit of a mess. Like Henry VIII, he married and divorced six times, though as far as we know, all of d’Albert’s wives kept their heads. When connubial contentment eluded him, he comforted himself in the arms of a mistress. His love of Germany and all things German must have soured when the First World War broke out, for in 1914, he moved to Zurich and became a Swiss citizen. He died, however, in Riga, Latvia, where he’d traveled to secure a divorce from his sixth wife.


Little by little d’Albert’s interest in composing began to overtake his career as a pianist. His output is not insignificant. It includes 21 operas, of which the seventh, Tiefland , first staged in 1903, was a major success, playing in houses around the world. It still holds the boards today, though mainly in Austria and Germany. Other works include a Cello Concerto, two piano concertos (available on Volume 9 of Hyperion’s “Romantic Piano Concerto” series), a couple of string quartets, an overture to Grillparzer’s Esther , a Piano Sonata, a handful of solo piano pieces, and lots and lots of songs.


Note: d’Albert composed the overture to Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience in 1881, just prior to his departure for Austria. Except for the cello concerto, the two piano concertos, the symphony on this disc, and his opera, Tiefland , plus several recordings of excerpts therefrom, not a lot else by d’Albert has found its way onto disc.


Another note: if you’re searching ArkivMusic for d’Albert, you’ll find him listed under the letter “A,” as Albert, Eugène d’—odd, since the site lists D’Indy as D’Indy, Vincent. Maybe it has something to do with the lowercase “d” vs. the uppercase “D.” Amazon and the Fanfare Archive put d’Albert under “D,” but the Archive purges the apostrophe, giving his name as dAlbert. How many ways can you spell “dog?” How about “dawg?”


I concur in the opinion of others that d’Albert’s compositional strength lies mainly in his mastery of the craft; his thematic ideas lend themselves well to development and he knows his way around the orchestra. I find it a bit more difficult, however, to concur with colleague Altena that Brahms and Schumann are ever-present in d’Albert’s 1886 symphony. If you’ve not heard the piece before, my guess is you would find its soundscape rather generic, as if fashioned from some factory-made, synthetic, wash-and-wear fabric. The garment fits the style of the day, but the pants are somehow baggy and nondescript. Granted, d’Albert was only 22 when he composed his one and only symphony, but attractive as it is in the moment, it’s not the sort of work whose melodies or other features linger.


If the opening strains of the Symphonic Prologue to Tiefland recall the opening of the Scène aux champs movement from Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique , it’s with good reason. D’Albert is painting a similar pastoral scene in which two shepherds are heard calling to each other on their pipes. Following that, the music seems to meander along a path on which it first meets, greets, and passes Wagner, only to encounter Debussy around the next bend walking his poodles, Pelléas et Mélisande . I confess to never having heard d’Albert’s opera, Tiefland , but if the rest of it is anything like the Prologue, I can understand the work’s success; it’s actually quite alluring, more so I would say than the symphony. But then the symphony is one of the composer’s earliest orchestral efforts—only the Piano Concerto No. 1 of 1884 predates it—whereas Tiefland came after d’Albert’s self-styled conversion to German-hood, and is a mature work by a composer already seasoned in writing for the stage by six previous operas.


I’m unfortunately not familiar with the CPO recording Altena reviewed, but this current release by Jun Märkl and the MDR Leipzig Radio Symphony Orchestra strikes me as eminently satisfactory. Playing and recording are both topnotch, and if you’re not acquainted with d’Albert’s music, this disc, at Naxos’s budget price, is an excellent way to gain some familiarity with it—enough, at least, to know whether you might care to explore further. On those grounds, recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

D’ANGLEBERT Harpsichord Suites: No. 1 in G; No. 2 in g; No. 3 in d; No. 4 in D • Elizabeth Farr (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.570472 (2 CDs: 134:26)


Jean-Henry D’Anglebert (1629–1691) published only one book of his works, all of it for keyboard instruments, in 1689. It quickly became popular, appearing in a second, probably unauthorized edition, engraved in Amsterdam. Aside from the four suites that Farr has recorded here, it contained 15 dance transcriptions from Lully’s operas, four other transcriptions of anonymous origin, five fugues for organ on the same curiously angular subject, a Quatuor sur le Kyrie for organ, and a treatise on basso continuo. Though the composer wrote in his preface that he hoped to furnish at some future date existing works in other keys, they never found their way into print. More music written by D’Anglebert, however, has turned up in an autograph manuscript entitled Rés 89ter . It is believed to have been written largely in the composer’s hand, and includes 76 pieces, 54 of which are his transcriptions of lute music. Nine are earlier versions of his published works; four in C Major, were possibly meant for a second book; while the rest are pieces by Chambonnieres, Louis Couperin, Marin and Richard Marais.


So what Naxos and Farr have provided here is all of D’Anglebert’s original, extant, and known music for harpsichord, minus the four pieces in C Major. It is almost uniformly of substantial quality, favoring polyphonic mastery and fanciful invention in a lute style brisé over the richer vertical textures and descriptive pieces of other, later French Baroque musicians. It also possesses an expressively melancholy intimacy that brings to mind at times François Couperin.


There are other links to Couperin le Grand, as well. The most important for our purposes was their mutual insistence upon notational faithfulness in performance, without changes to tempo, rhythm, or further ornamentation. Couperin wrote as much in the Preface to his first volume: “I have already added all the necessary ornaments, and I have observed the correct vertical alignment of the notes.” James R. Anthony, in turn, remarked about D’Anglebert’s music in his French Baroque Music from Beaujoyeulx to Rameau that “the music is extremely travaillée ,” or worked up in a very detailed fashion. Just how worked up it is can be judged by D’Anglebert’s preface that provided an ornament table with 29 symbols, including some he invented, and many that he employed frequently throughout these pieces. (A copy of this table in Bach’s handwriting survives, indicating that he probably knew D’Anglebert’s work.)


Music as elaborate as this, with its rhetorical flourishes and pauses, could easily become mired in particulars. However, that’s not the case on this recording. Farr is very careful not to lose the forward pulse of the music while phrasing appropriately, as the Allemande in the G-Minor Suite illustrates. Nor does this force her into hectic tempos or rhythmic stiffness. The Courante II in G Minor, for example, shows how she can sustain an almost majestically gliding sense of movement in a piece played on the slow side of adagio (66 bps). Conversely, the Gigue I from the G Major Suite is a fast moderato (116 bps) treated with exceptional metrical flexibility, yet never loses its core dance-like element. It is this knife’s edge balance between rigidity and freeness, clarity of ornamentation and momentum, as much as it is a pursuit of clarity and loving sculpted phrasing that defines Farr’s performance on this release. She does a marvelous job, aided and abetted by a pair of fine instruments crafted by Keith Hill: a fine double manual harpsichord after François Blanchet, and a delicate lute harpsichord created using the description found in Adlung’s posthumously published Musica Mechanica Organoedi (1768).


Though each of these suites has been recorded by one or more harpsichordists other than Farr, I can find no instances of all four available in a single, current release. Byron Schenkman is both vital and distinguished on Centaur 2435, offering the Second Suite and excerpts from both other suites and the lute transcriptions. Céline Frisch is stylish if slightly less relaxed than Farr in the First Suite (minus the Gavotte and Minuet) and the Second on Alpha 74. She has the advantage of offering all five of the fugues, played on the organ, as well as several of the Lully transcriptions and the originals, performed by Café Zimmerman, of which Frisch is a founding member. Neither the Third nor the Fourth Suite is included, however. Barbara Maria Willi offers the First, Third, and Fourth Suites on Musicaphon 56827 (which I have not heard), but foregoes the Second. This makes the current set recommendable even if it weren’t such a delight to hear—which, fortunately, it is.


It only remains to note that the sound on this recording is bright but close, with none of the mechanism noise or over-reverberant hall sounds that sometimes bedevil harpsichord albums. Farr supplies excellent and lengthy notes focusing on the music, while Hill offers some background on both D’Anglebert’s own harpsichord, the instruments we hear, and the practice of ravalement , adding wood to extend either the treble and/or bass of an older instrument.


Full praise to Farr and Naxos for the good they’ve wrought here. Get this if you enjoy French Baroque harpsichord music.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

The Bruch pieces are some of the best fake Brahms you?ll ever hear and afford similar satisfactions. Never less than engaging, they?re a lyric cornucopia pouring forth a gamut from wistful and elegiac through the impassioned and dramatic to the frolicsome and blithe, yet always rife with an elusive nostalgia?the Brahmsian mood par excellence . D?Indy?s Trio dates from 1887, the year after the evergreen Symphonie cévenole , and is rife with a like shake of charm and zest. Neither has lacked for fine performances?currently available, the Montagnana Trio (Facet 8003) realizes the Bruch with more Schwung , while the Amici Ensemble?s cloying ham-handedness doesn?t approach the incandescence of the West/Drinkall/Baker go at the d?Indy (which should be written into the Classical Hall of Fame, Klavier KCD-11088, Fanfare 22:1). Still, there?s no denying that the present offering gives pleasure and, if the coupling is something you?re looking for, this issue will not disappoint. Sound is close in a spacious aural frame with a good balance of instruments. Vin ordinaire , but recommendable.


FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis

SCARLATTI, D.: Keyboard Sonatas (Complete), Vol. 1

The son of Alessandro Scarlatti, who created a new school of opera in Naples, Domenico Scarlatti is particularly distinguished for his remarkable keyboard sonatas, of which some 555 are known.