To witness a performance of Delius’s A Mass of Life, arguably his supreme creative achievement, is to look into the heart of the composer and his Nietzsche-inspired world. Moreover, this ravishing music, written between 1898 and 1905, represents Delius at the height of his powers, when musical ideas seemed to pour out of him at a time when he had finally learned to assimilate, in an entirely individual, not to say maverick manner, a confluence of modernist styles embracing Grieg, Wagner, Strauss, Charpentier and Debussy.

There is no doubt from the vivid opening choruses of Parts 1 and 2 of this recording (and what openings!) that the message of the work is a life-affirming one. There is a dynamic momentum to the tempi which perfectly evokes Zarathustra’s ruling passion, the Will of Man, and there is a richness to the orchestral sound which adds to the sense of muscularity. The chorus negotiate Delius’s often awkward vocal intervals with great skill and the intonation is virtually flawless. Just occasionally the sheer weight of the orchestral sound, which is quite forward on this recording (more so than Hickox), is apt to overwhelm the voices but this is a minor distraction.

Hill brings energy and élan to the third section, ‘In deine Auge’ (for me perhaps the most exhilarating section of Part 1), where the parallel with the end of Act 2 of Die Meistersinger is almost palpable and where the most unusual example of a Delius fugue (!) is given life, vigour and meaning.

Alan Opie, who has the lion’s share of the solo music in the work, is almost Wotan-like in his performances. From his first Nietzschean dance he is majestic and brings out of the score that vibrant, heady, Teutonic contemporaneity with which Delius had clearly become enthralled at this point in his career. Opie’s singing of what is effectively the role of Zarathustra has immense authority and his impressive range (up to high G) is ideal for Delius’s onerous vocal demands.

Andrew Kennedy, Catherine Wyn-Rogers and Janice Watson also offer fine lyrical interpretations of their solo parts and the choral accompaniments are allowed to intermingle subtly as an extension of the orchestra. The BSO are on fine form too, and special mention needs to be made of the haunting horn-playing in the introduction to Part 2 (‘On the Mountains’), a sound which sums up so much of Delius’s nature music.

This is a must for any Delius Liebhaber and, with the added bonus of the late Prelude and Idyll, a marvellous starting point for anyone new to Delius’s unique but compelling art.

-- Jeremy Dibble, Gramophone


DELIUS A Mass of Life. Prelude and Idyll1 • David Hill, Cond; 1Janice Watson (sop); Catherine Wyn-Rogers (mez); Andrew Kennedy (ten); 1Alan Opie (bar); Bach Ch; 1Bournemouth SO • NAXOS 8.572861-62 (2 CDs: 118:19 Text and Translation)

A Mass of Life is quintessential Delius, musically and existentially, composed over 1904–05 in the first great rush of his maturity. From the bounding affirmative choruses to the breathtakingly sustained nature contemplations, from the melancholy to the ecstatic, the Mass of Life traces and forecasts the gamut of Delian affect with a concision, fullness, and abundance he might rival but never achieve so comprehensively again. Unless I’ve missed something, this is but the fourth recording of the work since Beecham’s nonpareil 1952 account. Though its musical demands are daunting—if nowhere near as challenging as those of Mahler’s “Symphony of a Thousand,” with which it invites comparison—the primary bar to frequent performance is its text, drawn by Delius’s friend Ernst Cassirier largely from the Dance Songs of Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra. For those coming in late, one recalls the oft-quoted passage in Eric Fenby’s Delius as I Knew Him: “When, one wet day … he was looking for something to read in the library of a Norwegian friend … and had taken down a book, Thus Spake Zarathustra—a book for all and none—by one Friedrich Nietzsche, he was ripe for it. The book, he told me, never left his hands until he had devoured it from cover to cover. It was the very book he had been seeking all along, and finding that book he declared to be one of the most important events of his life. Nor did he rest content until he had read every work of Nietzsche that he could lay his hands on”—to which Fenby, a devout Catholic, adds—“and the poison entered his soul.” For listeners and performers today it may still be something of a jolt to find, in place of the supplicating Kyrie that the unfortunate term “Mass” leads one to expect, a glowingly charged hymn to the Will, “dispeller of need, my own necessity,” followed by Zarathustra’s brief praise of laughter (“My own laughter I pronounced holy”), succeeded by Zarathustra’s love duet with Life in a meadow filled with dancing girls, an archetypal encounter transpiring in a mythical dimension “beyond good and evil,” beyond place and time, crowned by the first, murmured, utterance of the Bell Song, the work’s central mystery. A Mass of Life may, of course, be enjoyed for its power and sensuous magic without reference to its text, but only to those nurtured on Nietzsche will it reveal its full import. Shrugging incomprehension of the text renders Benjamin Luxon’s Zarathustra, for Charles Groves (with the London Philharmonic Chorus and Orchestra), merely mellifluous, while Peter Coleman-Wright’s deadpan delivery for the late Richard Hickox—with the Waynflete Singers directed by today’s conductor, David Hill, and the Bournemouth Symphony Chorus and Orchestra—proves anesthetically workmanlike. When it appeared in 1997, I rated that reading, on Chandos, the best since Beecham’s (Fanfare 20:6). That honor goes now to the present offering. While Alan Opie does not efface memories of Bruce Boyce, for Beecham—whose delivery resonated from the nexus of Delius’s realization of Nietzsche—he teases the text gingerly, making a credible Zarathustra. In some numbers, Delius asks the soloists to share parts, with some of Zarathustra’s lines persuasively taken by Andrew Kennedy, and a portion of Life’s happily rendered by Janice Watson, though Catherine Wyn-Rogers’s beguiling, seductive Life recalls Monica Sinclair’s divinatory geste for Beecham. The choral work is beyond praise, though in Hill’s brisk approach the melting lyricism heard chez Beecham tautens and leaps.

Idyll is a late reworking of music from Margot la Rouge, composed in 1902 for the new opera competition offered by the music publisher Sanzogno. Though it failed to score and was not heard in Delius’s lifetime, it comes from the composer’s ripest years and contains gorgeous swaths of his richest utterance, which he salvaged in 1932, recomposing it to words by Whitman and making an extended love duet of it. Idyll has not lacked for vocally lustrous, persuasive performances submerging Whitman’s quaintness (“Behold me when I pass, hear my voice, approach, draw close, but speak not. Be not afraid of me”) in absolute conviction. Of major interest, the lovingly lingering 1981 account led by Eric Fenby—who took down the score from dictation by the blind, paralyzed Delius—features Felicity Lott and Thomas Allen (deleted Unicorn-Kanchana UKCD 2073). Meredith Davies’s still-available 1968 tilt at Idyll, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, is made memorable by the divinatory partnership of Heather Harper and John Shirley-Quirk. In keeping with his go at the Mass of Life, Hill pushes the work a bit, spurring the impassioned moments to escalate from the pervasive tone of wistful elegy. Opie, as the anonymous man, is authoritatively resonant, in response to Janice Watson’s brightly edged soprano (touched by a bit of vibrato), with its gloriously amber lower register, buxomly filling the part of the nameless woman.

One caveat: In the headnote the title of the work is given per the album, but you will search the catalog of Delius’s works in vain for an orchestral Prelude. The work so designated is simply the first three minutes—an orchestral prelude, to be sure—of Idyll and has never, until now, been listed separately. The fake title generates a phantom work to bedevil buyers, scholars, and connoisseurs, and detracts from—rather than adding to—the program’s generosity.

Sound packs an immediate wallop making for occasional congestion. In the opening chorus, for instance, the leaping underlining of trombones and tubas becomes indistinct, overwhelmed by choral mass, and while one can pick out the glockenspiel, its function of festive accentuation is lost. In quieter passages, and in the capture of the vocalists, on the other hand, this upfront take is gratifyingly welcome. In German, Zarathustra’s pronouncements recall and parody the Lutheran Bible, in light of which the ostensibly stilted thee-ing and thou-ing of William Wallace’s singing translation—made for Beecham and used by him for all of his public performances (according to notes by Delius aficionado Lyndon Jenkins)—fall into place, if not quite into King James English. Whitman’s text is included.

In sum, a superb production and the grandest addition to the Delius discography in many years. Highest recommendation.

FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis

The orchestra relishes Delius’s contrasts.

It is a delight to welcome performances of two of Delius’s American-inspired works by forces from Florida, where Delius lived from 1892 to 1895. Although Sea Drift, a setting of a poem by Whitman, is overtly about an American subject, the music is more universal than specifically American. While the initial drafts of Appalachia were made in Paris the year after Delius left Florida - Marco Polo, Naxos’s sister label, once had a recording (8.220452) of this earlier version in their catalogues under the title of American Rhapsody - the work was very substantially expanded to the form we have it here some eight years later, long after Delius had returned to Europe.

I first heard Sea Drift in the original Beecham recording issued on a limited edition Delius Society release of four 78s (now on Naxos) - I still have them. Beecham’s account of the score remains a marvel of sympathetic identification with the spirits of both Whitman and Delius. Unfortunately all of his recordings - and there are a good many of them, from studio and live broadcasts, not all currently available - are in mono. This is a score which absolutely demands the atmosphere of stereophonic sound. Similarly Beecham never recorded Appalachia in stereo, and his last (mono) LP (reissued by Sony) suffered from a baritone who had seemingly been chosen for his ability to sing Danish for the coupled recording of the Arabesque rather than any ability to sing sympathetically in English for the closing ‘negro spiritual’ section of Appalachia. One cannot possibly accuse Leon Williams of sounding un-American, but the tone of his voice is nevertheless rather English and rather too polite. He is not helped by the rather close proximity of the microphone, which brings him closer than the rest of the performers rather than blending him into the whole. Bryn Terfel, in his Chandos recording of Sea Drift with Richard Hickox (coupled with the Songs of Sunset and Songs of Farewell), digs far more deeply into the meaning of the words than Williams does here. The emotion of the latter is too generalised, and his voice lacks the light and shade of Terfel or John Shirley-Quirk on Hickox’s earlier Decca recording.

Appalachia fares rather better in this reading. The orchestra relishes the contrasts in Delius’s set of variations, with a nicely winsome touch in passages such as the waltz variation at 19.57; Beecham allowed a very gusty breath of the ballroom to intrude here. Earlier they are beautifully atmospheric in the passage from 17.01 which recalls Delius’s Florida opera The magic fountain. The chorus is nicely distanced in their brief interjections in the earlier variations, and come into their own with the own variation at 27.50, when they appear to move closer. Unfortunately the close microphone placement given to Williams at 31.52 serves only to emphasise how precisely English is his diction, and the choir are now very far forward indeed, which brings a sense of stridency which is entirely foreign to the Delius idiom. The passage at 33.28 sounds uncomfortably like the closing titles for a Hollywood Western - not at all the area of America that Delius had in mind.

This Naxos disc duplicates exactly the contents of one of Richard Hickox’s earliest recordings of British music, issued originally on an Argo LP in 1980, with Shirley-Quirk at the peak of his form in the baritone solos, which is certainly a reading which deserves to be in any Delius collection - it remains available from Arkiv Music . The Naxos recording is more immediate in general sound than the analogue Hickox, but the latter has plenty of atmosphere and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra - many of whose members must have played this music under Beecham - respond with affection to Hickox’s somewhat slower tempos. Indeed Sanderling could sometimes be accused of hurrying, as at the baritone entry at 2.58 where the soloist sounds a bit hustled. It is important to keep Delius’s music moving, not allowing it to stagnate, but the flow can be maintained without undue haste; Sanderling shaves nearly four minutes off Hickox’s speeds in his earlier recording, almost a fifth of the whole duration of a fairly short work. Beecham, even with the constraint of 78 sides, was slower than this, and Delius always expressed his conviction that this conductor understood his music better than anyone else.

It is always a suspicion that when one knows a particular performance well one might be allowing nostalgia to colour reactions to a performance. To test this I played the recording of Sea Drift to a friend of mine who, although he knew and loved the poem, did not previously know the music at all. He like me vastly preferred Hickox, observing that although that performance was noticeably slower, it at the same time had a sense of purposeful motion that Sanderling lacked. He also actually preferred the more integrated sound of the older recording.

Naxos’s cover photograph by Giorgio Fochesato is particularly beautiful and appropriate, and the booklet commendably includes the complete texts of both works. The orchestra and chorus both perform superbly; it is nice to hear a really big choir sing this music - 137 singers are listed - as Delius would have expected in his earlier performances. They maintain pitch even in the most exposed passages of Sea Drift.

-- Paul Corfield Godfrey, MusicWeb International

This is an excellent Delius collection, as interesting for the repertoire as for the high quality of the performances. There are some real novelties here, including the American Rhapsody (later to become Appalachia in its expanded version) and the first recordings of Three Small Tone Poems, only one of which--Summer Evening--is at all well known. Sleigh Ride appears under its original title, Winter Night, as the centerpiece of the triptych, while Spring Morning wasn't even published until the late 1980s. So what we wind up with is three quarters of a Delian Four Seasons, with Spring Morning a wholly characteristic essay in the composer's early "Grieg meets Debussy" style.


As for the remaining items, The Walk to the Paradise Garden receives a beautifully flowing, ecstatic reading from Lloyd-Jones, while Two Pieces for Small Orchestra ("On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring" and "Summer Night on the River") benefit from fine wind playing and tempos that never let the music meander excessively. A Song before Sunrise and Delius' last completed (with Eric Fenby's help) orchestral work, Fantastic Dance, complete this well-planned, career-spanning collection. Naxos' sonics rank with the finest work on the label, as is usually the case with its Glasgow recordings. Strongly recommended both for the novelties as well as for the more popular items.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

DELIUS: Paris / Brigg Fair / Eventyr / Irmelin / La Calinda

Michael Dellaira has become one of America's leading opera composers, receiving acclaim and awards for compelling stage works including The Leopard (Naxos 8.669052-53). Based on Elisha Kent Kane's expedition to find the Northwest Passage in the mid-19th century, Arctic Explorations is a study on the human desire to discover what lies beyond the boundaries of our experience. The effects of global warming and the plight of the Inuit in one of the most beautiful but endangered places on earth also forms part of the narrative.

"[A] lovely recording of four flute concertos by François Devienne. Playing on modern instruments..., [Patrick] Gallois and the Swedish Chamber Orchestra do a marvelous job of conveying the lightness and the joyful elegance of Devienne’s very French style. The album is a sheer delight from beginning to end." – Rick Anderson, CD HotList

French composer Francois Devienne enjoyed great esteem with his successful operas in the Revolutionary years of 1792-97, but it was as a composer for wind instruments that he has won his place in musical history. The four Flute Concertos in volume 2 of the complete set show a combination of melodic elegance and graceful virtuosity that characterizes much of his work. Especially notable in this respect is No. 6 in D major, a compositional tour de force, rich in thematic material and panache, and one of the finest wind concertos of its epoch.

Francois Devienne performed as an orchestral bassoonist and flautist but rose to fame as an operatic composer. His greatest achievement, however, lies in his sequence of Flute Concertos, of which this is the final volume. Despite his failing health, the four works on this recording demonstrate the hallmark combination of melodic elegance and graceful virtuosity that characterizes Devienne’s flute concertos and are among the most attractive of their time. Concerto No. 10 is one of his masterpieces, distinguished equally by the beauty of its thematic material and its confident, cohesive musical structure. Patrick Gallois belongs to the generation of French musicians leading highly successful international careers as both soloist and conductor. From the age of seventeen he studied the flute with Jean-Pierre Rampal at the Paris Conservatoire and at the age of 21 was appointed principal flute in the Orchestre National de France, under Lorin Maazel, playing under many famous conductors, including Leonard Bernstein, Seiji Ozawa, Pierre Boulez, Karl Bohm, Eugen Jochum, and Sergiu Celibidache. He held this post until 1984, when he decided to focus on his solo career, which has subsequently taken him throughout the world.

Agustin Barrios Mangore was one of the greatest guitar virtuosi of his time and something of a pioneer in making recordings, which he began as early as 1910. His compositions offer a lexicon of technical and expressive devices for the guitar, from both the South American and European traditions. This penultimate volume in the series offers the scintillating Estudio No. 6 which demonstrates some of the composer's finest artistic characteristics such as poignant treble melodies and a mastery of harmonic progression. Other works include examples of the Paraguayan polka, the Zamba, Creole airs, the Serenata and many other pieces attesting to Barrios's inexhaustible individuality and variety. Celil Refik Kaya was awarded First Prize at the JoAnn Falletta International Guitar Concerto Competition in 2012 and has since received multiple awards from several prestigious American guitar competitions, as well as the Rising Young musician of the Year by the Donizetti Classical Music Awards in Istanbul in 2017. Kaya has performed in the most prestigious concert halls and festivals around the US and Turkey, including Carnegie Hall, the Frick Collection Museum, NYCGS, Round Top, Brevard and Ankara International Music Festival, as well as numerous radio and TV broadcasts throughout the US and Turkey. Kaya is also an avid composer, with his chamber and instrumental works being performed throughout the US, Turkey, South Korea, and Australia.

DI VITTORIO Overtura Respighiana 1. Symphony No. 2, “Lost Innocence 1.” Ave Maria 2. Symphony No. 1, “Isolation 1.” Clarinet Sonata No. 1 3 • 1,2 Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; 2 Respighi Choir; 3 Benjamin Baron (cl); 1 New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572333 (56:52)


RESPIGHI Aria for Strings. Violin Concerto in A. Suite for Strings. Rossiniana: Suite • Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; Laura Marzadori (vn); New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572332 (77:32)


If Palermo-born Salvatore Di Vittorio (b.1967) is new to you (as he is to me), based on these two Naxos releases you might be justified in thinking he’s a third-generation relation to Italian composer Ottorino Respighi. That’s because as a conductor, Di Vittorio leads an ensemble he founded and named “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York in a program of works by Respighi. As an arranger, he revised and/or completed three of the works heard on the second of these two discs. And as a composer, Di Vittorio has been hailed as a “lyrical romantic … following in the footsteps of Respighi.” Though a reading of Di Vittorio’s biography on his website (salvatoredivittorio.com/bio.html) discloses no direct link to the former composer, it appears that Respighi is near and dear to Di Vittorio’s heart.


In a sense, you might say that in at least one of his compositions, Overtura Respighiana , Di Vittorio has channeled Respighi to write music that the real Respighi might have written himself, for the piece is a devilishly delightful concoction that plays on Respighi’s Rossiniana and Pines of Rome , fusing them with references to Di Vittorio’s own music, to create a kind of freshly minted Boutique fantasque.


The Symphony No. 2, titled “Lost Innocence,” on the other hand, does not, as far as I can tell, quote anything by Respighi, but the brilliant swatches of instrumental color Di Vittorio weaves into and through this striking musical tapestry is reminiscent of Respighi’s way with the orchestral palette. Di Vittorio tells us that the work was inspired by the tragedy of the Yugoslav civil wars in the late 1990s. Its four movements—“Requiem for a Child,” “Dance of Tears,” “Childheart,” and “Elegy: Marcia Funebre”—at least up until the finale, reflect a calm that is neither quiet nor peaceful, but one that builds toward a shattering, tragic ending.


The Ave Maria for a cappella women’s chorus is one of Di Vittorio’s conservatory works, written in 1995 (revised in 1998) after graduating from the Manhattan School of Music. At first it struck my ear as fairly dissonant, sounding almost like it could have been written by Penderecki, Lutos?awski, or Vasks, but as the piece unfolded, emerging from the harmonic counterpoint were passages that, with just a few minor adjustments to the voice-leading, sounded as if they might have come from a cappella moments in Verdi’s Requiem. Di Vittorio confirms that impression in his booklet note, stating that a number of influences run through the piece, from Palestrina and Monteverdi to Verdi, and that “in particular, certain resemblances may be traced to Verdi’s choral Ave Maria .” The effects of Di Vittorio’s piece are quite arresting, simultaneously stark and austere yet illuminated from within by a shimmering light that leads to a most meltingly beautiful cadential Amen.


The Symphony No. 1, titled “Isolation,” dates to one year before the Ave Maria but was revised in 1999. No borrowings from Respighi appear in this score either, yet his spirit hovers over it in the luminous divided string writing and exquisite chiaroscuro effects. This is a strings-only work, and according to Di Vittorio one of its influences was Vivaldi’s seldom-performed Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro , RV 169, one of Vivaldi’s most harmonically tortured works, written in a highly chromatic idiom intended to represent Christ’s pain and suffering. For Di Vittorio, the “Isolation” Symphony is meant to depict man’s alienation from himself and his fellow man. If you were to listen to the piece without knowing that, I’m not sure you would necessarily pick up specifically on that theme. The music is sad, to be sure, even brooding, but more than once it put me in mind of Barber’s Adagio for Strings , a piece that is somehow uplifting in its tragedy.


The Di Vittorio-as-composer CD closes with another work revised in 1998, the Clarinet Sonata No. 1. Not reflected in its title is the fact that it’s a piece for unaccompanied clarinet, which is a bit of a challenge for both composer and performer, considering that a solo wind instrument, unlike a violin or cello, can’t make its own harmony by playing double-stops or chords. But I suppose if Bach and Debussy could write for unaccompanied flute, there’s no reason the solo capabilities of other wind instruments shouldn’t be explored. Di Vittorio notes that he drew inspiration and advice for the work from his father, Giuseppe, who was a clarinetist. Di Vittorio claims to have been influenced by Verdi, Brahms, Berlioz, and elements of French Baroque dance, though these elements are not easily discerned due to the nature of the music’s syntax and style, which consists largely of loosely connected contrasting phrases that never quite seem to coalesce into an identifiable whole. Nonetheless, Benjamin Baron’s very accomplished clarinet playing invites further listening and offers a promise that there is more to this piece than meets the ear on first hearing.


Critics can be a cruel lot—I know because I’m one of them—and there are those who will say, and already have, that music like this being written today is irrelevant. That’s a strong sentiment, for sure, but nowhere near as judgmental as someone like Pierre Boulez would be. He is quoted as having said that composers who write music like this simply don’t exist, prompting an acquaintance of mine to describe Boulez as “the Dr. Mengele of France.” With one wave of his hand, off you go to the gas chamber. My attitude, as expressed on a number of past occasions, is that beautiful music is beautiful music, regardless of when it’s written, and Di Vittorio proves himself with this CD to be a composer of beautiful music extraordinaire. I strongly recommend this release to you for many hours of listening pleasure.


The second of the two entries consists entirely of music by Respighi, though Di Vittorio has had a hand in the realization of three of the four of the works as heard on the disc. I’m not sure just how seriously Respighi was ever taken by critics and the academic elite, but thanks to a small number of works—primarily his Roman trilogy, the Ancient Airs and Dances suites, and La Boutique fantasque —he came to enjoy considerable exposure and popularity, especially in the U.S. Toscanini premiered the third number of the Roman trilogy, Feste Romane , with the New York Philharmonic in 1929, and then went on to record the piece for RCA twice, once in 1942 with the Philadelphia Orchestra and a second time with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1949, adding the Fountains of Rome in 1951 and the Pines of Rome in 1953. Toscanini wasn’t the only one to climb aboard the Respighi bandwagon. Mengelberg premiered the composer’s Toccata for Piano and Orchestra with the New York Philharmonic in 1928, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra commissioned Respighi’s Metamorphoseon for its 50th anniversary in 1931.


Yet of Respighi’s nearly 200 scores—among which are nine operas, five ballets, several concertos, quite a few chamber works, and a considerable volume of vocal and choral numbers—a good deal of it is unrecorded and rarely, if ever, performed. The reasons seem to be twofold. First, the critics and opinion-makers, while acknowledging the composer’s gift for colorful orchestration and pictorial illusionism, regarded the music as “derivative,” “cinematic,” and even “vulgar,” by which I prefer to think they meant lacking in substance and depth rather than tawdry and tasteless. The truth of the matter is that there is nothing any more cinematic or “vulgar,” if you choose to use that word, about Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome , written in 1916, than there is about Bloch’s Schelomo written a year earlier. But the second, and perhaps more serious, criticism Respighi faced—though it was largely unjustified—was that he was a supporter of Mussolini’s fascist regime. Evidence seems to suggest that Respighi didn’t have a political bone in his body, but it may have been his very passivity and silence that were damning.


The 24-year-old Respighi began work on a violin concerto in 1903. Only the first two movements were completed; the third remained in a piano reduction with just a few measures orchestrated. After analyzing the score, Di Vittorio made enhancements to the orchestration of the first two movements and completed the third using material from the other movements. Di Vittorio’s completion was premiered in New York in 2010. I note a 1994 recording of the concerto on a Bongiovani CD, but it is only of Respighi’s original first two movements. The current performances of both the concerto and the Aria for Strings, transcribed by Di Vittorio, are world premiere recordings. The concerto, which owes much to Vivaldi and early Mendelssohn, inhabits a world of lyrical sunshine that plays on the senses like a fresh breeze bearing scents of an Italian vineyard in spring. Thanks to the efforts of Di Vittorio, and the capable hands and sensitive voice of violinist Laura Marzadori, this romantically expressive score is brought to us complete for the first time.


The even earlier 1901 Aria, Respighi’s salute to his Italian heritage by way of Frescobaldi, Corelli, and, again, Vivaldi, found its way into the composer’s Suite in G Major for Strings and Organ. Di Vittorio makes of it a lovely air for string orchestra. Both the Aria and the Suite were revised or edited to prepare the very first printed editions (score and parts) of each score. Up until now, only manuscript copies of the score and parts existed for both works. Beyond this, Di Vittorio then made slight adjustments to the Aria to make it suitable for not only string orchestra but string quintet, in order to promote Respighi’s music in academic settings, such as conservatories and music colleges.


The booklet does not explain to what extent Di Vittorio “revised” Respighi’s Suite for Strings, cataloged as P 41. The piece is a six-movement suite in Baroque style that anticipates Respighi’s later and very popular Ancient Airs and Dances.


Six years after Respighi visited Rossini’s collection of piano pieces titled Les Riens (“Trifles,” aka “Sins of my Old Age”) for his ballet La Boutique fantasque in 1919, he returned to mine the mother lode again in 1925 for his Rossiniana Suite. It is given here in unaltered form and in a delightful performance by Di Vittorio’s “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York. As one of Respighi’s more popular works, there is of course serious competition in the suite, not least among which is a classic 1967 recording with Ansermet (one of his last) and the Suisse Romande Orchestra.


The current Naxos release, in addition to excellent performances and recording, offers to the Respighi fan a combination of never-before-heard music and works in never-before-heard transcriptions by Salvatore Di Vittorio. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Salvatore Di Vittorio is seen as heir to the Italian neo-Classical orchestral tradition with a narrative style notable for its colorful orchestration and ‘swelling lyricism’ (American Record Guide). This second volume of his orchestral works includes a vivid portrayal of the cultural and historical diversity of his home city in Overtura Palermo. Sinfonia No. 3 evokes the beauty and magnificence of Sicilian temples, while Sinfonia No. 4 ‘Metamorfosi’, based on Ovid, is Di Vittorio’s most important work to date. His Overtura Respighiana and Sinfonias Nos. 1 and 2 can be heard on Naxos 8.572333.

REVIEW:

Gerard Schwarz's David Diamond symphony recordings originally appeared on the Delos label in the early 1990s. They remain impressive (though unfortunately still rare) documents of this composer's uniquely engaging music. In contrast to Symphony No. 1's ebullient opening, Diamond's Second begins with a wistful Adagio funebre, one of the work's longer and more profound movements, another being the beautiful Andante expressivo (with its evocative string and woodwind writing). The harmonic and melodic style occasionally recalls Copland, who comes most immediately to mind in the brass and bass drum play of the scherzo. However, the finale brings that unique blend of folksy Americana and classical rigor that marks much of Diamond's work.

Symphony No. 4's finale uses a similar rhythmic structure and even shares the same key as the Second, but otherwise the two works are quite different. Diamond compacts a lot of material into three brief movements. The musical language is less overtly tuneful than in No. 2, but the composer's expanded harmonic and textural palette ensures ever-captivating sounds, just as his sense of dramatic contrast and well-timed climaxes provide substantial emotional impact throughout. Schwarz conducts both scores with keen sensitivity, while the Seattle Symphony (particularly the brass in No. 4) relishes the challenge of this then-unfamiliar music. The low-level recordings require a volume boost to register fully, and they retain some shallowness, but not enough to detract from full enjoyment of the performances.

--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

REVIEW:

It's so comforting to know that these excellent performances will have a new lease on life courtesy of Naxos. David Diamond's First Symphony (1841) is a compact, three-movement work lasting 22 minutes that stands with the best American products of the period. Characteristically springy rhythms in the outer movements make the music quite refreshing and emphasize the touching lyricism of the central Andante maestoso. The Violin Concerto No. 2 was receiving only its second performances ever when this recording was made. The talented Finnish violinst Ilkka Talvi proves an able exponent of this grandly conceived and marvelously scored work (listen to the imaginative violin/xylophone writing at the opening of the finale). It's a major statement by any definition and it surely deserves to return to the repertoire. The Enourmous Room, a fantasia for orchestra after the book by e.e. cummings, drives home Diamond's fundamentally Romantic outlook and caps a wholly winning disc that is as well played as it is well recorded. If you missed this the first time around, here's your chance to make up the loss.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

REVIEW:

It's a mystery why David Diamond has not been generally acclaimed as one of the top handful of American symphonists. His Third Symphony has everything: good tunes, terrific orchestration, tight construction, and a satisfying form. Its beauties are numerous and immediately appealing, from the zesty rhythmic kick of its first and third movements to the lovely writing for harp and piano in the second movement, all grounded in a slow finale of ineffable purity and gentleness. Of course, it's that slow finale that probably seals the symphony's doom in terms of its chances for live performance, but there's no reason we can't enjoy it at home in this excellently played and recorded performance (here getting new lease on life from Naxos after its first appearance on Delos).

The two couplings at first might look to have a certain outward resemblance in that they both enshrine spiritual subjects, but they couldn't sound more different. Psalm (1936) is vintage early Diamond, a slow-fast-slow piece that bespeaks a certain French flavor (Ravel is never far away from Diamond's quiet music). Kaddish (1987), on the other hand, is an elegiac apotheosis of the modes of synagogue chant. It's beautifully played by Janos Starker, and altogether this collection represents a fine tribute to a still underrated major composer.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The three works on this recording were composed at the height of David Diamond’s popularity. ‘Rounds’ is his most enduringly popular piece, whose simple economy of means prompted Aaron Copland to exclaim, “Oh, I wish I had written that piece.” The concert suite ‘Romeo and Juliet’ explores the “innate beauty and pathos” of Shakespeare’s play. Taking its cue from the work of nineteenth-century Romantic composers, ‘Symphony No. 6’ is cyclical, the second and third movements deriving from material found in the first. Conductor Arthur Fagen has been professor of orchestral conducting at the Indiana University Jacobs School of Music since 2008 and music director of the Atlanta Opera since 2010. He has conducted at the world’s most prestigious opera houses and music festivals, and from 1998 to 2001, he was guest conductor at the Vienna State Opera. Here he leads the Indiana University Philharmonic Orchestra, the premiere orchestra at the school, and the Indiana University Chamber Orchestra.

Peter Dickinson' strikingly original approach to organ music, which the composer himself has described as 'far from the English cathedral tradition', reflects a background that was not typical of British organists or composers.

Albert Dietrich - a composer and friend of the Schumanns and Brahms - has largely been forgotten since his death in 1908. However, the Symphony in D minor heard here was one of the most performed symphonies of it's day. Albanian violinist Klaidi Sahatci is the soloist in the Violin Concerto in D minor. Christoph Konig conducts the acclaimed ensemble Solistes Europeens, Luxembourg.

Includes work(s) by various composers.

With 49 tracks spanning two CDs, DISCOVER-FILM MUSIC is an informative package designed to lure the casual listener into the larger world of film music. Disc One largely consists of major Hollywood releases, including KING KONG, BEN HUR, STAR WARS, and SPIDER-MAN. Disc Two explores the more classical-centric foreign film scores, originating in Britain, Europe, and Japan. The set is accompanied by a 72-page booklet / learning guide, composed by British film music lecturer John Riley.

Includes work(s) by various composers.

Includes work(s) by Johann Sebastian Bach, George Frideric Handel, Domenico Scarlatti, Johann Pachelbel, Antonio Vivaldi, Arcangelo Corelli.

DISCOVER OPERA

DISCOVER THE CLASSICS, VOL. 1

Baron von Dittersdorf's attractive personality and inventiveness as a composer shines through in every movement of the three charming symphonies featured on this world premi're recording.

Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf (2 November 1739 - 24 October 1799) was an Austrian composer, violinist and silvologist. Music from this Classical period can be difficult to be positive about when it's compared to the works of Mozart, but Dittersdorf's manages to be far from boring and in fact not that far removed from the music of Mozart. All the music on this CD has a gentle and flowing nature about it, while still managing to dip into the lower/softer extremes of it's subject as well as the more intense aspects. This selection was recorded at the Calvanist Church, Budapest, Hungry, from 9th to 11th December, 1996.

DITTERSDORF: Sinfonias on Ovid's Metamorphoses, Nos. 1 - 3

DITTERSDORF: Sinfonias on Ovid's Metamorphoses, Nos. 4 - 6

The program offers familiar works as well as novelties for voice and organ, along with solo organ works ranging from Bach to Handel to Puccini to Nadia Boulanger, including the title cut, Gounod's "O Divine Redeemer." The powerful, sumptuously voiced American soprano Christine Brewer sings most radiantly. It's great to hear Paul Jacobs in Boulanger's richly chromatic, subtly intense 1912 work, Three Pieces for Organ.

– New York Times

The Ukrainian pianist Dmytro Choni, winner of the 2018 Paloma O’Shea Santander International Piano Competition, has selected a programme that spans the 20th century. The first book of Debussy’s Images offers poetic evocation and virtuoso caprice, whereas Prokofiev’s Piano Sonata No. 6, completed in 1940, is the first of his ‘War Sonatas’, characteristically contrasting rhythmic vitality with rich lyricism. Ginastera, too, supplies vivid intensity in his Piano Sonata No. 1 suggesting the sound of the guitar, while Ligeti’s Étude is a Debussyian evocation of a rainbow. Dmytro Choni was born in Kyiv, Ukraine in 1993, and received his first piano lesson at the age of four. In addition to his victory at the 2018 Paloma O’Shea Santander International Competition, he is also a laureate of many prestigious competitions such as the Ferruccio Busoni International Piano Competition (Italy, 2017) and International Piano Competition in Memory of Vladimir Horowitz (Ukraine, 2017). In2019 he received the Vendome Prize at the Verbier Festival in Switzerland.

Robert Docker was one of the giants of light music – a composer and arranger whose works graced stage, screen, radio and television. Two of his best pieces were written for piano and orchestra: Legend, which can rank alongside Addinsell’s Warsaw Concerto (Naxos 8.554323); and the brilliantly witty inventions of the Pastiche Variations. Not only was Docker a distinguished orchestrator, he was also a rich melodist as his classic Scèneduba lillustrates, while the composer’s impish humor can be savored in Tabarinage. Docker’s early training as a classical violinist fully equipped him to explore the British pastoral tradition in the languid and beautiful Air.