“Aaron Copland: American Populist”
A PostClassical Ensemble “More than Music” film
Written and produced by Joseph Horowitz
Visual presentation by Peter Bogdanoff
Film four in the six-film Naxos series:
“Dvorak’s Prophecy: A New Narrative for American Classical Music”

Buffeted by social and political currents, Copland can seem unmoored: a cork in a stream. He was politicized by the Depression- and by the example of Mexico, whose artists galvanized national identity and progressive thought. He wrote a prize-winning workers’ song and addressed a Communist picnic in Minnesota. Twenty years later, the Red Scare targeted him as a traitor. Can his odyssey be read as a parable illuminating the fate of the American artist?  This film features a reenactment of Copland’s grilling by Senator Joseph McCarthy (played by Edward Gero). It also highlights the most consequential Copland score we don’t know: his ingenious music of Lewis Mumford’s 1939 World’s Fair film The City, itself a complex product of the Popular Front. We reconsider the valedictory Piano Fantasy, in which Copland refreshed his modernist roots- a galvanizing performance by Benjamin Pasternack, who also recalls a telling encounter with the composer. The other commentators include the American historians Michael Kazin and Joseph McCartin, who ponder the tangled legacy of American populism of the left and right.

"The 'Dvořák’s Prophecy' film series makes an essential contribution to our understanding of the history of music in America, and of the role that music has played, and must continue to play, in American culture as a whole. The films are both enlightening and entertaining. I can readily envision their use in classrooms, in both introductory and advanced-research contexts. Non-specialists will also enjoy them thoroughly. Because Horowitz does not shy away from political, racial, and gender issues of intense contemporary relevance, these films are especially important right now." – Larry Starr, Emeritus Professor of Music, University of Washington

“Beyond Psycho - The Musical Genius of Bernard Herrmann”
A PostClassical Ensemble “More than Music” film
Written and produced by Joseph Horowitz
Visual presentation by Peter Bogdanoff
Film five in the six-film Naxos series:
“Dvorak’s Prophecy: A New Narrative for American Classical Music”

Hollywood’s supreme film composer was a casualty of the standard narrative - as he himself was bitterly aware. Not only were his movie scores high creative accomplishments; Bernard Herrmann was a formidable- and formidably unfashionable- concert composer whose Clarinet Quintet may be the most beautiful chamber music by an American. His Psycho Narrative, which we also sample, surpasses the Psycho Suite we normally hear. He honed his gift for dramatizing the spoken word as the pre-eminent composer for a genre no longer remembered: the radio drama. This film samples Whitman (1944) – a Norman Corwin radio play that deserves to live as a concert work. It also exemplifies how radio, an unprecedented mass medium, once consolidated the American experience, its biggest star being Franklin D. Roosevelt. Participants include the Whitman scholar Karen Karbiener, the critic Alex Ross, Murray Horwitz on radio lore, and William Sharp on playing Walt Whitman to music by Bernard Herrmann.

“Lou Harrison and Cultural Fusion”
A PostClassical Ensemble “More than Music” film
Written and produced by Joseph Horowitz
Visual presentation by Peter Bogdanoff
Film six in the six-film Naxos series:
“Dvorak’s Prophecy: A New Narrative for American Classical Music”

Joe Horowitz writes of this film: "No non-Western musical idiom has so impacted on the Western concert tradition as Indonesian gamelan, beginning with the Javanese Pavilion at the 1889 Paris Exposition: an epiphany. Sampling gamelan-inspired works by Debussy, Poulenc, Messiaen, and McPhee, we arrive at a paragon exemplar of cultural fusion – Lou Harrison – and a pair of concertos, for violin and piano, unsurpassed by those of any other American. The composer/scholar Bill Alves demonstrates the layered complexity of Javanese gamelan, and how it translates into keyboard textures composed by Harrison for Keith Jarrett. For Harrison’s Concerto for Violin and Percussion, we tour the “junk percussion” – including flowerpots and washtubs – that Harrison made sing and dance."

He goes on to write "We now inhabit a “postclassical” musical aesthetic that, rather than piling on modernist complexity, draws inspiration from a variety of sources, Eastern and Western, “high” and popular. The prophetic figure, it seems to me is Lou Harrison, who practiced world music before there was a name for it. Harrison was certainly a composer who discovered a usable past – including music from Indonesia, China, and Japan. In the New World, a usable starting point was and remains the sorrow songs of African Americans, so eloquently celebrated around the turn of the twentieth century by W. E. B. Du Bois and Antonin Dvořák. Dvořák’s 1893 prophecy that “negro melodies” would foster a “great and noble” school of American music has never seemed more pertinent.”

"These six beautiful films reveal a compelling, inclusive musical tradition, deeply interwoven with American culture." – J. Peter Burkholder, author of 'A History of Western Music' and 'Listening to Charles Ives'.

[Anton] Wit generates excitement without letting things get out of hand. The performance of the Czech Suite is warm and relaxed, nicely rustic in feeling... - PENGUIN GUIDE

DVORAK: Four-Hand Piano Music, Vol. 2

DVORAK: Four-Hand Piano Music, Vol. 1

This latest release in the Great Composers in Words and Music series portrays Antonín  Dvořák as a complex and wide-ranging composer, and explores the creation and performance of his music as well as its reception on both sides of the Atlantic, tracing his art in all its richness and variety. Musical excerpts include the Cello Concerto, the ‘New World’ Symphony and the Slavonic Dances, as well as selected chamber pieces, songs, opera excerpts and more.

Antonín Dvořák’s gift for melody was apparent as soon as he began writing music, and this naturally tuneful inspiration has long captured the imagination of arrangers. An expert in arranging for both orchestra and piano, Peter Breiner has selected 33 melodies in simple yet revealing piano reductions that give the listener an opportunity to journey with Dvořák through his career in Prague and ultimately overseas to America. This carefully curated program also brings moods ranging from rustic celebration to nostalgic melancholy, and from traditional Czech dumka dances to the famous Song to the Moon, Dvořák’s most prized operatic aria.

Listen to the Naxos Podcast to learn more about this release

A native of Bohemia, Antonín Dvorák contributed much to the re-establishment of Czech national musical identity in the 19th century. It was the popularity of his choral music in England, however, that led to the development of the Mass in D from its smaller-scale original into a movingly dramatic and jubilant masterpiece with full orchestra. Dvorák's celebratory Te Deum is comparable in form to a four-movement symphony. Antoni Wit is considered by ClassicsToday.com to be "the best conductor around these days for big choral works". His acclaimed recording of Dvorák's Requiem is available on Naxos 8572874-75.

DVORAK: Overtures

Dvorak: Piano Concerto, Op. 33 / The Water Goblin

DVO?ÁK Piano Quartets: in D, op. 23; in E?, op. 87 • Members of the Vlach Quartet; Helena Suchárová-Weiser (pn) • NAXOS 8572159 (71: 11)


In the history of chamber-music-ensemble configurations, the piano quartet is a relative newcomer to the scene. The first such works are believed to have been written by Mozart in response to a commission from composer-publisher Anton Hoffmeister. His first, in G Minor, appeared in 1785, and a second, in E? Major, followed in 1786, but not before Hoffmeister, who was expecting string quartets, had expressed his displeasure and released Mozart from further obligation. Around this same time, however, a teenaged Beethoven, still living under his parents’ roof in Bonn, also penned three piano quartets (see Fanfare 33:2 for further details). Whether he came upon the same idea as Mozart simultaneously but independently, or the light bulb went on when he heard Mozart’s quartets during a visit to Vienna in 1787, remains unknown. What is known, or strongly believed, is that before Mozart and Beethoven, the piano quartet did not exist. For all of his string quartets and piano trios, Haydn never made the leap, nor, as far we know, did anyone else.


It seemed like a really good idea—better than a string quartet in not being so treble oriented with two violins, and better than a piano trio in not sacrificing the alto viola string voice. Yet, for some reason, the piano quartet never caught on like its older siblings, and even among those composers who did make the effort—Weber (1), Mendelssohn (3), Marschner (2), Schumann (1), Theodor Kirchner (1), Dvo?ák (2), Brahms (3), Fauré (2), Enescu (2), Martin? (1), Walton (1), Bridge (2), Copland (1), Turina (1), and one or two others—the results are not generally cited at the top of their best works lists (except perhaps in the cases of Brahms and Fauré). Moreover, the number of piano quartets written following Mozart and Beethoven pales in comparison to the number of string quartets and piano trios.


Dvo?ák tried his hand at the medium twice, once in 1875, and again in 1889. Dvo?ák is a composer I periodically fall in and out of love with; currently, I think I’m in one of my not so loving phases. As I’ve had occasion to say before, his predisposition to prolixity seems to present itself in inverse proportion to the interest and sustainability of his musical material. In simple terms, the less he had to say, the longer he went on about it—not unlike some of my reviews. The D-Major Quartet is an excellent example. At 34-and-a-half minutes, it’s only two minutes shorter than its E?-Major companion, but one must take into account that the earlier work is in only three movements, compared to the more standard four-movement layout of its sibling. To be sure, the piece has some charming Czech-inflected melodies and lovely moments, but in between is much that would have ended up on the cutting room floor if Brahms had been the editor. The most memorable movement is the Andantino con variazioni, in which Dvo?ák spins a number of very imaginative variations over a plaintive, dumka-like theme.


The E?-Major Quartet is a much more tightly constructed work, and its movements are more proportionally balanced. Dvo?ák’s writing is also bolder, more assured, and more technically demanding, especially of the pianist. By this time, the composer had learned there was more to the art of thematic development than simply padding a piece with filler. The Lento, in the hideous key for the strings of G? Major (six flats), is clearly indebted to Brahms for its melodic outlines, harmonic vocabulary, and keyboard figuration. This is not your Dvo?ák of the dumka-colored slow movement. The Allegro moderato, grazioso is also not Dvo?ák’s typical high-spirited scherzo. It’s more of a waltz, and anyone really familiar with the composer’s work will instantly recognize the opening strain (after the introductory chords) as being almost identical to the fourth item in the set of Romantic Pieces, op. 75. Only with the last movement do we finally get the ruddy-cheeked Czech peasant dance that is so characteristic of Dvo?ák’s music.


These are excellent performances from members of the Vlach Quartet joined by pianist Helena Suchárová-Weiser, thoroughly idiomatic, as one might expect from this venerable Czech ensemble, and an excellent recording made at the Lobkowitz Palace, Prague, in 2008. Surprisingly, there isn’t as much competition as one might expect, at least not that couples both piano quartets on the same disc. Two that have long occupied favored status in my collection—one with the disbanded Domus on Hyperion, and the other with the Ames Piano Quartet on Dorian—are both still listed. But they are also both full-priced albums, and I wouldn’t argue that either holds a significant edge over this budget-priced Naxos disc. If you don’t already have one or more versions of Dvo?ák’s two piano quartets on your shelf, this is a sure bet for when you’re in one of your own Dvo?ák-loving phases.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

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These captivating performances are a salutary reminder that, while Dvo?ák's chamber music is readily accessible to musicians and listeners alike, it uniquely blossoms when performed by native Czech performers - and, as we shall see, by their well-trained fellow-travelers - who bring it an intuitive sense of expressive phrasing and an understanding of its various components.

The D major quartet's opening theme, the first thing we hear, underscores the point. It includes a hiccough of a syncopation: hit it too hard, and it impedes the motion; underplay it, and it's just a distraction. These players articulate it within the overall arch of the phrase, so the rhythmic gesture intensifies the forward impulse as it should.

Such felicities abound in these performances. The players launch all the cantabile phrases with a sure sense of their broad, arching shape. The waltzlike passages - the 6/8 variations of the D major's central movement, the Allegretto scherzando of its Finale, and the third movement of the E-flat - go with a lovely lilt and swing, and carry an authentic, open-hearted lyricism.

The D major quartet is formally rather interesting. It begins with a fully-fledged Allegro moderato sonata movement, fifteen minutes long. There follows a lovely eleven-minute Andantino with five variations. The seven-minute Finale begins with the brief Allegretto scherzando cited before heading into an Allegro agitato, thus encompassing elements of both a scherzo and a conventional finale. The structure looks as off-balance in the track-listing as it undoubtedly sounds in this description, but in fact the two latter movements constitute a plausible counterweight to the first. The four-movement E-flat quartet shows Beethoven's influence. The themes are no less fetching than in the earlier work, but they lend themselves more readily to "symphonic" working-out and development, and the whole leaves an impression of greater weight and importance.

Of the players, I was particularly taken by cellist Mikael Ericcson - who, I imagine, is probably not a native Czech - whose dusky, deep tone provides special pleasure on the numerous melodic phrases the composer supplies. At the piano, Helena Suchárová-Weiser spins out pearly, articulate passagework with full tonal weight and "support", and her well-balanced chords ring out. Violinist Jana Vlachová never quite soars as one wants; her tone is thinner and her articulation less meticulous than ideal. But she's a stylish and effective player, and violist, Karel Stadtherr, produces a tone sufficiently darker than hers to render their sounds easily distinguishable.

The engineers capture just enough hall resonance to enhance the beautiful playing, but not so much as to obscure it. One would have expected to find this sort of release on an expensive, imported Supraphon disc, where it still would have been a must-buy; at Naxos prices, it's absolutely a steal.

-- Stephen Francis Vasta, MusicWeb International

Dvorák’s Requiem seems to be making a comeback, with new recordings by Järvi, Jansons, and best of all, this one by Antoni Wit, featuring the excellent Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir and four first-class soloists. It’s not an easy work to bring off as far as requiems go. Less histrionic than the Berlioz, less operatic than the Verdi, the work is symphonic in conception and structure, with a chromatic “death” motive that runs through most of its movements, and tightly integrated textures requiring careful balances between the soloists, choir, and orchestra.

The work’s architecture is impressive: two parts, each containing a central pillar marked off by repetitions of a big chorus, the Dies irae in Part One, and the Quam olim Abrahae (the catchiest choral fugue in the entire 19th century) in Part Two. That Dvorák was clearly thinking in terms of balance and large-scale structure is shown by his placement of the Pie Jesu between the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei. Normally it forms part of the Dies irae sequence, but here it represents an island of repose before the large-scale, recapitulatory finale, while bringing the timing of the second part more in line with the first.

One of the most interesting things about the Requiem is that, unlike almost all of its predecessors, it does not end with a vision of consolation. In fact, the conclusion is remarkably unsentimental, even grim, with Dvorák returning to the “death” motive and staying in a minor key right up to the final bar. Conceptually it’s more like Mahler’s Sixth, with its “fate” motives, than virtually any other contemporary work, and this fact may account for the music’s comparative neglect. It is, without question, a masterpiece.

Hitherto there have been two great recordings: Ancerl’s on Supraphon, and Kertesz’s on Decca. This one effortlessly joins them. Wit just may be the best conductor around these days for big choral works such as this (remember his knockout Mahler Eighth). He finds more ear-catching detail in the music than anyone else has to date. Even the biggest climaxes of the Dies irae never turn thick and heavy. The flowing tempos certainly help, but there is throughout a remarkable clarity to the textures that reveals a real podium master directing a first-class ensemble.

The soloists, who have a lot to do, are also uniformly excellent. In Christiane Libor we have a soprano with plenty of heft to the voice without a hint of shrillness; tenor Daniel Kirch never sounds like he’s crooning; Janusz Monarcha is a real bass, with no trace of wobble anywhere in his tone, while Ewa Wolak never sounds like she’d be better off taking the contralto lead in Gilbert and Sullivan. They are marvelous both singly and as a group, particularly in the mostly solo Recordare. First class engineering makes this a wonderfully satisfying release that hopefully will win many new friends for this powerfully expressive and masterful work.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Antonin Dvorak's success in Europe during the 1880s led to invitations to visit England and the commissioning of his oratorio Saint Ludmila for the Leeds Festival. It tells the moving and turbulent story of Ludmila's conversion to Christianity, an important event in Bohemian history that led to her becoming Bohemia's patron saint. Written for large forces and with a predominant part for the chorus in the tradition of Handel, Saint Ludmila is full of Dvorak's typical warmth and melodic beauty, and stands alongside his Stabat Mater and Requiem as one of his greatest works. Here, the piece is interpreted by the Slovak Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir, led by Leos Svarovsky. Leos Svarovsky studied flute and conducting at the Academy of Music in Prague as the last student of the renowned professor Vaclav Neumann. He started his career at the National Theatre in Prague as assistant to Zdenek Kosler and subsequently went on to hold principal positions with the Prague Chamber Opera, the Janacek Philharmonic Orchestra Ostrava, the Brno Philharmonic, the Zilina State Chamber Orchestra, the Czech Chamber Orchestra, and others.

This is good. Very good. Not only does this disc offer an imaginative array of first-class wind music, the performances are well nigh ideal. Dvorák's Serenade has just the right "outdoors" quality, a freshness of rhythm and, in the slow movement, a lyrical serenity that's totally delightful. Better still, the recording captures the work perfectly: not so close that we're serenaded by clicking valves and gasping musicians, not so far that the distinctive wind timbres congeal into a sonic fog. Better still, the horns are ideally balanced and integrated into the ensemble, rather than positioned as a trio of soloists in their own acoustic (as so often happens). Georges Enescu's Dixtuor is an elusive masterwork, and the Oslo players clarify its complex but luminous textures by stressing the music's gentle, bittersweet lyricism. I've never heard it sound so purposeful or so melodically appealing. As for "Youth", Janácek's 70th birthday present to himself--well, it sounds as buoyant and vivacious as its title, the crucial writing for low instruments (bassoon and bass clarinet) being captured with special vividness. This is a disc that you will want to listen to again and again, and I can't recommend it highly enough.--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Dvorák: Stabat Mater - Psalm 149

The stellar Fine Arts Quartet returns to Naxos with an album of Dvorák gems and surprises. The Second String Quartet is a fascinating example of early experimentation that would foreshadow the modernistic innovations of Schoenberg and his contemporaries. The Bagatelles are heard here in their original instrumentation featuring the harmonium.

REVIEW:

Did Antonín Dvořák suspect that his second string quartet was musically ahead of its time? Was he himself perhaps surprised, even shocked, by its harmonic boldness? Did he not yet feel confident enough as a composer? All of this could explain why the first private performance of the B flat major quartet did not take place until 63 years after it was written – in 1932 – from a reconstructed score. In the meantime, the quartet has been recorded more often than it has been heard in the concert hall.

In its complete recording, the Fine Arts Quartet has now also reached this second string quartet and places it in relation to the Bagatelles op. 47 and the Rondo op. 94.

In both works, the Fine Arts Quartet touchingly captures the Bohemian character, the folk song-like quality that is a basic element in Dvořák’s music. Lots of charm, a soft sound and supple bowing provide the necessary lightness and a slight smile behind the notes.

This grace can also be found in the string quartet – here, however, it comes across more as intimate passion, which is transformed into convincing expressivity through the daring harmonies. Despite the quasi-rhapsodic structure of the work, the Fine Arts Quartet never allows the songfulness of Dvořák’s music to be forgotten by finely differentiating the forward-looking harmonies so that the composition never becomes piecemeal. This also applies to the dance-like moments, which appear again and again and form an exciting symbiosis with Dvořák’s new ideas in this interpretation – in a quartet that also formally dispenses with classical structures.

-- Pizzicato (Guy Engels)

DVORAK, A.: String Quartets, Vol. 4 (Vlach Quartet) - Nos. 1

DVORAK, A.: String Quartets, Vol. 1 (Vlach Quartet) - Nos. 1

DVORAK, A.: String Quartets, Vol. 7 (Vlach Quartet) - Nos. 1

This volume from the Vlach Quartet Prague's acclaimed Dvorak String Quartet series presents the Third String Quartet of 1869/70, a richly rewarding work.

Like most of his early works, Dvorák's Op. 1 String Quintet does not deserve its current obscurity. Certainly it lacks the melodic distinction of the much later piece that's also included on this finely played, excellently recorded disc. Still, the music captures and holds the attention, lacks for nothing in energy in its outer movements, and shows a fine sense of formal balance. The so-called "American" Quintet Op. 97 reveals the quintessence of the mature Dvorák: a generous fund of folk-inspired melody, a marvelously danceable scherzo, crystal clear construction in all four movements, and a fascinatingly colorful exploration of string textures. The augmented Vlach Quartet makes the most of both works, offering playing in which good balances and accurate intonation never get in the way of the music's often gutsy, vigorous character. They're particularly effective in the finale of Op. 97, whose "Humoresque No. 5"-style melody can sound too slender for a large movement if not given enough rhythmic profile. These players also exploit the husky sound of the two violas to evocative effect in the slow movements of both works. In short, this recording makes a fine addition to the group's distinguished ongoing cycle of Dvorák chamber music for strings. --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Dvorák's String Quintet with double bass can be counted among his finest chamber works (or actually among his finest works, period). It contains all of the composer's trademark compositional virtues: vibrant energy, gorgeous melodies, dancing rhythms, and an overall life-affirming spirit. There's spirit aplenty in the Vlach Quartet's joyous reading, augmented by Jakub Waldmann's double bass, which, thanks to Naxos' beautifully balanced, sonorous recording, adds a satisfyingly deep bottom to the ensemble sound. The Quintet originally contained five movements, but Dvorák removed the intermezzo and published it separately as the familiar Nocturno, which here receives an exquisitely tender and serene reading from the Prague players.


The tunes in Drobnosti (miniatures) will be recognizable to anyone familiar with Dvorák's Romantic Pieces for piano and violin, here in their original version for two violins and viola. This arrangement sounds slight after the robust tones of the preceding Quintet, but the delicate tunes nonetheless retain their power to enchant. Finally, the melancholy Andante appassionato (from an aborted early string quartet project), is notable for its beautiful tunes and an animated middle section that bears a striking stylistic resemblance to Tchaikovsky. In sum, a richly varied and highly enjoyable program. [12/19/2002]
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Dvorák: Symphonies Nos. 5 & 7

REVIEW:

Making a major mark in this repertoire isn’t the easiest thing for any conductor to do, not with so many distinctive performances already on disc. But Alsop has a genuine affinity for the composer’s music, and can clearly deliver the goods. Alsop holds her own in terms of the big picture, leading a performance of the Seventh that ultimately carries substantial expressive weight. It is the same for Symphony No. 8, which emerges with lots of character and warmth. In both works, the BSO produces a vivid, disciplined sound.

– Baltimore Sun

Dvorák: Symphony No. 1 - Legends Op. 59, Nos. 1-5

This recording by the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra and Music Director Marin Alsop is the first of three discs of Dvorak symphonies taken from live performances at Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall.

These performances, recorded in 2009/10, are not Delos reissues. If you’ve heard Gerard Schwarz’s Mahler recordings, you will know that his recent work reveals a distinctive and compelling way with romantic music, miles away from his stiff early recordings of Mozart and Haydn. This Dvorák Sixth is wholly personal and worth getting to know. Contrast seems to have become the name of the game. The first movement, with its exposition repeat intact, is uncommonly swift and exciting, the Adagio unusually slow—a real adagio—but still lyrical and flowing. In Schwarz’s hands the music takes on a larger aspect than it usually does.

The scherzo has plenty of the necessary fire, but the finale is also different (legitimately so) from any other version. In the coda, for example, Schwarz has the strings execute their fugato a touch slower than it typically goes, but with great precision, leading to a truly grand reading of the final pages. In every movement Schwarz varies the pulse effectively within a phrase, making effective use of slight ritards and accents to maintain interest. It’s just thoughtful, intelligent music making, with an orchestra able to follow the conductor’s every whim.

Janácek’s Idyll makes an unusual but effective coupling, dating as it does from two years before the symphony. In seven movements lasting some 30 minutes, the piece sounds a lot like Dvorák (albeit without the tunes) and wholly unlike the Janácek on which his reputation rests. Once again, the performance is warm and captivating, the string playing often luscious in sonority. This very enjoyable, well-engineered disc should excite the interest of Dvorák fans; it came as a very pleasant surprise.

– ClassicsToday.com

Dvorak: Symphony No. 9, 'From the New World' - Symphonic Var

GLAZUNOV / DVORAK: Violin Concertos in A Minor