Classical Music

Jaleo: Flamenco Live

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

"...For Bridge enthusiasts there is no competition to this recording, which is therefore valuable in its own right."

The three composers represented on this compilation have little in common with each other apart from their nationality and the fact that they were largely neglected during the latter part of their lives and after their deaths. Of the three, Parry always kept a foothold on the repertory because of his choral music - although much of this substantial body of work remains unrecorded to this day - but the English Suite was a posthumous work edited after the composer’s death for performance by his pupil Emily Daymond and not performed until four years after his death, in a Prom outing after which it promptly sank without trace. Some of the ideas in the music date back to Parry’s heyday in 1894 but Daymond did her mentor no favours when she suggested that two of the seven movements of the suite could be omitted if the Suite was thought to be too long, and here the Caprice movement is indeed not given – as it was in Boult’s earlier 1971 recording for Lyrita. The work is hardly over-extended at under twenty minutes, and there would have been plenty of room for the additional movement. The later recordings in the catalogue, conducted by Richard Hickox and Adrian Leaper, also include the work complete and under the circumstances there seems little to recommend this cut version under Boughton unless the other works on the disc appeal.

Like Parry’s Suite, Finzi’s Eclogue was not published or performed until after the composer’s death, and the title was supplied by his editors. It was originally written in the 1920s as the slow movement of a piano concerto, but was revised some twenty years later to the form we now know. The first recording was made in 1977 under the indefatigable Vernon Handley and Peter Katin, but since then there have been a number of others. Martin Jones gives a very cool reading which emphasises the almost neo-classical style of the writing; one can imagine the work being played with more heated romantic fervour, but it nevertheless reveals all its crystalline beauty in this reading and the playing of the strings is beautifully refined. This is probably the best track on the disc; but the greater part of the collection really rests on the shoulders of Frank Bridge.

After his death, Bridge was even more neglected than Parry or Finzi; indeed, for many years he was only remembered for the fact that he had supplied the theme for Britten’s Variations, and there were more recordings of that piece in the catalogues than of any of Bridge’s own orchestral music. Britten himself recorded Sir Roger de Coverley with the English Chamber Orchestra in 1969 in the Snape Maltings, and the larger body of strings he employed made a more positive impression than Boughton manages here. It was not until Sir Charles Groves devoted a whole EMI LP to the orchestral music of Bridge in 1976 that the revival of the composer’s fortunes may be said to have been safely launched. Groves could sometimes be a rather stolid and sober conductor, but at his best he was capable of producing some superb performances – his recording of Delius’s Koanga remains unchallenged in the catalogue to this day, and his Bridge compilation was another of the highlights of his recorded repertoire. He included Cherry ripe and the Lament in his compilation, and two years later Boult gave us première recordings of Rosemary and Sally in our Alley; but this Nimbus disc was - so far as I can tell - the first to include recordings of the Canzonetta and the Irish melody. Indeed this remains the only available recording of the latter work in its orchestral form, since it was not even included in Hickox’s otherwise comprehensive survey of Bridge’s orchestral music for Chandos; the other recordings in the current catalogue are of the original string quartet version.

In terms of performances Boughton’s readings of Bridge are fine, but these are not by and large Bridge’s greatest works; indeed many of them are transcriptions for string orchestra of pieces that Bridge originally wrote for smaller forces, and many of them fall close to the category of ‘light music’ – if any music by Bridge could be so described. Boughton is just a little slower than his competitors Boult or Groves - to the advantage of the heartfelt Lament - but the differences in interpretation are minimal. The most substantial work here, There is a willow grows aslant a brook, is however something different again. This meditation on the death of Ophelia (in Hamlet) is one of Bridge’s most impassioned later works, and in terms of length and content it can hardly be categorised as a miniature. This is the only work on this disc which includes wind instruments, and it is also clearly the most ‘modern’ composition here; Boughton gives the music plenty of atmosphere. But there are many other recordings of this piece, and some of these - not least Hickox - give the music more substance.

The real attraction for Bridge completists - who will in any event presumably already possess all the Hickox recordings - is the orchestral version of the Irish Melody, which contains yet another arrangement of the (London)derry Air to set beside those of Grainger and Harty. It is quite a bit less conventional than the setting by Harty, but decidedly less so than some of the sometimes bizarrely chromatic versions in which Grainger indulged himself. Then again, this is not really a conventionally Irish tune; it fits no known Irish metre, and its history might lead to some suspicion as to whether it is really a traditional Irish melody at all. It was first published in 1855 (without words) and was supplied to George Petrie by Jane Ross who had arranged it herself for piano and merely stated that it was “very old”. However later researchers failed to uncover any trace of its origins, or any Gaelic words; the first poet to supply lyrics was Percival Graves for an 1882 setting by Stanford. Apparently Jane Ross, who was a conscientious collector of folk-songs, may have heard the song in Donegal - where her brother was a fisherman - rather than Derry itself. There remains a suspicion that she may actually have written the melody herself – perhaps more likely than an alternative explanation which attributes the tune to the fairies. Bridge’s arrangement is the central section of a piece that is quite substantial in length and depth; he adds a double-bass part to the original quartet version. One could imagine the work might be more effective with more players; the cellos at 1.32 and 2.16 sound rather thinner than ideal. For Bridge enthusiasts there is no competition to this recording, which is therefore valuable in its own right.

The recorded sound throughout is natural, and nicely resonant without being overblown.

- Paul Corfield Godfrey, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Fischer brings his Haydn cycle to a more than satisfying conclusion with this superb volume.

Adám Fischer and the Austro­Hungarian Haydn Orchestra go from strength to strength. This culminating volume of their Haydn symphony cycle – built up over 14 years – is in many ways the most enjoyable of all‚ not just because it covers a fascinating range of works written in the 1760s‚ when the young Haydn was busy experimenting‚ but in the performances too. In most previous volumes the advantages of Fischer’s cycle as against those of Antál Dorati’s ever­fresh pioneering Decca cycle‚ have been relatively slight. Here the new performances‚ with lighter‚ more transparent textures and generally faster speeds‚ take far more note of period practice while staying faithful to modern instruments. More than ever one registers the individual virtuosity of the various soloists in the orchestra‚ often challenged to the limit by fast speeds. So a movement such as the variation finale of No 31‚ The Hornsignal‚ features a sequence of brilliant soloists such as Haydn himself might have been writing for in the Esterházy orchestra – violin‚ cello‚ horn and so on‚ even double­bass. That symphony‚ in Professor Robbins Landon’s description one of the most spectacular of the early works‚ is here presented with panache‚ with the four horns braying out superbly‚ and the fast opening Allegro adding to the intensity. The immediately preceding symphony‚ No 30‚ nicknamed Alleluia after the chant quoted‚ is hardly less striking‚ the more so here when Fischer has adopted‚ with brilliant results‚ the option for this C major work of having trumpets and drums as well as horns – a later addition as Robbins Landon suggests in Volume 1 of his monumental Chronicle and Works (Thames &Hudson: 1976­78). The horns are prominent throughout these performances‚ helped by the recording balance‚ bringing out the boldness of inspiration. Symphonies Nos 30 and 31 evidently date from 1765‚ but generally the regular numbered sequence from the old Breitkopf edition is even more misleading than usual. So No 26 in D minor‚ Lamentation‚ another work that quotes a chant‚ is in the darkly intense Sturm und Drang style of the middle symphonies‚ where No 37 in C is evidently one of the earliest works here‚ dating from the brief period from 1759 when Haydn was Kapellmeister to Count Morzin. Fischer in the Lamentation Symphony again makes the music more biting with his emphasis on sharp dynamic contrasts and his very fast Allegro – faster even than with Christopher Hogwood in his period performance on L’Oiseau­Lyre (4/94). Even more strikingly‚ No 39 in G minor‚ the last of the numbered symphonies here‚ is a wonderful example of Sturm und Drang‚ enhanced by Fischer at the start by the way he exaggerates the pauses between the nervily tentative opening phrases‚ leading to the fierce and urgent Allegro. The finale too is vehemently Sturm und Drang‚ with its rushing strings and four horns‚ again brilliantly used as in the Hornsignal‚ No 31 – as Robbins Landon puts it‚ ‘a tight­fisted work’. Throughout this set Fischer consistently relishes the originality of scoring‚ as in the Trio of the Minuet of No 29 in E‚ where suddenly in E minor the horns in octaves hold a sustained note‚ an effect made the more eerie here with the strings stilling their vibrato in period style‚ as they regularly do in these performances. The Symphonies ‘A’ and ‘B’‚ the one dating from the Morzin period‚ the other from the early 1760s‚ make an apt supplement as they come from the same period. These are both works which were only identified as symphonies rather than string quartets when in recent years wind parts were discovered. Whether or not Fischer and his orchestra of selected players from Vienna and Budapest will go on to record other supplementary works and alternative versions (for another record company following Nimbus’s demise)‚ as Dorati did‚ theirs is a superb achievement‚ with the cycle of numbered symphonies now most satisfyingly completed.

-- Gramophone 1/2002

Classical Music

Includes work(s) for pno by Federico Mompou. Soloist: Martin Jones.

Classical Music

Members of the Mosaiques together with Patrick Cohen reawakened us to the delight of yet another evolving genre in which Haydn, once again, had ‘to become original’, in their piano trio recordings on Harmonia Mundi (11/91, 9/93, 9/95 and 5/96); now the Vienna Piano Trio, following hard on the heels of their own excellent Dvorak and Beethoven Trios (9/97), fill in some of the gaps, in close, sometimes breathy, but always thrillingly true new recordings of four of the Haydn trios.

The Gipsy Trio may have been written in and for London, but this ensemble’s short, snappy bowing, stomping piano accents and, above all, uniquely instinctive fluctuations of tempo and pulse in the finale, locate the work unmistakably in the grape-treading, Romany heart of the Burgenland. The steps of the dance shape and pervade the ETrio, too, in the jauntily sprung rhythms of the opening Allegretto, and the splendidly boisterous and cross-accented Allemande of its finale.

Among countless other delights in these bold and addictive performances is the sensitivity to the power of silence, and the short, hushed half-tones within the long-breathed lines of the Andante of the A major Trio. And, not least, the perceptive understanding and judgement of the shifting qualities of an Allegro which so well supports the structure of the outer movements of the D major, as well as enabling many a clearly articulated yet fanciful variation in the Gipsy Trio.

-- Hilary Finch, Gramophone [12/1997]

Raphael Wallfisch recorded the First Cello Concerto for Chandos, one of the very first CD releases on that label, coupled with the Barber Concerto. It was a good performance, but it pales in comparison with his remake here. This set offers what is, hands down, the finest pairing of the two Shostakovich Cello Concertos since Heinrich Schiff and the composer's son--with all due respect to Rostropovich--set the modern standard in this music (on Philips). The First Concerto comes across with positively frightening intensity, a product not just of Wallfisch's strong projection of the solo, but also owing much to the take-no-prisoners accompaniments of Martyn Brabbins and the BBC Symphony. Just listen to the interplay between Wallfisch and the sneering, threatening woodwind section--it's what this music is all about.

At the opening of the second movement, Wallfisch adopts a dusky, gamba-like sonority: think of Dowland's Lachrymae. The instrument truly seems to weep through the music, while the finale acquires an extra degree of bitter edge by being played very rhythmically, but not too quickly. Wallfisch really comes into his own in the cadenza, holding the entire movement together through perfect timing and a wide range of tone colors and dynamics. It's a great performance, as is that of the comparatively neglected Second Concerto.

Again we find soloist, conductor, and orchestra keenly attuned to the music's overt emotionalism. In the first movement, Wallfisch and Brabbins subtly characterize both the first and second subjects, preventing any hint of monotonous sameness in the exposition section. The development rises to a splendidly impassioned climax, followed by a ghostly coda that never drags.

In the central scherzo, once again a comparatively deliberate tempo combines with punchy rhythms to the music's expressive advantage, while the lengthy half-sweet, half-grotesque variation-finale never has been so colorfully projected. This is such a beautiful work; only the fact that it ends quietly and mysteriously conspires to keep it in the shadow of the First Concerto. In some ways it's even more melodically appealing, and this is a performance that captures its wide-ranging expression as well or better than any other.

The inclusion of the Cello Sonata and the cello arrangement of the late Viola Sonata, along with two miscellaneous short pieces, completes a package offering all of Shostakovich's music featuring solo cello. In the chamber works, John York is the sensitive piano accompanist, and both he and Wallfisch offer excellent interpretations of both large works. The finale of the Viola/Cello Sonata is particularly well held-together, with the youthful freshness of the earlier "true" Cello Sonata enthusiastically captured.

The engineering in the concertos is absolutely outstanding: balances between cello and orchestra are perfectly judged, but the microphones still capture a tremendous amount of ear-catching detail. Obviously a great deal of credit for this has to go to Brabbins and the orchestra, who offer none of that generic, lazy professionalism so common today. These performances display an idiomatic style of a kind that you seldom find even inside Russia today (witness Pletnev's often bland Russian National Orchestra, or Gergiev's mediocre Kirov band). The result is an absolutely irresistible set that no fan of Shostakovich will want to miss.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

Classical Music

"I’m convinced that Perlemuter’s Ravel is the best of him in [his] Nimbus recordings, more even than the raft of Chopin performances. Miroirs is a delight; Noctuelles is full of evocative precision, and the poetic sensitivity he evinces is propelled with unselfconscious control in these early, 1973 recordings made in the studio. Textual control radiates outwards from these traversals. As for Gaspard there’s a total lack of fuss in Ondine – but the avoidance of artifice is a function of the poetic hauteur that gives such meaning to his playing. His Sonatine is crisp, the Valses animated by an especially witty Vif whilst Le Tombeau de Couperin moves with grace and deft accentuation, a notch slower than the BBC 1970 broadcast that has circulated. Seeking an analogue, this is the kind of pointillist playing George Copeland brought to Debussy, in contradistinction to Gieseking’s Turneresque wash; both wonderful but both very different. Perlemuter’s Ravel is a breath of fresh air."

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

The operatic overture is the composers “hook” to enthrall the audience immediately as the house lights dim and the first notes sound from the orchestra pit. Some of the most popular overtures are featured here, and come from powerhouse composers like Strauss, Smetana, and Verdi. William Boughton conducts the Philharmonia Orchestra for this recording. He has been with the ESO since he founded the ensemble in 1980. Since its inception, the ensemble has built an extensive discography with Nimbus Records.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Irish Folk: Adieu to Old Ireland

World Travel: Caribbean Steeldrums

Rosanegra: Fado Ladino

Music of Tunisia

Classical Music

Classical Music