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Sale4 Symphonies - Brahms, Dvorak, Sibelius, Nielsen / Dausgaard, Danish National Symphony Orchestra
C Major Entertainment · Jun 2012DVD$32.99$16.49 -
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SaleHaydn: Symphonies Nos. 7 & 83, Violin Concerto In C Major / Handel & Haydn Society
Coro · Feb 2016CD$20.99$10.49 -
Strauss: Burleske In D Minor, Trv 145 - Beethoven: Symphony No. 7 In A Major, Op. 92
Orfeo · Aug 2008CD$16.99 -
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Kenins: Symphonies Nos. 2, 3 & 7 / Poga, Latvian National Symphony Orchestra
Ondine · Sep 2022CD$18.99 -
Bruckner: Symphony No 7 In E Major / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
BR Klassik · Sep 2009SACD$19.99 -
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Schubert: Symphony No. 7 Reconstructed / Venzago, Berner Symphonieorchester
Prospero Classical · Feb 2022CD$20.99 -
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Prokofiev: Complete Symphonies / Alsop, Orquestra Sinfônica do Estado de São Paulo
Naxos · Apr 2021CD$51.99 -
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Bruckner: Symphony No 7 / Tennstedt, Boston Symphony Orchestra
(1885 version, ed. L. Nowak)
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Klaus Tennstedt, conductor
Recorded live from the Symphony Hall, Boston, 5 November 1977
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: Enhanced Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Booklet notes: English, French, German
Running time: 66 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
R E V I E W:
A top-quality performance of Bruckner’s Seventh under a great conductor.
The welcome expansion of Klaus Tennstedt’s recorded legacy through the issue of live performances continues with this reading of Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony from Boston. This was a work that Tennstedt did not take into the recording studios though there is another live account, this time on CD, on the LPO Live label (LPO0030). That issue preserves a 1984 performance but I have not heard it.
It was with the Boston Symphony Orchestra that Tennstedt made his US debut in 1974, when one of the programmes he offered consisted of Bruckner’s Eighth Symphony. By all accounts that performance had the critics in raptures. It appears from the booklet note that when Tennstedt gave three performances of the Seventh three years later the critics, who attended the first of the performances, were a little less impressed, praising the conductor’s interpretation but finding fault with some of the playing; it was suggested that perhaps the performance was under-rehearsed. By the time the third performance came round – the one preserved here – it would seem that these little difficulties had been ironed out. There are one or two very minor slips but the overall standard of playing is extremely high and one has the definite impression that conductor and players are as one.
Oddly, the image on the cover of this CD is not taken from the performance we see. For this Boston concert Tennstedt eschewed a score and therefore had no need to wear spectacles. In fact the Tennstedt we see in this film is quite youthful-looking. The recording is presented in “Enhanced Mono” – I’m unsure what that means but the sound is perfectly satisfactory – so we don’t quite get the benefit of Tennstedt’s layout of the string section: the violins are massed on his left but the violas are to his right – where many conductors place the cellos – and the Boston cello section is seated to the right hand of the violas.
The reading is a very fine one. Tennstedt moulds the long, expansive cello melody at the start of the first movement with great care and evident feeling. As the movement unfolds he takes the second subject quite swiftly, though he’s not too hasty. This performance is one of those that remind us that Bruckner was a musical descendant of Schubert – and Tennstedt was a fine exponent of Schubert’s Ninth. The listener is left in no doubt that Tennstedt has the measure of the span and structure of this movement. That’s even more the case with his account of the solemn Adagio. This is a noble, burnished reading and though Tennstedt maintains a good objective stance there’s no doubt that he feels every phrase. He shapes the music splendidly and the Boston players respond to him with playing of distinction. The strings are wonderfully rich in tone, with just the right amount of weight, while the brass are sonorous. This is one of those performances where everything just feels right – and inevitable. The cymbal and triangle are included at the main climax.
Tennstedt ensures that the rhythms of the scherzo have real lift and spring while the lyrical trio is affectionately phrased. The finale is completely successful. Tennstedt mixes energy with expansive phrasing and the brass-dominated episodes are delivered with due majesty.
Tennstedt’s rendition of this symphony is deeply satisfying and it’s marvellous to have an example of him at work with one of the finest orchestras in the USA. We’re told that he worked regularly with the BSO until 1987 so I hope very much that ICA may be able to license more material, either audio or visual, from the orchestra’s archives. I found it fascinating to look at the BSO of thirty-five years ago and I noted with some surprise how few female musicians there were on the stage – possibly eight at most, including the orchestra’s celebrated principal flautist, Doriot Anthony Dwyer. Furthermore, at that time there don’t seem to have been too many young players in the BSO’s ranks. I bet things have changed quite a lot in the intervening period. The thing that really matters is that the Boston Symphony of 1977 vintage was a fine, seasoned ensemble and it’s a joy to hear them play under this great conductor.
The visual presentation is reliable and gives a good representation of the concert. One minor irritant, I found, was the director’s occasional propensity for split-screen shots, showing us, for example, the principal oboist in one half of the screen and the principal clarinettist in the other. Happily, this doesn’t occur too often and it may not bother other viewers. The key thing is that if you invest in this DVD you’ll acquire a top-quality performance of Bruckner’s Seventh under a great conductor.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Bruckner: Symphony No. 7
4 Symphonies - Brahms, Dvorak, Sibelius, Nielsen / Dausgaard, Danish National Symphony Orchestra
4 SYMPHONIES • Thomas Dausgaard, cond; Danish Natl SO • C MAJOR 710508 (DVD: 168:00) Live: Copenhagen 2009
BRAHMS Symphony No. 1. DVO?ÁK Symphony No. 9. SIBELIUS Symphony No. 5. NIELSEN Symphony No. 3
If, as I did, you were to begin your examination of this release with disc 1, track 1 (the Brahms symphony), you might well conclude that there was little need to continue. There is something rather too cool and casual about Dausgaard’s interpretation of this powerful music. It lacks inner tension. There is not enough contrast between ideas. Accents are in the wrong places. Short notes are cheated of their value. And that’s not all. The second movement just plods on, the third is charmless, the fourth frantic and lurches from one tempo change to the next. Listening to the complete symphony several times could not induce me to alter my initial unfavorable observations. Adding visual insult to aural injury, sight and sound are not synchronized, and the difference between the two is disturbing, to put it mildly.
But then came the Nielsen symphony. What a difference! Right from the opening moments it had all the vigor and élan and determination lacking in the Brahms. Rhythms were tight and crisp. The music bristled with enthusiasm and commitment. The finale positively beamed with Elgarian nobility and breadth, rising to an absolutely thrilling climax. What a joy! Nielsen’s Third had hitherto never been one of my favorite symphonies, but Dausgaard nearly made it so in this performance.
Does Dausgaard work his magic on the two remaining works as well? The answer, I’m glad to say, is yes. Furthermore, the synchronization problem that affected the Brahms symphony is only minimal in the Nielsen and nonexistent in Dvo?ák and Sibelius. The “New World” Symphony receives one of the finest performances I have heard. Dausgaard’s approach is no romantic wallow but rather a clean, purposeful traversal filled with taut rhythms, precise attacks and releases, glowing sound, and architectural strength. Dausgaard likewise makes a strong case for the Sibelius Fifth, never allowing momentum to sag, carefully propelling the music forward with masterly control. I am particularly impressed with the ease in which he handles the tempo change for the second part of the first movement. By the time the grand climax of the finale arrives, one feels a great journey has been completed.
All four performances were recorded live in Copenhagen’s Koncerthuset in 2009. The personnel changes from symphony to symphony, but both principal horns, both principal trumpets, and both timpanists are star players. Generally the woodwinds are excellent, but violins seem a bit thin for an orchestra that is otherwise so assured and well balanced. However, the basses make up for this deficiency with their huge, rich sound, heard at its best at the quiet endings of three of the Brahms movements and in some of the more powerful moments of the Dvo?ák symphony. Aside from the basses, the orchestra plays with a bright sound, textures are clear and clean, balances are well controlled.
The camerawork is devoted about 20 percent of the time to Dausgaard and his facial contortions, 10 percent to views of the full orchestra from afar, and 70 percent to the business of jerking the viewer’s eyes from one instrumental close-up to another—two seconds of a horn player’s embouchure, a second of flute keys, two notes from the timpani, etc. Who determined that this is what we want to see? I find it annoying to the point where I simply can’t bear to watch.
On ArkivMusic the price for these four symphonies is $27 ($40 for the Blu-ray version)—just under $7 a symphony, a good buy even without the inferior Brahms symphony, especially for performances as fine as the other three.
FANFARE: Robert Markow
Bruckner: Symphony No. 7 In E Major, Wab 107 (Live)
Welser-Möst conducts the Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra in this 1989 recording of Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony. The interpretation by these young performers was astonishing in its transcendence and manner of outlining the work’s musical contrasts. It’s no surprise that the press greeted the conductor and orchestra as a sensation and great hope for the future.
SYMPHONY 7
Bruckner: Symphony No. 7 in E Major, WAB 107
Haydn: Symphonies Nos. 7 & 83, Violin Concerto In C Major / Handel & Haydn Society
Kenins: Symphonies Nos. 2, 3 & 7 / Poga, Latvian National Symphony Orchestra
Final volume in the first-ever complete recorded cycle of symphonies by Talivaldis Keninš (1919–2008), one of the most prominent post-WW2 composers in Latvia and Canada. This album includes three of the composer’s eight numbered symphonies performed by the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra under Andris Poga.
Although born in Latvia, Keninš lived most of his life as an exile. He was educated in Paris, where he studied under Tony Aubin and Olivier Messiaen, and won several awards. Keninš emigrated to Canada in 1951 and became a respected pedagogue and a very influential figure in Canada’s music life. Alongside his eight symphonies, the composer also wrote 12 concertos. However, he also included many concertante elements in his symphonies and the Symphony No. 2, “Sinfonia concertante” (1967), scored for three wind instruments and symphony orchestra, is very close to a triple concerto. The symphony’s extensive second movement is based on a lullaby of the Mi’kmaq First Nations people. Symphony No. 3 (1970) was completed few years after its predecessor and is a step forward in the composer’s journey as a symphonist. Here we encounter the idea of a lyrical hero, which, in the ears of the listener, could be personified. Although many consider Kenins’ 8th Symphony to be his symphonic climax, the 7th Symphony (1980) is by no means a lesser work: it could be even considered as one of the composer’s most personal and intimate creations. The symphony ends with an aria based on a text by the composer’s father and the atmosphere of the work seems to stem from the composer’s emotional trauma on the occupation of his native Latvia by the Soviet troops.
REVIEW:
Ķeniņš composed his first symphony when he was forty and almost a decade elapsed before he turned to the genre again. However, his Symphony No 2 “Sinfonia concertante” does not strictly adhere to any symphonic mould. That the composer had a trio of wind instruments as some sort of a concertino tends to show that he was not completely sure of how to tackle that form again. This also shows is the lay-out of the piece, i.e three movements of strongly contrasting character as well as weight. In fact, the whole weight of the symphony lies in the long central movement whereas the brief opening Lento and the equally brief final Molto animato e marcato merely function as a prelude and epilogue of some sort. Moreover, the central Molto moderato: Tema e variazioni is twice as long as the two other movements put together. The weighty central movement is cast as a theme and variations on a lullaby of the Mi’kmaq First Nations people which the composer also used in his Suite in D major for organ. Anyone interested in what the Mi’kmaq First Nations people may be referred to Wikipedia for it all seems a rather long story. The variation movement of the Second Symphony is an impressive piece of music in which Kenins’ contrapuntal mastery is already fully displayed.
The Symphony No 3 is Ķeniņš’ first large-scale work for large symphony orchestra and again the composer demonstrates his assurance in his handling of form and counterpoint. The central movement Lento inquieto, though shorter than that of the Second Symphony, is again the emotional heart of the piece but it is nevertheless counterbalanced by two outer movements of fairly equal length but of quite different character. Georgs Pelēcis is quoted in Orets Silabriedis’ excellent notes as saying that “Kenins rejects seemingly essential symphony ingredients, such as the sonata form. That does not appear in any of the three movements … only one main theme is developed in each movement, and they are all interrelated. The unifying element is the rich chromatic intonations …”. The Third Symphony is clearly a work by a composer in full command of his aims and means, which shows in the way that the composer handles polyphony – an essential component of his music making. The first and second movements end with uncertainty, preparing for what is to follow, but the final movement Molto animato e brioso ends with an assertive gesture. As Silabriedis puts it: “I am responsible for everything that I have said and done”. (Incidentally, one might be reminded of RVW, whose Fourth Symphony also ends abruptly with a fist banging on a table and a door brutally slammed.
The Symphony No 7 “Symphony in the form of a Passacaglia” is scored for large orchestra and a mezzo-soprano in the final aria. Half the duration of the piece is purely orchestral and cast as a fully developed Passacaglia capped, so to say, by a short Allegro molto before the final aria for mezzo-soprano on a poem by the composer’s father, Atis Ķeniņš (1874–1961), who was also a statesman and one of the founders of the Republic of Latvia in 1919. The poem must have had a particularly personal resonance for the composer. “The mezzo-soprano solo links the composer more tightly with his family roots, expresses itself in more trusting and optimistic feelings; however, the unease in the harmonies and rhythm likely cannot hide the composer’s fears about out era. The concluding epilogue is like an Agnus Dei. The finale should express hope and faith, which stands over life’s troubles, soothing our darkest predictions, and suppressing our fears” (the composer’s words quoted in Silabriedis’ notes). The text, as translated in the booklet, may seem somewhat dated but has now acquired some new relevance in our troubled times and the symphony now carries a most welcome and needed appeal for peace. Nonetheless, Ķeniņš’ Seventh Symphony is quite an impressive piece of music in its own right and its “message” (if such there is) may be heard by any man of goodwill.
This final installment in Ondine’s Ķeniņš cycle has been carefully prepared and is as immaculately performed as the preceding ones. These are committed performances throughout, in excellent sound, up to Ondine’s best standards and Orests Silabriedis’ notes are excellent.
Ķeniņš’ symphonic cycle is on a par with other largely forgotten similar cycles that would probably have remained ignored or little known, were it not for brave and enterprising recording companies who have invested in similar projects. Examples that immediately come to mind are BIS’ recordings of Tubin’s symphonies and the hopefully ongoing Wordsworth cycle by Toccata. One cannot but hope that ventures such as these will encourage others to follow suit.
Ķeniņš’ music is too good to be ignored and these performances do it full justice; I am sure that they will play a part in securing his music its deserved status.
-- MusicWeb International
Schubert: Symphony No. 7 Reconstructed / Venzago, Berner Symphonieorchester
Johann Nepomuk David: Symphonies 3 & 7
Vladimir Feltsman: The Complete Columbia Album Collection
In summer 1987, nine years after he first requested permission to emigrate, the 35-year-old Russian pianist Vladimir Feltsman was finally allowed to leave the Soviet Union. Feltsman, who had studied at the Moscow Conservatory with the legendary Yakov Flier and won first prize at the prestigious Long-Thibaud Competition in Paris at the age of 19, arrived in New York amid a welter of publicity. CBS Masterworks offered him a recording contract, while President Ronald Reagan welcomed him to the White House for a recital that was glowingly reviewed in the New York Times.
When Feltsman made his Carnegie Hall debut two months later, the Times hailed him as “an artist of wide musical interests who on this occasion included three pieces from Messiaen’s Vingt Regards sur l’Enfant Jésusto set off more popular works by Schubert and Schumann … Mr. Feltsman took an aptly spacious and relaxed approach to the first two movements [of Schubert’s A major Sonata D 664)] … He then let loose in the more brilliant Allegro finale with an impressive display of breathtaking scales … In the Messiaen, Mr. Feltsman drew out its great, clashing sonorities and made light of its technical terrors. At the conclusion of Schumann’sSymphonic Etudes, any lingering doubts about Mr. Feltsman’s pianistic strengths or artistic instincts were blown away.”
Interest in Feltsman’s pianism had already been piqued before the pianist set foot in the New World by a performance, released by CBS in 1986, of the Chopin Preludes recorded in Moscow. “Feltsman sweeps through the 24 Preludes with genuine poetic bravura,” wrote the Los Angeles Times. “There is a daring and Romantic fire in the playing which only add to the agony of his plight.”
Now Sony Classical is reissuing that Carnegie debut recital from 1987, a Russian Chopin recording that preceded it and an even earlier Schubert recital, from Paris in 1978, along with all the other Feltsman performances captured by CBS mics before his collaboration with the label ended in 1989. Among them are a live Liszt recital including the B minor Sonata and a live Rachmaninoff coupling of the Third Concerto andRhapsody on a Theme of Paganini with Zubin Mehta and the Israel Philharmonic: “Feltsman’s pianistic control compels admiration. He is a commanding player.” (Gramophone).
He also recorded the First and Third Tchaikovsky concertos with Washington’s National Symphony Orchestra under Mstislav Rostropovich, who, wrote Gramophone’s reviewer, “coaxes out playing of the very highest quality – rich-toned, idiomatic in inflexion, with just the right degree of thrust when required … [Feltsman’s] is a relatively laid back view of the First Concerto – no screaming in the outer movements, no flash-fingered shallowness in the central prestissimo of the slow movement. The big first movement cadenza is wonderfully fluid and continuous, and the transition into the following coda is a dream. There is much sensitive dialogue between piano and orchestra, well captured by the recording … a performance one can learn from, and the Third Concerto goes splendidly.”
Feltsman’s last CBS recording featured the first two Prokofiev Piano Concertos and ten pieces from Romeo and Juliet: “One has only to hear the refinement of colour he produces in ‘Romeo bids Juliet farewell’ … or the clarity and lightness of articulation in the First Concerto to realize that he possesses not only formidable fingers but very considerable artistry … The LSO under Michael Tilson Thomas produce excellent support … Again [in Concerto No. 2] there is splendid pianism from Feltsman and cultured playing from Tilson Thomas and the LSO.”
SET CONTENTS:
DISC 1:
Chopin: Préludes, Op. 28
DISC 2:
Schubert: Fantasy in C Major, Op. 15, D. 760 "Wanderer"
Schubert: Moments musicaux, Op. 94, D. 780
DISC 3:
Schubert: Sonata for Piano in A Major, Op. 120, D. 664
Messiaen: Vingt regards sur L'enfant-Jésus
DISC 4:
Schumann: Symphonic Études (Variations) in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 13
Rachmaninoff: Prélude in G-Sharp Minor, Op. 32, No. 12
Beethoven: 6 Variations on an Original Theme in D Major, Op. 76
DISC 5:
Rachmaninoff: Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 30
Rachmaninoff: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op. 43
Conductor: Zubin Mehta
Performer: Israel Philharmonic Orchestra
DISC 6:
Prokofiev: Piano Concerto No. 1 in D-Flat Major, Op. 10
Prokofiev: Piano Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 16 (1923 Version)
Prokofiev: 10 Pieces from Romeo and Juliet, Op. 75: No. 10, Romeo and Juliet before Parting
Conductor: Michael Tilson Thomas
Orchestra: London Symphony Orchestra
DISC 7:
Liszt: Sonata in B Minor
Liszt: Tre Sonetti di Petrarca
Liszt: St. Francis d'Assise: La predication aux oiseaux
DISC 8:
Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat minor, Op. 23
Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 3 in E-flat Major, Op. 75: Allegro brillante
Conductor: Mstislav Rostropovich
Orchestra: National Symphony Orchestra
Paganini: Works For Violin And Orchestra - First Complete Edition
PAGANINI Violin and Orchestra Works • Massimo Quarta (vn, cond); 1 Salvatore Accardo (vn); 2 Yehudi Menuhin (vn); 5 Franco Mazzena (vn); 6,7 Ruggiero Ricci (vn); 8 Luigi Alberto Bianchi (va); 9 Franco Traverso (hn); 10 Rino Vernizzi (bn); 10 Genova Teatro del Carlo Felice O; 1 Charles Dutoit, cond; 3 London SO; 3 Franco Tamponi, cond; 4 Europe CO; 4 Pierre Monteux, cond; 5 Paris SO; 5 Luigi Porro, cond; 7 Coro Januensis; 7 Piero Mordini, cond; 8 I Virtuosi di Assisi; 8 Jacques Delacôte, cond; 9 RIAS O Berlin; 9 Antonio Plotino, cond; 6,7,10 Genova CO 6, 7,10 • DYNAMIC 622 (8 CDs: 516:01)
Violin Concertos: No. 1 in E?; 1 No. 1 in D; 5 No. 2 in b; 1 No. 3 in E; 1 No. 4 in d; 1 No. 4 in d; 8 No. 5 in a. 1 Grand Concerto in e. 1 Adagio in E. 1 La primavera. 2,3 Maestosa sonata sentimentale. 2,3 Sonata con variazioni. 2,3 Introduction and Variations on “Non più mesta.” 2,3 Le streghe. 2,3 Sonata Varsavia. 2 Sonata Maria Luisa. 2 Pollaca con variazioni. 2 Balletto campestre. 2 Il carnevale de Venezia. 2 Sonata movimento perpetuo. 2,3 Sonata a preghiera. 2 Sonata Napoléon. 2,3 I palpiti. 2,3 Tarantella. 6 Le couvent du Mont St. Bernard. 7 Sonata per Grand Viola. 9 Niccolò Paganini a Mr. Henry 10
Dynamic has collected its recordings of Paganini’s works for violin and orchestra into an eight-CD set. Since everything has been previously released (and most of it reviewed in the pages of Fanfare ), the principal advantage to potential collectors should lie in the convenience of having everything in one place, in generally idiomatic performances and excellently detailed recorded sound.
I reviewed Massimo Quarta’s performances on Paganini’s Cannon of the First and Second Concertos (the First, played in the original key of E? Major, with the violin part scordatura) in 24:3 (these two concertos appear on the first disc of the current set), noting the historical importance of the appearance in recordings of the First Concerto in its original key (involving tuning the violin a half-step higher and thereby increasing the tension of the strings, brightening the instrument’s timbre). My original impression of Quarta’s brilliance in these works (listen to his crackling version of his own edited version of Sauret’s cadenza to the First Concerto or his own dazzling, though somewhat long, cadenza for the Second) has never faded; I’ve carried this recording around with me in my van since regular listening and familiarity haven’t yet bred contempt. Quarta made the original recordings in July 1999 in Genoa’s Teatro Carlo Felice, utilizing transcriptions by Matiaresa Dellaborra and scores revised by Quarta himself and Giulio Odero.
The second disc brings the Third and Fifth Concertos, which have been previously available in Dynamic’s set of Paganini’s concertos played by Quarta on the Cannon (Dynamic 450, which included a multimedia CD featuring the Cannon and a performance of the Adagio in E Major). He recorded these concertos in September 2001 and 2002, again in Genoa’s Teatro Carlo Felice, making use of a new orchestration by Francesco Fiore for the Fifth Concerto (collectors will remember the somewhat anachronistic earlier orchestration by Federico Mompellio that made its recording debut in Franco Gulli’s premiere recording of the work on LP—Decca (7)10081. Once again, Quarta revised the scores of the works for the performances. The Third Concerto has come a long way since Henryk Szeryng’s technically brilliant though rhetorically less convincing first recorded performance. Quarta imparts to the score the kind of brilliance with which Paganini’s name has become associated—if not the sense of macabre fantasy that his name conjured for his contemporaries. Fiore’s orchestration for the Fifth Concerto creates an impression of greater stylistic appropriateness that doesn’t distract from the Concerto’s overall effect as Mompellio’s score must have for many listeners. Besides, it enhances the effect of the exceptionally expressive slow movement. Salvatore Accardo, like Quarta, another winner of the Paganini competition, recorded all the Paganini concertos (the ones he recorded in the 1970s with Dutoit and the London Symphony Orchestra now appear in a six-CD set issued by Deutsche Grammophon—also available through the Musical Heritage Society on 5661921—there’s another set with Accardo and the Italian Chamber Orchestra on EMI); but Accardo never quite projected, at least to me, the almost startling command that nowadays substitutes for Paganini’s eldritch violinistic imagination (I’ve mentioned before that Alexander Markov manages to capture some of that fantasy in his recordings of Paganini, such as those of the first two concertos and the caprices, reissued on Apex 699872, 32:1, which I included in last year’s Want List). And Accardo made use of Szeryng’s versions of the Third and Fourth Concertos and of Mompellio’s accompaniment to the Fifth.
The set’s third disc brings performances by Quarta on Paganini’s Cannon of the “Grand Concerto” in E Minor, which has elsewhere been billed as the Sixth Concerto and which first surfaced in a version for violin and guitar. Again, the scores have been revised by Quarta, who also wrote cadenzas for them; and Francesco Fiore provided accompaniments for the “Grand Concerto” and for the Adagio in E Major that tops off the disc. The performances, again, took place in Genoa’s Teatro Carlo Felice. The “Grand Concerto,” which Danilo Prefumo’s notes suggest comes from Paganini’s early years, seems more akin in its passagework to Viotti’s models (Viotti-like figuration, for example, rubs shoulders in the last movement with motives that could have come directly from Paganini’s own Second Concerto). Again, the work first appeared with an orchestration by Mompellio. Fiore’s seems to make more frequent use of obbligato woodwinds than Paganini’s own arrangements seemingly do. Although Paganini’s characteristic double-stopping appears to have been thrust into the background (had it yet developed as a stroke in his signature?), Quarta makes this Concerto sound nearly as striking in its effect as do the others. The Fourth Concerto received an early recording by Arthur Grumiaux (on LP—Epic LC-3143) and Ruggiero Ricci also became an early champion. But it’s bracing to hear this work played in a fully digital format by Quarta. The Adagio, which Prefumo’s note suggests took form about the same time as did the Second Concerto (with the pages of which it seems to have been entangled), shares a great deal with the slow movements of the other concertos, including the typical quasi-recitative outburst of drama. Fiore realized its very sketchy accompaniment.
The fourth disc comprises five shorter works played by Salvatore Accardo, who recorded the Primavera, Non più mesta , and Le streghe in April 1975 and the Maestosa sonata sentimentale and the Sonata con variazioni in January 1976, all for Deutsche Grammophon, and they’ve been issued in various formats. (The Maestosa sonata sentimentale and the Sonata con variazioni appeared on LP as Deutsche Grammophon 2536 376 PSI—reviewed by John Bauman in 7:3—along with the Napoléon Sonata , the Palpiti , and the Perpetuela , which appear elsewhere in Dynamic’s collection.) Accardo plays these pieces stylishly, with perhaps a less aggressive articulation than Quarta’s in the concertos, but with a thorough command of their technical fireworks and a highly ingratiating manner. La primavera sports an accompaniment that hardly seems to fit the violin part’s period, but Danilo Prefumo notes that only the violin part had been available (he conjectures that the work might have been one mentioned in 1838). Its effects include a series of arpeggios like those that bring the cadenza to Mendelssohn’s Concerto to a close, in this case under the thematic material that enters before the finale. Prefumo assigns the Maestosa sonata sentimentale to 1828, as a tribute to the Emperor Franz I in gratitude for his bestowing upon him the title of “Chamber Virtuoso”—the work consists, after an introduction, of variations for the G string on the Austrian national anthem, which Wieniawski would later take for a set of variations of his own. The difficulties of intonation and tone production on the G string must have been staggering (I’ve read that Paganini’s pupil, Camillo Sivori, played the “Moses” variations only by cutting all the other strings and placing the G string in the middle of a small violin!), so it’s little wonder if Accardo occasionally misses a note. Once again, the orchestral accompaniment hardly seems entirely idiomatic. The Sonata con variazioni , often billed as Variations on a Theme of Joseph Weigl , also poses problems in intonation that Accardo struggles to master (Ruggiero Ricci made a dashing recording of this piece with piano, included in his LP album, “Bravura,” Decca DL 710172, that tames its difficulties, although Accardo’s double harmonics at the end sound especially confident and rotund). The Variations on “Non più mesta” from Rossini’s La cenerentola comes, according to Prefumo, from about 1819. If they sound somewhat scrappy in this performance, it should be remembered that the best recordings of Paganini (even perhaps Rabin’s of the caprices) contain imperfectly polished moments. The Witches’ Dance may be one of the most familiar of Paganini’s compositions—even budding violinists play the theme in one of many arrangements. Accardo plays the introductory passages with a suavity that characterizes most of the performances on the disc. Once again, the technical passages cause him some trouble, but he maintains his composure. The violin sounds sweeter in the performances of this fourth disc than the Cannon does in the three that open the set.
The fifth disc includes four works that Salvatore Accardo recorded for EMI in 1983: the Sonata Varsavia, Sonata Maria Luisa, Polacca con variazioni , and Balletto campestre . John Bauman reviewed the re-release of this recording on LP (Angel DS 38128) in 8:3. The lighthearted Sonata Varsavia showcases Accardo in a jovial mood, with a spotlight on his bag of tricks (staccatos of various kinds, harmonics, and some brilliant pizzicatos). Danilo Prefumo points out that Paganini transferred the opening to the Fifth Concerto. Bauman mentions that Edward Neill’s original notes explain that Accardo had played, in the Sonata Maria Luisa , a five-string controviola that he had constructed for the purpose in 1982. Prefumo identifies the Polacca con variazioni , a showpiece of easy elegance with an ingratiating double-stopped variation at its center, with a work mentioned in 1810. The concerto-length Balletto campestre , its tema comico reminiscent of the “Solfeggio” familiar from performances by the “Nairobi Trio” on Ernie Kovacs’s television show, fills almost half the program. According to Bauman’s notes, Paganini scholar Edward Neill composed the orchestral accompaniment to the violin part, to which Accardo imparts an almost jazzy twang at times. In this work and in the Sonata Varsavia , Accardo displays some of the dash and verve required to spice Paganini’s sometimes somewhat skeletal parts. In fact, the entire fifth disc seems like a joy ride through the violin’s upper regions, both on the fingerboard and technically in general.
The sixth disc includes the famous Carnival of Venice variations, the Sonata movimento perpetuo, Sonata a preghiera, Sonata Napoléon , and I palpiti . Some of these works (but not entirely) appeared on another LP, Angel DS 38127 (again, reviewed by John Bauman in 8:3) and others on the Deutsche Grammophon LP mentioned above, 7:3. Salvatore Accardo recorded the Carnival of Venice and the first two movements of the Sonata movimento perpetuo (according to Dynamic’s booklet) and the Sonata a preghiera digitally with Tamponi and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe in December 1983, but the final movement of the Sonata movimento perpetuo, Sonata Napoléon , and I palpiti in January 1976 with Dutoit and the London Philharmonic. Bauman’s headnote lists a moto perpetuo from the Angel collection, but checking the disc reveals it’s the familiar one in C Major, not the movement on this sixth disc. The set of variations, which Prefumo attributes to 1829 on the familiar tune “The Carnival of Venice,” sounds like a barn burner in this orchestral setting (Francescatti made it harder edged and flintier—but hardly more brilliant or more fun—in his evening of Paganini at the Library of Congress in 1954, Bridge 9125, 26:4). The Sonata movimento perpetuo ought to be a welcome addition to recital programs, with its winning Andante amoroso and its sparkling final perpetual motion (this one in A Major). (Prefumo relates that Paganini must have been unhappy with the first version of the work and provided the Andante amoroso as a substitute for the introductory Larghetto con passione, which appears just before it in this collection and almost composes a sort of three-movement suite or concertino.) Accardo plays with rock-like security in the Sonata a preghiera , which strains a performer’s left hand, partly because of the extreme tension of the string (Prefumo doesn’t mention that the violinist must tune the G string up a minor third to B?). Prefumo suggests that the Sonata Napoléon , like the Sonata Maria Luisa , hails from 1810, perhaps both wedding presents for Napoleon and his bride. This work contains a similar mix of harmonics and acrobatics on the G string as does its more popular cousin, and Accardo displays the reliability of his technique in a similar way. Only I palpiti sounds less than rollicking, but Accardo’s always in command.
The seventh disc brings perhaps the least familiar repertoire: the Tarantella, Le couvent du Mont St. Bernard, Niccolò Paganini a Mr. Henry , and the Sonata per Grand Viola . Dynamic recorded the first three of these pieces with Franco Mazzena and the Orchestra da Camera di Genova (the Coro Januensis appears in the first and fourth movements of the five-movement Couvent ) in September 1983; and Luigi Alberto Bianchi recorded the viola work in 1973. John Bauman reviewed the first three works when they appeared on CD (CDS 27) in 13:3, and I reviewed a later reissue of Bianchi’s performance of the Viola Sonata in 23:4. Franco Mazzena plays with a leaner and perhaps a bit more pliable tone than those of either Quarta or Accardo, but he spits the double-stops with equal impudence, though perhaps without a similar security of intonation in the Tarantella. Couvent strikes Prefumo as a hint of what Paganini might have achieved had he devoted himself to composition. It’s a five-movement fantasy, two of which include chant-like parts for male chorus. No ordinary showpiece, the work nevertheless shows off Paganini’s penchant for the unusual and perhaps the histrionic, though Prefumo’s mention of Berlioz seems appropriate, because, as in much of that composer’s Requiem, Paganini makes use of his forces mostly (except near the end of the maestosa at the end of the fourth movement, which sounds uncannily like Prokofiev’s “Alexander Nevsky”) to achieve timbral nuance rather than to create the big bow-wow. The work ends with the “Rondo del campanello,” familiar from its inclusion in the Second Concerto, which brings the work back to the sound of bells with which it opened. Mazzena sounds particularly crisp and engaging in this virtuoso romp. Just as the three duets for violin and bassoon, discovered in Camillo Sivori’s archives (and recorded by Salvatore Accardo and Claudio Gonella on Dynamic CDS 194, 21:3), demonstrate Paganini’s ear for instrumental sonorities, the two movements of Niccolò Paganini a Mr. Henry show how ably Paganini could adapt his highly individual style to the necessities of the occasion. Paganini may not have found Berlioz’s Harold in Italy an ample enough stage for his talents, but the Sonata he wrote for viola, while featuring some of his signature effects, hardly eschews his typically Rossinian operatic lyricism. As I noted in my earlier review, Bianchi doesn’t approach the viola as an oversized violin, but exploits its darker side.
The eighth disc brings historic versions of two of the concertos: the First Concerto in a historic recording of the entire work (the first, I believe) by Yehudi Menuhin in 1934 and one by Ruggiero Ricci from the 1970s of the Fourth Concerto. Writing of this performance by Menuhin, Henry Roth remarked that while Francescatti played like a lyric soprano in this work, Menuhin played like a dramatic one. However that may be, Menuhin’s performance stands alongside those of Rabin, Kogan, and Francescatti. If Ricci’s reading of the Fourth Concerto doesn’t have similarly documentary value, his life of service to Paganini certainly merits mention anywhere the composer is represented, and this live recording testifies to his stupendous if occasionally erratic virtuosity.
The question remains: would/did Paganini himself sound like any of these violinists? Listen to Alexander Markov, then imagine Markov’s eccentricities magnified a thousandfold. That’s how many of us would like to imagine Paganini himself. But since we can’t hear him, we’ll have to settle for collections like this one. Urgently recommended as the next thing, nowadays, to a time machine.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
Prokofiev: Complete Symphonies / Alsop, Orquestra Sinfônica do Estado de São Paulo
Sergey Prokofiev’s seven symphonies are acknowledged as one of the major cycles of the 20th century, and these recordings with Marin Alsop and the Sao Paulo Symphony Orchestra have received widespread critical acclaim. From the crisp vitality of the youthful ‘Classical’ Symphony to the viscerally exciting Third, the Fifth Symphony which for Prokofiev represented ‘the grandeur of the human spirit’ and the deeply moving and heartfelt Sixth Symphony, this is an unforgettable collection crowned by the bittersweet Seventh Symphony, the composer’s final significant work.
Past praise of previously released volumes included in this set:
Prokofiev: Symphonies No 1 "Classical" & 2 / Alsop
Without minimizing the Second’s violent energy, Alsop plays the piece with a vivid sense of its long melodic lines. The first movement, in particular, has plenty of excitement but also a certain lyrical emphasis that gives the music something to be excited about. It’s very convincing.
As for the Classical Symphony, well, just about everyone does it well, and while I can imagine a first movement with a touch more snap to its rhythms, the performance picks up steam as it goes, culminating in a delightfully crisp account of the finale. The early tone poem “Dreams” drifts about prettily for ten minutes, sounding like Debussy or Scriabin or basically anyone but Prokofiev. Does it deserve greater exposure? Perhaps not, but this lovely performance makes as strong a case for it as you might imagine possible. Vivid sonics make this the best release in this series so far.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Prokofiev: Symphony No. 7 & Other Orchestral Works / Alsop
Alsop captures the lyrical aspects of the Seventh work really well. She also has the advantage of a superior recording in the acoustically friendlier Sala São Paulo. The orchestra is superb throughout, but special mention should be made of the woodwinds that have notable solos in the work.
– MusicWeb International
Dvorak: Symphonic Works / Neumann, Czech
Supraphon has finally released Václav Neumann’s 1970s Dvorák symphony cycle, and what a wonderful event it is. These performances are, on the whole, fresher and freer than his digital remakes, fine though those are, and more warmly recorded. The only exception is the somewhat shrill engineering in the First Symphony, but in general the sonics are comparable to other cycles of the period—Kertész, Kubelik, and Rowicki—and this is unquestionably the best played of them all. It’s difficult to overestimate the value of having the Czech Philharmonic in top form in this music, but the sound of the ensemble really does speak for itself. Kubelik’s Berlin Philharmonic might have the best strings, and the London Symphony for Kertész and Rowicki the boldest horns, but the Czech Philharmonic has the best ensemble, top to bottom, at least in Dvorák.
Consider one example: the climax of the first movement of the Seventh Symphony, a work that shows both the orchestra and Neumann at their very best. If you imprinted on this performance, nothing else can match it in power and intensity. The passionate lyricism of the strings, the thrilling low timpani roll that propels the trombones’ upward arpeggio, and those bright, sforzando trumpets combine to make an unforgettable impression (sound clip below), and it’s all exactly as Dvorák wrote it. Interestingly, where Neumann deviates from the printed page, as in the main theme’s fortissimo counterstatement in the first movement, or in the work’s concluding chorale, he gives the doubling parts to the trumpets rather than the horns, as in most other performances, and this too proves the better decision.
This brings us to Neumann’s own contribution. Traditionally he has gotten short shrift compared to the competition. Some of this was politics. In the 1960s and ’70s the British naturally preferred anything featuring the LSO, and Kubelik was a symbol of democratic resistance to Communist rule. He also had the superb Berlin Philharmonic at his disposal, rather than his usual Bavarian Radio forces, and Deutsche Grammophon behind him. Neumann, on LP at least, was spottily available on generally horrible pressings, and he had the disadvantage to be taking over from Ancerl, an indisputably great conductor who wound up on the right side of Cold War politics. Then Neumann remade all the symphonies in digital sound, a set that Supraphon promoted intensely, and this earlier effort simply disappeared from sight.
In general, Neumann’s approach might sound a touch “old fashioned”—quick movements move at moderate speeds, slow movements flow without ever dragging. Although not quite so slow in the allegros, conductors like Otto Klemperer come to mind. And yet, Neumann is by no means lacking in energy. His Eighth Symphony is as fresh (and swift) as any in the catalog. He whips up quite a frenzy in the finale of the Fifth, and this Third Symphony might just be the best on disc. Its first movement is as energetic as can be, the central funeral march is gorgeous and never stiff, while the finale actually sounds less mechanical at this moderate speed than it does when taken more quickly. The Sixth seldom has been paced more naturally, and as Dvorák fans all know, Ancerl’s benchmark performance is a tough act to follow. Neumann has nothing to fear from the comparison, especially in the coda of the finale, which is stunning.
Neumann always did well by the “New World” Symphony, and in only a few spots in the first two symphonies does Neumann sound less than fully engaged (though in the former, he’s still more effective than in his digital remake). The third movement of the Second, particularly, needs to be crisper. Suitner on Berlin Classics is unmatched here. For the most part, though, Neumann’s performances have held up extremely well. In particular, he offers an object lesson in phrasing and, especially, the correct use of legato in lyrical passages. So many performances today, perhaps encouraged by the perpetual staccato of the early music movement, break up Dvorák’s melodies into fragments, whereas Neumann conducts in whole paragraphs.
The couplings add greatly to this set’s attractions. They are uniformly excellent. The Symphonic Variations overflows with character; the three concert overtures belong together (they share a theme, heard at the outset of In Nature’s Realm), and these versions of the four late symphonic poems rank with the best available. They are also very well recorded. So to summarize, this is a set that no one who cares about Dvorák’s symphonies can afford to ignore. Even if you have the versions just mentioned, these performances really do belong in every serious collection.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Sibelius: Symphonies Nos. 5, 7 & En Saga / Elder
“...raw, massive, glacial, thrilling. Elder and the Halle have a strong track record in this repertoire.” - The Observer
