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Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances / Petrenko, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic
Avie Records · Mar 2010CD$19.99 -
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Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer & the Recorder in the Low Countries / Bosgraaf, Corti
Brilliant Classics · Sep 2019CD$13.99 -
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Scattered Ashes: Josquin's Miserere and the Savonarolan Legacy / Cave, Magnificat
Linn Records · Mar 2016CD$29.99 -
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Rautavaara: Symphony No. 7 & Angels and Visitations / Koivula, RSNO
Angels and Visitations presents the composer in a more aggressive mood, a fact that leads some listeners to prefer it to the symphony's melancholy mellowness. Gorgeous string tone is also less of an issue here, and the orchestra's exciting brass and percussion sections make their presence felt to impressive effect. In fact, this coupling offers an excellent overview of Rautavaara's mature style, and even if you own one or all of the previous recordings of this music, you may well want to hear this disc as well. The important point is this: Rautavaara's music rewards the attention, and the fact that large works such as the Symphony enjoy multiple recordings speaks eloquently of their quality and of his importance in today's contemporary music scene. [2/15/2003]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
WILLIE THE LION SMITH & HIS JAZZ CUBS
Shostakovich: String Quartets Nos. 7-13
Finally, a Shostakovich CD by the Asasello-Quartett! The internationally successful and award-winning ensemble has long been intensively engaged with the 15 works of the great Russian composer and is now embarking on a complete recording. The new GENUIN release of Dmitri Shostakovich’s Quartets Nos. 7 - 13 now kicks off the series. According to the booklet for the production, “Love, death and dearest people – these are the themes of the works heard on this double CD.” And the Asasello-Quartett spans the breadth of interpretation just as broadly as the variety of themes outlined here: with poignancy, elegance, and virtuosity – a whole world of its own!
Norgaard: String Quartets 7, 8, 9 And 10 / Kroger Quartet
The String Quartet No.7 opens mysteriously “with faraway signal notes”. The music quickly gets more animated and unfolds through contrasting episodes characterised by capricious rhythms. The slow movement makes use of various techniques and is almost a study in microtonal writing. It creates harmonic and tonal ambiguity that is fairly quickly dispelled by the energy at play in the final movement in which we hear reminiscences from Nørgård’s Second String Quartet Quartetto Brioso composed in 1954 and revised in 1958. The Seventh String Quartet was written to celebrate the bicentenary of the Danish Royal Library, a rather improbable commission indeed considering that there is absolutely nothing academic in the music.
The String Quartet No.8 subtitled Natten sænker sig som røg (“Night Descending like Smoke”) was completed in 1997. Its five movements derive most of their thematic material from Nørgård’s Apollinaire-inspired opera Nuit des Hommes - available on DaCapo 8.226011 and reviewed here some time ago. The first movement opens with siren-like sounds before proceeding further with what is mostly a distorted rendering of a Danish hymn-tune and building to violent, final, climactic and heavily repeated chords. The second movement Man – Animal is a short brutal war-like Scherzo. The third movement Voyage suggests exactly that in various ways, mostly through rhythm. The fourth movement Night Descending, opening with a variant of the opening gesture in the preceding movement, is a sort of tense Nocturne which at times seems to come to a standstill. The final movement Epilogue – Elegy reverts to the material of the first movement albeit presented in a totally different way, “including the chorale, but now transformed or distorted into a lament” as well as brief reminders of material from the other movements. Nørgård’s Eighth String Quartet is one of the grimmest of works, but this should not surprise anyone who knows the opera on which the piece is based.
Completed a few years later, in 2001, the String Quartet No.9 subtitled Ind i kilden (“Into the Source” or “Into the Spring”) is again completely different from its immediate predecessors. Whatever the intended meaning of that subtitle - maybe “the further forward, the further backward” as suggested in the excellent insert notes accompanying this release - the music is far more approachable. It is full of typical Nørgård hallmarks and remains rather demanding, while ultimately rewarding.
Much the same can be said of the most recent work here, the String Quartet No.10 subtitled Høsttidløs (“meadow saffron”). It is in one movement and, again, is almost plain sailing – by Nørgård’s standards – when compared to the much more acerbic Eighth Quartet. The music here is mostly characterised by clarity and transparency. The very opening is a good example of such almost disarming new simplicity although much of the ensuing music is clearly from the same pen as that heard in the other quartets. This is a beautiful and engaging work and one likely to earn Nørgård new admirers.
The Kroger Quartet, for whom the Tenth Quartet was composed, play beautifully throughout and clearly have the full measure of the music Their committed and carefully prepared readings deserve only praise and admiration. The recorded sound is magnificent and the production of this release, particularly Jensen’s well-informed insert notes from which I have quoted, is first rate and well up to DaCapo’s best. This most welcome release is a must for all fans of this composer’s music. It usefully and splendidly completes Kontrapunkt’s recordings of the earlier string quartets. This is quite strong stuff but it is all well worth the effort.
-- Hubert Culot, MusicWeb International
Grainger: Country Gardens & Other Piano Favourites / Jones
Let me deal with the least attractive part first: as Jonathan Woolf noted, the recording is not to everyone’s taste – it’s certainly too reverberant for my liking, but it didn’t get in the way of my enjoyment too much. Subscribers to the Naxos Music Library might wish to try it there first but give it a chance: after a few tracks you’ll hardly notice any problem.
Just about all the likely suspects are included in the programme, together with several pieces that I would hardly have described as well-known: track 4, for example, offers Grainger’s take on Dowland’s Now, O now, I needs must part. It’s in a style far removed from the madly dancing Percy Grainger that viewers of a certain age will retain from Ken Russell’s film about Delius – that’s Grainger, that was – and, though I hardly recognised Dowland’s original tune from Grainger’s treatment, he does retain the gravity and melancholy spirit of the original.
Much the same is true of My Robin is to the Greenwood gone (track 7) – the original tune is submerged in Grainger’s arrangement of what emerges as a fine piece in its own right. Nor is a folk tune such as Near Woodstock Town (track 15) quite the same after Grainger’s treatment. Mock Morris on the following track makes no pretentions to be other than Grainger’s own take on folk music – it only sounds as if it were based on a folk tune. In many respects it’s more quintessentially Grainger than anything else and it’s brought off to perfection here.
There are several arrangements here: the next track after Dowland (tr.5) contains Blithe Bells, Grainger’s arrangement of Schafe können sicher weiden (Sheep may safely graze), though, again, Bach’s original is almost lost in the latter part of the arrangement – it’s much more Grainger’s ‘own’ than Walton’s take on the same piece in The Wise Virgins. Other tracks contain arrangements of Stanford, Tchaikovsky and Richard Strauss – a characteristic Ramble on the final love-duet of Rosenkavalier.
The pop items are skilfully interwoven in the programme, starting with Handel in the Strand (track 1). Memories of George Malcolm playing this on the harpsichord are not erased but Martin Jones offers idiomatic and dextrous performances of the well-known and lesser-known works alike. Getting your fingers around the notes in a piece like the Stanford March-jig (track 9) is only half the story; the other half, which Jones contrives beautifully, is summoning an image of Grainger himself dancing to it around Delius’s garden.
On the following track we’re on Irish territory again in very different mood for the Tune from County Derry (alias Danny Boy). Does Jones milk the sentiment here slightly too much in the manner of those Irish tenors such as Josef Locke whom my father and grandfather worshipped? I think so, but perhaps my great-grandfather’s Irish blood was simply running a little too thin by the time it reached my generation. In any case, Marc-André Hamelin on Hyperion is faster and less sentimental here (see below). John Pickard’s observation in the booklet that ‘Grainger’s music shares with Bach’s the fact that, no matter how slowly one plays it, it always sounds satisfying’ looks as if it might have been written in defence of Jones’s tempo for this piece.
On track 11 Grainger and Jones take on the opening of Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto single-handed, and do so surprisingly effectively. No question of too slow a tempo here.
Only if you are likely to be put off by the recording should you need to look elsewhere. If you do, you are likely to find a 1996 recording by Marc-André Hamelin on Hyperion your best choice – a very similar selection to that on Nimbus, on CDA66884 (CD or download in mp3 or lossless). If anything, Hamelin is even more fleet-fingered than Jones, but there’s not much to choose between them. If it’s the orchestral arrangements that you’re looking for, look no further than the inexpensive Introduction to Percy Grainger (Chandos CHAN2029: Bargain of the Month – see review), a sampler for their excellent complete series (see review), or another budget-price Chandos selection (CHAN6542, Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra/Kenneth Montgomery).
With first-class performances and excellent notes there’s a lot to be said in favour of this single-CD selection. Don’t blame me if it leads you to purchase the complete box, or if the Chandos sampler tempts you to buy some of the recordings in that series."
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Friedrich Ernst Fesca: Complete String Quartets, Vol. 1
F. E. FESCA String Quartets: No. 1 in E?, op. 1/1; No. 2 in F?, op. 1/2; No. 3 in B?, op. 1/3; No. 7 in a, op. 3/1; No. 8 in D, op. 3/2; No. 9 in E?, op. 3/3; No. 13 in d, op. 12; No, 15 in D, op. 34. Potpourri No. 2 B? for String Quartet, op. 11 • Diogenes Qrt • CPO 777482 (3 CDs: 207:02)
Reviewing a release (CPO 999869) of two symphonies by Friedrich Ernst Fesca in Fanfare 31:6, Patrick Rucker described him as a “symphonist,” and came to the conclusion that “though it’s doubtful that anyone would argue for an elevation of Fesca’s status above that of a Kleinemeister , this is music of considerable skill and charm.” I think something important wasn’t stated, there—namely, that Fesca wasn’t a symphonist. He was a concertmaster and first violinist by profession in court orchestras and chapels, but his compositional métier was chamber music, and especially the string quartet. As compared to the three symphonies he wrote very early in a highly successful career cut short by tuberculosis, he composed a total of 16 string quartets, not to mention four string quintets, four flute quartets, and a Flute Quintet.
And it was as a composer of string quartets that Carl Maria von Weber praised him in a published article in 1818. He notes that Fesca’s models were Mozart and Haydn, that he is “careful and richly spices” his harmonies, and “often modulates sharply, and swiftly, almost like Beethoven,” which is both shrewd and wide of the mark: both Beethoven and Fesca learned this from Haydn, and beyond Haydn, likely back to the more exploratory quartets of Gossec. Unlike Beethoven, he “feels too soft to … suddenly seize us with a bold, gigantic fist,” but “a certain intelligent deliberation marks his works, and is coupled with depth of feeling, avoids dryness, and brings about an uncommonly fine bearing in the character both of the whole and of the individual parts. He develops his ideas clearly and manifoldly, the four voices are independent.…” Weber notes a tendency towards what we term the quatuor brilliant , with a flashy first violin part, but that the other instruments aren’t demoted to secondary roles.
This first volume in a projected series of Fesca’s string quartets in general confirms Weber’s comments. I find little mature Mozart in the mix. On the other hand, Haydn appears less in the shape of harmonies and themes than in distant modulations, a tendency towards regular motivic transformation, and subtle elements held in common among all four movements of each work. Fesca also has the interesting trick (for lack of a better term) of crafting beautiful galant themes that he tags, either midway or at their conclusion, with short motifs. These latter can be varied and developed at will, as well as making a perfect way to bridge back to the themes, themselves, usually with several transformed elements.
Even the earliest works, believed to date from before or around his 20th year, demonstrate a mastery at handling what were by then the quartet’s movement structures that would remain in place for over a century. There is also at times a sense of playfulness at work—figures reversed, details that suddenly loom out of proportion, bridges that don’t end up where they traditionally should, thematic content from one movement inserted slyly into the accompaniment of another, etc.—though it almost never takes the form of Haydn’s famous false endings. Weber’s comment about four independent voices is only accurate in a limited sense. True, Fesca is willing to give the lead voice at any time to any of his instruments, but his greatest fault (at least, to modern ears) is a willingness at times to fall back on a lead with simple, repetitive bass accompaniment. That, too, was very characteristic of French quartets from the mid-18th through early 19th centuries.
What Weber in turn considers with typically Romantic regard for the individual as personally expressive reticence was probably just a pragmatic matter of writing for the largest audience without compromising standards; for make no mistake, Fesca was extremely popular during his lifetime. (His quartets continued to go through multiple editions after his death and through to the mid-century.) The one stylistic kicker in this three-disc set is the String Quartet No. 13 of 1819. It stands out from the rest both for its concentration on motivic transformation, even in the central movements, and for its tonal instability. Fesca as a rule enjoys exploring distant keys and recasting thematic content with different leads and slightly altered harmonies, but here he deliberately undercuts notions of the tonic not merely in bridges but within the themes themselves, leading to several moments of precarious tonality during the opening movement. Chromatic passages abound. It’s not later Schubert, by any means, but it is a curious sidelight that indicates one direction the composer might have pursued had he lived longer.
The Diogenes Quartet is a new name for me. They are all technically proficient if not expert, but slurs in some faster passagework commendably don’t cause them to take movements marked as presto or vivace any slower. Their tone is commendably lean, and their application of vibrato on held notes, and at cadences, warm. Founded in 1998, they apparently keep to a busy concert and recording schedule. (Their first volume of the Schubert quartets has recently been released on Brilliant Classics.) I’m glad to see that none of this has meant any less attention given to this music, and they perform it with the kind of loving detail one would expect to hear in works by the Bigger Names. They make an eloquent case for this music, and for the volumes that will follow.
FANFARE: Barry Brenesal
The Land Where the Good Songs Go / Cazalet, McNair
POP VOCAL Slyvia McNair; Hal Cazalet; Steven Blier, piano. THE LAND WHERE THE GOOD SONGS GO - THE LYRICS OF P.G. WOODHOUSETracks: Oh, Gee! Oh, Joy!; Tell Me All Your Troubles, Cutie; You'r The Top; Rolled Into One; Sir Galahad; The Land Where The GoodSongs Go; If I Ever Lost You; Go Little Boat; You Can't Make Love By Wireless; Bill; You Never Knew About Me; Shimmy With Me; Non-Stop Dancing; My Castle In The Air; The Enchanted Train; Anything Goes.
GIANT STEPS
The Art of Arthur Grumiaux
THE ART OF ARTHUR GRUMIAUX • Arthur Grumiaux (vn); Frieder Weissmann 1 , Lorin Maazel 2 , Hans Müller-Kray 3 , Bernhard Paumgartner 4 , Carlo Maria Giulini 6 , Ernest Ansermet 8 , Ernest Bour 10 , cond; Riccardo Castagnone 5 , Hans Altmann 7 (pn); Hermann von Beckerath (vc); 9 RAI SO of Turin; 1 Cologne RSO; 2 South German RSO; 3 Mozarteum O; 4 Frankfurt RSO; 6 O de la Suisse Romande; 8 Bavarian RSO 10 • ANDROMEDA 9116, mono (4 CDs: 266:57) Live: Turin, Cologne, Mühlacker, Salzburg, Frankfurt, Munich 1951–62
MOZART 1 Violin Concerto No. 1 2 Violin Concerto No. 3. 3 Violin Concerto No. 4. 4 Violin Concerto No. 5. MENDELSSOHN 6 Violin Concerto in e. SCHUBERT 5 Violin Sonata in A. FRANCK 7 Violin Sonata in A. BRAHMS 8 Violin Concerto. CHAUSSON 1 Poème for Violin and Orchestra. RAVEL 9 Sonata for Violin and Cello. 1 Tzigane. STRAVINSKY 10 Violin Concerto. YSAŸE Sonata for Violin Solo, Ballade in d
Belgian violinist Arthur Grumiaux (1921–1986) was a fixture of the concert and recording scene when I was growing up. His playing was impeccably clean in style, utilizing a very narrow vibrato that gave his tone a lean yet shimmering sound, very little portamento, and enlivening inflections that provided a nice rhythmic “lift” to his performances. As this set clearly shows, his proclivities were, for the most part, towards Classical and Romantic composers, though he did play the Stravinsky and Berg concertos and Ravel sonata. According to Wikipedia, he made roughly 30 albums during his active career, mostly for the Dutch Philips label but also for EMI. He was, it seems, one of those violinists, like Nathan Milstein, who was admired as much if not more by his peers than by the general public, though of course he was always a top draw in concerts.
Since Grumiaux played most of these works so often (particularly the Mozart concertos, which he recorded complete for Philips with Colin Davis in 1961–62), there are several alternate performances of many of these pieces floating around; e.g., the Mozart No. 1 with Paumgartner and Nos. 3 and 4 with Moralt (the Concerto No. 5 with Paumgartner is on this set), the Mendelssohn Concerto with a very young Haitink, the Brahms with van Beinum, etc. The cover of this set announces that these live performances are all newly remastered in 24-bit/96 kHz sound.
I was particularly fascinated by his interpretation of the Schubert sonata: crisp, direct, and completely lacking in sentimentality, much like Toscanini’s performances of the Schubert symphonies. This is a performance that will thrill musically scrupulous listeners but not at all those who insist that their Schubert be full of Viennese schmaltz. Grumiaux’s version of the Mendelssohn Concerto is quite excellent as well, with surprisingly brisk conducting by Giulini; nothing is rushed, all the notes “sound” with perfect equipoise, yet there is tremendous élan in this reading (and sensitivity, too, relaxing the tempo here and there and playing an absolutely ethereal first-movement cadenza). Because he was Belgian, Grumiaux was sometimes compared to his great predecessor Ysaÿe, but to my ears his sweet, lean tone had much more in common with Sarasate than with Ysaÿe’s somewhat darker sound. As a matter of fact, I felt that Grumiaux’s lean sonority and objectivist approach didn’t work for me in the Franck Sonata or Brahms Concerto, the only performances on the set that I found too uninvolved. I was, however, fascinated by the way he played Ravel, which (as it turns out) was much like his Stravinsky: lean, angular contours, no sentimentality at all, and a way of bringing out the structure without unduly overstressing it. Indeed, the entire last CD was a gem from start to finish.
Your proclivity to acquire this set will probably have as much to do with your desire to own every note Grumiaux ever recorded if you already have most of the studio versions, especially since we are dealing here with monophonic radio sound of varying quality (rather dry in the Turin broadcasts, somewhat roomier and warmer in the German airchecks), particularly since this set is selling for the somewhat hefty price of $52 on Amazon. However, I can attest that Andromeda did a whale of a job cleaning up the sound so that everything sounds clear without the least bit of distortion, particularly in the sound of the string sections of each orchestra, and there is no question that Grumiaux is interesting to hear from start to finish.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Weinberg: String Quartets, Vol. 2 / Arcadia Quartet
For this the second volume in their series of Weinberg’s string quartets, the Arcadia Quartet again presents three quartets from contrasting periods in the stylistic development of the composer. The first quartet of the self-taught teenager, written in 1937, in what Weinberg later described as his ‘neo-impressionist’ style, was heavily revised later in his life, and eventually re-published as Op. 141, in 1985. (It is this revised version that has been recorded here, the original version surviving only in manuscript form, in places virtually illegible.) The seventh quartet dates from 1957, after a gap of twenty turbulent years that had witnessed the emigration of Weinberg from Poland to Russia, his introduction to Shostakovich, and his experience of censorship and imprisonment in 1953. In contrast to his earlier quartets, the mood is more intimate and withdrawn, yet defiant.
The eleventh quartet was composed between 13 October 1965 and 25 December 1966, at a time when Weinberg was mulling over the composition of his first opera, The Passenger. It is dedicated to his first daughter, Victoria, and was premièred by the Borodin Quartet on 13 April 1967 in the Chamber Hall of the Moscow Conservatoire.
REVIEW:
That the emotional contours of Weinberg's works resemble those of his fellow countryman and contemporary Shostakovich's should be no surprise, as the two composers had many of the same experiences, The genuinely tragic first movement and the beginning of the finale of his String Quartet No. 7 match the intensity of any of Shostakovich's middle-period works, and the finale embodies a kind of grim defiance. The String Quartet No. 11 has a broader language that, as with Shostakovich, leaves room for sardonic undercurrents. However, Weinberg is no Shostakovich clone, for he takes routes to the ultimate ends that are different from those Shostakovich employed. The Arcadia Quartet's performances have the feel of a mission accomplished, and the group puts across the emotional content of these works in full spectrum. One awaits further releases in the series, but interested listeners might do well to start with this one. Chandos' Potton Hall sound is superb.
-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)
Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances / Petrenko, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic
I’ve long thought that Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances ranks among his finest works but this new recording really made me sit up and take fresh notice. For that Petrenko and his orchestra must take a huge amount of credit. However, the quality of the recording itself also has much to do with it. I can only describe the sound on this CD as stunning. By chance, immediately before I put this new Avie disc in my player I’d been listening to Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 1983 Decca recording of Symphonic Dances and The Isle of the Dead. Those are extremely fine performances, splendidly recorded by Decca in the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. On that disc the sound is warm, yet very clear and there’s a good deal of space round the orchestra – I strongly suspect the orchestra was set out on the auditorium floor in the empty Concertgebouw. This Avie recording offers a very different experience for the sound is closer – though not oppressively so – and very present.
Producer John Fraser and Engineer David A. Pigott have produced here one of the best recordings of a symphony orchestra that I’ve heard in a very long time. The orchestra is, as I said, very present yet very natural also. The recording offers a wide side-to-side perspective and also very good front-to-back definition. There’s an abundance of detail to hear – the percussion thrillingly reported and the brass impressive without ever sounding domineering – yet without any sense of artificial spotlighting of sections or individual instruments. With a satisfyingly rich bass foundation and an impressive dynamic range this recording presents the orchestra in a most exciting and very musical way. The sound has terrific definition, not least in the quiet passages, and packs a real punch at climaxes. Best of all, the recording lets you hear just how impressive the performances are. For the orchestra there are few hiding places in Symphonic Dances, especially when the sound is as clear and detailed as this, but the RLPO are consistently sure-footed.
The quality of the recording and Petrenko’s care over balance got my attention from the first bars of Symphonic Dances. The very opening is light, crisp and delicate after which the bold string chords have a most impressive weight. Petrenko drives the music forward with vigour but never overplays his hand. The saxophone solo (from 3:26) is lovingly phrased, imparting just the right feeling of wistful nostalgia. In the succeeding passage (to 5:46) there’s some excellent woodwind playing – and not for the last time on this disc, either. When the strings take up the melody it sings gloriously – and between them Petrenko and the engineers balance the accompaniment of harp and piano perfectly. The eventual return to the movement’s opening material is at first suspenseful and then very exciting. Rachmaninov’s self-quotation from his First Symphony is warmly delivered but without any over-indulgence.
If I have a small criticism it concerns the brevity of the gaps between the movements. There’s a mere two seconds between the first and second dances – the Ashkenazy disc has some six seconds – and only three seconds between the second and third movements. Just a little more time would have been welcome. The second movement is a spectral, awkward waltz: in the memorable phrase of annotator Anthony Bateman “Evening has brought its ghosts”. Petrenko shapes the music with great imagination, conjuring up for this listener at least an image of a dimly lit and faded ballroom that has rather gone to seed. The RLPO strings play splendidly, with plenty of body to their tone – and their woodwind colleagues offer equally fine playing. Petrenko is alive to all the nuances and subtle inflections of Rachmaninov’s music. His is a colourful and well-imagined reading and he draws really responsive playing from his orchestra. Among many details that I relished is the nutty tone of the violas between 7:05 and 7:23 followed by the sound of really hushed violins and a doleful bassoon.
Once Petrenko reaches the main material of the third dance his reading has abundant energy but, rightly, there’s more than a sense of foreboding as well. As a sample of the impressive way in which soft passages are handled, sample the rather sinister passage introduced by the bass clarinet (5:04). Shortly afterwards (6:60 – 9:55) the long, brooding string paragraph, in which the RLPO players excel, is surely Rachmaninov revisiting his Second Symphony but with a melancholy air, knowing that those days are gone for ever. In the last five or six minutes Petrenko urges his players on to an exciting yet darkly-tinged conclusion. In these pages the tambourine, tam-tam and xylophone contributions are magnificently caught by the microphones and the dramatic last few bars bring a superb performance of the work to a tumultuous conclusion.
Recently, I was greatly taken with a live performance of The Isle of the Dead conducted by Evgeny Svetlanov (see review). I found that reading enthralling but its very expansiveness probably courts controversy and will not be to all tastes. Petrenko’s reading is more mainstream, if I may put it that way, in terms of pacing. His account, at 20:58. lasts for almost the same time as Ashkenazy’s (20:52) and is similar in length to several other recordings on my shelves. Mind you, it is salutary to note that the composer’s own 1929 recording with the Philadelphia Orchestra lasts a “mere” 18:05 and even after eighty years that recording still sounds well – and packs a real interpretative punch!
Petrenko isn’t in the Svetlanov league when it comes to expansiveness but his interpretation is still full of brooding power – and his performance affords better playing than we hear on the Svetlanov disc and, as you’d expect, comes in much better sound. This Liverpool account establishes a very potent atmosphere right from the outset. There’s dark grandeur in the playing – and in Petrenko’s conception of the work. As in Symphonic Dances the excellence of the sound supports Petrenko’s balancing of the orchestra magnificently. Between 7:22 and 7:44, for example, the balance between the cello tune and the woodwind decoration round it is outstandingly successful. Later on (8:04 – 9:40) the ear is impressed mightily by sonorous brass, pounding timpani and weighty strings.
Petrenko builds the piece to an impressive and potent central climax, thrillingly reported by the recording, but the way he winds the tension down in the following bars is just as noteworthy. Later on, he invests the urgent, surging string passage (11:23 - 12:59) with real ardour and the main climax of the piece (around 15:30) is shattering in its intensity. As Charon, the boatman, rows back across the Styx from the Isle, his work done for now, the opening music returns and Petrenko controls the sombre conclusion very effectively.
In a way I wish the disc had ended there; the piece that’s placed last would have been a more satisfying opener, I believe. The Rock is a youthful work but a significant achievement nonetheless by the twenty-year-old composer. Apparently Tchaikovsky admired the piece and it’s not hard to see why for the scoring is attractive and the invention is strong. For much of its course the nature of the music is much lighter than that of the other two works on the disc. Petrenko conducts with grace and affection but also does the powerful stretches towards the end very well. In the first few minutes the principal flute, Cormac Henry, has a lot of demanding solo work and he shines under the spotlight that Rachmaninov trains on him. Another example of finesse that caught my ear was the exquisite passage of string tremolandi between 7:04 and 7:39 – it’s details such as this that puts the stamp of distinction on this release. As a piece The Rock may not be the equal of the other works on this disc but it has many attractions and it receives a very fine performance here.
As I hope I’ve conveyed, this is an exceptional disc in every way. It’s one that I’ve enjoyed enormously but I also admire it greatly as an achievement both on the part of the musicians and of the engineers. If you’ve wondered why so much fuss is being made about the work that Vasily Petrenko is doing with the RLPO then this superb CD should provide the answer. Already, in early February, this disc is on my shortlist of Recordings of the Year.
One final thought. Could Avie be persuaded to record this team in Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony? If Petrenko and the RLPO could recapture in a recording of that great, sweeping symphony the form shown on this disc then the result would be a serious challenge to the longstanding hegemony of André Previn’s 1973 recording with the LSO (EMI). Meanwhile, don’t wait to see if that disc appears. Buy this one – now! I doubt you’ll regret it and I hope it will excite you as much as it has excited me.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer & the Recorder in the Low Countries / Bosgraaf, Corti
Sybrandus van Noordt and Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer are the only native Dutch composers represented on Erik Bosgraaf’s latest album, but his selection nonetheless illustrates both the high quality of musical culture in a nation without aristocratic courts, and also the central place of the recorder within that culture. Andreas Parcham, Johann Christian Schickhardt and Jean-Marie Leclair are known to have lived and worked in the Republic; Jean-Baptiste Loeillet was born in Ghent and worked in Lyon, but his recorder sonatas were all published in Amsterdam. History has been a little unkind to Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer, remembering him latterly above all as the composer of the attractive Concerti Armonici which were previously attributed to Pergolesi. That such a confusion could have arisen in the first place is testament to the originality and craftsmanship of a musician-composer who was evidently in touch with the latest Italian developments in Italian style from his home in The Hague.
The three sonatas on this album expand our understanding of van Wassanaer, and they are complemented by little-known composers with a similarly internationalist outlook such as the Danzig-born Andreas Parcham and the well-travelled Jean-Marie Leclair. The four-movement suite of lively character pieces by Fiocco is extracted from a collection originally written for harpsichord, and opens with an Allegro made famous through a violin-and-piano arrangement recorded by the likes of Menuhin and Perlman; Bosgraaf restores its original character. In the second half of the 17th century, the recorder underwent a revolutionary development which turned it into a sophisticated instrument. Erik Bosgraaf plays seven different instruments here, ranging from sopranino to bass, all of them built with a particular range of pitch but also distinct palette of timbres.
REVIEWS:
Bosgraaf is a virtuosic player, whose performances are always energetic. Sometimes he tends to go overboard, for instance in his choice of tempi and the addition of ornamentation. Here he behaves almost impeccably. Some movements in Schickhardt's sonata are played very fast, but that seems justified. Bosgraaf makes a nice difference between the two ensuing allegros in the middle of this sonata. There is just one issue: in the opening movement of Van Noordt's sonata it was decided to add some chirping. I don't like this kind of gimmick, and the music doesn't need it. In a time when the use of a string bass seems the rule, and the participation of a plucked instrument almost inevitable, it is nice that the performers have confined themselves to the harpsichord for the basso continuo. The two artists often collaborate, and Corti is again an excellent partner, who also delivers a fine performance of the pieces by Fiocco.
In short, this is a delightful disc which will appeal not only to recorder aficionados.
-- Musica Dei Donum
Most of us haven’t heard of Unico Wilhelm van Wassenaer (1692-1766), but that’s who wrote more of the music on this program than anyone else. Some of his contemporaries—Fiocco, Leclair, Loeillet, Van Noordt, Parcham, and Schickhardt—will be more or even less familiar. They were all in some way related to the Dutch Republic. 7 members of the recorder family are used with a modern copy of a 1732 harpsichord tuned at A=392, generally considered the French standard. Erik Bosgraaf sings, whatever the size and pitch of the instrument he’s playing. Francesco Corti employs the buff stop now and then but accompanies ably all the way through. He gets the Fiocco to himself: four movements that conclude the First Suite of Harpsichord Pieces, Op. 1. Balance between the two players and through the range of the harpsichord is excellent. Ornamentation keeps things lively, so your attention never flags. Since there are 38 tracks, all of them are relatively short, making for plenty of variety. They may go by even faster than you wish, because everything is worth hearing again! Music like this—often with a strong influence of Italians like Vivaldi—is how 18th Century Dutch passed the time when they had leisure, and when you have leisure you’ll enjoy it too. Also consider hearing from Jeremias Schwarzer and Ralf Waldner on Genuin 19646 (S/O 2019, p 177). A 28-page booklet gives notes by musicologist Thiemo Wind in English and German along with many illustrations. This recording was made in a church apparently next to a field with cows, so the range of pictures extends from the sacred to the profane or mundane, but that’s the only mundane thing about this collection!
-- American Record Guide
DON'T PLAY THAT SONG (MONO)
PEANUTS GREATEST HITS
PEANUTS GREATEST HITS
The Handel Collection / Christophers, The Sixteen
Reviews of some of the original recordings that make up this set:
Coronation Anthems
By any standards this is a major release. Even in a year which is seeing, predictably, a glut of Handel releases, many of them extremely fine, this stands out. Harry Christophers and The Sixteen have enjoyed tremendous success at home and abroad with performances that have caught the imagination of a public outside (as well as inside) the traditional concert hall (and, to add a quick plug, they will be the subject of next month’s cover story). And here, perhaps more than in any other of their excellent recent issues, they show just why.
This is an opulently sung and played Handel disc but also a cunning one. Christophers has thought deeply about how to pace these works, how to marshall his resources for maximum but never superficial effect. The opening of Zadok the Priest, for instance, so familiar to us all, is here subdued, hushed and steady. When the melody opens out, The Sixteen add power and sheen, giving a sudden surge. It reminds one of the historian Charles Burney's observation of Handel (quoted by Christophers) that "when he did smile, it was his sire the sun, bursting out of a black cloud".
A tremendous issue. One to keep on the shelves and return to frequently.
-- Gramophone [4/2009]
A good modern recording of Samson is overdue. It is extraordinary that this fine work, composed within weeks of Messiah, and in Handel’s day possibly the most popular of all his oratorios, should be represented on the Gramophone Database only by one version recorded nearly 20 years ago and the unidiomatic and heavily cut Harnoncourt recording made in 1992. The new one does not obliterate memories of the old, which captures performances by a generation of British Handel interpreters at their finest (Dame Janet Baker, Helen Watts, Robert Tear, Benjamin Luxon and John Shirley-Quirk, as well as several admirable younger singers). But the new version gives a complete and straightforward account of the work, in tune with styles of Handel performance favoured today. Except in one particular: most conductors of period-instrument groups tend to favour faster tempos than those Harry Christophers generally chooses. This is a decidedly leisurely reading of the work; clearly Christophers has a sense of its magnitude, of the big issues with which it is involved and the nobility of its utterance, and he will not let himself be hurried. I think there are times, especially in the final act, where quicker tempos would have been helpful towards the maintenance of the oratorio’s momentum. Similarly, I wish that he had moved a shade more swiftly during the recitatives, and – or this may be the editors – from one number to the next, simply to sustain the dramatic impetus more strongly. I suspect, however, that Christophers is probably less concerned with the drama of the work than with its religious and philosophical aspects, and of course with presenting a direct and faithful realization of it: a perfectly legitimate approach and one that I am sure many will applaud.
He has an excellent cast. Thomas Randle is well equipped for Samson, a firm, strong tenor, with a hint of baritonal quality in his middle and lower registers. There is no bombast here. “Total eclipse” has much of pathos but no heroics. “Why does the God of Israel sleep” is done with some power, and the renunciation of Dalila (“Your charms to ruin”) is weightily sung; and there is plenty of fire in his rejection of the Philistine braggart Harapha but never at the cost of musical singing. It is not strongly characterized: an estimable performance but one that does not quite catch you by the throat. Samson’s father Manoah is sung with characteristic warmth and depth of tone and feeling by Michael George: listen for example to his “Thy glorious deeds” in Act 1. His bass contrasts aptly with the tauter, more focused one of Jonathan Best’s Harapha. Mark Padmore contributes some well-placed singing as both the Israelite and the Philistine man. Lynne Dawson does the same as the woman from both camps (and also the Virgin, echoing Dalila in one appealing number); she contributes a vigorous “Let the bright seraphim” (which here has a brief choral section at the end, surviving in Handel’s manuscript but probably never heard before). I enjoyed Lynda Russell’s soft, seductive Dalila, a modest role, confined to Act 2; but perhaps above all Catherine Wyn-Rogers excels as Micah, with beautifully intense singing and concentrated tone in all her music – her phrasing in “Then long eternity” and the heartfelt expression in “Return O God of hosts”, for example, are quite outstanding. Stylistically the performance is cautious, with only modest added ornamentation and brief cadenzas, but of course the requisite appoggiaturas in the recitative: if an error, it’s certainly in the right direction.
The Sixteen provide clear and spirited choral singing throughout, suitably jolly in the Philistine music, duly noble in that for the Hebrews. I was struck by the unusual clarity of texture in the choruses, attributable both to Christophers’s direction and insistence on firm tone and incisive articulation and to the work of the engineers. Altogether a welcome issue.'
-- Stanley Sadie, Gramophone [8/1997]
Esther
"There can be little question that the true heroes of the present recording are Christophers, who conducts the work with a fervent conviction that makes the excellent Hogwood look at times a little prosaic, and his quite magnificent chorus, who sing throughout with an incisive precision, superb articulation, and clarity of diction that is often electrifying. Michael Chance sings a wonderful Priest (his intensely moving “O Jordan, Jordan” is one of the highlights of the set) that eclipses that of Drew Minter, and Nancy Argenta provides a poignant reminder of the singer she was with a radiantly joyful “Praise the Lord.” Haman, the one character of real interest (there are surely pre-echoes of Saul in his downfall), is powerfully sung by Michael George...this is a quite splendid performance of a work more often mentioned by historians than heard, a fate it certainly does not deserve."
-- Brian Robins, Fanfare
Delirio Amoroso
"Like most Coro releases to date, this is a reissue of a disc originally put out by the now-defunct Collins Classics label. The present disc dispenses with services of The Sixteen to feature three of the Italian cantatas composed during Handel’s prodigious Italian sojourn (1706–1710), all of those here dating from the first half of 1707. The most conventional in form is Clori, mia bella, a pastoral in which—over the course of four brief da capo arias alternating with secco recitative—a young man experiences the varying emotions attached to the uncertainties of love. The spirit of the piece is none too serious, Handel’s music utterly delicious. Both the other cantatas are more ambitiously planned, providing ample evidence of the young composer’s often-innovative approach to the form. Armida abbandonata, scored for just two violins and continuo, but here done with a fuller body of strings, has as its subject the abandonment of the sorceress Armida by the Christian knight Rinaldo as related in Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata, a topic to which Handel was to return in his first London opera, Rinaldo. It opens with a remarkable accompanied recitative in which the singer is accompanied by two violins senza basso, then proceeds to a heartbroken aria of ravishing beauty, and a highly dramatic accompanied dramatic recitative in which the scorned Armida gives vent to her conflicting emotions.
The semidramatic Delirio amoroso is designed on an even grander scale, the vocal writing being more virtuosic, with each of its arias having an obbligato part. The text by Handel’s Roman patron Cardinal Benedetto Pamphili also taps into the fashionable Arcadian theme. In her delirium, the scorned and distraught Chloris follows her unfaithful dead lover to Hades, only to be rejected once more. Out of compassionate love, she leads him to Elysium, where a beautiful Entrée prefigures the idea of Gluck’s blessed spirits.
The much admired, indeed much loved, Irish mezzo Ann Murray makes no pretence of being an early-music singer, but she brings considerable style to these splendid examples of Handel’s burgeoning flair and invention. The voice itself sounds lovely, and it is produced with an enviable ease, floating and phrasing Handel’s wonderful melodies with real musicality. Equally as important are Murray’s strong powers of communication and feeling for text."
-- Brian Robins, Fanfare
Heroes and Heroines / Sarah Connolly
"And the mezzo lode continues to run as rich and high-quality as ever, supplying the world with yet another first-rate singer. Of course, Sarah Connolly hasn't exactly come out of nowhere: she's been a member of The Sixteen Choir and has made acclaimed appearances for the past several years in opera roles and concerts throughout the U.S. and Europe. This collaboration with her former Sixteen conductor, Harry Christophers, reveals the impressive maturity and technique of Connolly along with Christophers' solid command of Handelian drama. The repertoire may not be the most common collection of arias (only one is very familiar), but the selection is no less engaging for that; the idea of this recital was to "depict not only the close links between opera and oratorio in Handel's works but also equate the position of hero and heroine." Interesting programming concept aside, what you hear is top-notch Handel singing in some very characterful and artistically challenging pieces.>
From Connolly's first notes, "Sta nell' Ircana" from Alcina, we have no doubt about this voice's considerable dramatic capabilities, and we can't help but be impressed with both her range (free of discernible register breaks) and ease of delivery from top to bottom. By the aria's end she's confirmed the power of her lowest register notes and ability to fully embody and project her character. I'm not wild about her "ha-ha-ha-ha-ha" articulation in one of the aria's repeated figures, but since she doesn't exhibit this annoying mannerism anywhere else, I assume it's an intended "effect" (imitating the orchestral figures, perhaps?) and only mention it because it's so striking and uncharacteristic of her singing in general.
Connolly is just as convincing and her voice is as lovely in the slower arias, including "Mi lusingha il dolce affetto" from Alcina (all seven minutes of it!). Her breath control is amazing and she completely enthralls with her attractive, sensible ornaments. And she's lucky to have such a partner in Christophers and his attentive orchestra: listen as he takes Connolly's lead from the intro to Ariodante's tender "Scherza infida" and hands her a perfectly set atmosphere of sorrow and tragic determination. This is the highlight of the CD, Connolly's subtle vocal shading, expressive phrasing, and vibrant tone varying from gently floating to more emphatically projected--the definition of captivating.
Other listeners may cite the following "Dopo notte", a brisk, high-energy aria from the same opera, as the most impressive of Connolly's performances, and it would be hard to argue in light of the singer's command of the reams of rapid runs and wildly leaping lines while maintaining the flow and emotional intensity of this fiendishly difficult seven minutes of music. And then there's the beloved and oft-performed "Verdi prati", which Connolly renders as sensitively and with as sumptuous a tone and smoothly-spun legato as we could hope for. The final "Where shall I fly?" from Hercules is a magnificent display of virtuoso vocalism, although I still prefer Stephanie Blythe's more fluid, richer-voiced rendition--purely a matter of personal taste. And again, much credit must go to Christophers' smart orchestral leadership and to the crisply pointed accents, finely honed rhythms, and warm sound of the Symphony of Harmony and Invention, recorded to the highest modern standard."
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com [10/11/2004]
LIVE AT ART D'LUGOFF'S TOP OF THE GATE VOL. 2
ONE GRASS SKIRT TO LONDON
Scattered Ashes: Josquin's Miserere and the Savonarolan Legacy / Cave, Magnificat

The disc’s title refers to the fate of the outspoken and for a time widely popular 15th-century friar Girolamo Savonarola, executed in Florence in 1498 following his continued calls for church reforms, his criticism of papal corruption, and finally his direct defiance of papal orders. Awaiting execution, he composed a meditation on Psalm 50, Miserere mei, Deus, and another on Psalm 30, In te, Domine, speravi, texts that were secreted out of the prison and eventually disseminated throughout Europe. During the next century composers latched on to these writings and many of the works on this program include settings of Savonarola’s meditation texts.
A notable feature of these works is their length: the shortest is nearly six minutes; the longest more than 17. Most fall in the nine to ten-minute range. Whatever the timing, writing polyphonic works of this scope, not only sustaining momentum over long-breathed phrase after long-breathed phrase–indeed, full cadences are few and far between!–and keeping the music interesting while articulating the texts within the greater musical framework takes more than ordinary skill.
The mastery on display here, by composers such as Josquin, Palestrina, Gombert, and Byrd, expertly supported by the talented and distinguished voices of Magnificat (long-time choral fans will notice a few familiar names in the 16-voice ensemble), is clear from the beginning of Josquin’s Miserere mei, and certainly needs no defense nor explanation to serious choral music listeners. Conductor Philip Cave, in his excellent perfomance note, describes these works as “extraordinarily intense”, and as you listen you won’t disagree with him.
Although Cave also claims Josquin’s Miserere, which opens Disc 1, as the “heart of the program”, I suggest skipping to Disc 2 and going right for Jean Lhéritier’s Miserere mei, Domine. To hear this exquisite, lesser-known work first, without distraction or the influence of previous listening, is worth upsetting Cave’s undoubtedly well-thought-out program order. Every time I hear a piece by Lhéritier (whose name doesn’t even appear in some music dictionaries) I wonder why his motets do not have wider advocacy by world-class choirs. (Notably, most of the performing editions used here, including the Lhéritier piece, are the work of musicologist, veteran professional choral musician, and member of Magnificat, Sally Dunkley, who has been responsible for bringing many works from manuscript obscurity to the concert hall and recordings.)
Lhéritier, who, according to Patrick Macey, the writer of the disc’s first-rate liner notes, “may have been a student of Josquin in the early 1500s”, and who spent most of his career in Italy, creates works like those of his contemporary Gombert, that draw you in and then surround you in a world of sound that’s at once sensuous and spiritual, that glories in rich harmonies, complexly interweaving melodies, and the timbre of combined voices. Exactly what we should expect from really good choral music sung by world-class singers.
Hearing Josquin’s five-part, 17-minute-plus setting of Psalm 50, it’s easy to understand Cave’s choice of this piece as an anchor and inspiration for the selection of other works on the program. It’s also easy to hear how the kind of musical standard Josquin set–in his particular attention to text, its clarity, and its specific musical treatment; to the organization of musical structure both in use of voices and in the larger context of contrapuntal and alternating homophonic sections–would demand much from his contemporaries and followers.
That they succeeded–at least those featured on this recording–is quite clear, and the tribute to the music’s excellence is confirmed in these performances, so sensitively phrased and caringly inflected, carried by an exceptionally well-balanced ensemble of compatible voices. Highly recommended.
- ClassicsToday
LEGENDARY 1944-45 CRESCENT RECORDS
LIVE AT PIT-INN TOKYO JAPAN 8 8 1988
Schoenberg: Gurre-Lieder / Albrecht, Netherlands Philharmonic
Begun in the year 1900, amidst the art nouveau curlicues of Klmt and the Jugendstil, Schoberg's grand cantata is written in a lush, late-romantic style indebted to Wagner and Mahler and pre-dating his pioneering atonal works. This setting of the medieval Danish legend of Gurre Castle - a love triangle between King Waldemar, his mistress Tove and a jealous Queen - gains an innovative new dimension in this first-ever staging of the work, directed by Pierre Audi. This album marks the first ever collaboration between DNO Artistic Director Pierre Audi and Music Director Marc Albrecht. This production was the first staging of Schonberg's mammoth cantata with gargantuan orchestra, five soloists, speaker and multiple choruses.
REVIEW:
This release captures the very first attempt to stage the piece; it makes for fascinating viewing. The Dutch National Opera's artistic director wisely chooses to keep his narrative loose and subjective, emphasizing the piece's affinity to Wagner's Tristan as to Parsifal.
The individual songs of Waldemat and Tove in the first part are straightforwardly done, but the two are seen addressing one another in a languorous, long-paragraphed dialog rather than expressing themselves in isolation. Once Tove disappears, we are more than ever aware of the whole piece as Waldemar's own journey - dreamlike, psychologically complex, and ambiguous, up to and including the final chorus, which is all the more moving for the allegorical richness it takes on.
Burkhard Fritz carries the dramatic weight admirably, and Emily Magee is a moving, entranced, and enchanting Tove. Anna Larsson is a sternly impassioned Waldtaube here, and the character's long scene is a highlight of the staging. The detailed, virtuoso playing of the orchestra and Albrecht's clear-sighted but impassioned conducting need far no comparison with the best audio-only versions. A very impressive achievement all round.
– Gramophone
Vivaldi - The French Connection 2 / Chandler, La Serenissima
VIVALDI “Paris” Concertos: No. 2 in e, RV 133; No. 8 in d, RV 127; No. 11 in G, RV 150. Concerto in F for Violin and Oboe, RV 543. Flute Concertos: in a, RV 440; in d, RV 431a, “Il Gran Mogol.” Concerto for Flute, 2 Violins, and Bassoon, RV 104, “La note.” Bassoon Concerto in C, RV 473. Violin Concerto in B?, RV 365 • Adrian Chandler (vn, cond); Katy Bircher (fl); Gail Hennessy (ob); Peter Whelan (bn); La Serenissima (period instruments) • AVIE 2218 (79:03)
Titled The French Connection 2 , this is La Serenissima’s second collection devoted to concertos by Vivaldi composed for a French nobleman, or with stylistic elements typical of French music from that period. (RV 431a was written on French paper!) If you’re having déjà vu all over again, it’s because I reviewed the first collection (Avie 2178) almost exactly two years ago in Fanfare 33:2. As I remarked last time, France had a strong appetite for the music of Vivaldi and his fellow Italians during the 1720s and ’30s, and so it is not surprising that Vivaldi, on occasion, “spoke French.” Adrian Chandler’s excellent booklet note discusses this in greater detail than it is possible to do here.
Two CD premieres are claimed here, that of RV 431a and RV 365. The former was discovered in April 2010 in the National Archives of Scotland. Unfortunately, a second violin part was missing, but Andrew Woolley reconstructed it, using RV 431 (a simplified version of RV 431a) as a guide. A “Mogol,” by the way, is a representative of the Mughal Empire, part of the Indian subcontinent during Vivaldi’s lifetime. Some of the music on this CD is unfamiliar, then, and some of it will have the average Baroque enthusiast nodding and saying, “I’ve heard this one before.” All of it is of high quality, and there are, as always, some surprises. Chief among these is RV 473, which concludes with a lengthy Menuet en Rondeau . Longer than the first two movements combined, this movement would unbalance the concerto were it not so enjoyable, and were its increasingly ornate variations not so inventive.
Compared to other period-instrument ensembles, La Serenissima’s performances are well mannered, yet they are lively when they need to be, and gently introspective when they are not. The soloists are members of the ensemble. Last time I singled out bassoonist Peter Whelan, and I am moved to do so again. His joyful and virtuosic quacking in RV 473 is the sound that lingers most tenaciously in my ears after this CD has stopped spinning. Like many English ensembles of this sort, La Serenissima is a touch too proper to do full justice to Vivaldi’s Mediterranean temperament. Its name is an allusion to Venice, I assume, but it also describes its musicianship, for better or worse. (Mostly better.)
FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle
Vivaldi is one of the most frequently-recorded composers these days. If you want to record his music and want to avoid the beaten path, what do you do? The answer from Adrian Chandler and La Serenissima is to look at Vivaldi's music from a thematic angle. The booklet for this CD lists the discs they have made over the years. One of the themes was "Vivaldi in Arcadia", and another "Music for the Chapel of the Pietà". This disc is the second devoted to "The French Connection". This title has to be taken with a grain of salt as there is no formal connection between Vivaldi and France. He was never in the service of a French court and never wrote music at the request of any French aristocrat. Chandler rather wants to shed light on French elements in Vivaldi's music.
Everyone knows how strongly French composers of the early 18th century were under the influence of the Italian style. Music by Italian composers, and in particular by Vivaldi, was frequently performed in France, for instance in the Concert Spirituel. The influence of the French style in Italy is far less known. In his liner-notes Chandler refers to several traces of French influence in Italy, and especially in the oeuvre of Vivaldi. If there is a 'French connection' it could be a collection of concertos for strings and basso continuo which are referred to as the 'Paris' concertos. Chandler suggests that these could have been intended as a presentation set for a French nobleman.
In the booklet the French elements of every piece on the programme are listed. In particular aspects of the French overture style are traceable. The second movement of the Concerto in F (RV 543) is entitled 'allegro alla francese'. The finale of this concerto is a minuet, and the Concerto in C (RV 473) even ends with a 'menuet en rondeau'. That is all very interesting, and Chandler could be right that these are deliberate references to the French style. At the same time it is quite possible that these elements had become so generally accepted that they were not experienced as specifically 'French'. How many music-lovers or even composers of today think of Poland when they hear or play a polonaise? In the early 17th century Italian keyboard composers also wrote pieces 'alla francese'. But scholars can't identify exactly what is so French about them. Sometimes the connection seems rather far-fetched. According to the list the 'French connection' of the Concerto in d minor (RV 431a) is that the manuscript was written on French paper. Well ...
That concerto, with the nickname Il Gran Mogol, is one of the main attractions of this disc. It was only recently discovered in Edinburgh, of all places. Not that it was entirely new. Scholars knew that it had been written, and a reworking is listed as RV 431. This version also allowed the reconstruction of the missing second violin part of the first version, which is catalogued as RV 431a and is recorded here. It was part of a series of concertos devoted to various nationalities. This one referred to the Mughal Empire (India). Other concertos have disappeared. Those with a more than average knowledge of Vivaldi's oeuvre will immediately think of another concerto, this time for violin, with the title 'Il Grosso Mogul'. But that is an entirely different piece and has nothing in common with this flute concerto.
This piece has been recorded for the first time, and that is also the case with the Concerto in B flat (RV 365). It exists in two versions, the first of which is played here. The liner-notes don't say whether this concerto has been recorded before in its second version. The main difference regards the last movement of which there are two; here the oldest is played. Notable in the programme is also the Concerto in F (RV 543): the French elements in the titles of the various movements have already been mentioned. It needs to be added that the two solo instruments largely play unisono, which could be a reference to the French habit of oboes playing colla parte with the violins. It is also remarkable that there is no slow movement: there are three allegros and a closing minuet.
The most virtuosic piece is definitely the Concerto in C (RV 473) with many wide leaps and some very low notes. Vivaldi must have had a particularly skilled soloist in mind. It is remarkable anyway how many bassoon concertos he wrote and they are all quite demanding. Peter Whelan delivers a brilliant performance. The closing 'menuet en rondeau' is especially impressive. It is one of the disc’s highlights. The performances are generally quite good, though I find them at times too restrained. The fast movements come off fairly well, but the slow ones are often too static, especially as long notes are mostly devoid of dynamic shading. Katy Bircher gives a fine performance of one of Vivaldi's most popular pieces, the Concerto La Notte (RV 104). She is equally convincing in the two flute concertos.
On balance, the concept of this disc, the choice of music and the performances make this an interesting contribution to the growing Vivaldi discography.
-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International