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Tubin, Bacewicz, & Lutosławski: Works for Orchestra / Järvi, Estonian Festival Orchestra
Alpha · Jun 2023CD$20.99 -
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Kastalsky: Requiem for Fallen Brothers / Slatkin, Orchestra of St. Luke's
Naxos · Aug 2020CD$19.99 -
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SaleRavel - Five O'Clock Foxtrot and more works for orchestra / Simon, Philharmonia Orchestra
Signum Classics · Oct 2022CD$19.99$9.99 -
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SaleThomas Hampson sings Brahms, Schubert, and Mendelssohn
Haenssler Classic · Apr 2025CD$20.99$15.99 -
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Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 & Francesca Da Rimini / Jarvi, Zurich Tonhalle Orchestra
Alpha · Nov 2020CD$20.99 -
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Blech: Complete Orchestral Works & Songs / Gornik, Ward, Aachen Symphony Orchestra
Capriccio · Aug 2022CD$21.99 -
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Valen: Orchestral Music Vol 2 / Christian Eggen, Stavanger Symphony Orchestra
BIS · Aug 2008CD$21.99 -
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Braunfels: Orchestral Works / Bühl, ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra
Capriccio · May 2021CD$21.99 -
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Tubin, Bacewicz, & Lutosławski: Works for Orchestra / Järvi, Estonian Festival Orchestra
For their fourth recording on Alpha Classics, Paavo Järvi and the Estonian Festival Orchestra - who bring together the best Estonian talent and leading musicians from around the world each year in Pärnu - celebrate composers from Estonia and Poland, two nations closely connected by their history. Eduard Tubin (1905-1982) is a composer whose ten symphonies tower at the top of Estonian orchestral music. The same may be said about his stage works. World War II forced Tubin to emigrate to Sweden in 1944, where he spent the rest of his life. Suite from the ballet Kratt (Goblin) is based on Tubin’s ballet by the same name, which was also the first ballet in Estonian musical history… Musique funèbre by Polish composer Witold Lutoslawski (1913-1994), was composed in memory of Béla Bartók and its premiere commemorated the 10th anniversary of the Hungarian composer’s death. Bartók’s Orchestral Concerto inspired the Concerto for String Orchestra composed in 1948 by Grazyna Bacewicz (1909-1969). Ignored for many years, she is now one of Poland’s most popular female composers.
REVIEWS:
An imaginative program, played with conviction.
Paavo Järvi has long been a champion of the major Estonian composer Eduard Tubin (1905–1982). He gave us the first recording of Tubin’s last symphony, No. 11, and also recorded Symphony No. 5 with the Cincinnati Orchestra as a coupling for the Sibelius Second. More recently, Jarvi and his conductor-brother Kristian established the Estonian Festival, and with the Festival Orchestra Paavo has made exciting recordings of other Estonian composers, as well as Shostakovich.
This program consists of two works by Tubin: the suite from the ballet Kratt (The Goblin) and the Music for Strings (1962), along with the increasingly familiar Concerto for String Orchestra by Polish composer Grażyna Bacewicz, and Witold Lutosławski’s early masterpiece, Musique funèbre, written in memory of Bartók.
Kratt, which has been recorded complete elsewhere, is a vibrant, colourful score with a hint of Petrushka about it. There is not a dull moment in the 25-minute suite Tubin assembled in 1961, nor in his Music for Strings, where Jarvi relishes the mysterious textures of the first movement.
He conducts a full-blooded, vigorous performance of Bacewicz’s piece, especially in the finale where the composer combines neat counterpoint with rhythmic punch. Finally, we get a searing rendition of Musique funèbre, where the parallels to Bartók’s Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta are underlined as a basis for exploration. Sound quality in this imaginative program is excellent.
-- Limelight
Paavo Järvi and the Estonian Festival Orchestra present music by Estonian composer Eduard Tubin (1905–1982), opening the program with a colorful and entertaining suite from the ballet Kratt (Goblin). The suite from the ballet Kratt (1961) is based on Tubin’s ballet of the same name. The idea for this work was born in 1938 after his return from Budapest, where he had presented his compositions to Zoltan Kodaly. Kodaly recommended that he pay greater attention to the use of folk tunes.
Tubin obtained material from the Estonian folklore archive and selected thirty folk songs and instrumental pieces as the basis for the ballet. In Estonian mythology, a kratt (goblin) is created by humans but brought to life by the devil. Influenced by evil forces, the Kratt flies through the air, leaving behind a glowing trail of fire as he accumulates treasures for his master. But in return, the master sells his soul to the devil.
The first performance of Kratt took place in Tallinn on February 24, 1944, on the founding day of the Estonian Republic. The ballet was performed only six times before the National Opera Estonia was destroyed on March 9 in a in a bombing raid by the Russian Soviet Army when Russia annexed Estonia.
The score fell victim to the fire, but the instrumental parts and piano reduction were safe. Tubin took them with him when he fled to Sweden in 1944, and made a new score. In 1961, he was commissioned by the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra to compose the suite from the ballet. Tubin’s music for strings, which is no less tonally appealing, can also be heard, and Paavo Järvi lets it be played expressively.
Musique funèbre by Polish composer Witold Lutoslawski (1913–1994) was composed in memory of Bela Bartok. It is more of an homage than a lament or an elegy, and Järvi is wary of any sentimentality. Very exciting is the neoclassical Concerto for String Orchestra by Polish composer Grazyna Bacewicz, played with bouncy momentum in the outer movements and sublime delicacy in the Andante.
-- Pizzicato
Kastalsky: Requiem for Fallen Brothers / Slatkin, Orchestra of St. Luke's
A 2020 GRAMMY nominee for Best Choral Performance!
Alexander Kastalsky was a student of Tchaikovsky and a mentor to Rachmaninov, becoming director of the Moscow Synodal School until the Bolshevik regime banned all sacred music, including the extraordinary Requiem for Fallen Brothers which consequently lay forgotten for over a century. The Requiem is a rich and varied mosaic that honors those who perished in the First World War, poignantly combining Orthodox and Gregorian chant with hymns from the allied nations, even including Rock of Ages. This unprecedented and peerless monument to those who made the ultimate sacrifice was acclaimed on its 1917 premiere as a ‘uniquely Russian requiem that… gave musical voice to the tears of many nations.’ This is a world premiere recording.
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REVIEW:
One of Russia’s foremost composers of Orthodox church music, Alexander Kastalsky (1856-1926) is remembered for assisting Rachmaninov with his All-Night Vigil. During World War I, Kastalsky composed his Requiem for Fallen Brothers in honour of Russia and her allies: using a full orchestra, and mingling texts and melodies from the Orthodox, Anglican and Catholic Churches, Kastalsky also included textless tributes to the Indian and Japanese forces. Most of the music is clearly steeped in the Orthodox tradition, infused with memories of Mozart’s Requiem, but includes disquieting elements such as the Musorgsky-like funeral bell chord which makes ominous reappearances, like the bell in Britten’s War Requiem. After its 1917 premiere, Kastalsky added a further three movements including one honouring Russia’s new ally, America. The October Revolution precluded their performance, and the work was not heard again until 1977 when Yevgeny Svetlanov conducted the earlier 1917 version, its liturgical texts inevitably replaced with Soviet-style sentiments: this was recorded, but is currently only available as part of an expensive 11-disc Melodiya set.
Leonard Slatkin and his first-rate team of musicians now present the first complete recording. The ‘new’ post-1917 movements include a ‘Beati mortui’ sparkling with sleigh bells and piano figuration; a sombre bass solo ‘Kakaya sladost’, which for a moment enters a hellish region with shadowed smears and slitherings from the orchestra; and the American hymn ‘Rock of Ages’ bizarrely yet touchingly combined with Chopin’s Funeral March. Slatkin, who admits a deep belief in this work, draws a touching performance.
- Daniel Jaffé, Choral & Song
REVIEW:
Alexander Dmitrievich Kastalsky was born in Moscow on 16 November 1856 and died there on 17 December 1926. A student of Taneyev and Tchaikovsky at the Moscow Conservatory, his works stood to one side from the secular musical world. Rachmaninov saw Kastalsky as his teacher and was influenced by the older man whose presence can be sensed in the Vespers and in the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom—also recorded by Charles Bruffy and his Kansas choir. Kastalsky became a leading light in a nineteenth century renaissance of the liturgy of the Russian Orthodox Church. With Smolensky and Grechaninov, Kastalsky was part of fresh passion for Russian devotional music. Tragically for Kastalsky, this was to collide with the Bolshevik ban on sacred music. The extraordinary imaginative strengths of the choral-orchestral Requiem for Fallen Brothers were disregarded. Even so it is reported that the Kastalsky Requiem travelled far and wide. It was, for example, performed in Birmingham by that city’s Festival Choir on 22 November 1917 conducted by Henry Wood, a fervent Russophile.
The towering Requiem lay in oblivion for more than a century despite its fresh and tragic inspiration: it recalled those who perished in the First World War. The score is affluent in ideas, both vocal and orchestral. Across seventeen segments (here separately accessible) the work accommodates a range of well-recognised spiritual references. Without falling into the trap of a variegated collage it finds a place for Orthodox and Gregorian chant and mixes in material from the allied nations. In tr. 14 Kastalsky weaves Chopin’s ‘funeral march’ and the hymn ‘Rock of Ages’ with the same mastery we find in Bridge’s Sir Roger de Coverley and Holst’s Fantasia on The Dargason. The more one experiences this major work, whether through this fine recording under Leonard Slatkin or in the hands of Evgeny Svetlanov, the more one places it alongside other known Great War humanist monuments like Delius’s Requiem and John Foulds’ World Requiem. To this group, can be added John Ireland’s These Things Shall Be and perhaps also a work quite unknown, Julius Harrison’s Great War tribute Requiem of Archangels. Kastalsky’s commitment towards church music spread to a work kindred to the Requiem but this time for unaccompanied choir. It was a short version; only 40 minutes as against the 64 minutes of the present Requiem. This a cappella work came under the title Memory Eternal to the Fallen Heroes.
The Requiem strides forward with slight pauses between sections. In terms of sweep and incident it coheres well. Proceedings begin with seraphic choir and tolling bells, all suggestive of Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov. The Kyrie (2) continues the seraphic treatment but is underpinned with tenderly stabbing strings. The whole rises to a searching intensity that recalls Rachmaninov’s The Bells. As this section closes Kastalsky refers obliquely back to the clangour of the first movement. The dark griping of the brass in the Rex tremendae (4) paves the way for a soprano solo in Ingemisco (4) and for Beethovenian protest and struggle in the Confutatis. Here Kastalsky deploys words from Pushkin’s poem John of Damascus; a text that also drew Taneyev. The Lacrymosa (6) has the two soloists’ voices mingling amid a choral haze. Mixed in we hear tendrils of the Dies Irae. In Domine Jesu (7) the scent of incense is strong against the treble of silvery bells. Beati mortui makes use of the sound of sleigh bells and, not for the first time, fleetingly suggests The Bells—the latter a work dating from four years before Kastalsky started work on the Requiem. The Hostias (9) blends the harp with the rich tone of the choir in a heaven-invoking carol. In the first of two Interludia (10), Japanese music is limned in to represent participation of the Japanese army in the conflict. Trumpet fanfares impel and crown the grand statement that is the Sanctus (11). The coaxing and soothing ways of the Agnus Dei (12) usher in What Sweetness in This World (13) with its commanding piano part and bass-baritone darkness. Its fruity solo trumpet makes you think of Holst’s Dirge for Two Veterans. The Dies Irae returns in mists for the Kyrie eleison (15)—an exercise in slow-stepping serenity. There’s unhurried atmospheric ululation in the second Interludium: Hymn to Indra, calling to mind, if only in choice of subject, Holst’s Sanskrit works. The Requiem ends with the bells: part hugely imposing and celebratory and part seeming to reach out towards apotheosis from the bleak fog of chaos. The superb echoing resonance of the church acoustic is very present as the finale rings out.
This fully-fleshed out Requiem has a tremendously dignified tread, noble grief and imperious ways. Naxos have done well by Kastalsky. This treatment extends to a twenty-page booklet with all the sung text. The layout has the Italian, Latin, Greek and Russian words with English translation in parallel throughout.
– MusicWeb International (Rob Barnett)
Sibelius Edition Vol 8 - Orchestral Music
SIBELIUS Orchestral Works • Osmo Vänskä, cond; 1 Neemi Järvi, cond; 2 Jaakko Kuusisto (vn); 4 cond; 3 Leonidas Kavakos (vn); 5 Dong-Suk Kang (vn); 6 Marko Ylönen (vc); 7 Lahti SO; 1,3 Gothenburg SO 2 • BIS 1921 (6 CDs: 420:41)
Overture in E. 1 Scène de ballet. 1 Karelia: Complete music; 1 Overture; 2 Suite. 1 Impromptu. 2 Presto. 1 Press Celebrations Music. 1 Menuetto. 1 Coronation March. 1 March of the Pori Regiment. 1 Overture in a. 1 Romance in C. 1 Cortège. 1 Pan and Echo. 1 The Countess’s Portrait. 1 Violin Concerto: (1903–04); 1 (1905). 5 Rakastava. 1 2 Serenades. 2,6 2 Serious Melodies (2 versions). 1,2,6,7 6 Humoresques. 2,6 Academic March. 2 March of the Finnish Jäger Battalion. 1 3 Pieces, op. 96. 1 Suite mignonne. 1 Suite champêtre. 1 Suite caractèristique. 1 Morceau romantique. 1 Suite for Violin and Strings. 1,6 Andante festivo. 1 Processional. 1 Preliminary and alternative versions 1,3,4
Sibelius wrote a colossal amount of music for the orchestra. Already issued in BIS’s Sibelius Edition are boxes devoted to the tone poems (Vol. 1), theater music (Vol. 5, including the full scores plus the suites drawn from the composer’s incidental music), and voice and orchestra (Vol. 3); still to come, of course, is the volume of symphonies (Vol. 12, projected). That makes 21 or 22 well-filled CDs. Then there’s the present set, Vol. 8, which consists of everything else: works for violin and orchestra (about two CDs), music for patriotic pageants (one-and-a-half discs), and various occasional pieces, suites, and other works that don’t fit any of the above categories. The Sibelius quote with which annotator and project advisor, Andrew Barnett, begins his program notes could well serve as an epigram for the entire project: “I am myself a man of the orchestra. You must judge me from my orchestral works.”
Most of the contents of this set were first issued on single CDs: the Karelia music on BIS 915, the Press Celebrations Music on 1115, the two versions of the Violin Concerto on 500, the remaining works for violin and orchestra on 472, and various smaller works on 1265, 1445, 1485, and 1565. Items appearing here for the first time are the Karelia Suite, Menuetto, Romance, March of the Finnish Jäger Battalion , the three French-titled Suites, opp. 98 and 100, and the Processional , as well as several preliminary and alternative versions.
The sheer quantity of material here makes it most practical to discuss the works by category. Along with the Violin Concerto, the most important music in this set is that provided by Sibelius for two patriotic pageants during the Russian crackdown of the 1890s. Thinly disguised as benefits, the first in 1893 for education in the Viipuri district, the second in 1899 for the Press Pension Fund (the Russians had banned a Finnish newspaper), the Karelia and Press Celebrations pageants in reality served as nationalist rallies. The Karelia music, written the year after Kullervo and only two years after Sibelius’s first orchestral works, consisted of an Overture and music for eight tableaux; the Eighth Tableau quotes the song that would later become Finland’s national anthem. The Overture was published independently as op. 10, and three of the eight tableaux were adapted to form the Karelia Suite , op. 11. The remaining music—the entire score totals 50 minutes—is well worth hearing; particularly striking are the runic singing of Tableau 1 and the “siege” music of Tableau 6. In the runic singing, I prefer the earthy female voices used in Tuomas Ollila’s recording for Ondine to the bland baritones used here; otherwise, Vänskä’s version is more compelling. BIS includes Järvi’s energetic 1982 recording of the Overture (to avoid redundancy, one supposes), but gives the Suite in a new recording by Vänskä. I’m not sure why: there are plenty of fine recordings of the Suite already, and Sibelius collectors serious enough to consider this volume doubtless already have their favorite versions; mine is the RCA/Decca recording by Alexander Gibson, not currently available.
The Press Celebrations Music is almost as extensive, comprising a prelude and music for six tableaux; the final movement, “Finland Awakes,” with a new ending, became Finlandia , published as op. 26/7 in the expectation that the entire score would follow. In fact, only three other tableaux were published in revised form as Scènes historiques I , op. 25. The various stages of revision of Finlandia can be heard in Vol. 1 of the Edition; in the original, instead of the familiar apotheosis of the hymn tune, the ending consists of a series of bombastic fanfares. The Press Celebrations score is also included on the Ondine disc, but Vänskä is the clear winner.
The other major work here, of course, is the Violin Concerto. Kavakos and Vänskä give a compelling performance of the familiar 1905 revised version; it’s a performance of extremes, with the many technical challenges met head-on and the more lyrical music played with great sensitivity. Fans of Oistrakh on the one hand or Heifetz on the other won’t want to discard their favorites, but Kavakos offers yet another good option. The real story, though, is the 1991 version of Sibelius’s original score by the same artists; I believe it remains the only recording of the 1903–04 version. The comparison is intriguing; longtime Fanfare subscribers can find David K. Nelson’s detailed review in 14:6. It is impossible to discuss the two versions at length here, but two points should be made: first, the original is both longer and more difficult, including several fascinating passages that were later cut; second, as is almost invariably true, Sibelius’s final thoughts are his best. The revised version eliminates some interesting digressions and much extraneous detail, making it more cohesive and giving it more impact. The original version is still well worth hearing, not only because the comparison is so interesting, but also because it does include a good deal of music later eliminated. The two versions were originally issued in tandem, but here the original version is placed in an “appendix” on the last disc of the set, along with early or alternative versions of other works.
Kang and Järvi give sympathetic readings of the Two Serenades and the Serious Melodies ; the latter are also given, in the appendix, in Sibelius’s cello version by Ylönen and Vänskä. Only the Humoresques are a bit of a letdown. These superb pieces, written in 1917–18 when Sibelius was working on the Fifth Symphony under horrible conditions, are technically demanding and musically complex; they should be far better known, but their format—six short pieces totaling about 20 minutes—seems to have no niche in today’s concert programs. Kang and Järvi are less volatile, less exciting than Aaron Rosand on an ancient Vox LP. I have not heard the recordings of the violin-and-orchestra works by Tetzlaff or Kuusisto; Robert Maxham gave the former a mostly favorable review in 26:6, but the latter does not appear in the Fanfare Archive.
The many other pieces in this set can be addressed only briefly. Sibelius’s first orchestral works were the Overture in E Major and the Scène de ballet , both written in 1891; in 31:1, I preferred Järvi to Vänskä in the former, the reverse in the latter. The Overture in A Minor was written to fill out the program for the premiere of the Second Symphony; supposedly it was composed in a single evening. It certainly is far thinner in substance than the Symphony; its introduction, striking in its use of the trumpets, fails to go anywhere. The well-known Romance in C Major is given a rather perfunctory reading; Pan and Echo , a “Dance Intermezzo” sometimes grouped with the tone poems, is a striking miniature.
Rakastava (“The Lover”), a three-movement work for string orchestra with triangle and timpani written in 1911, the time of the Fourth Symphony, is a small masterpiece. It actually grew out of a much earlier choral work (thus perhaps explaining the anomalous opus number 11), and it was revised in 1912, Sibelius being dissatisfied with the arrangement. Again the final version is far superior to the earlier one, included in the appendix. Vänskä gives a sympathetic account.
Most of the remaining works are of minor importance; the Three Pieces , op. 96, and the three suites that followed, written between 1919 and 1922, are all essentially salon music; the Suite for Violin and String Orchestra, written in 1929 and thus one of Sibelius’s final compositions, is likewise not consequential. The Andante festivo , a 1938 arrangement of a work composed in 1922 for string quartet, is notable not only for its noble formality, but also because the recording of Sibelius’s live broadcast for the New York World’s Fair is the only surviving document of his conducting. That recording shows that almost everyone, including Vänskä, takes the piece too quickly; Vänskä’s version here has a timing of 5:10 versus Sibelius’s 6:55. Finally, the Processional is an arrangement of one of several songs Sibelius wrote for the Finnish Masonic lodge in 1927, again making it one of his last works.
The contents of this set range from some of Sibelius’s finest, most important works to some of the least significant products of his mature years. If you don’t have the single CD of the two versions of the Violin Concerto, or either of the pageant scores, or if you absolutely must have every scrap of orchestral music he created, this set’s for you. Collectors who have been acquiring each volume of the Edition as it is released will find this one of the more rewarding ones. Essential for Sibelians.
FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan
Ravel - Five O'Clock Foxtrot and more works for orchestra / Simon, Philharmonia Orchestra
Ravel grew up in Paris during la belle epoque, the thirty-odd years prior to 1914 when Paris was the unquestioned artistic center of the world. The fin de siecle years saw him enter the Paris Conservatoire. He was an immensely gifted youth, and one by one his early compositions began to show a real mastery of conception and execution-before the 1800s were out, he had produced such assured works as Habenera, Menuet antique, several fine songs, and Pavane pour une infante defunte.
Still: Symphonies 2 & 3, Wood Notes / Jeter, Fort Smith Symphony
STILL Symphony No. 2, “Song of a New Race.” Symphony No. 3, “Sunday Symphony.” Wood Notes • John Jeter, cond; Fort Smith S • NAXOS 8.559676 (61:39)
With this disc, Naxos and the present performers conclude their three-CD series of William Grant Still’s symphonies, plus other orchestral works. I reviewed the second volume (Symphonies 4 and 5, and the Poem for Orchestra— Naxos 8.559603) for another publication, and was quite beguiled. I feel the same way this time around. This music is impossible not to like, and conductor John Jeter and his orchestra from Arkansas, the state in which the young composer spent part of his childhood, are effective advocates.
Wood Notes , a work from 1947 that is receiving its first recording here, is a suite of four movements: “Singing River,” “Autumn Night,” “Moon Dusk,” and “Whippoorwill’s Shoes.” The titles suggest that the music will be picturesque, and, in the best sense of the word, simple, and indeed it is. If there is such a thing as an American Pastoral school of composers, Still would be its dean. The Currier and Ives prints that have adorned the booklet covers in this series have been very appropriate, as they project an innocence that is also one of the strongest characteristics of Still’s music. Imagine Delius at his least Impressionistic, Dvo?ák at his least academic, and Jerome Kern at his most classical, and that might give you an idea of what Still’s music sounds like. (Nevertheless, Varèse was one of his teachers!)
The Second Symphony, premiered with great success by Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1937, is “a vision of an integrated society.” In terms of form, this is a bit more ambitious than Wood Notes , but Still’s writing is so unpretentious, tuneful, and relaxed that one can’t help asking what makes this work more symphonic than the other. The mood is sometimes wistful and often hopeful, and Still, when he is not embracing the listener outright, is at least holding his hand, or throwing his arm around his shoulder. Not surprisingly, African-American elements, both traditional and more popular (jazzy), are prominent in this work.
The “Sunday Symphony” dates from 1958. Again, naming its movements will give the reader an idea of what the music sounds like: “Awakening,” “Prayer,” “Relaxation,” and “Day’s End and a New Beginning.” Only 18 minutes long, this symphony is as suitelike as its predecessor, every bit as ingratiating, and even more uncomplicated. Appropriately, “Prayer” is the longest movement, and it builds to a soulful climax. “Awakening” and “Relaxation” both chatter away companionably, and the last movement brings the symphony to its resolute and affirmative conclusion.
I don’t get the feeling that this music makes exorbitant demands on an orchestra. The Fort Smith Symphony, a lean-sounding ensemble in the manner of Howard Hanson’s Eastman-Rochester group, puts Still’s music across capably and with sympathy. (I would have liked to have heard Stokowski and the Philadelphians play the Second Symphony, though!)
It is tempting to call this music naive, but I think to do so would say more about our lack of innocence as listeners, than about any lack of sophistication on the part of William Grant Still.
FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle
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For much of his life William Grant Still was invariably referred an army going into battle with a lovely central section describing t to as the “Dean of African-American Composers”. Though his music partakes of many African-American elements, it also demonstrates his varied training under Chadwick and Varese and the many years he spent writing music for jazz bands, radio, music and television. Today Still can be seen simply as one of that number of American nationalist composers who came to maturity between the wars.
In the late 1920s Still began a musical trilogy that would portray the African-American experience in the U.S.: Africa, a tone poem describing the original homeland; the Symphony No. 1 ( African-American) describing the years leading to the Emancipation Proclamation; and the Symphony No. 2 ( Song of a New Race) describing a future where African-Americans would take equal part in the destiny of their country.
The Symphony No. 2 is a major work, blending jazz, blues and gospel elements with a nationalist feeling akin to that of the Eastman School. All of the movements are relatively slow (cf. Vaughan Williams’ Symphony No. 3). The slow movement proper is the most beautiful and expressive, while the “moderately slow” finale shows Still’s great technical skill as he joins thematic elements of all four movements into an emotionally satisfying conclusion.
Wood Notes is a suite evocative of nature in the American South. Each of the four pieces begins with simple, almost trivial material, which Still then transforms into something far more poignant than one would have expected.
While numbered as the third, The Sunday Symphony was the last of Still’s five symphonies to be written. It describes the typical Sunday of a churchgoer (Still was quite devout) and while not as profound as the Symphony No. 2 it is equally sincere and more compact in expression. The opening movement is full of energy, somewhat reminiscent of Gershwin, but with modal elements and scoring reminiscent of the Big Bands. In the Prayer movement Still develops the main melody for English horn to a poetic coda in his best style. Relaxation is very simple, while the last movement alternates resolution worthy of wilight and the thoughts of the worshipper as he prepares for th e coming day.
The key to performing Still’s music is to concentrate on his obvious sincerity and technical ability, while not letting his tendency towards sentimentality to overwhelm all else. John Jeter realizes this and wisely brings out the positive elements, demonstrating complete control of his players (especially regarding rhythm) and deriving enthusiastic performances. The Fort Smith (Arkansas) Symphony has some troubles with ensemble, but the overall sound is lush, as much of the music requires. This disc completes the Naxos series of the Still symphonies. While there are other impressive recordings of the first two symphonies, Jeter faces no real competition with the last three, and the entire set can be recommended to all fans of American music.
-- William Kreindler , MusicWeb International
Thomas Hampson sings Brahms, Schubert, and Mendelssohn
Earthcycle / Orchestra of the Swan
Following their acclaimed mix-tape series on Signum Classics, Earthcycle is the fifth album from Orchestra of the Swan and David Le Page. Earthcycle is an innovative and timely project which finds a compelling way to engage with humanity’s most urgent threat. Through three initial performances, a recording and a film, Earthcycle contem- plates our impact on Earth’s environment and the disruption of its natural rhythms. To celebrate the 300th anniversary of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons they have commissioned a new version from our Associate Artist, baroque/jazz musician and composer David Gordon which is interspersed with traditional folk songs related to the theme of the seasons and performed by singer Jackie Oates. Earthcycle highlights the 21st century’s greatest concern whilst celebrating nature and our place within it.
Milken Archive - Klezmer Concertos And Encores
Paul Schoenfield's long-standing desire "to create entertaining music that could be played at Hassidic gatherings as well as the concert hall" finds fulfillment in his Klezmer Rondos--a concerto for flute, tenor, and orchestra. The opening's raucous band music comes to an abrupt stop as the flute's sustained high note introduces the plaintive main theme. After a series of contentious exchanges between flute (skillfully rendered by Scott Goff) and orchestra, the band music returns, this time halted by the tenor's sustained high note, which in turn becomes Schoenfield's setting of the Yiddish poem Mirele (sung with wit and tenderness by Alberto Mizrahi). It's a marvelously effective piece that, although steeped in elements of Jewish ritual, can be enjoyed by all listeners.
Next come two brief pieces by Jacob Weinberg, The Maypole and Canzonetta, which are colorful explorations of Yiddish and Hassidic folk melodies, while Abraham Ellstein's tuneful Hassidic Dance for clarinet and orchestra presents a rhapsodic evocation of traditional Jewish ceremonies.
The final piece, Osvaldo Golijov's Rocketekya, scored for clarinet, violin, electric viola, and contrabass, is closest to what most listeners will know as Klezmer--a high-spirited, rhythmically and melodically exotic celebration. David Krakauer's highly imaginative and technically assured playing greatly enlivens the clarinet works, while Gerard Schwarz leads energetic and sensitive accompaniments with both the Seattle and Barcelona orchestras. The recordings all have fine presence, clarity, and impact.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com
Click here to view all available releases in the Milken Archive Series at ArkivMusic.
Rachmaninoff: The Bells / Slatkin, St. Louis Symphony
Learn more about Elite Recordings and the revival of their VOX Classics albums on the Naxos Classical Spotlight Podcast!
The three choral masterpieces featured on this recording, conducted by Leonard Slarkin, were originally issued on the Vox label in 1982. The Bells is sung in an English translation by Fanny S. Copeland of the Russian poet Konstantin Belmont's poem. The recordings were produced by Marc Aubort and Joanna Nickrenz whose recordings are considered by audiophiles to be amongst the finest available. The Russian sung texts, transliterations and English translations are included in the booklet.
REVIEW:
Leonard Slatkin is adept atmost conveying the melancholy, sunset world of Rachmaninoff; when passion is called for, the Slatkin of 44 years ago in these performances musters plenty of it. He certainly guided the St Louis Symphony to become one of the nation’s finest orchestras, and they sound resplendent here.
— American Record Guide
C.P.E. Bach: Flute Concertos
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 & Francesca Da Rimini / Jarvi, Zurich Tonhalle Orchestra
So Poetique!
Blech: Complete Orchestral Works & Songs / Gornik, Ward, Aachen Symphony Orchestra
The closest Leo Blech (1880–1959) gets to fame these days is being mistaken for Ernest Bloch. Actually, some might still remember his seminal work as an opera conductor in Berlin, where he worked for almost half a century (except for the Nazi years, when he lived in exile, avoiding a far worse fate). But his compositions – either operas or involving the voice in some other way – have disappeared from the repertoire. What a shame, because his music is, while less probing than that of his contemporary Bloch’s, very much charming in the style of, say, Humperdinck or Rheinberger. This release constitutes the first part of an upcoming celebration of Blech by Capriccio, which will later release a 2-CD recording of his opera The Alpine King and the Misanthrope.
REVIEW:
In the times we are living through, the music of Leo Blech recorded for this CD could be characterized as eco-music. The majority of the works describe nature in an idyllic, idealized state, as we wish it back only too gladly.
Now Leo Blech had to contend with quite different problems during his lifetime. As a celebrated conductor with Jewish roots, he was ostracized by the Nazis in the mid-1930s, was forced into retirement and went into exile.
For Leo Blech, music and nature were undoubtedly a refuge to a peaceful world. This is reflected in his compositions, beginning on this recording with Waldwanderung, an atmospheric contemplation of nature interpreted by the Aachen Symphony Orchestra under Christopher Ward with fine texture, lyrical wind choir and delicate string sounds.
Overall, we are dealing with extremely sensitive interpretations. Especially in the works with vocal instrumentation, Christopher Ward lets the orchestra sing and the great potential of the wonderful melodies come to full fruition.
The symphonic poem Die Nonne, on the other hand, is gripping and highly dramatic. The historical and emotional connection with Leo Blech, who was born in Aachen, repeatedly drives the entire ensemble to committed interpretations. In the end, the result is a coherent and noble homage to the composer Leo Blech
-- Pizzicato
Maxwell Davies: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 5
Rautavaara: Song of My Heart - Orchestral Songs / Suovanen
The most wonderful thing about Rautavaara's songs is that no matter what the technical basis of his compositional method, he understands that "song" means an evocative text set to a singable melody. You may not go away humming all of the tunes here, particularly in the brief, powerful, and oddly disturbing cycle God's Way (to poems by Bo Setterlind), but there's no questioning the fundamental rightness of Rautavaara's reaction to the words, or his ability to project his feelings into an expressive vocal line. That's not something to be taken for granted nowadays, when grateful and effective writing for the voice is no longer the basis of most composers' techniques, whether writing for people or for instruments.
The remaining four sets of songs on this disc all employ texts of the highest quality, by Shakespeare (in English, by the way), Rilke, and Finnish poet Aleksis Kivi. The Rilke settings are particularly moving, nowhere more so than The Lovers, whose third song, "Woman Loving", ought to be a recital classic by now. The three songs taken from the opera Aleksis Kivi also deserve to find a life of their own away from the larger work. They stand among the most hauntingly beautiful of Rautavaara's latest creations. Baritone Gabriel Suovanen sings all of this music with warm tone and great musical intelligence, and he couldn't be better accompanied than by Segerstam and the Helsinki Philharmonic. Ideally balanced sound rounds out this most enticing picture of Rautavaara's generously lyrical art.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Valen: Orchestral Music Vol 2 / Christian Eggen, Stavanger Symphony Orchestra
Stavanger Symphony Orchestra and conductor Christian Eggen continue the survey of their compatriot Fartein Valen's orchestral music with a programme spanning the years 1932-1946. Valen had by then already established his distinctive tonal language, an atonal counterpoint based on his studies of Bach with inspiration from Schoenberg and from Alban Berg. The three single-movement orchestral pieces recorded here were written in the space of just over a year, and all have titles that are rich in extra-musical associations. They are not, however, examples of romantic programme music: the titles reflect the underlying inspiration rather than the content of the works. Nenia, from the Latin, is a lament - or 'funeral march' as Valen termed it - inspired by the expressive Roman marble figure known as the 'Dying Gaul'. For An die Hoffnung it was the poem 'To Hope' by John Keats which provided the creative impetus, and it is known that Valen owned a copy of Edmund Spenser's Epithalamion from 1595, as he was composing the work which he intended as a wedding gift to his nephew. These shorter works may be seen as preliminary studies for Valen's symphonies, of which No.2 and No.3 were composed from 1941 to 1946. During this time - which more or less coincides with the German occupation of Norway - Valen led a reclusive life on the family farm, spending his time composing and tending his beloved rose garden. As a symphonist, Valen was not interested in the traditional symphonic development but he did want to preserve the character of the extended lines with long spans through polyphony. To quote the liner notes by Valen specialist Arvid Vollsnes, 'many of the movements are like gigantic fugues. They have a dynamic, rather than an architectural form even though we encounter sonata form, Lied form and rondos.'.
Braunfels: Orchestral Works / Bühl, ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra
"Slightly the audience remember that I'm - as a descendant of writing tonal music - still alive and continue composing." (Walter Braunfels, 1946) Walter Braunfels is a composer whose music died twice: Once when the Nazis declared his music "degenerate art". Then again when post-war Germany had little use for the various schools of tonal music; when the arbiters of taste considered any form of romantic music - almost the whole pre-war aesthetic - to be tainted. This 9th release of Capriccio's Braunfels Edition shows us also an open-minded composer who experimented with Jazz elements in his Divertimento for radio-orchestra in 1929.
REVIEWS:
This is light and delightful music, far from offering even the hint of banality or boredom. The music of Walter Braunfels can hardly be stylistically determined, as he is said to have references to all the great composers around him, though Braunfels always kept his music on his personal path. Conductor Gregor Bühl is among some who are again paying attention to this composer. He gives this positively upbeat music the affection and care that makes its special character shine, modeling both the clean craftsmanship and the warmth of the music’s content. The airiness, as in Ariel’s singing, becomes just as clear as the heart beating in the Serenade, without any unnecessary display of individual compositional elements.
– Pizzicato
That Divertimento is the real discovery here: an absolutely delicious bon-bon evocatively scored for a small orchestra including two saxophones, used with effortless freshness and not a shred of fin-de-siècle decadence (fun though that can be). Both the Serenade and Ariel’s Song date from 1910, fairly early in Braunfels’ career, and if they lack the individuality we find in his more ambitious later pieces, they certainly fall gratefully on the ear and deliver exactly what they promise – a bit of light relaxation. The “song,” by the way, is a lyrical orchestral piece, and not a not a vocal work. The Don Gil prelude offers six minutes of comic opera fun. Apparently the opera itself, composed in 1921-23, was a failure, but from such failures have come many appealing concert works, and here is one. As with previous releases in this series, the fine performances under conductor Gregor Bühl have all of the conviction and commitment of a true believer in the cause, and the sonics are excellent. This disc will appeal to music lovers of all ages. Strongly recommended.
– ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)
Bolcom: Songs of Innocence & Experience / Slatkin
"William Bolcom's gigantic, well-more-than-two-hour setting of William Blake's complete "Songs of Innocence and of Experience" poetic cycle is enormously difficult and expensive to perform. Looking down at the forces assembled for the University of Michigan performance in Hill Auditorium here on Thursday night was a mega-Mahlerian experience, with a stage extension needed to accommodate the nearly 500 musicians (bigger than the forces of any Mahler "Symphony of a Thousand" I have encountered). All that was missing were lighting effects and projections of Blake's engravings, suggested in the score. But they were on display in the lobby. So visually it was awesome, and musically it was pretty awesome, too. Mr. Bolcom, who is now 65, has taught at the University of Michigan since 1973. He first became interested in Blake's visionary poems - written in the late 18th century and full of Christian mysticism and a horror of modern life and human cruelty - in 1956, from when his first sketches date. Composed sporadically, the piece received its world and American premieres in 1984 and has been performed intermittently since. At its second appearance in New York, with Leonard Slatkin conducting the St. Louis Symphony at Carnegie Hall in 1992, Edward Rothstein ended the first paragraph of his review in The New York Times with the words, "It should be recorded." Now, at long last, it has been. Thursday's performance was again conducted by Mr. Slatkin and, with patching sessions, will be released on the Naxos label."
-- John Rockwell, New York Times, April 11, 2004
