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Casella: Complete Music For Cello & Piano / Favalessa, Semeraro
Brilliant Classics · Apr 2014CD$13.99 -
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Netzel: Chamber Portrait / Broman, Crawford-Phillips, Bisholt, Musica Vitae Chamber Orchestra
DB Productions · Sep 2021CD$18.99 -
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Charles Ives: Hallowe'en, Quarter-Tone Pieces & More / Seltzer, Sachs, Continuum
Naxos · Mar 2005CD$19.99 -
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Stabat - Part, MacMillan & Vasks / Ross, Dmitri Ensemble, Clair College Choir Cambridge
HARMONIA MUNDI · Mar 2020CD$18.49 -
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Mozart: 45 Symphonies / Adam Fischer, Danish National Chamber Orchestra
Dacapo Classical · Jan 2014CD$53.99 -
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Artur Balsam plays Brahms, Beethoven, Mozart, Strauss, Hindemith, Clementi, CPe Bach, Paganini, Hummel, Ravel, Debussy
Pianist and music teacher Artur Balsam was born in Warsaw on February 8, 1906. He attended the Helena Kijenska-Dobkiewiczowa Conservatory (now Academy) of Music established at the beginning of the 20th century in the Polish city of Lodz. After that he went to the Hochschule für Musik in Berlin, where he continued his studies with Artur Schnabel. A mere 12 years elapsed between his concert debut in 1918 and his success at the 1930 Berlin International Piano Competition; shortly after winning that competition, he was awarded the Mendelssohn Prize for chamber music in 1931 in Munich. Balsam matured into a sought-after partner at the piano: having won the Mendelssohn Prize together with the violinist Roman Totenberg, he toured the USA the following year with the brilliant young Yehudi Menuhin. After the rise to absolute power in Germany of Adolf Hitler at the head of his Nazi party, Balsam emigrated to the United States. He settled in New York in 1940, made a name for himself on the American chamber music scene and was the favorite accompanist of many famous soloists, especially in the years from 1940 to the early Seventies of the last century. He frequently partnered the great violinists Nathan Milstein and David Oistrakh, also playing for Joseph (violin) and Lillian (viola) Fuchs, Leonid Kogan (violin), Zino Francescatti (violin), Pierre Fournier (cello) and Mstislav Rostropovich (cello). Balsam was the pianist of the NBC Symphony Orchestra under Arturo Toscanini for five years. He was also a piano soloist for other leading orchestras.
Visnoviz: Violin Sonata, Klavierstucke
Alfano: Complete String Quartets
Known more widely as a composer of operas, Franco Alfano also composed a body of chamber music including the three string quartets heard here in world premiere recordings.
String Quartet No. 1 in D major was composed during the First World War between 1914 and 1918. The String Quartet No. 2 in C major In Tre Tempi Collegati, composed in 1925–26, is a smaller scale work than the first, and mostly much more tonal in harmonic structure. The String Quartet No. 3 in G minor was written in 1945 and premiered in Rome on 28 November 1947.
The Quartet comprises violinists Elmira Darvarova and Mary Ann Mumm, violist Craig Mumm and cellist Samuel Magill. The same ensemble can also be heard on the acclaimed Naxos album of Alfano’s Violin Sonata and Piano Quintet (8.572753). Alfano's Cello Sonata and Concerto for Violin, Cello and Piano can be heard on 8.570928.
REVIEW:
The first two quartets date from a period that reached from the Great War to the mid-1920s. The opening of the String Quartet No. 1 is a Vivacissimo but the word stands feebly in the face of the torrid, angular tumult that is the first movement. An implacably melodious and fluently flowing Calmo was written as a memorial to his son who died while serving in the Italian military. It is followed by a Largo-Allegro Deciso. The first particle of this movement is a short extension of the mood of its predecessor but soon says a dry-eyed farewell with writing that is, at first, long on a tungsten determination. This is clearly relished by these four players. The music ends with a noble determination that seems to speak of a will to hold it together.
The tonality of the String Quartet No. 2 is placed under less stress than the First Quartet although it is by no means facile listening. It feels inventive. The second movement is marked ‘like a children’s song’. It is a delicate Thumbelina dance of a blossom. The final ‘danse villageoise’ accelerates all the way through.
The 1940s dealt blows to Alfano: much of his music was destroyed in the bombing of Turin and his wife died in 1943. It comes as little surprise that the writing of the first movement of the Third Quartet pierces a path into melancholy. Misty-eyed happiness is recalled but clearly it is not to be experienced again. Joy of a sort is grasped in the next movement, tipping over into the melodic complexity of the powerful Allegro finale. Alfano’s final String Quartet had a Rome premiere in 1947.
The CD’s notes could hardly be more needful – and incidentally meeting that need – when the music is otherwise unknown to all but a few. They are by the disc’s cellist, Samuel Magill. The performances are wondrously fervent, hot-house products. The sound is at your throat, heated and upon you with tiger-like ferocity.
-- MusicWeb International (Rob Barnett)
American Classics - Toch: Piano Quintet, Violin Sonata No 2, Burlesken, Impromptus, / Spectrum Concerts Berlin
Toch composed the Quintet upon his arrival in the United States in 1938, and what comes through forcefully is the sense of his nostalgia for the world he left behind as he brilliantly marries Brahmsian compositional style to 20th-century tonal language. The movement titles go straight to the heart of the matter: The Lyrical Part, The Whimsical Part, The Contemplative Part, and The Dramatic Part, with the Contemplative slow movement being the most firmly rooted in the 20th century, reaching a Berg-style expressiveness. Spectrum Concerts Berlin provides committed and powerfully rendered performances, all captured in first-rate sound. Toch fans need not hesitate in acquiring this excellent disc.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com
Pejacevic: Symphony, Op. 41; Phantasie Concertante / Rasilainen, Banfield, Rheinland-pfalz State Philharmonic
PEJA?EVI? Symphony in f?. Phantasie Concertante for Piano and Orchestra • Ari Rasilainen, cond; Volker Banfield (pn); Rheinland-Pfalz St PO • CPO 777418 (62:42)
Cpo, a label noted for ferreting out obscure repertoire, has outdone itself this time by digging up not just another female composer—that alone wouldn’t be so rare—but a Croatian one to boot. Heretofore, I don’t think I could have named a single Croatian composer of any gender, but now I can. Short-lived Dora Peja?evi? (1885–1923) was actually born in Budapest, the daughter of a Croatian father and a Hungarian mother, the Countess Lilla Vay de Vaya, an accomplished pianist and Dora’s first teacher. On her father’s side, Dora was descended from a distinguished noble family in Slavonia, the eastern region of Croatia. In composition, she was largely self-taught, but she did receive some private instruction in Zagreb, Dresden, and Munich. She died at 38 following complications of childbirth.
During her short life, she produced 58 documented works. That number isn’t particularly noteworthy compared to other composers who died even younger and wrote much more, but what is worth mentioning is that like another female composer, the French Louise Farrenc (1804–75), Peja?evi? competed with the boys in the arena of large symphonic, concerted orchestral, and chamber works. In addition to the symphony and concert fantasy on this disc, known and/or published works include a piano concerto, sonatas for piano, violin, and cello, and a piano quintet. During her life, her music was not entirely unknown in the music capitals of Europe; it was heard in Vienna, Munich, Budapest, and Prague.
The works Peja?evi? left behind, to the extent they were acknowledged at all, must have seemed hopelessly outdated by a musical intelligentsia preoccupied with the latest compositional novelties. It’s not just that she embraced a musical vocabulary practically indistinguishable from any number of late 19th-century Romantic composers, but by the time she came to begin her F?-Minor Symphony in 1916, completing it a year later, the era of the big Romantic symphony was on life support, or at least on recuperative leave. Mahler had pretty much seen to that a decade earlier. Last-stand efforts by Rachmaninoff, Sibelius, Franz Schmidt, and a number of others didn’t change the fact that the symphony, as inherited from the 19th century, was about to take on new forms and modes of expression in the 20th.
Peja?evi?’s symphony, like Rachmaninoff’s Second, may have been written in the 20th century, but it belongs to the 19th. It’s your standard-issue four-movement effusively romantic affair—a rich tapestry spun from strands of long-breathed chromatically enhanced melody, luxuriant harmony, and opulent orchestration. It doesn’t seem to be much influenced by the Mahler-Zemlinsky-Schoenberg axis, though perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise considering the very complex cultural cross-pollination of Croatia’s history by Hungarian, Italian, and even Russian influences. In fact, isolated passages throughout Peja?evi?’s symphony remind me a bit of Glazunov. But there are so many other crosscurrents going on in the score, not least of which is a passage at 7:54 in the first movement that sounds like it escaped from Dukas’s The Sorcerer’s Apprentice . But it quickly morphs into something that sounds like it was lifted from Strauss’s An Alpine Symphony.
If there’s any surprise at all in Peja?evi?’s piece it’s how upbeat and optimistic it sounds for a work ostensibly in a minor key. Her melodies have an almost Italianate character to them in their lithe and graceful manner, and if the title and notes didn’t identify the piece as being in minor, I’d bet the farm it was in major.
The piano Phantasie Concertante came two years after completion of the symphony. In a single movement lasting almost 15 minutes, the piece is a virtuoso vehicle that alternates between Gershwin-like bluesy harmonies and jazzy rhythms on the one hand and keyboard figuration right out of Rachmaninoff on the other. Just listen to the broad, lush melody beginning in the cellos at 6:12 and the florid passagework in the piano weaving around and entwining with it. It could have come from the first movement of Rachmaninoff’s Second Concerto. I hope someone from Hyperion is reading this, because Peja?evi?’s Phantasie and probably her piano concerto as well are ideal candidates for the next volume of the Romantic Piano Concerto series.
When you hear this piece you will wonder how Peja?evi? could have been forgotten. If the climax to the lengthy aforementioned passage doesn’t sweep you away, I can’t think of much else that will. The fact that Peja?evi? could develop, build, and sustain a musical paragraph of such length is evidence in itself that the woman could write circles around many of her peers, male or female.
Pianist Volker Banfield is stunning, as are conductor Ari Rasilainen and his Rheinland-Pfalz State Philharmonic forces. Cpo has done it again. I thought I’d already settled on my annual Want List selections, but this dark horse entry is just going to have to push another pick aside. Urgently recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Casella: Complete Music For Cello & Piano / Favalessa, Semeraro
The First Sonata, like his other youthful compositions, reveals various stylistic influences: there are hints of Debussy, Mahler and Strauss, as well as traces of what Casella had learnt from Fauré. Even in these early works, however, the composer’s own personality comes across clearly in the search for what was new and hitherto unexplored ground. The Second Sonata reveals a change in compositional approach. In fact, it bears witness to his interest in a style that he defined as ‘baroque in its monumentality’. With its four movements it is more extensive, with dynamics based on deep contrasts between passages that are passionate and vigorous, and others in which the atmosphere is quietly intimate. The same rhythmic energy returns in the Tarantella, composed in 1929 along with the Notturno for violin and piano, transcribed by Luigi Silva in 1931, and ultimately reworked by Casella for cello and orchestra in 1934.
Andrea Favalessa and Maria Semeraro are young Italian musicians who regularly play together in a fruitful artistic partnership that has won them international recognition and numerous awards.
Other information:
- Recorded in 2013.
- The music of Alfredo Casella is experiencing a true revival: labels like Chandos and Naxos issue his large scale orchestral works to great critical and public acclaim, and this new recording presents his wonderful works for cello and piano.
- Casella’s musical language is often called “Neoclassical”: clear structures, open and strong melodic lines, vibrant and sharply edged rhythms, music of great vitality and power.
- The cello sonatas receive a passionate and convincing performance by two young Italians, Andrea Favalessa and Maria Semeraro, a duo already for many years, having won several international prizes at chamber music competitions.
- Booklet includes notes on the music by Maria Semeraro.
Martinu: Piano Quintets No 1 & 2, Etc / Karel Kosárek, Et Al
Martinu's Second Piano Quintet dates from 1944, the same time as the Third and Fourth Symphonies, and if you love those works you'll be thrilled by this quintet, which sounds just like them albeit scored for smaller forces. Right from the dreamy opening Martinu's personal blend of impressionistic harmony and sweetly lyrical, syncopated melody makes the work instantly recognizable, and unforgettable. The Adagio second movement must number among his finest in any medium, while the finale, with its alternations of quick and slow tempos and unsettled emotional climate, anticipates that of the Fifth Symphony. In short, this is a great work, certainly one of the best piano quintets of the 20th century (not that there are all that many worth noting).
The Piano Quintet No. 1 dates from 1933, when Martinu was living in Paris and turning out a delightful stream of neo-classical and neo-baroque works. Although recognizably music by the composer of the Second Quintet, the treatment of material is quite different. The strings tend to operate as a unit, opposed by the full harmony of the piano, while the toccata-like rhythms and more acerbic, less lyrical thematic material are all characteristic traits of Martinu's early maturity. If anything these observations are even more true of the quirky and highly entertaining two-movement Sonata for Two Violins and Piano of a year earlier.
The Martinu Quartet, already acclaimed for its performances on Naxos of its eponymous composer's works for that medium, finds a worthy partner in pianist Karol Kosárek. The performances are uniformly excellent, full of energy but never timbrally crude (as with The Lindsay Quartet on ASV). There is very little competition in this music: the ASV release aside, the most noteworthy previous release comes from an old Denon/Supraphon recording of the Second Quintet featuring the Smetana Quartet. The coupling (Three Madrigals) is much less generous than what Naxos offers here, making this extremely well-recorded release essential for chamber music collectors and Martinu fans alike.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
MARTIN? Piano Quintets: No. 1; No. 2. Sonata for Two Violins and Piano • Karel Košárek (pn); Martin? Qrt • NAXOS 557861 (58:33)
The piano quintet is a challenging medium. Setting aside Schubert’s “Trout” and Hummel’s op. 84 (both of which use violin, viola, cello, and double bass instead of string quartet with piano), the Romantic quintets most frequently encountered in concerts today are those by Schumann, Dvo?ák, Franck, and Brahms. One comes across the Saint-Saëns, Elgar, Fauré, and Dohnányi quintets less often. The Brahms piece, published as both a quintet and a sonata for two pianos, provides an interesting illustration of the problem posed by the medium. Does the composer use the ensemble in a sort of mini-concerto, playing off piano and quartet against one another, à la Brahms, or does he attempt a more cohesive integration of the ensemble, achieved with such brilliance by Franck? Shostakovich’s Piano Quintet excepted, relatively few 20th-century essays for the medium have caught on. This new recording of pianist Karel Košárek and the Martin? Quartet (violinists Lubomir Havlák and Petr Mate?ják, violist Jan Jíša, and cellist Jitka Vlašanková) makes a compelling case for admitting Bohuslav Martin?’s two piano quintets into the fold.
The first piano quintet, composed in Paris in 1933, is a life-affirming work of bold contours and bright colors. In terms of ensemble, it is closer to the Brahmsian concerto-like model. The first movement’s robust musical argument is set out here with great conviction. Košárek and the Martin? portray the alternately wistful and anguished Andante with elegance and sympathy. Tricky rhythmical figurations in the harmonically luminous allegretto Scherzo are superbly negotiated. The quartet manages the pungent dissonances that usher in the fourth and final movement with sure intonation and great effect.
Blacklisted by the Nazis, Martin? and his wife immigrated to the US in 1941. Three years later, he composed the Second Piano Quintet, replete with coloristic elements of Bohemian folklore that might suggest the composer’s longing for home. Fluttering trills and tremolandos in the strings and piano lend the strange and beautiful Adagio an ethereal air. Throughout, Martin? accomplishes the Franckian ideal of perfectly integrated ensemble. My sense is that this Quintet plumbs greater depths than the Parisian work, though it is certainly equally appealing.
The neo-Baroque Sonata for Two Violins and Piano comes as a light-hearted affair in the wake of the substantial quintets. The second of its two Allegro movements is prefaced with an odd and fascinating Andante, beautifully played by Havlák and Mate?ják. The excellent pianist Karel Košárek here demonstrates that his expertise as an accompanist equals his strength as the protagonist in the more elaborate quintets.
Writing in the late 1970s, the Austrian musicologist Othmar Wessely called Martin? “a curiously elusive artist,” noting the speed with which he composed his vast output, combined with his aversion to revision. Though a great deal of his music is available, much of it recorded by artists from the former Czechoslovakia, I suspect that a definitive assessment of his work is yet to come. Few would probably argue that Martin?’s achievement approaches the eloquent mastery of his older contemporaries, Janá?ek and Bartók. But at its best, Martin?’s music can be original, compelling, and very beautiful. Karel Košárek and the Martin? Quartet were recorded in a studio of the Czech Radio in Prague in June 2005. The technical values are high, and the ambient acoustic well suited to both the material and the players. Recommended.
FANFARE: Patrick Rucker
Netzel: Chamber Portrait / Broman, Crawford-Phillips, Bisholt, Musica Vitae Chamber Orchestra
“Art is a field that has always been open to women, and where they have also accomplished a great deal. It can not be denied that whilst women have had success in the performing arts their achievements in the creative arts have not been so illustrious. As for Swedish women in particular they have won great acclaim abroad but always as performers. Consequently many people rush to the assumption that women do not have the ability to create significant works of art. Objectively, there is no evidence to suggest this is true or false with regard to the field of music. On the other hand, it should be assumed that a woman, given the same conditions as a man, can create equally impressive works of art. All efforts in this area should be met with respect even by those who have been skeptical to previous attempts. Amongst those, who have seriously dedicatedly applied themselves to redressing this imbalance in Swedish music, Laura Netzel holds a special position.” (F. Herman) Laura Netzel (1839-1927) is yet another Swedish composer of forgotten treasures. Malin Broman and Simon Crawford-Phillips are back with their third album on dB Productions, this time along with soprano Sabina Bisholt and the Musica Vitae Chamber Orchestra. This chamber music album present never before recorded works for violin & strings, violin & piano, and selected songs and piano pieces by this remarkable composer, just waiting to be discovered by a broader public.
Kammersymphonie
Kuhlau: Violin Sonatas
Bach: Brandenburg Concertos / Apollo Ensemble
This recording presents alternative versions of three famous works by J.S.Bach, indeed the Brandenburg Concertos of Bach are among the best known and loved pieces of 18th century.
"These alternative settings are all attributed to Bach himself. In presenting the pieces in unfamiliar versions, it is not our purpose to contribute to any debate about authenticity or legitimacy. Although there seems to be evidence that at least some of these versions do predate their better-known transcriptions, it is not on the basis of proposed greater authority that we wish to bring them to the public, our goal is an artistic one, namely: to confront the listener with an alternative perspective to the familiar version [with] greater transparency and a more perfect balance achieved by means of a reduction in the number of tutti parts, revealing the essential structural integrity of each of the pieces. It can be argued that the structure is somewhat veiled in the fuller instrumental versions." - Apollo Ensemble.
10 Jahre Basel komponiert - Hans Huber "Romanzen und Ballade
Brahms & Contemporaries, Vol. 3
Charles Ives: Hallowe'en, Quarter-Tone Pieces & More / Seltzer, Sachs, Continuum
Hallowe’en (about 1914) ‘is but a take-off of a Halloween party and bonfire - the elfishness of the little boys throwing wood on the fire, etc. etc...’ To illustrate the growing bonfire, the strings enter progressively, in different keys, with oddly-placed accents. The ending is a take-off of ‘a regular coda from a proper opera, heard down the street from the bandstand’. From the technical point of view, Ives considered Hallowe’en one of his best compositions.
The vocal selections convey something of the wealth of his 175-odd songs, for which Ives wrote many of the texts. Joel Sachs and Cheryl Seltzer direct performances in this thrilling chamber program, also including Five Take-Offs, Three Quarter-tone Pieces, and Sunrise.
REVIEW:
The opening song-group, very well sung, begins lyrically with The Housatonic at Stockbridge, but at its climax the piano accompaniment goes wild; the following Soliloquy explodes similarly, and the dissonant, untamed accompaniment continues its conflict to underline On the Antipodes. Sunrise (Ives’s final song) initially brings relative peace and an Elysian violin solo but still has an agitated climax. In the brief Remembrance (of the composer’s father), the cello enters too, to create a simple eulogy in which the violin persists. In Aeschylus and Sophocles the wildness erupts into frenzy at the words ‘Accursed be the race’, but the anger subsides for the final ‘Farewell’, and the last word is with the cello.
The first of the instrumental pieces, The Gong on the Hook and Ladder, pictures the annual parade of the neighbourhood Fire Company. Hallowe’en is a busy, dissonant Scherzo (the strings playing in different keys), suggesting the growing flames of the bonfire, with children running round it. In Re Con Moto et al. brings the most ferocious dissonance of all ‘to stretch ear muscles’, as Ives suggested. The piano pieces, Five Take-offs (implying improvisatory freedom, but in fact highly organized), were published as recently as 1991, and would make a stimulating centrepiece for any modern piano recital. The untamed, feral Jumping Frog has an underlying boldly controlled cantus firmus. Then, astonishingly, Song without (Good) Words is quite beautiful—very romantic, but with wrong notes—and Scene Episode begins in much the same mood of emotional serenity, which is not quite sustained. Bad Resolutions and Good WAN! Opens with a hymn but once more, characteristically, the peace is boldly interrupted.
The Three Quarter-Tone Pieces are aurally the most fascinating of all, more remarkably so as they are very listenable. Originally written in 1924 for a double keyboard microtonal piano, they are now usually played as a simultaneous piano duo, using two pianos, tuned a microtone apart. They really do ‘tweak the ear muscles’, the first bell-like, the second in wild ragtime, and the third boldly fantasizing on America ’tis of thee or God save the Queen (according to your nationality).
All in all, this makes a fine, characteristic anthology, splendidly realized...In many of the pieces Ives’s habit of including a phrase or two of deliberate banality amid the wildness adds piquancy, well caught in these performances from the New York-based group, Continuum. The instrumental piece Hallowe’en has a bass drum entry that takes you terrifyingly by surprise, helped by the vivid recording. The Take-offs (an expression Ives used as meaning improvisation) are simpler but just as original.
-- Penguin Guide
Viennese Transfigurations - Berg, Wally, & Zemlinsky
Three Vienna-born composers and four elective Viennese performers come together in four challenging and deeply layered compositions that span 120 years of Viennese musical history. The significance and impact of the works, however, radiate far beyond Vienna itself. At the same time, the live recording also reflects a moment in contemporary history, as the concert, originally planned to take place before a live audience, eventually took place on 17 May, 2021 solely as a streaming event at Vienna's Arnold Schoenberg Center, due to the restrictions enforced by the COVID 19 pandemic. The title of this recording, Viennese Transfigurations, is ambiguous. Three pieces are arrangements of earlier compositions for a quartet with the rather unusual line-up of violin, piano, clarinet and double bass, while the other was written for a trio of clarinet, violin and piano. Two arrangements are by the composers themselves, and two are by violinist Maxim Brilinsky. Each of the works has the facility to arouse the curiosity of the listeners right from the beginning, and all end softly.
Sinding: Piano Trios, Opp. 23, 64 & 87
Massonneau: 3 Duos Concertante, Op. 9
Attractive Classical-era duets for violin
and cello in world-premiere recordings
by a young Italian pair of brothers.
Despite his French name, Louis
Massonneau was a German composer,
born in Kassel in 1766 and dying at the
venerable age of 82 in MecklenburgVorpommern in 1848. His father was
chef to the Landgrave Friedrich II of
Hessen-Kassel, and Louis received his
musical training at the hands of the
court musicians in Kassel, soon
becoming a violinist in the court
orchestra. The Landgrave died when
Massonneau was 19, and the orchestra
disbanded, requiring him to seek his
fortune elsewhere. This he did in a
series of posts, as a concertmaster of
court and theatre orchestras in
Göttingen, Frankfurt, Altona, Dessau,
Hamburg and finally Mecklenburg, where he
settled for good and retired in 1837.
Composing all the while, Massonneau left
behind a fairly substantial catalogue. Almost
completely unknown apart from a trio of
oboe quartets, it includes three symphonies,
twelve symphonies and six violin concertos,
doubtless written with his own talents in
mind. These three Duos Concertante probably
date from Massonneau’s time in Altona, when
he came to know the cellist Martin Calmus.
Required to perform duets for the
entertainment of those attending ‘Musical
Academies’, Massonneau doubtless found a
dearth of such repertoire, and wrote it afresh.
Calmus himself must have been an
accomplished cellist, because both parts
demonstrate a virtuosity and experimental
spirit shared with the better-known music of
their contemporary Boccherini. Each duo is cast
in three movements, skilfully varied in form
from the others, in which lyrical expression is
tempered by a touch of irony. Haydnesque
touches of major-minor ambiguity lend
dramatic tension to the first duo, while a more
balletic spirit and Mozartian melodic charm
brings a quasi-operatic character to the second.
No.3 is the most innovative in its rapid
conversational interplay between violin and
cello and unconventional range of timbre.
Demian and Dylan Baraldi have made this
recording with the cooperation of the Edition
Massonneau, and authoritative booklet notes
from the Edition illuminate the composer’s life
and work.
Stabat - Part, MacMillan & Vasks / Ross, Dmitri Ensemble, Clair College Choir Cambridge
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REVIEW:
Recordings of Arvo Pärt’s music continue to flourish, and no one seems to tire of hearing (or performing) Magnificat or The Woman with the Alabaster Box, Nunc dimittis, or Da pacem, Domine–all of which are included here and stand among the most frequently represented on disc (a couple of dozen instances for Magnificat). Yet, it’s no surprise as to why these works are so popular, their uniquely appealing qualities–of sound, of melody, of harmonic architecture and movement–effecting a sense of timelessness that confers on them a remarkable immunity from wear.
Pärt and his music also benefit from the fact that most of the recordings offer excellent performances, and this one is no exception. In fact, these are among the very best in the catalog: these young, exceptionally well-trained, expert choral musicians, recorded primarily in the special ambiance, tempered by stone, glass, and light, of Ely Cathedral’s Lady Chapel, leave nothing to be desired in their expression of Pärt’s unique, sensuous realizations of sound and silence. This was the venue for so many of the acclaimed recordings by John Rutter and his Cambridge Singers–and, guess who happens to be producer, engineer, and editor of this project: yes, none other than Rutter himself, and the sonic excellence on display here is the result of someone in command who knows the strengths and foibles of that large acoustic space (stand here, place the microphone there). And so, we need not worry at all about the recorded sound of the singing.
But while Pärt may be the “draw” (he gets top billing on the disc cover), it’s actually James MacMillan who likely will leave listeners with the more lasting impression–and induce many repeated hearings–with his Miserere, for mixed a cappella choir. Every now and then a modern choral work does a rare thing: it sets the listener on a path and–voilá–takes him or her just where it promises to take them. No set-up for sudden expectation-be-damned surprise. When you get to the end of this 12-minute-plus piece, you feel you’ve been respected, as an intelligent listener, with both knowledge and feeling, one who is aware of both the conventions and perversions of musical style, who loves beauty and truth in the expression, in whatever form, language, or context it may be presented.
In this case, MacMillan exploits his available musical material with free references to Pärtian style and in his inclusion of the famous Miserere of Allegri, quoting directly and indirectly, while creating a wholly original work that sticks to the path, occasionally goes off on its own seemingly diversionary trail, but always comes back, the “diversion” now realized as an integral bridge to the very satisfying conclusion. And, I have to say that rather than hear the zillionth performance of the Allegri–endless, often vocally tedious, difficult to stage–I am happier to hear MacMillan’s canny referential episodes in this extraordinary work. The excellent performance is marred only by one brief passage of faulty intonation from a soloist.
The usual pairing of MacMillan’s Miserere on recordings is, no surprise, with Allegri’s setting–which of course isn’t just his, but also the work of subsequent elaborators. Here, besides the Pärt works, we get a 15-minute piece by Latvian composer Peteris Vasks: Plainscapes, for mixed choir, violin, and cello. While this work is undoubtedly worthy for its craft and effective use of “wordless” vocal techniques, a “tapestry of abstract sound” (as described in the liner notes) to depict a “sonic journey across [Vasks’] native country”, it’s an odd choice for inclusion on this program. The completely different style, the sound-effects, the secular context–it doesn’t fit. It’s a disruption, although a very well-performed one. Fortunately you have the choice to skip it–and even if you don’t, the rest of the music will soon convince you that you did.
– ClassicsToday.com (David Vernier)
Romantic Trumpet Sonatas / Freeman-attwood
'He somehow manages to combine ringing clarity with creamy smoothness, pin-point intonation and effortless agility.' International Record Review
'Outstanding playing with a dynamic range of lively dialogue and solo lyricism in virtuoso style.' The Observer
'A multi-talented trumpeter.' BBC Music Magazine
Renowned for his outstanding technical and musical ability, as well as his unique re-workings of chamber repertoire, this latest album from Jonathan Freeman-Attwood introduces some fresh and unusual arrangements of well-known Romantic music for the under-explored medium of trumpet and piano duo.
The choice of Mendelssohn and Schumann, originally written for cello and violin respectively, allows Freeman-Attwood to demonstrate the melodic lyricism of the instrument as well as the thrilling execution a brass instrument can bring to intricate passage-work.
Grieg?s Holberg Suite has attracted arrangers since its composition; the opening Preludium is a brilliant vehicle for the trumpet and piano, fully showcasing the skills of the duo that have honed their skills over three albums.
These new transcriptions are beyond anything previously imagined for trumpet; they expand the boundaries of the trumpet as a solo instrument and deserve to take their place in the standard repertoire for the instrument.
As a trumpet player, Jonathan Freeman-Attwood has performed and recorded both as a soloist and as a member of various ensembles and has attracted plaudits from the press for his solo recordings.
Jonathan broadcasts regularly for BBC Radio 3 and is Principal of the Royal Academy of Music in London.
South African born Daniel-Ben Pienaar is an award-winning pianist whose live performances and recordings have won him widespread acclaim: 'a kaleidoscope of colours and textures' (International Piano).
Track Listing:
Edvard Grieg
1. Holberg Suite, Op. 40 - Praeludium
2. Holberg Suite, Op. 40 - Sarabande
3. Holberg Suite, Op. 40 - Gavotte
4. Holberg Suite, Op. 40 - Air
5. Holberg Suite, Op. 40 - Rigaudon
Robert Schumann
6. Sonata No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105 - Mit leidenschaftlichem Ausdruck
7. Sonata No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105 - Allegretto
8. Sonata No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105 - Lebhaft
Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy
9. Sonata No. 2 in D Major, Op. 58 - Allegro assai vivace
10. Sonata No. 2 in D Major, Op. 58 - Allegretto scherzando
11. Sonata No. 2 in D Major, Op. 58 - Adagio
12. Sonata No. 2 in D Major, Op. 58 - Molto allegro e vivace
Karl Pilss
13. Sonata for Trumpet and Piano - Allegro appassionato
14. Sonata for Trumpet and Piano - Adagio, molto cantabile
15. Sonata for Trumpet and Piano - Allegro agitato
Total Timing: 70 minutes
KATCHEN: THE BRAHMS RECORDINGS ON DECCA
Martucci, Casella & Clementi: Chamber Trios / Hèsperos Piano Trio
A plunge among the sunken composers of Italian chamber music and the salvaged ones. The program recorded in this album is a ticket for a journey of a century and a half, that is the distance between the composition of the Sonata “con accompagnamento” by Muzio Clementi (1792) and its transformation into the Trio ortodosso by Alfredo Casella (1936). An intermediate stop is represented by the Trio op. 59 by Giuseppe Martucci (1882). The route of this journey retraces a history that is not unimportant or unsurprising: it summarises the significance and vicissitudes of the chamber music produced by Italian composers from the middle of the eighteenth century onwards. In many texts of music history this topic is relegated in a note, or at most is dealt with in a paragraph, not even a chapter: an upgraded echo of the Fascist nationalism and dislike for Puccini that, for ideological reasons rather than for a historical or critical conviction, made themselves useful in raising the issue in the twentieth century. This recording, which presents a performance for piano, violin and cello, is a tiny artistic compensation, and an aesthetic and formal clarification. It leads us to consider and understand the role that Italian composers played also in the specific area of non-theatrical music.
Mozart: 45 Symphonies / Adam Fischer, Danish National Chamber Orchestra
MOZART Symphonies Nos. 1, 4–31, 33–36, 39–41. Symphonies, K 19a, 42a, 45a–b, 73l–n, 73q, 111b • Ádám Fischer, cond; Danish Natl CO • DACAPO 8.201201 (12 CDs: 716:42)
I mentioned in my review of a single disc from this series, which included symphonies Nos. 28–30 (Fanfare 34:4), that I didn’t think that Ádám Fischer’s performances captured “Mozart’s drama as well as they capture his elegance,” but added the caveat that it’s difficult to gauge an entire series of symphonies by one CD. Alas, in later reviewing the disc including symphonies Nos. 31, 33, and 34, I had the opposite feeling, that Fischer was making a “race to the finish line” and playing the symphonies too quickly. Now, as it so happened, I reviewed those two discs about two years apart, and so did not have the first still on hand to compare to the second, or to think about the differences in approach. But now I have the full set of 45 symphonies to review, and my feelings have changed. Now I am inclined to agree with Patrick Rucker, who gave a rave review to the single disc of symphonies Nos. 15–18 in Fanfare 31:1 (a disc reviewed, I believe, before I joined the magazine staff), stating that he was “grasping for superlatives.”
The difference? Listening to the entire series in chronological sequence. By doing so, I noted that, despite an overall theatrical approach to these symphonies (in the liner notes, Fischer admits that he tends to think of orchestral music “operatically,” i.e., finding a dramatic theme or thread in the music that he then tries to bring out), he does make distinctions between the earlier and the later symphonies. Reducing his approach to a few basics, he plays the earlier symphonies with equal drama and electricity but with far fewer changes in dynamics and fewer rubato touches. In addition, I was able to download the scores of four of the symphonies—two of the most famous late works (40 and 41) and two early symphonies (Nos. 5 and 15, chosen pretty much at random)—and although these are not up-to-date, verified, Urtext scores like the ones Fischer worked from, they do include dynamics markings. And, as any number of conductors of the past have mentioned, they do not tell you what to do between the forte here and the piano four or six bars later (or vice versa). You are expected to follow your own good taste in approaching them.
Perhaps another deciding factor for me was in hearing Philippe Herreweghe’s more dynamic performances of symphonies Nos. 39 and 41 and, believe it or not, Bruno Walter’s historic performances of symphonies Nos. 39–41. Despite Walter’s slower tempos (and richer string sound), he actually elicited much more nuance and detail from those symphonies than did Jaap ter Linden, whose set I gave a good review to and suggested at the time that it was a fine historically-informed set of the Mozart symphonies. But, to be honest, what really sold me on Fischer’s approach were his performances of the early, lesser-known, oft-neglected, and unnumbered symphonies. Each and every one of them sounded as if it was just bursting with excitement, yet not too much that it overpowered the music on the printed page.
Moreover, what struck me in the single disc of symphonies 31, 33 and 34 as too fast now, suddenly, made sense in context. And, for the several Toscanini-bashers out there, I found it almost comical to note that Fischer takes the Finale of the “Jupiter” Symphony at virtually the same tempo that they consider “too fast.” The difference, of course, is that musicians of the 1940s and 50s weren’t used to playing Mozart this swiftly, and so they tended to sound pressed, whereas Fischer’s Danish National Chamber Orchestra skips through the music deftly and nimbly, like snow rabbits dashing across the landscape. It’s the comfort level of the executants that makes the difference, then, not the “wrong” tempo.
A good example of Fischer’s approach is CD 3, where he presents no less that four symphonies in a row that are all in the key of D Major (K 73l, m, n, and q). It would have been very easy for him, and the orchestra, to simply slip into an all-purpose style for these works, which of course would make them sound pretty much the same, yet he continually varies his approach from work to work. I do, however, caution the listener to approach this set one CD at a time. That is what I did, listening on consecutive nights to only one CD per evening, and it worked out pretty well. You get a better feel for the magnitude of Fischer’s achievement that way, and you are being fairer to both him and the Danish orchestra, whose players helped prod him on to take chances with the music and do things differently from the norm. After all, this was a seven-year project for them. These symphonies did not just get all rehearsed and recorded within a year or two.
I should also point out the work that went into Symphony No. 15, one of the four I obtained scores of. In the notes, Fischer asserts that if this work had not been by Mozart, who wrote so many symphonies and so many of good quality, it would probably be a much better known work, possibly a repertoire staple. Just reading the score, the music does look promising but certainly not brilliant. The first movement, for instance, is in a quick 3/4 time, featuring a jagged melody with the usual wide-ranging melodic leaps. From the first bar, the dynamics marking is forte, which changes to piano at bar 13, then back to forte at bar 22, piano again at bar 25, forte on the first beat of bar 30 with a sudden fp on the second beat (a half note played by the oboes, trumpets, and first violins, while the second violins play 16ths and the violas, cellos, and basses play eighth notes). It’s all pretty cut-and-dry, you might say, and this is how most conductors play it. Fischer adds a little burst of extra volume at the top of bar 5, when the agitated strings play against long-held notes by oboes and trumpets, and there are all sorts of little gradations of sound in various places, including slight crescendos to emphasize the musical drama. More interestingly, none of this sounds particularly fussy; if you didn’t have the score in front of you, or if you hadn’t heard any number of flat-response historically-informed performances, you’d think that this is simply the way the music goes. Toscanini once said it isn’t the f here or the p there that’s difficult to gauge, but what to do in between. Sadly, Toscanini paid little attention to most of Mozart’s symphonies because, except for the last three, he found most of them boring: “Is always beautiful, but always the same!” In Fischer’s performances, nothing is “always the same.” In the Andante of this Symphony, for instance, there are no dynamics markings at all, yet Fischer plays it at a moderate mp with further gradations down to p or pp and back again. By such means does he create and sustain interest.
The notes also explain the reason why the music sounds so vibrant and alive: His string players all use steel strings, which gives the music a consistently “edgy” quality that reveals, as Fischer put it, Mozart’s “earthily honest side.” The more you think about it, the more this makes sense, since Mozart was strongly influenced by both Haydn and C. P. E. Bach, both of whom exploited an earthy, dramatic quality in their symphonies.
Probably the most difficult aspect of the earlier symphonies to overcome was the monotony of orchestration. Clarinets, horns, and other instruments only begin to appear in Mozart’s symphonies later on; earlier, the composer had to rely on his ingenuity of counter-rhythms and occasional harmonic changes to sustain interest, and unlike Haydn, Mozart almost invariably sought the widest possible popularity for his music (perhaps one of the reasons why Toscanini found it “always the same”). Yet, as the notes also point out, in Mozart’s day no one bothered to listen to music more than three years old as a rule. It was all about what was new, not what had come before. No one gave a hoot back then about “historical performance practice” because they didn’t want it and wouldn’t have listened if you gave it to them.
I still feel that occasional movements, such as the Andantes of the “Paris” Symphony and No. 39, are a shade too fast for my taste, but in the context of Fischer’s overall musical conception what he plays works very well. I can now accept what I hear in those later symphonies because my tolerance was built up through what he did with the numerous early works. In short, I have taken this symphonic journey with Fischer, the only difference being that I did it in 12 nights rather than in seven years.
I have now replaced the Jaap ter Linden set of Mozart symphonies on my shelf with this one. I strongly urge you to give them a listen and see if you don’t agree.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Torchinsky: Orion
Rorem: Double Concerto, After Reading Shakespeare
What keeps this disc from getting the highest rating is an admittedly personal issue, one that you may not share. After Reading Shakespeare, a suite for solo cello, was also written for Sharon Robinson, and it is very sympathetically performed (listen, for example, to how vividly she characterizes "Titania and Oberon"). Nevertheless, the pairing of an orchestral piece with this most chamber-like of chamber compositions strikes me as unconvincing, coming as it does after the concerto. In his notes Rorem emphasizes the fact that the movement titles of this piece should not be taken literally, the music having preceded some of them. If so, then why use them at all? And why suggest as opening and closing movements such weighty subjects as "Lear" and "Othello and Iago"? They really beg the question of whether or not Rorem's inspiration is up to Shakespeare's, and we don't want to go there, do we? There are times when composers might do better to resist the temptation to offer verbal clues, even if they are perfectly valid ones. Still and all, the music and performances themselves are self-recommending to the composer's many admirers, and on that basis I can recommend this fine new release without further qualification.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
