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Rosner: Orchestral Music, Vol. 3 / Palmer, London Philharmonic Orchestra
Toccata · Jan 2019CD$20.99 -
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SaleNielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4 / Gilbert, New York Philharmonic
Dacapo Classical · Sep 2014SACD$16.99$8.49 -
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Piano Music by Still & Other Black Composers / Monica Gaylord
Music and Arts Programs of America · Jul 2013CD$19.99 -
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Segovia & Contemporaries Vol. 15 / Lago, Collado, Segovia, Trio Albéniz del Alhambra
Doremi · Aug 2022CD$20.99 -
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SaleHandel: Water Music; Mozart: Symphonies 36 & 38 / Munch, Boston Symphony
ICA Classics · Feb 2012DVD$26.99$20.99 -
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All'opera - Roberto Alagna: Complete Opera Recordings on Warner Classics
WARNER CLASSICS · Nov 2024CD$120.49 -
Elgar: Sea Pictures, Polonia & Pomp and Circumstances Marches / Halle
Premiered in 1899, shortly after the triumph of the Enigma Variations in London the previous month, Sea Pictures became an immediate hit (with two of the songs being performed with piano accompaniment for Queen Victoria at Balmoral two weeks after the premiere). The cycle of five songs for which Elgar selected a variety of poems from his wide knowledge of literature, features a range of masterly orchestral textures and stunning vocal settings.
The featured soloist is world renowned mezzo soprano Alice Coote, regarded as one of the leading artists of our day, equally famed on the great operatic stages as in concert and recital.
Polonia has long been overlooked but this recording will re-establish this highly engaging tone poem which quotes Polish tunes and Chopin, written as a tribute to Poland’s contribution to the Allied cause in the First World War, in a brilliantly orchestrated score.
Not all of the five original Pomp and Circumstance Marches are as universally well known as No.1 and No.4 and, although constructed on the same structural pattern, they display an extraordinary variety of character. These orchestral showcases are a perfect vehicle with which to display the technical and artistic skill of the Hallé under Elder.
Mozart: Piano Trios, Divertimento In B Flat K 254 / Kungsbacka Trio
MOZART Divertimento in B?, K 254. Piano Trios: No. 1; No. 3 • Kungsbacka Tr • NAXOS 8.570518 (63:28)
While the string quartet and piano trio almost certainly originated in earlier Baroque models, Franz Joseph Haydn is generally credited with having established both of them as permanent, formalized fixtures, if by no other measure than sheer dint of his voluminous output. At latest tally, Haydn’s piano trios number 45, though in the late 1970s, when the Beaux Arts Trio set out to record its monumental œuvre intégral for Philips, there were 43; and in a more recent period-instruments set from the Van Swieten Trio on Brilliant Classics that calls itself “complete” the total seems to have dwindled to 37. I suppose one could explain away the discrepancy based on an interpretation of what constitutes a piano trio; for clearly Haydn’s earliest efforts in the medium (he began writing trios as early as 1766 and continued as late as 1797) resemble more closely the trio sonata from which the piano trio most likely evolved.
No such ambiguities or count controversies exist when it comes to Mozart’s piano trios; for there are only six of them, and of those, all but one were written late in the composer’s life, between 1786 and 1788, a period that saw the creation of some of his greatest works. And yet, the trios have long been consigned to a seat at the back of the bus. It’s understandable, I suppose, to regard the modest forces of a piano trio as Lilliputian compared to the cast of singers and players to be marshaled for a performance of The Marriage of Figaro , completed in the same year as the G-Major Trio. But if you listen closely to these miniature masterpieces, you will hear the mature Mozart at work, with all of the perfection of craftsmanship and subtleties of melodic and harmonic expression to be found in the scores dating from the composer’s last five years.
That Mozart had the advantage of Haydn’s trios as models meant that he did not have to reinvent the wheel; it was ready-made for him to adopt and advance. Haydn had to learn how to free the cello from its trio sonata role of merely doubling the left hand of the keyboard part. Even in Mozart’s first foray into the medium, his 1776 B?-Major Divertimento, K 254, much of the time the cello still plays Doppelganger to the bass line. But by the time he came to write his five mature piano trios, Mozart had absorbed and in some ways surpassed what he learned from Haydn. I would not be prepared to claim, however, that the works in this medium, either by Haydn or by Mozart, prognosticate the piano trio’s future in the hands of Beethoven; for its transformation by Beethoven into a supersized and supercharged vessel for dramatic and expressive communication would cement its permanence, along with that of the string quartet, as the most populous and significant chamber music genre even unto the present day.
The 11-year-old Kungsbacka Trio (Malin Broman, violin; Jesper Svedberg, cello; and Simon Crawford-Phillips, piano) was formed in 1997 and takes its name from the Swedish town that hosted its first public performance in 2001. The current release, designated by Naxos as Volume 1, promises a follow-on disc containing Mozart’s remaining three trios. As of this writing, however, the Kungsbacka Trio has made only two other recordings—Schubert’s great E?-Major Piano Trio, also for Naxos, and for BIS a program of works by contemporary Swedish composer Karin Rehnqvist.
Despite the modest scale and the less than crown-jewel worth accorded these trios, there has been no dearth of high-profile ensembles that have committed them to disc, among them the always trustworthy Beaux Arts Trio, long available in a budget twofer from Philips, as well as more recent entries from the Florestan and Parnassus Trios on Hyperion and MDG respectively, and my own personal favorite from the Gryphon Trio on Analekta. Not to slight the period-instruments buffs, there’s also the Trio Stradivari on cpo and the London Fortepiano Trio on Hyperion.
The Kungsbacka Trio is a modern-instruments ensemble, but it plays stylishly and tastefully. Translation: articulation is crisp, vibrato is minimal, tempos are spirited in allegro movements and forward moving in andante movements, open strings are not avoided, and first-movement exposition repeats are taken.
For those who don’t already have one or more versions of these trios in their collections and/or who are not uncompromising advocates for period instruments, the Kungsbacka Trio can be recommended for very fine playing, and Naxos’s recording, at a price that can’t be beat, is excellent. A most satisfying first installment of Mozart’s six piano trios; I look forward to its completion.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Rosner: Orchestral Music, Vol. 3 / Palmer, London Philharmonic Orchestra
The musical language of the New York-based Arnold Rosner (1945–2013) had its roots in the modal harmony and rhythm of pre-Baroque polyphony and evolved in an array of unusual directions, producing a style that is instantly recognizable and immediately appealing – as can be heard in the three works on this recording. Rosner’s Nocturne suggests the immensity – and the implacable violence – of outer space, whereas his overture Tempus Perfectum has its starting point in Renaissance dance. The monumental Sixth Symphony opens with music of volcanic ferocity and vehemence; the central Adagio then provides an island of troubled calm before the dignified opening of the finale presages a symphonic Allegro of wild, freewheeling energy; only when its immense force is spent does this powerful masterpiece sink to an uneasy close.
REVIEWS:
I first came across Arnold Rosner’s music on a 1990 Harmonia Mundi Modern Masters CD of tonal American 20th Century music, reviewed here and here (in a later reissue), and now available only as a download or second-hand. The work recorded there, the Responses, Hosanna and Fugue, was so evidently influenced by Vaughan Williams’s Tallis Fantasia that I was intrigued, to say the least.
This disc begins with the Nocturne Op.68, in which Rosner sought to suggest the movement of planetary bodies in the vastness of space. He tried to do this by initially evoking a mysterious swirling atmosphere that is occasionally interrupted by violent outbursts. Melodic fragments gradually coalesce into a melody for strings, which is further developed and intensified by the inclusion of the rest of the orchestra. Like many such ‘descriptive’ pieces composed over the last 150 years, one would never guess at the underlying creative stimulus, but that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.
It is followed by Tempus Perfectum: A Concert Overture. Its archaic title reflects Rosner’s modern adaptation of a medieval form in 98 metre. Rosner was interested in early music and here he uses a type of canzona notable for its markedly rhythmic material and separation into distinct sections. The effect is of triads superimposed on the main theme at various points, and the work, which sounds markedly antique, gradually achieves a much more modern climax on (predominantly) strings and trumpets, before dying away.
The most impressive work on this superlatively recorded and performed CD, is Rosner’s 6th Symphony. Its first movement is one of extreme emotional turbulence, represented by ferociously explosive rather angular music that lasts for its ten-minute duration. I am strongly reminded of the first movement of the Vaughan Williams Fourth Symphony, although Rosner is not quite so dour.
I don’t think there can be much doubt that throughout the Symphony this influence persists, and the Sinfonia Antartica informs the second, slow movement. In fact, I am indelibly reminded of the ‘Landscape’ movement of the RVW work. Having said that, Rosner doesn’t quite manage to conjure up the stupefying power so evident in the Antartica, despite a slightly more colorful orchestral palette and a willingness to use the tam-tam almost to abandon. RVW brings an organ to the shattering climax of his symphony, but an organ is one instrument not employed by Rosner. The movement begins in a hushed atmosphere, with a slightly oriental sounding theme. This is developed towards the emotional centre of the movement where the composer’s use of strings (to emphasize the melody) is gradually superseded by the appearance of woodwind, brass and percussion to great effect.
His gift of writing impactive and indeed, memorable music, is very noticeable throughout the work, but particularly so in this movement and in the last, where RVW in ‘galumphing’ mode makes an appearance early on. A reliance on the cymbals and later, the tam-tam disturbs me a little – this is a trait that is very evident in the works of some contemporary American tonal composers, perhaps influenced, however subconsciously, by film music. Notwithstanding, since I love the sound of cymbals and tam-tam in a sumptuous orchestral panoply, I will remain only very slightly disturbed and revel in the sheer orchestral splendour of the whole thing. The final five minutes or so of the last movement begin with an ethereal woodwind solo, which appears repeatedly, sometimes on the brass, only to be interrupted by cataclysmic eruptions. The movement fades into silence with quiet recollections of earlier themes.
Throughout this CD the recording is truly splendiferous and the playing of the LPO is virtuosic beyond praise. It must be wonderful to hear these pieces performed live by this top-notch orchestra under the baton of a committed conductor, such as we have here in Nick Palmer. The booklet is detailed and informative in both biographical and musical detail. Toccata Classics are to be congratulated and praised for this release, consisting as it does entirely of first recordings. I look forward to others in the series.
-- MusicWeb International (Jim Westhead)
Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4 / Gilbert, New York Philharmonic
REVIEW:
These are strong, exciting performances of symphonies that demand the sort of bold muscularity in their execution that these artists offer. In Alan Gilbert’s hands the First Symphony sounds extremely confident and wholly mature. It starts with a bang and the tension in the first movement never lets up. The playing of the New York Philharmonic throughout is fresh and unaffected, full of spirit and drive. Even the Andante flows purposefully forward, and contrasts nicely with the Allegro comodo that does duty for a scherzo–with its harmonic kinks so personal to Nielsen. The finale has the same “pedal to the metal” drive as the opening, bringing the performance to a rousing conclusion.
The performance of the “Inextinguishable” Fourth Symphony also features some really impressive energy and power. In the first movement the brass play with a precision and clarity that few other versions can match, and in the finale the dueling timpani compete with real bravura. The slow movement here reminds me of Shostakovich in its bleak intensity, and my only quibble with Gilbert’s interpretation concerns the symphony’s coda where, like most of his colleagues, Gilbert broadens the pace in the closing bars when Nielsen clearly wants to drive the music home in tempo. Gilbert does pull it off: with an orchestra that has the weight and strength of the New York Philharmonic the effect is convincing, but Gibson (on Chandos) remains unmatched here.
Dacapo’s engineering, as with the previous release in this series, is natural and very present. The woodwinds feel just slightly recessed in more fully scored sections, but I can attest that the music really does sound like this in actual performance with a large orchestra, and certainly nothing gets lost. More importantly, the engineers have captured the impression of a live performance, caught on the wing, and the audience is mercifully quiet. This is a very impressive release.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Grandes Pièces Symphoniques / Ian Tracey
The CD opens with a display piece which is much more than just display: the whole disc might well have been devised to demonstrate that there is much more to the great French organ tradition than just a mighty sound. Much of the music is quiet and reflective and the bravura works, like this Tournemire improvisation, have more to offer than glorious sound.
This is one of the improvisations which Tournemire recorded and which were subsequently transcribed by Duruflé. Tournemire insisted that improvisations could not and should not be recaptured but this Improvisation on the Te Deum is a fine piece, worthy of preservation. The CD notes attribute this work to L’Orgue mystique, a cycle of 51 pieces on Gregorian themes for the major festivals of the liturgical year but, whereas that work consists of improvisation-like pieces which Tournemire actually wrote down, the Te Deum improvisation was not written down until Duruflé’s labour of love in transcribing it 28 years later.
Duruflé’s transcription in Ian Tracey’s hands almost persuades one that one is hearing the actual process of improvisation, yet at the same time the playing is totally assured. The Liverpool organ may not be a Cavaillé-Coll, but it is a fine instrument.
Only careful listening identifies the plainsong tune of the Te Deum but that is part of the art of composing such pieces. Bach sometimes buries his chorale melodies fairly deeply in his preludes and Duruflé’s own music based on plainsong themes sometimes requires a deal of detective work. Try his Four motets on Gregorian themes, coupled with his own performance of his gorgeous, Fauré-inspired Requiem and his Mass Cum jubilo on Apex 2564 61139 2, a budget-price distillation of two Erato CDs which have long been in my collection.
The two short pieces by Bonnet which follow are fairly insubstantial but they make an excellent bridge between the display of the Tournemire and the Saint-Saëns improvisation, itself an exercise in virtuosity which receives a glorious free-wheeling performance from Tracey. There is very little Saint-Saëns organ music in the record catalogues; a performance like this reminds us that there is much more to him than The Carnival of the Animals, as I have pointed out in my recent review of two of his Piano Concertos. (Jean-Yves Thibaudet with the OSR under Charles Dutoit on Decca 475 8764).
The title of Franck’s Grande Pièce Symphonique, which is used as the generic name of the CD as a whole, implies employment of the big guns but, in fact, the dominant mood of this piece is restrained, with frequent markings of dolce, pp and even ppp. The opening andante serioso is subdued and reflective: Tracey captures the serioso mood here as well as the mood of the succeeding allegro section, faster but still no troppo e maestoso. The notes in the booklet compare the opening section to a processional but I was put more in mind of a hushed and expectant congregation awaiting the start of Vespers.
In the quiet and reflective andante opening of the second movement, too, the image conjured up is of the preparation for an important service – a role which Tracey, in his capacity at Liverpool Cathedral, will have performed many times. He captures all these quiet passages extremely effectively, especially in those sections marked cantando, and the recording registers every detail, with individual manual- and pedal-parts coming over very clearly. The Liverpool reverberation is kept to a minimum.
The finale also opens pp, but with a hint of a storm to come. When those bigger guns finally arrive, in the wonderful fugue and the concluding outburst of joy, they are all the more effective for having been kept so long in reserve – and for Franck’s retaining a considerable degree of restraint even when they do fire. This is certainly not a showpiece for the sake of mere show and Tracey shows admirable restraint where a lesser organist might well have gone overboard. These grander moments are also very well captured by the engineers, even in normal stereo. One is again aware of the resonance of the building without its ever interfering with the clarity of the recording.
Those seeking to expand their knowledge of Franck’s organ music will inevitably reduplicate the Grande pièce, albeit at bargain price and on French organs. Either Jennifer Bate on the Beauvais organ (Regis RRC2054) or Marie-Claire Alain on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Caen (Apex 2564 61428 2) will do very nicely. Both are 2-CD sets selling for around £9 in the UK.
The Gigout Scherzo provides a lighter, capricious moment before the Widor: delicacy of touch is paramount here and this Tracey very ably provides.
The Widor Symphony is not the one with the Toccata: that is No.5, already recorded in full by Tracey on CHAN9271. Listeners may welcome the chance to get away from that ubiquitous piece and at the same time hear another of his symphonies in its entirety: the Fourth Symphony is as good a piece as any to choose. Don’t expect these works, despite their title, to sound too symphonic: they are more like a suite than a symphony. Again Tracey’s chief rival in this work is Marie-Claire Alain’s authoritative account on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Saint Germain (Warner Elatus 2564 60341 2, at mid-price).
Franck left his big guns till the end of his Grande Pièce; the Widor Symphony does the opposite, starting with a fff marking at the beginning of the opening Toccata. This is a big movement – by definition a Toccata is designed to show off the player’s expertise in ‘touching’ the keys. (From Italian toccare, to touch.) Tracey makes the Toccata sound big without being entirely overwhelming and without setting off too much reverberation: if anything, I might have wanted him to sound just a little more ferocious. The Fugue begins quietly with the 16’ pedal tone which the score calls for held in restraint; the effect is ethereal.
The third movement, marked dolce, opens even more ethereally, with the pp organ barely audible. This is the best-known movement, often played as a separate piece. The booklet compares it to Daquin’s Noëls but, having recently reviewed an excellent Hyperion Helios reissue of the Noëls (CDH 55319) I have to say that the relationship is a distant one apart from the cantabile nature of the music, excellently captured by Tracey. The central section, written in four staves – i.e. with two sets of pedal parts – is fiendishly difficult but Tracey, with art that conceals art, makes it sound effortless.
The Scherzo and Adagio are again gentle movements, the pp opening of each setting the tone. The mood of the Adagio anticipates that of Fauré’s Requiem by twenty-one years. Tracey’s nimble playing in the Scherzo, his lighter touch in the Adagio and the recording are once more absolutely first class.
It is a mark of a fine recording not only that it captures the loudest moments without distortion but that it makes an equally good job of registering music on the threshold of hearing. The Chandos engineers score in both respects on this CD – just don’t try to play it in the car: the volume required for the quieter movements to register would place you in the head-bangers’ league in the louder movements.
The Finale begins fff, a marking which recurs at several points in the movement. The big guns are unleashed at the start but Widor is careful again not to make the effect too overwhelming and Tracey’s playing contributes to the comparative restraint, especially in the central part of this movement. The closing bars bring a confident conclusion to the work, confidently executed.
I have already indicated that the recording is first-class even in stereo. In SACD surround-format I am sure that the ambience of Liverpool Cathedral is perfectly captured, albeit without too much of the reverberation of this building.
I’m going for broke and nominating this my Recording of the Month. I cannot imagine a better place to start to get to know the French organ repertoire – unless it should be one of Ian Tracey’s other recordings in this series. Lovers of the genre should place their orders at once.
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Oscar Shumsky: A Retrospective
Featured Artists:
Oscar Shumsky: violin/Maureen Forrester: alto/Lois Marshall: soprano/Nadia Reisenberg piano/James Melton: tenor/Mario Bernardi: piano/Primrose String Quartet.
The 3 CD set also features arrangements of unspecified arias from Cantatas No. 120 & 132 by Bach and unspecified songs by Rachmaninov.
Domenico Scarlatti: Complete Piano Sonatas, Vol. 11
The admirable qualities of Ullrich’s earlier Mozart and Schubert releases often inform his Scarlatti, starting with the rhythmic kick and well-turned ornaments in the two opening D major sonatas. Ullrich’s firm and deliberate F minor K. 365 proves equally rewarding alongside faster, lighter piano versions from Serge Babyan and Yevgeny Sudbin. However, Konstantin Scherbakov bests Ullrich’s K. 360 for linear independence.
Ullrich takes the E-flat K. 371 Allegro directive with a grain of salt, and employs changes of color and pace to illuminate the music’s unpredictable harmonic shifts, whereas Maurizio Baglini is fast, harder hitting, and just a few feet short of reckless. The adjacent B minor K. 376/377 pair are sensitively phrased, although Ullrich’s F major K. 378 seems a trifle prosaic next to Fou Ts’ong’s brighter, more unpredictably accented reading, while his relatively flat and generic K. 380 pales in comparison with individually gripping interpreters of this popular sonata such as Horowitz, Lipatti, and the unusually slow yet mesmerizing David Greilsammer.
Ullrich’s clear and shapely delineation of the F minor K. 386’s busy, toccata-like writing is perfectly fine on its own terms, but Christian Zacharias’ suppler touch elevates this approach to a higher level, albeit a few notches below Clara Haskil’s breathtakingly fast yet perfectly controlled 1950 Westminster recording. Though less striking on the surface than Mikhail Pletnev’s spiky, aggressive K. 387, Ullrich’s suaver, faster, and more graceful performance is easier to digest. In a nutshell, Ullrich’s Scarlatti is never less than good, if not so consistently outstanding as Carlo Grante’s ongoing Scarlatti cycle on Music & Arts.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Aldridge: Sister Carrie / Florentine Opera
Described by Opera News as “an important addition to the American operatic canon,” Sister Carrie takes as its themes the lure of money and social standing. Robert Aldridge’s inventive score is richly melodic and unapologetically tonal. Herschel Garfein’s libretto is based on Theodore Dreiser’s groundbreaking 1900 novel, which depicts a small-town girl’s tortuous path to fame and her lover’s abject descent into despair. Aldridge and Garfein’s Elmer Gantry was a two-time Grammy Award winner. Here, the lead roles are played by Mezzo-soprano Adriana Zabala, baritone Keith Phares, tenor Matt Morgan, and soprano Alisa Suzanne Jordheim.
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REVIEW:
Robert Aldrige’s Sister Carrie is obviously one of the most important additions to America’s present day operatic repertoire. The music is purely tonal and traditionally consists of solo arias, duets and ensembles, it general tenure remaining in the world of mainstream popular opera. Based on the novel by Theodore Dreiser, the plot, too complex to detail here, examines the need for women in the early 20th-Century to use anything — sexual attractions being a good starting point — if they want to climb the social scale, not concerning themselves too much who they hurt on the way up.
In the part of Carrie, the American mezzo Adriana Zabala sings with a dramatic intensity that is ideal for this ‘nothing will stop me’ girl. Keith Phares, as the ill-fated Hurstwood, has a warm baritone voice, and his two joined arias as the central point in the second act are deeply moving. As a foil the light tenor of Matt Morgan makes an ideal Charlie Drouet, who has the good fortune of escaping her clutches. In the cameo role of the socialite, Mrs. Vance, Ariana Douglas, is outstanding, with Alisa Suzzane Jordheim as a vibrant actress, Lola Sterling.
– David's Review Corner (David Denton)
Piano Music by Still & Other Black Composers / Monica Gaylord
Howard Swanson's The Cuckoo is a light, gay scherzo and trio, with the bird cuckooing away in one hand while the other flies all over the keyboard. Robert Nathaniel Dett (1882-1943) studied with Nadia Boulanger, earned degrees from Oberlin and Eastman, conducted choral societies, performed before presidents, and was awarded honorary doctorates from Harvard and Oberlin. His In the Bottoms depicts “black man's slave camps at the river's edge.“ The five pieces go from somber contemplation to a gay dance. Ulysses Kay's three Inventions are brief, formal pieces. John Wesley Work, Jr., studied at Columbia and Yale and became chairman of the music department at Fisk University. His Big Bunch of Roses starts with a Negro folk tune and develops in a colorful and relaxed way. Oscar Peterson's The Gentle Waltz is languorous and jazzy and sweet, Duke Ellington's Come Sunday is a soft, flowing hymn with a touch of the blues; both pieces are played in arrangements by jazz pianist Denny McErlain.
Samuel Coleridge-Taylor was another master composer; every work of his I have heard is at least worthy, often inspired. His suite of three waltzes—Allegro molto, Andante, Allegro assai— stands out even among all this lovely music. It has warmth, individuality, melodic charm, and a sturdy, upright dignity without a hint of pomposity that is his own special character. Monica Gaylord studied at Juilliard and Eastman and has played throughout the United States and Canada. She has a beautiful touch for these winning works, and when it comes to Coleridge-Taylor's heroic final coda, she peals forth bronze thunder; if this were a live recital, it would bring down the house. The pianist also writes the notes, in which she shows herself to be a knowledgeable historian and a fine writer. A fine recording rounds out the assets of this lovely disc.
-- James H. North, FANFARE [3/1993]
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This winsome collection of 20th-century music was warmly welcomed by James H. North on its original release in 1992 (Fanfare 16:4), and I can only second his endorsement. He called it "nostalgic," and I guess he's right—although to my mind, that's not so much because of the age of the composers (as he pointed out, their "average birthdate" is 1900), but rather because they all aim (at least, in the works here) for a soft-edged accessibility that went increasingly out of fashion as the century wore on. Indeed, even Dett's musical evocation of slave camps abstains from brutality. Fortunately, Monica Gaylord has the subtlety of touch this predominantly gentle recital requires. While she's perfectly capable of ringing out the splashy final numbers of the Coleridge-Taylor and Dett sets, she's at her most impressive extracting the delicate impressionistic colors from Still's Traceries or coaxing out the rhythms of Ellington's meditative Come Sunday. Fine sound and erudite notes by the pianist only add to the attractions. A first-rate reissue.
-- Peter J. Rabinowitz, FANFARE [3/1999]
Segovia & Contemporaries Vol. 15 / Lago, Collado, Segovia, Trio Albéniz del Alhambra
The classical guitarist is normally imagined as a solitary figure performing on stage. We think of Andres Segovia appearing as a soloist for over 80 years.. But guitarists have not only been soloists. As a teenager, Segovia himself was a member of a "pulso y pua" ensemble of lauds and bandurrias, the Quinteto Albeniz, and he commissioned concertos and chamber works from contemporary composers. Volume 15 of Segovia and His Contemporaries presents the live 1939 world premiere of the maestro performing Castelnuovo-Tedesco's Concerto in D. This historic broadcast is buttressed by rare recordings of the Trio Albeniz, Angel Barrios' Cuarteto Iberia, German Lago's Orquesta Ibérica de Madrid, and Francisco Collado's' Orquesta Guitarristica.
Handel: Water Music; Mozart: Symphonies 36 & 38 / Munch, Boston Symphony
George Frideric Handel: Water Music Suite (arr. H. Harty)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:
Symphony No. 36 in C major, K. 425, “Linz”
Symphony No. 38 in D major, K. 504, “Prague”
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Charles Munch, conductor
Recorded live from Sanders Theatre, Harvard University on 12 April 1960 (Water Music), 8 April 1958 (Linz Symphony), and 3 November 1959 (Prague Symphony)
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: Enhanced Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Booklet notes: English, French, German
Running time: 62 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Precious, unrecorded symphonies served up in vital, energising readings.
It sometimes seems as if WGBH-TV Boston had its camera crew surgically attached to the Sanders Theatre at Harvard. Maybe the crew emerged blinking from a surfeit of lectures, keen to get reacquainted with Charles Munch. The torrent of TV material now emerging on ICA Classics is both very welcome and very difficult to sift. What, usefully, should the critic do to suggest why you may or may not wish to buy this DVD, especially if the critic is me, one who suffers from a dual impulse; firstly to buy DVDs like this and then to despair of ever finding or making the time to watch them.
So, what’s in it for you when you consider this latest Munch DVD? I’m not saying ICA is being naughty but there’s no indication that this is black and white footage; most people will know this, but not everyone will, even if there’s a still of Munch (in black and white) on the box cover. So it’s black and white and in mono. The dates of the concerts are 1958, 1959 and 1960.
The first thing that’s in it for you is that Munch never recorded the two Mozart symphonies in the studio. This makes this AV representation especially valuable. Another thing in it for you, should you be interested in such things (I am), is to see the Boston Symphony in action - the players, the faces, their responses, maybe to try to put names to the faces. To this extent I wish ICA and other companies (almost no one does this, so I’m not singling out ICA) would provide a personnel listing of the orchestra at the time. I appreciate it may not be wholly accurate but I think it would be a nice touch.
Things start with the Handel-Harty Water Music suite, a performance of Beechamesque brio and bravado. If you miss the days of such arrangements then Munch and the Boston won’t let you down. The basses are positioned behind the French horns, and the top to bottom sonority, despite the mono sound, is highly enjoyable. Even though Adolf Busch, Boyd Neel and countless others had trail-blazed in this repertoire, Munch makes no concessions, and nor should he have done. Munch is at his most animated in the Allegro finale, smiling very slightly, his baton swishing about fly-fisherman style in his exuberance. One notices that the director decided that a good idea would be a camera shot ‘stepping down’ the orchestral sections, reasonable in theory, but dodgy in practice, not least when the camera slips, as it does once. One also notices that the Boston was an almost all-male orchestra at the time, and that the average age of the strings, at least, must have been quite high. There are some especially patrician looking gentlemen in the first violin section.
The Linz Symphony is from 1958 and has by far the most degraded film of the three. Grainy and rather unclear, a critic should counsel gently on this point. It’s hardly unwatchable, but you will most certainly notice the difference. The performance is in Munch’s best, taut and linear style; I would suggest George Szell as a reasonable point of comparison in terms of expression. Though sometimes tense, it’s never driven and the wind phrasing throughout is a delight. The Prague was taped in November 1959, with footage comparable in quality to the April 1960 Handel. I sense, unless it’s the increased clarity of the film that alerts me to the upturned eyes directed toward Munch’s beat, that the orchestra follows him that bit more circumspectly in this symphony. He makes the briefest of pauses between the first and second movements, ensuring a kind of symphonic continuity to occur. The band is ready for him, and the unindulged Andante is all the better for his unsentimental approach. The only demerit is not musical but filmic; some mildly chaotic camera panning shots that disrupt things briefly.
Despite such imperfections, I enjoyed the DVD. It enshrines those precious, unrecorded symphonies, grants visual immortality to the Boston denizens, and serves up vital, energising readings. How often you will play it, however, is a question that only you can answer.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Zimmermann: Recomposed / Holliger, WDR Sinfonieorchester
[The] new three-CD set titled “Zimmermann: Recomposed,” on the German Wergo label, is among the standout releases of 2022. -- The New York Times
Bernd Alois Zimmermann (1918–1970) was one of the most distinctive composers in the musical avant-garde after the Second World War. While Karlheinz Stockhausen served as a kind of ‘generator’ in Cologne during the 1950s and 60s, inventing completely new sounds and techniques, Zimmermann was in many ways his opposite, a ‘transformer’ who redefined previously existing material by placing it in new contexts and collage-like structures, anticipating the ideas of the Postmodernists. Zimmermann created these new contexts on many levels.
Especially in his younger years, he arranged and orchestrated songs and piano pieces using brash and daring instrumental colors. These arrangements then found their way into his works that are now recognized as modern masterpieces: “Alagoana”, “Konzert”, “Sinfonie in einem Satz”, “Stille und Umkehr”, etc. His self-composed works employing numerous quotations as well as his arrangements ‘recomposing’ previously existing music are juxtaposed in the excellent recordings presented by WERGO in this collection. It contains more than three hours of music as well as an extensive booklet with a wealth of information and an interview with Heinz Holliger, the guiding spirit behind this production.
Holliger conducted all of the recordings and has worked for years to ensure that Zimmermann’s long-forgotten arrangements were rescued, published, performed, and recorded. The performances and recordings took place as part of the celebrations organized by the WDR in Cologne in honor of Zimmermann’s 100th birthday. This new release from WERGO presents a fresh perspective on the composer Bernd Alois Zimmermann, whose tragic suicide shortly after the completion of “Stille und Umkehr” shocked the musical world. His fascinating instrumental effects and his embrace of popular and traditional music make his works feel much more at home in our contemporary world than they did in the cultural atmosphere of his time, with its faith with technology and progress.
Russian Viola Sonatas / Nelson, Inanga
GAIGEROVA Suite for Viola and Piano. WINKLER 2 Pieces, op. 31. Viola Sonata in c. JUON Viola Sonata in D • Eliesha Nelson (va); Glen Inanga (pn) • SONO LUMINUS DSL-92136 (71:02)
Varvara Adrianovna Gaigerova studied with Heinrich Neuhaus, Georgy Catoire, and Nikolai Miaskovsky at the Moscow Conservatory. The same professors taught Dmitri Kabalevsky, Sviatoslav Richter, and Emil Gilels. Gaigerova eventually became one of the Bolshoi Theatre’s hard-working pianists. In her spare time, she composed works for piano and viola as well as a symphony on Kalmyk themes and songs setting texts by Pushkin. She lived in terribly troubled times. For reasons unknown to us, she stayed in Russia when everyone who could left for greener pastures in Europe and the Americas. We do not know what happened to her during World War II, only that she died in 1944, when she was a mere 40 years old.
Eliesha Nelson’s viola has a warm, cream-laden tone. When you hear her play Gaigerova’s sensuous, heartstoppingly beautiful music, you wonder why we have not heard these works before. The Suite for Viola and Piano has sonorities that remind one a little of Scriabin, although Gaigerova’s composition is not in the least derivative. It begins with a propulsive Allegro agitato that gradually transitions to a slower movement. It finishes with a fast-paced section and a plaintive finale. Nelson brings out the luminous textures of this music with her engaging artistry. Her pianist, Glen Inanga, who plays a Steinway concert grand, is a most skillful partner. His contributions add greatly to the value of this disc. So does the clear and immediate sound of Sono Luminus engineers Daniel Shores and Dan Merceruio.
Alexander Winkler’s Elegiac Meditation is a slow and deliberate piece that begins with harmonious double-stopping. The pace shows off the ability of this violist, whose legato is as smooth as an old-fashioned butterscotch sundae. The next track offers a complete change of mood. La Toupie (The Top) describes the spinning of that once common toy. The viola imitates the rhythmic revolutions of a spinning top or wheel and you can see it whirl in your mind’s eye. To some degree, it is reminiscent of earlier composers’ spinning wheels, but here it is much happier and it injects a needed bit of comic relief into the program. The C-Minor Sonata brings us back to earth with compelling and significant music that touches the inner recesses of the soul. In the concluding variations on a tune from Brittany, the composer takes a beautiful folk tune and displays it in various guises: fast, slow, light, heavy, etc. It’s fun to listen to and you will notice that this finely crafted work is played with accuracy and precision.
Paul Juon is sometimes called the Russian Brahms and is thought to be a link between Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky. His D-Major Sonata brings us a glimpse of rare Northern European sunshine. Nelson and Inanga bring out its uplifting melody with a forward motion that keeps the tension tight. Svetlana Stepchenko and Zoya Abolitz recorded this piece on a Russian disc in 1998, but it is no longer easy to find. In any case, there is no need to look for a better rendition than the one by Nelson and Inanga.
FANFARE: Maria Nockin
FANDANGO
Concertos for Violin
Ashton: Music For Cello And Piano, Vol. 1 / Mizerska, Abbate
Ashton (b. 1859, Durham), is a best-kept secret of British music. He has a generous output of piano music, chamber works and songs. Ashton’s writing for both cello and piano is virtuosic. What strikes the ear is the quality of his melodic inspiration – the lyrical immediacy of his tunes suggests Schubert, set in a style of Brahmsian richness. This CD features world premiere recordings.
REVIEW:
Algernon Ashton, (1859–1937) was a British-born composer who was educated in Germany. When his father died in 1863, his mother moved the family to Leipzig where she was befriended by Clara Schumann. Even as a child, Algernon attended the famous Schumann soirees and rubbed shoulders with famous musicians. After finishing his education, he returned to England. He became professor of piano at the Royal Academy of Music in London and spent the rest of his life in England. Ashton was a prolific composer but many of his works were not published and very few have been recorded. His chamber music output includes four sonatas for violin and piano, four for cello and piano, two piano quartets, and two piano quintets. He also wrote symphonies, but they were never published. The opening work on this Toccata disc is his Arioso, a beautiful piece in a contemplative mood. It has some of the colors of Brahms, but none of his rhythmic bite. The Sonata No. 1 in F Major opens with an Allegro Appassionato, an impassioned plea begging the listener to take a mental voyage to Ashton’s lyrical world of drawing rooms with polished grand pianos and crimson velvet drapes where chamber music was as common as video games are today. He develops the second movement, the Larghetto, with consummate skill and clothes it with jewel tones. Only in the Finale, which he asks to be played Allegro Frescamente, does he bring in a truly rhythmic melody. It could be a happy folk dance replete with clapping and stomping on the accented notes. It’s the kind of music that makes you get up and move! Abbate and Mizerska play all of this music joyfully and with great skill.
The Phantasiestücke is an invitation to reverie. Ashton is a master of melody and he begins with a broad sunny tune that might bring back memories of a hike in German or English woodlands. In the second movement, marked Andantino con Gran Espressione, he leads us away from the cares of the everyday world into the nirvana of pure musical concentration where we can spend a few blissful minutes. After we reach our goal, we return to the village for the last movement marked Allegro Scherzando. There we can relax and tap our toes to another of Ashton’s fast and furious folk tunes. The Second Sonata is a bit more dramatic than the First. Its markings, Moderato and Adagio ma non troppo are somewhat deceiving, because this work is constantly increasing in tension as it builds toward its marvelously animated finale. The two fine artists who currently reside and teach in London, the Polish-born Evva Mizerska and the Naples-born Emma Abbate, play all of this music with great finesse. Ashton’s music is a revelation. It deserves a much wider audience than it has had so far. The sound on the disc is clear with each instrument given equal presence. I enjoyed getting to know Ashton’s story and his music and think this disc should have a place in many record libraries.
-- Fanfare
J.A. Groneman & J.F. Groneman: Rococo Flute Music
Legros - haute-contre de Gluck / van Mechelen, A Nocte Temporis
Tenor Reinoud Van Mechelen concludes his trilogy dedicated to hautes-contre with "Legros; Gluck's haute-contre". Joseph Legros (1739-1793) was a singer at the Paris Opéra; renowned for his extraordinary musical abilities; wide range and brilliant high notes. “His contemporaries appreciated the fact that his vocal delivery was not forced and that his taste was less mannered than that of his predecessors. His pronunciation was perfect and his face pleasing; although he did not cut a graceful figure and his stage acting left something to be desired” writes Benoit Dratwicki; of the Centre de Musique Baroque de Versailles; which is a partner in this series... Legros sparked renewed interest among modern composers for the haute-contre voice. The first to write for him were La Borde; Trial and Berton. Then came Gossec (Alexis et Daphné) and Grétry (Céphale et Procris). In 1774; Gluck's arrival in Paris marked a turning point in Legros's career: he made a name for himself in Orphée et Eurydice; caused a sensation in Iphigénie en Aulide and Iphigénie en Tauride... The title roles in Amadis de Gaule by J. C. Bach and Piccinni's Atys were the last roles in which he shone. After Legros; the haute-contre voice gradually disappeared; giving way to that of the "true tenor"; a more powerful voice; but one that had difficulty tackling the high register of the old repertoire...
Valen: Orchestral Music Vol 1 / Eggen, Båtnes, Stavanger SO
VALEN Symphony No. 1. Violin Concerto. Sonetto di Michelangelo. Cantico di ringraziamento. Pastorale • Christian Eggen, cond; Elise Båtnes (vn); Stavanger SO • BIS 1522 (58:06)
One of the great pleasures of collecting recordings is the occasional discovery of an exciting, previously unknown, work. Well, here are five of them, by a composer that has been neglected for far too long. Norwegian composer Fartein Valen (1887–1952) may be, as one biography has it, “one of the few Norwegian composers with an international reputation,” but that doesn’t seem to be saying much. He was a modernist in a country much taken with its nationalist musical tradition and not particularly receptive to Valen’s innovations. His own apparent indifference to recognition and his withdrawal to the isolation of a rural farm for much of his creative life only added to his obscurity. One can hope this release, the first in a promised series of recordings of orchestral works from BIS will help to rectify this situation.
Valen studied with Max Bruch in Berlin and stayed to absorb the many other influences of that important musical capital in the second decade of the 20th century. He fell under the spell of Bach, Bruckner, and Brahms, but was also captivated by the progressives of that era, especially Arnold Schoenberg. When Schoenberg introduced his first works using serial techniques in the early 1920s, Valen was already home in Norway, developing his own type of serialism. It became the basis for all of his compositions written from 1925 on. Unlike Schoenberg, who developed a whole new theoretical system of music using tone rows of all 12 chromatic pitches, Valen worked intuitively and far less strictly. His point of departure was Bach’s rich polyphony, from which he developed comparably rich tone row-like chromatic melodies. Valen applied this technique of “dissonant counterpoint,” as he called it, in a variety of classic forms during the remainder of his career. The result is not the sometimes hard-edged dissonances of Schoenberg’s thornier scores. Rather, while there are no keys in Valen’s music, there is always a sense of vague tonality. The lines are incredibly long, but one never gets lost. There is a feeling of wandering, which is undoubtedly the desired effect. This is music of ambiguity and melancholy—a beautiful uncertainty which Valen packages in clear, familiar structures. It sounds vaguely like Berg, another important influence, but the overall effect is different.
Valen’s Symphony No. 1, op. 30 (1939), is, of course, classical in form. After a beginning of dark foreboding, the opening Allegro movement is tense and energetic, with moments of exaltation. El Greco’s painting Christ on the Mount of Olives is the inspiration for the second, Adagio, movement. The building of the line is ecstatic and the anguish palpable. The third movement provides contrast in the form of a playful scherzo and clouded trio before we are plunged back into the tensions of the rondo-form finale. It is an exhilarating journey.
The Violin Concerto, op. 37 (1940), is Valen’s most-played work and the one that finally brought him some recognition at its premiere in 1948. It was written as a memorial to his godson, Arne Valen, who had died of tuberculosis several years earlier. In it he expresses his profound sense of loss and his deep Christian faith, the latter especially in his use of the Bach chorale Jesu meine Zuversicht in the concluding section of the work. It bears a superficial similarity to the Berg Violin Concerto, of which Valen was aware, though he had not actually heard it. The work is intensely beautiful and deeply, often tenderly, moving.
The other works on the disc— Pastorale , op. 11 (1930), a meditation on his beloved rose garden, Sonetto di Michelangelo , op. 17/1 (1932), in which he contemplates the religious longing and pain in the great Italian artist’s poetry, and Cantico di ringraziamento , op. 17/2 (1932), in which Valen expresses Psalm-like thanksgiving in a beautifully constructed fugue—are equally rewarding experiences.
The Stavanger Symphony Orchestra, the excellent resident orchestra of Valen’s birthplace, has made a mission, on CD at least, of rescuing Norwegian composers from undeserved obscurity. Valen joins Geirr Tveitt and Harald Sæverud in their debt. Christian Eggen, who edited the often-faulty published scores to restore Valen’s intentions, is well known in Scandinavia for his performances of contemporary music. He conducts with admirable strength and sensitivity. Elise Båtnes, one of the foremost violinists of Norway, plays the difficult, soaring lines of the Concerto with silvery tone and great concentration. The recorded sound is very fine and the documentation excellent. This is not music of loud affirmation and major-key celebration. Look elsewhere for that. This is music of great emotional depth and asks a fair amount of the listener. It rewards in kind. Highly recommended with that caveat.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
Stanford: Symphonies no 2 and 5 / Lloyd-Jones
Hot on the heels of the first volume of the projected Naxos Stanford symphony cycle (see review) comes Volume Two, which again features David Lloyd-Jones at the helm of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra.
The Second symphony was premièred, under the composer’s baton, in Cambridge in 1882 and there’s a passing link with the subsequent première of the Fourth symphony in Berlin. In that latter concert Joseph Joachim was the soloist in Stanford’s Suite for Violin and Orchestra. Joachim also participated in the Cambridge concert of 1882, playing the Brahms concerto on that occasion. Following the first performance in 1882 there was another airing of the Second symphony at the Gloucester Three Choirs Festival in the following year. However, in his notes for Vernon Handley’s 1991 recording, Lewis Foreman states that he had been unable to trace any further performances until 1990, when the Ulster Orchestra gave it, presumably as a precursor to the Handley recording for Chandos.
The symphony bears the title ‘Elegiac’ and Stanford prefaced the score with four stanzas from Tennyson’s poem, In Memoriam. However, I’m bound to say that I find it hard to detect any elegiac tone in the music itself. The first movement is marked Allegro appassionato. It’s a vigorous movement in which one feels the music is moving forward pretty constantly, culminating in a dramatic coda.
The main theme of the second movement, a Largo espressivo, is rightly described by annotator Richard Whitehouse, as “both graceful and expressive.” This is rather lovely music, which consistently displays a singing quality. This is followed by a genuine scherzo. The outer sections of this quite short movement display a drive that is Beethoven-like. In between is encased a brief lyrical trio but it’s noticeable that even here the timpani maintain the rhythmic pulse underneath the music, albeit quietly, for much of the time.
The finale opens with an adagio introduction that has a decidedly Brahmsian feel. Once the main allegro is reached that section opens with some delightful wind writing after which the music surges along with no little purpose. This finale has genuine drive and momentum and it builds to a jubilant coda in which, once again, I hear the influence of Brahms.
The Fifth symphony dates from 1894 and Stanford drew his inspiration from two poems by John Milton (1608-1674). He inscribed several stanzas from each in the score and, helpfully, Naxos include these verses in the English version of the booklet notes.
The principal subject of the first movement, ushered in by the woodwind at 1:45, is rather jolly. However, there had been quite a degree of urgency to the brief introduction and this urgency remains as a kind of background presence underpinning the essential joviality of the movement as a whole. The music has constant vitality and is fresh and enjoyable to hear. For the second movement Stanford follows the precedent of Brahms by writing an intermezzo, which bears the Brahmsian indication Allegretto grazioso. Lewis Foreman described this movement in his note for the Chandos-Handley recording as “a gently pastoral minuet”. That’s not quite how it comes across in this present performance, however. Lloyd-Jones adopts a slightly faster speed than Handley – he takes 6:28 against Handley’s 6:56 – and thereby gives the music quite a different character. I wouldn’t presume to say which approach is better. To be truthful, I think both work in their own way though I have a marginal preference for the way the movement goes in Handley’s hands. The bottom line is that both conductors are successful in bringing out the genial character of the music.
The third movement, Andante molto tranquillo, was inspired by Il penseroso. Richard Whitehouse describes this movement as “searching” and I agree. It begins with some fine, expansive string writing, which is gradually enriched by the addition of woodwind and horns. This is Stanford at his noble, expansive best. At 3:47 Stanford introduces new material, with flute and clarinet appropriately to the fore as he responds to Milton’s lines about the nightingale, beginning “Sweet bird that shunn’st the noise of folly.” This material is developed for a while until, after a majestic passage for brass (around 6:00) the opening lyrical material returns, but this time in even richer guise and it’s with this that Stanford brings a most impressive movement to a close.
There’s a strange opening to the finale, featuring quiet, stabbing chords. At 0:33 a restless melody in dotted rhythm appears, first on the strings and then taken up by the winds but the music doesn’t really seem to get into its stride until about 1:20. As the movement unfolds the tone becomes more assertive though those stabbing chords keep cropping up. The last of Milton’s stanzas quoted by Stanford begins “There let the pealing organ blow” and Stanford does indeed add an organ to the orchestral palette (at 8:10) though its initial entry is quiet, just gently underpinning the orchestra. At 10:34 the full orchestra and organ intone a majestic chorale and one thinks that this is the Big Finish. Not so. The music winds down and Stanford brings the movement instead to a rich, luminous but quiet conclusion, which I find very satisfying and which aptly echoes Milton’s words:
Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.
It’s not easy to place these two symphonies. Neither is the equal of Elgar’s symphonies but they are far from negligible and these admirable performances under the convincing leadership of David Lloyd-Jones confirm that they do not deserve the neglect into which they have fallen. Lloyd-Jones obtains fine playing from the Bournemouth orchestra and, as with the previous issue in this series, they have been accorded warm yet detailed sound.
This is another distinguished instalment in this Stanford cycle. Vernon Handley’s pioneering set (Chandos) is most certainly not displaced but these Naxos recordings, and this latest one in particular, can stand proudly shoulder to shoulder beside them. Collectors who bought the earlier issue of the Fourth and Seventh symphonies should not hesitate to add this companion volume to their shelves. More please!
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Saint-Saens: Symphony No 3 "Organ"… / Slatkin
By the time noted organist Edwin Lemare made his transcription of the Danse macabre decades later, the concept of the symphonic organ had expanded to include complete divisions of (allegedly) string-toned pipes. Some of these were more successful than others at creating the proper illusion. Lemare’s own organ in Chattanooga, Tennessee, for example–recently restored–had both violin and cello vibrato, celeste and orchestral violin stops in its string division. None of these except the vibrato-producing celeste were present in the Trocadero instrument, and so organist Vincent Warnier has had to modify Lemare’s registration accordingly. This he has managed with great sensitivity, and his performance, while a touch on the slow side (inevitably, in order to keep the rhythms clean), is still remarkably convincing, and an excellent example of how a symphonic organ can be used to play highly entertaining transcriptions of basic repertoire.
Cyprès et Lauriers is a diptych consisting of an elegiac organ solo linked to an organ-and-orchestra finale. It’s not great Saint-Saëns, but its 13 minutes pass by enjoyably, and it gives the organist the opportunity to display his instrument’s power and coloristic subtleties equally well. It has to be said that the current restoration has created a very pleasant-sounding instrument, with few of those excessively reedy, nasal stops that we often hear in 19th century organs, especially in France. Some aficionados love that particular gravelly sonority, but I’m not one of them.
And so to the symphony. Slatkin has finally whipped the orchestra into shape and they deliver a very enjoyable performance. The first movement is basically unplayable if you take Saint-Saëns’ double-note rhythms seriously, and so most performances kind of mush them together, creating an atmosphere of generalized agitation. This works perfectly well, but Slatkin has his players really articulate the principal theme of the allegro, and while it robs the music of some of its potential excitement, the result is effective and expressively apt. The same rhythmic precision characterizes the scherzo, whose 6/8 theme begins on an upbeat, which often somehow degenerates in many performances (Ormandy’s on Sony, for example) to the point where the tune seems to enter on a downbeat. Not here.
As for the two movements with organ, the balances with the orchestra are very naturally caught by the Radio France engineers. The transfer to disc is a bit low level, so you really need to turn up the volume for the best effect, and there’s plenty of room around the instruments. You won’t be overwhelmed by the organ’s sonority–no 747 jet engine revving up for takeoff here–but that’s a good thing. You get music, not noise. The interplay between the orchestra and the organ is a constant source of delight, and the finale still builds to a truly rousing conclusion. Altogether this is a very pleasing and worthwhile release, and a belated vindication for Slatkin and the Lyon players.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
All'opera - Roberto Alagna: Complete Opera Recordings on Warner Classics
A singer of passion, elegance and dynamism, excelling equally in Italian and French opera, Roberto Alagna has numbered among the world's leading tenors for more than 30 years. His idiomatic phrasing and diction have consistently attracted praise. His recorded catalogue is substantial. In the judgement of the authoritative Grove Book of Opera Singers his recordings document "the plangent lyricism of Alagna's tone and the appealing ardor and inner fire of his style". Referring to his interpretation of the title role of Verdi's Don Carlos, in the recording conducted by Antonio Pappano, the New York Times wrote, "His intensely lyrical yet refined singing was a genuine revelation"
This 33CD box contains complete operas - by Bizet, Donizetti, Gounod, Massenet, Offenbach, Puccini, and Verdi - recorded between 1992 and 2017 and originally released by EMI Classics, Virgin Classics, Warner Classics, and Erato. The box notably documents Alagna's productive artistic partnerships with soprano Angela Gheorghiu (his wife from 1996 to 2013) and conductor Antonio Pappano.
Haydn: The Paris Symphonies / Harnoncourt, Concentus Musicus
I'm in Haydn heaven. This is the most remarkable set of "Paris" Symphonies since Bernstein's, and without question the new reference by which all others will be judged. I say this fully cognizant of the excellence of some of the competition, from the surprisingly robust Karajan (DG) to the thrillingly exciting Thomas Fey (Hänssler, which contains 4 out of 6 of the symphonies). But none of those previous sets comes as close as this one to realizing perhaps the most singular quality of the music: it's inexhaustible variety and range of emotional expression, both between the various works as well as within them. Recorded back in 2001 and 2002 in glorious, state-of-the-art sonics that give the music the dynamic range and "bigness" of scale that it requires, we can only be thankful that RCA and dhm picked up Harnoncourt's contract when Warner dropped him. The thought of this set not seeing the light of day is too horrible to contemplate.
Few moments in listening to new interpretations of well-loved classics (for me anyway) are more rewarding than hearing something totally different and personal, only to realize that what the conductor has done is simply realize the composer's clear intentions by playing what sits in plain view on the printed page. Let me share with you three examples. In the first movement of Symphony No. 85 ("La Reine"), every performance since the dawn of time that observes the exposition repeat returns to the beginning of the allegro. Harnoncourt goes all the way back to the beginning of the symphony, including the introduction. This so shocked me that I hastened to my score (Landon edition, and so a good scholarly text), and sure enough, there is no repeat sign bracketing the beginning of the allegro. Moreover, in the other two symphonies with introductions (Nos. 84 and 86), you will find those repeat signs in the expected place. So Harnoncourt probably is the first conductor in history, on disc at least, to play what Haydn actually wrote.
Does this matter? Maybe not all that much, but including the introduction emphasizes the movement's hommage to the baroque French overture, and it's entirely in keeping with Haydn's love of formal variety and freedom from routine. It sounds "right". Another example: listen to the forcefulness with which Harnoncourt attacks the sforzandos in the development section of Symphony No. 83's ("La Poule") finale. Once again it's exactly what Haydn wrote, and the effect is electrifying. But Harnoncourt's eye for detail and ear for sonority are not limited exclusively to loud special effects. He can be subtle too, as when he lets us hear the long-held viola note supporting the whimsical second subject in the finale of the Symphony No. 86--a striking jet of color. Anywhere you might care to mention, from the vigorous dotted rhythms that open Symphony No. 85, to the ideal tempos that Harnoncourt finds in the variation slow movements in Symphonies Nos. 82, 84, and 85, to the delicious vignettes that he makes out of the trios in all six (thankfully lively) minuets--try No. 84--you can hear the notes leap off the page with all the freshness of a premiere performance, but with none of the uncertainty.
Harnoncourt honors all suggested repeats, including the second halves of the outer movements--and this also matters, because Haydn writes his endings with the expectation that the repeats will be observed, adding an additional element of surprise and drama. They are anything but perfunctory. In fact, the timing of the second-half repeat is different in every single finale: one and a half 2/4 bars in Symphony No. 82; three quarters of a 12/8 bar in No. 83; one eighth-note in a 2/4 bar in No. 84; half a 2/4 bar in No. 85; three quarters of a 4/4 bar in No. 86; one and a quarter 2/2 bars (plus fermata) in No. 87. Observing the repeats, and understanding what they mean, not only gives the music more substance by allowing listeners to follow the argument in greater detail the second time around, but it further emphasizes Haydn's individuality in each work, making us care about his imaginative approach to form. The result is more than three hours of music--on three discs priced as two--that never feels overlong. Just the opposite.
Finally, the playing of the Concentus Musicus Wien is extraordinary. The woodwinds are particularly gorgeous, whether in the lovely writing for the whole section in select slow movements--try Symphony No. 87, and the variation with pizzicato accompaniment in No. 84--or in solos such as the witty oboe that represents the hen in No. 83 and launches the allegro of No. 85. Harnoncourt even makes something special out of the string articulation in the repeated notes running through the first movement of No. 87 (and he's the first conductor since Bernstein to give the bass lines at the beginning of that symphony their full measure of weight and character). The trumpets and drums in Symphonies Nos. 82 and 86 play vigorously and always cut through the texture with clarity and festive brilliance, while the "dancing bear" finale of No. 82 is both exciting and rustic, the bagpipe imitations milked for all that they're worth, but never at the expense of the music's onrushing energy. You'll love the horns: rich-toned, but with plenty of bite where necessary.
I could go on, but instead let me urge you to buy this set as soon as possible and hear it for yourself. You'll be dazzled, even awed. It sets a new standard in Haydn performance--and trust me, you won't be able to stop listening. [4/28/2005]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
