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SaleSchubert: The Piano Trios / Irnberger, Geringas, Korstick
Gramola Records · Feb 2017SACD$31.99$23.99 -
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SaleHandel: Water Music; Mozart: Symphonies 36 & 38 / Munch, Boston Symphony
ICA Classics · Feb 2012DVD$26.99$20.99 -
Barriere & De Bury: Sonates et suites pour le clavecin / Quintavalle
Brilliant Classics · Apr 2017CD$17.99 -
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Brahms: Works For Violin & Piano / Znaider, Bronfman

With these marvelous performances of the three Brahms violin sonatas, Nikolaj Znaider hits his artistic stride, abetted by Yefim Bronfman's impeccable piano partnership. The G major seemingly begins out of nowhere in darkness, then gradually takes on brighter colors as Znaider opens up his tone. The canonic interaction between violin and piano unfolds with gentle yet enlivening lack of effort, as does all of the composer's cross-rhythmic phrasing. Sample, if you can, Bronfman's solo introduction to the slow movement, and also notice how he admirably avoids other pianists' tendencies to push forward in climaxes by allowing the bass lines time to resonate and breathe in strict tempo. The A major sonata proves equally winning in a tender, lyrically inflected interpretation where even the softest, most delicate moments never go the least bit slack.
The musicians take the D minor's first movement at an animated Allegro that still manages to convey the music's brooding, somewhat mysterious underside. In the eloquent Adagio, Znaider's long-lined command suggests a bow with no end, while Znaider and Bronfman bring astute voice leading and relative sobriety to the third movement--a valid alternative to more impulsive and animated accounts (Mullova/Anderszewski, for example). Control and clarity define the pair's way with the finale, although the rollicking momentum they generate does not quite match the irresistible, kinetic abandon with which Suk/Katchen, Dumay/Pires, and Heifetz/Kapell have spoiled at least one reviewer named Distler! They conclude with an impassioned, intelligently parsed rendition of the "F.A.E Sonata" Scherzo. RCA's detailed, beautifully balanced engineering further enhances my highest recommendation.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Vivaldi: Piccolo Concertos
Faz Tempo
Bernstein conducts Haydn: London Symphonies
"let’s not kid ourselves: there was no finer 20th century Haydn conductor than Leonard Bernstein. He has the same affinity for the composer that he did for Mahler: the music’s energy, humor, and sheer emotional range played to the conductor’s strengths, and no amount of foolishness about “period this” or “authentic that” can diminish idiomatic results that penetrate far deeper into the music’s expressive essence than issues of performance practice ever can."
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
"The competition is strong in the “London” symphonies, but Bernstein’s performances of Haydn are always among the most intriguing, the most dynamic and intense. The “Surprise” Symphony’s opening Vivace assai is played slowly, with a unique gravitas, a seemingly odd approach that—through some Bernstein magic—produces a tender, sensitive result. The surprise chord in the Andante doesn’t sneak up on us; it is just plain ff. The repeated ff chords in the rest of the movement thunder with a towering rage, and the Menuet stomps heavily. The Allegro di molto finale boils along at terrific pace, bursting with joy. This is a wildly unconventional performance of this warhorse, yet one that thrills and satisfies.
Max Goberman recorded a superb No. 98, including the violin/cembalo duet in the finale, but his Vienna State Opera Orchestra (like Scherchen’s, third-string leftovers from the Vienna Philharmonic) cannot match the New Yorkers’ power and panache. This “Military” is a lovely performance, with especially enticing wind solos; the Janissary music (triangle, cymbals, bass drum) is not overplayed, as with Scherchen. The triangle rings its own miniature cadenza in the finale’s penultimate measure. The Andante of “The Clock” ticks sweetly and gently, interrupted by thundering fortissimos. Trumpets are prominent throughout the performance, so the wrong-note joke in the (very slow) Menuet’s Trio jars the ear as never before—or since. No.102, perhaps Haydn’s greatest symphony, receives it finest performance, beginning with an almost motionless Largo and ending with a lightning-fast, spectacularly executed Presto. "
-- James H. North, Fanfare
At least one of these performances (No. 104) goes back to the Fifties, and the Paris Symphonies came out about a quarter-of-a-century ago. For some reason they caused a tremendous row in the New York press when they were issued. Part of it was my defending the performances (in a magazine called High Fidelity), saying among other things that Bernstein had gone to great pains to get his trills right, ie in strict tempo and starting on the upper note. In those days, a lot of snobs did not take Bernstein seriously – how wrong they were. Bernstein has a natural affinity for Haydn, though some of his tempi will be judged too slow: first movements of Nos. 82, 93 and 98 (an old legacy from Sir Thomas Beecham, especially in the case of No. 82), the intolerably slow minuets of some works (eg Nos. 93 and 101, also a Beecham legacy but not much better in the Karajan/Berlin Philharmonic recordings), and the slow movement of The Clock (No. 101). But when Bernstein gets it right, it is glorious. The slow movement of the Surprise (No. 94) is nowadays taken far too quickly: it is only andante, not allegretto, and Bernstein’s reading is poetic and masculine, by turns. The first movement of the great C minor Symphony No. 95 is the best reading of it that I know – listen to that hair-raising timpani part at the end: it is extraordinary, as is the ferociously slow Minuet in the same work. And while on the subject of timpani, there are splendid timpani solos in the Minuet of No. 97, the slow movement of which is also a revelation – note the careful adherence to Haydn’s markings of ‘ponticello’, on the bridge of the violins, a nasty, spiky sound which must have stunned London in 1792. If you want one perfect Haydn/Bernstein sampler, try the finale of No. 99 in E flat, the first time Haydn ever used clarinets in a symphony. The tempo and the pace are perfect. And what civilised works these are: witty, profound, dramatic, touching – there is something for everybody in them.
-- H.C. Robbins Landon, BBC Music Magazine
Chopin, Rachmaninoff: Complete Preludes / Algarra
De Lassus: Canticum Canticorum / Alarcon, Namur Chamber Choir
At the height of the Renaissance, the music of Orlande de Lassus frequently combines the emotion of secular music with sacred compositions. With their erotic connotations, the texts of The Song of Songs are an ideal source for bringing together sacred and profane feelings. Based on his most famous song, Lassus wrote one of his unitary masses: Suzanne un jour. Along with the Magnificat that he composed on De Rore's madrigal Ancor che col partire, here are two religious compositions of which the themes are borrowed from evocations of amorous turmoil.
Brahms & Schumann: Chamber Music / Pressler, Pacifica Quartet
The internationally celebrated, Grammy Award-winning Pacifica Quartet joins forces with legendary pianist Menahem Pressler of the Beaux Arts Trio for Johannes Brahms’s Piano Quintet in F Minor, Op. 34, a pillar of German Romanticism that opens with one of the most recognizable melodies in classical music. Pressler, a consummate chamber artist, performs the virtuosic piano part with a clarity and transparency that makes the piano seem like a fellow member of the string ensemble. This noteworthy generation-crossing collaboration — a half-century separates the pianist, who is in his 90s, from the quartet members — yields a spacious, sweeping traversal of the Brahms Quintet that sets its own pace to build suspense and drama. While Pressler has performed the Brahms Quintet with marquee string quartets of the past 50 years, this is his first recording of it. The album offers the unusual, perhaps unprecedented, pairing of Brahms’s early Piano Quintet with a string quartet by his champion Robert Schumann, in this case, the String Quartet in A Minor, Op. 41, No.1, which the Quartet has been performing since early in its career. Dedicated to Mendelssohn, this buoyant, sprightly Romantic quartet showcases the Pacifica’s virtuosity and exuberant performance style while offering a contrast to Brahms’s moodier masterwork. This is the Quartet’s first recording of a Schumann work.
REVIEW:
Menahem Pressler was 91 when he recorded the Brahms Piano Quintet for the first time in his long and distinguished career in 2014. He’s clearly up to the task. Admittedly, tempos are slower than usual for the most part, and you won’t find the kind of dynamism and power in loud tuttis commonly served up by younger keyboard hotshots–although Pressler suddenly sheds decades in the finale’s exultant coda, matching the Pacifica Quartet’s urgent sweep note for note. There’s purpose and meaning in every phrase, every gesture, and every nuance on Pressler’s part.
Listen to the tension that the pianist generates in the soft unison rising scales prior to the first-movement exposition repeat, hear the haunting sense of mystery and flexibility in the Scherzo’s Trio, and notice how Pressler’s tonal shadings enhance the conversational lilt in the fourth movement’s main theme. Having so finely tuned and attentive an ensemble as the Pacifica Quartet on hand doesn’t hurt, of course! If the Hough/Takács and Andsnes/Artemis versions score for fluency, assurance, and grandeur, Pressler’s insights are priceless, and we’d be poorer without them.
A 2016 recording of the Schumann A minor Quartet Op. 41 No. 1 fills out the disc. The Pacifica members make a compelling case for this inspired yet arguably sprawling work. They draw out the first movement’s introduction, giving little clue about the fierce Allegro around the corner and the sharply drawn dynamic contrasts with which they’ll characterize the music.
Ferocity also defines the ensemble’s hair-trigger articulation in the “Mendelssohn on steroids” Scherzo. The Presto sounds faster than it actually transpires, due to the players’ sophisticated balancing of lines and ever-so-discreet italicizations of harmonic felicities; rarely do you hear such fusion of forward drive and contrapuntal clarity as the Pacifica Quartet delivers. It’s an absorbing performance, notwithstanding my preference for leaner and edgier versions by the Zehetmair and Eroica Quartets.
– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)
Looking At The Moon
Alfvén: Synnöve Of Solbakken (Suite), Etc / Willén, Et Al
ALFVÉN Synnøve Solbakken. En Bygdesaga. Elegy at Emil Sjögren’s Funeral • Niklas Willén, cond; Norrköping SO • NAXOS 8.557828 (73:12)
Niklas Willén’s Alfvén survey for Naxos continues apace with the sixth release in a series that has already covered the composer’s five symphonies plus assorted miscellaneous works with four different orchestras. This puts Willén and Naxos in head-to-head competition with Neeme Järvi on BIS in a survey that has the possible advantage of a single orchestra—the Stockholm Philharmonic.
With this latest installment, Willén mines Alfvén’s rich vein of music for film and stage. Originally screened in Stockholm in 1934, Synnøve Solbakken is a recasting of sorts of the Romeo and Juliet theme, but this time with a happy ending: boy and girl fall in love, but there’s bad blood between the parents. Boy is stabbed and temporarily paralyzed, but experiences an amazing Freudian recovery when he is called upon to save his father who is injured in an accident. Not having seen the film, the ending makes no sense to me at all, but somehow this miraculous incident reconciles the two families, and everyone lives happily ever after. Apparently, I’m not alone in my confusion. A critic at the time liked the lead actor and Alfvén’s music, but judged the overriding interest of the plot to be the landscape and the cows. Alfvén incorporated into the score music from his ballet-pantomime Bergakungen , as well as a number of Norwegian folk tunes.
Based on a novel by Vilhelm Moberg, Mans kvinna (literally, “Man’s woman”), the movie version hit the screen 10 years later, in 1944. Darker and more psychologically complex, it tells the story of an illicit affair between a woman trapped in a dull marriage to a farmer and her attraction to a handsome young farmhand. When the farmer learns of his wife’s infidelity, he essentially places her under house arrest, claiming her as his legal property—“chattel,” I believe, is the now politically incorrect word that would have been used. The lovers end up escaping together, but the story was probably meant more as social criticism of the attitudes towards women and their rights than it was intended as a tale of lusting after the flesh. From his film score Alfvén extracted a suite to which he gave the less provocative title, En Bygdesaga (“A Country Tale”). But the music remains reflective of its subject matter—i.e., it’s not in the folksy style of Synnøve Solbakken , but considerably more dramatic and serious in tone.
Alfvén wrote for the live stage as well as for film, and in 1932 he provided incidental music to Ludvig Nördstrom’s play, Vi (“We”). One of the numbers from that score was played at the funeral services of Swedish composer Emil Sjögren (1853–1918), and was later published as a standalone piece, the Elegy , op. 38. Though very beautiful, little about it sounds elegiac. It reminded me a bit of the funeral music from Wagner’s Götterdämmerung. Not one to throw away a good piece of music—Sjögren after all could only be elegized once—Alfvén subsequently incorporated it, along with other numbers from Vi , into yet another suite, Gustav II Adolf , op. 49.
If you have any familiarity with Alfvén, you will already know that he was more a product of the 19th century than of the 20th, as were so many Scandinavian composers of the time. You will also know that his music is of a rich, romantic tonal opulence that often has much in common with Swedish contemporaries, Wilhelm Peterson-Berger and Wilhelm Stenhammar. If you are not familiar with Alfvén, this release is as good a place as any to whet your appetite. Performances and recording are exemplary. Highly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Mendelssohn: String Symphonies Vol 3 / Ward, Northern Co
John Warrack, Gramophone [Awards Issue 1997]
Schubert: The Piano Trios / Irnberger, Geringas, Korstick
Secretly, I hope to make something of myself, but after Beethoven who can do anything? These words by the juvenile Franz Schubert might explain why it took him 15 years - until 1827, just one year prior to his death - to begin writing both of his great piano trios, works of epic, almost symphonic dimensions. This new interpretation by violinist Thomas Albertus Imberger with David Geringas, cello and Michael Korstick, piano works out the lyricism and thematic work as well as the affects and discontinuities which illustrate the large influence, that Beethoven's composing had on Schubert's oeuvre. Similar effects can be observed with the Notturno D 897, in contrast to the Trio Movement Allegro D 28, which being an early work exhibits closer ties to Mozart. Many awards, performances at international festivals and co-operations and recordings with musicians such as Jorg Demus, Evgueni Sinaiski or Paul Badura-Skoda as well as with the Israel Chamber Orchestra conducted by Roberto Paternostro and the orchestra "Spirit of Europe" under its principal conductor Martin Sieghart stress the young Salzburger's musical skills. Born in Vilnius / Lithuania, the cellist and conductor David Geringas is today numbered among the elite of music. His intellectual severity, stylistic versatility, his melodic feeling and the sensuality of the sound he produces have brought him awards from all around the world.
Liszt: Les Preludes, Orpheus… / Fruhbeck de Burgos

This is the best Liszt orchestral recital to come along in many a moon, and it's all the more enjoyable given the involvement of Rafael Frübeck de Burgos, a fine conductor and a real trooper who has not received much attention since he ended his association with EMI several decades ago. Hopefully, this release signals an extensive new partnership with BIS, because Frübeck has the potential to become a major musical voice given half a chance. My, but this man knows his Liszt! Les préludes has grandeur, athletic vigor, and a genuine rush of excitement in the closing pages, with nary a trace of gratuitous bombast. Anyone who knows these works understands just what an achievement this represents. Take, for example, the concluding phrases for lower strings and trombones at the end of Tasso's allegro sections: Frübeck conjures an ideally rich, dark sound, perfectly balanced, never crude. Similarly, the much-maligned Festklänge displays nobility without excessive weight or rhythmic ponderousness. Best of all, Orpheus' sweetness avoids any hint of tackiness, thanks in large part to sensitive phrasing applied to warm, cultivated string sonorities.
Frübeck secures marvelous playing from the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra, of which he has been Music Director since 1994. The solo winds sport fresh timbres and excellent intonation, the brass cut nicely but never overpower, and the strings attack their parts with great confidence and rhythmic security. Add to these qualities first class recorded sound, which gives the percussion excellent impact without undue spotlighting, and if you have ever doubted the quality of this music, here's a disc that should dispel any qualms. Incidentally, Festklänge sports a tune that sounds remarkably like the Canadian national anthem, which I always thought was stolen from the opening of Act 2 of Mozart's Magic Flute. Go figure. Recordings such as this are all too likely to be dismissed because of the repertoire, or lost in a torrent of new releases arriving monthly in the shops, particularly as Frübeck isn't the "name" he once was. So don't make the mistake of passing this one by.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Mozart: Symphonies 38-41 / Blomstedt, Staatskapelle Dresden
Herbert Blomstedt has made more than 130 recordings with the Sächsische Staatskapelle Dresden. Most of them were made during his time as principal conductor between 1975 and 1985. Thanks to the fruitful cooperation between Denon and MDG, selected gems from this inexhaustible treasure chest are now available again. After the brilliant opening with Bruckner's Symphonies 4 and 7, now follows the legendary interpretation of Mozart's last four symphonies from 1981 and 1982. Blomstedt knows how to make perfect use of the qualities of what is probably the world's most tradition-steeped orchestra with it's "sound of old gold" (Karajan): The Adagio introduction to the Prague Symphony sets in powerfully. The magical sound of the strings fills the famous acoustic of Lukaskirche without any effort, and even in the surprisingly broad tempo, a wide-ranging musical arc develops, which can do without fashionable, superimposed drama. Cleverly and with the overview of a mature artist, Blomstedt arranges the relations between the movements as well as within the symphonic quadriga: the Allegro is fresh without being rushed; this creates space for a Presto that really deserves this name. Out of itself, the Schlager in G minor begins to glow, and the beginning of the "Jupiter" Symphony radiates with almost Olympian grandeur. Herbert Blomstedt is now 94 years old. He is still in demand on the world's most important podiums. His Mozart interpretations are already a historical document and yet timelessly valid. At that time, the Denon sound engineers were already among the best in the world. This also benefits these recordings in immaculate audiophile quality.
Piano Music Of Rodion Shchedrin / Marina Lomazov
Two of Rodion Shchedrin's works are entitled Concerto cantabile and Concerto sotto voce. These two epithets - sotto voce and cantabile - can be applied to much of his output. He produced bright, brilliant pieces (like the justly famous Carmen-Suite ballet), or works full of daring, rough folk humor (like the popular Concerto for Orchestra Naughty Limericks). Still, the core of Shchedrin's music is dark-hued, philosophic, often religious, always thoughtful. The spiritual closeness to Bach is evident, and not only in the abundance of old-fashioned polyphony. Probably the most successful of the Soviet composers that emerged in the Fifties under the shadow of Shostakovich, Shchedrin is the one with his face turned to the past. Not technically: he knows and uses all the atonal - polytonal - dodecaphonic - aleatoric - you name it - brushes. His music rarely grips you from the first measure: it requires submergence and listening. But when you are in - you are in. And you can be sure that the experience won't leave you with disappointing emptiness: those simple, sparse, seemingly tuneless constructs are genuine, deep music. It is strange. It is Art.
More and more of Shchedrin's music is recorded in the West, but these are mostly concertos and choral works of the latest years. The more welcome is then the all-Shchedrin piano recital of pieces from his first creative period, presented so sympathetically by Marina Lomazov.
I can't say that I completely understand the logic of the Piano Sonata of 1962. The second and third movements hold very naturally together - the second is a dim, deep abyss, the third a devilish toccata, burning like black fire. Preceding these two goes a much lighter Allegro da Sonata, like an echo of Petrushka's Shrovetide Fair. It is attached, but does not seem to belong.
The ten preludes from The Polyphonic Notebook (1972, the latest composition on this disc) are very interesting and rewarding. I wish all 25 were recorded, but even the present torso is a wonderful sequence, full of delicacy and balance. This is one of Shchedrin's Bachianas. The texture is sparse - listen to the lower voices!
The earliest composition - Poem of 1954 - could be a page from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet. The Humoresque, similarly, may evoke Prokofiev in his more angular self. Yet its voice is not derivative, and the piece is funny and memorable. A la Albéniz is a cold-smoke tango, with enough big pauses for glances, yes and nos, and other decisions. Together, these three miniatures show how multi-faced Shchedrin's muse can be.
The four pieces arranged from The Hump-backed Horse ballet bring to the front another big love of the composer: the Russian folk culture. The music is very sincere and innocent, which suits well the fairytale subject of the ballet.
Finally comes my favorite: Two Polyphonic Pieces. The Invention is hypnotic. As it is often with Shchedrin, you cannot pinpoint exactly where the “musical experience” is coming from. It's like plain pieces of mosaic summing up into a picture. Basso Ostinato is another virtuosic toccata, a veritable tour de force, completely enthralling. There are torrents of energy, like armies clashing in the night, order and chaos in search of a resolution.
Marina Lomazov is a perfect performer for this music. She never "overcooks" it; everything that needs to be dry stays dry. Yet there is all the required energy, and maybe even more. Lomazov plays with ultimate precision, but the result is not mechanical: it is human, personal and soulful, even in the most abstract constructs. There is this "transparent virtuosity" that does not expose itself glamorously, but works for the good of the music. And she does wonders with the rhythm. I wish she considered recording Prokofiev's Sonatas.
The recording quality is very satisfactory. The liner-notes are not especially generous. Still there is enough information about the works, the composer and the performer. This disc gives a good overview of Shchedrin's directions in his earlier years, and the selections from the Polyphonic Notebook are a real teaser. It is a multi-character program, recital-like, with changing moods and styles, not a unified album. It is a great introduction to Shchedrin's piano music. It is also a great introduction to a very fine pianist, Marina Lomazov.
-- Oleg Ledeniov, MusicWeb International
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
Cantigas de Amigo / Ensemble Alcatraz, Kitka
This hypnotically appealing recording of 13th century Galician-Portuguese songs and dances of love and longing for the absent beloved will enchant and soothe even the most agitated listener. The musical achievement that is CANTIGAS DE AMIGO, or "Songs for a Friend," owes far more than usual to the performers, for here, save for in six of the seven songs by Martin Codax, the performers have had to supply the music! The medieval cantigas exist as five hundred texts without music, so the performer must be trained in the history and style of performing for this time (the 1200s) and place (the Iberian Peninsula). One need only listen to the one Codax song that has come down to us without its music to assess the marvelous accomplishment of the combined forces of Ensemble Alcatraz, Kitka, and Angelorum. As an experiment, listen to all seven Codax songs (before reading the liner notes) and try to guess which song's music was newly composed for this recording-that's how good these performers are.
Beethoven: Complete Piano Sonatas / Roberts
The arrival on the scene of a bright new talent in the Beethoven Piano Sonatas in the form of the young Korean pianist HJ Lim (EMI Classics 50999 7041855 2) has prompted me to return to the Nimbus set. The virtues of complete sets by the likes of Alfred Brendel (Philips 438 1342 – see June 2011/2 Download Roundup) and Wilhelm Kempff (DG – see below) are well enough known but, for some reason, we seem never to have got around to reviewing the Nimbus set with Bernard Roberts. Not the least of its virtues is that, with some ingenious organisation, the CD set is far less bulky than you might imagine: the 11 CDs come in two double-size cases, holding five discs plus booklet and six discs respectively, all housed inside a cardboard slip case.
I actually started to write a review of the complete Nimbus set a year ago, and lost what I’d written, apart from some notes and jottings, when my computer crashed. I was able to piece some of these together in time for the November 2011/2 Download Roundup, but fortunately, when I lost what I’d written, my friend Geoffrey Molyneux, who knows a great deal more about pianism than I ever did and has owned the Nimbus set for some time, came to the rescue. I promised then to patch my notes back together to finish that review but got around only partially to doing it.
Whereas Roberts’ recordings arose from mature consideration, HJ Lim has committed the whole œuvre to disc at an early stage in her career, whether from brave assurance or youthful bravado I was very interested to find out. You can do so for yourself from the Naxos Music Library if you have access to that extremely valuable service. They offer both the first two 2-CD single volumes and the complete set. As they also have the Roberts recordings, that’s a good way to compare for yourself.
Volume 1 from Lim contains Sonatas 29 Hammerklavier, 11, 26 Les Adieux, 4, 9, 10, 13 Quasi una fantasia and 14 Moonlight ( 730092, 2 CDs for around £12.50). The complete set (omitting the Op.49 sonatas because Beethoven didn’t intend them for publication) comes on 8 CDs for around £40 ( 4649522). Those willing to download can obtain Volume 1 for £6.99 from sainsburysentertainment.co.uk. They also have the complete 8-CD set to download for £10.99, though you may prefer to obtain this from amazon.co.uk for £12.99, complete with the pdf version of the booklet.
Lim opens both Volume 1 and the complete set with the Hammerklavier Sonata. She takes the first movement at a cracking pace – 10:24 against Roberts’ 11:42, making her performance commensurate with Earl Wild, at 10:20 one of the fastest ever accounts (Ivory Classics 76001). I was impressed by her technique; it makes a barnstorming opening to the set, but it’s all a bit too much unvaried and ‘hell-for-leather’; at his slightly slower tempo Roberts achieves much more light and shade in this movement and throughout the work, not least in his reading of the slow movement, where his 17:58 allows him to achieve Innigkeit without sounding portentous. At 12:50 Lim is certainly appassionato; she doesn’t sound as rushed as I might have expected from the different timings, but she doesn’t quite achieve the affective quality demanded by the marking con molto sentimento.
Artur Schnabel’s recording of this sonata may come on an album subtitled ‘Scholar of the Piano’ (EMI Icons 2650642) but there’s much more than scholarship involved in his performance. This remains my benchmark, especially for the slow movement: his tempo almost exactly matches that of Roberts, but he captures the affective qualities even more without ever sounding ponderous. His recording comes with a degree of light surface noise, but it’s never excessive and the piano tone is truly remarkable for its age. Nevertheless, Roberts offers a better-recorded modern alternative that I can certainly live with.
I should add that reviewers have been very much divided about Lim’s performances; some have seen a great deal more of value in them than I have. In the finale of the Hammerklavier I hear some of the qualities that her admirers postulate – she’s actually very little faster overall than Schnabel and her playing is certainly risoluto – but my own ultimate judgement hinges on whether I would wish to add her complete recording or Volume 1 to my over-crowded collection. I have to say that I wouldn’t, even at the attractive prices that I’ve mentioned.
On the other hand, I would certainly have considered purchasing the Roberts set, especially at the special price of £28 post free for which it’s offered by MusicWeb International. You won’t even find them as a download for less. I know that I’m effectively blowing our own trumpet, but I dipped into sonatas from every period of Beethoven’s working life, comparing what I heard with other versions that I knew, and found that Roberts stood up well to the competition in every respect. He is not always top dog in a particular sonata, but nearly always close. The whole set is so inexpensive that I would recommend beginners to buy it and to add individual recordings later.
CD 1 of the Nimbus set gets off to a quiet start with Sonata No.1 from 1795. Though there are signs of the distinctive Beethoven manner to come here, Roberts doesn’t stress these by over-egging the pudding; he gives a very satisfying, neat, tidy, but not too delicate account, taken at a fairly brisk pace throughout, though never sounding rushed. The same is true of No.2 and No.3, which open CD 2 and CD 3 respectively.
You might expect Lim to do particularly well in these youthful sonatas, so I turned to her account of No.1 in expectation. Predictably her tempi are consistently a little faster than Roberts’, but not to a huge extent. There’s certainly lightness of touch but it’s allied with underlying strength and I enjoyed this performance.
Nimbus CD 1 closes with the Appassionata Sonata, from Beethoven’s middle period. Roberts gives this, right from the start, the soulful treatment which its name implies. In the opening movement he takes Beethoven’s marking allegro assai with a pinch of salt, perhaps thinking, as I have seen suggested, that Beethoven sometimes confused the French assez (fairly) and the Italian assai (very). Whatever the reason, 10:13 – almost a minute longer than most performances – seems to me to be reasonable for this movement, especially as Roberts indulges in a degree of rubato (not excessive) to achieve it. I’m with Roberts and his slightly weightier tempo here, but if you are looking for a compromise, Jenö Jandó on Naxos (8.550294, with No.21 and No.23) – as usual reliable without being exceptional – splits the difference between Roberts and the ‘mainstream’, as does Alfred Brendel on his early Vox recording (CDX-5042, 2 CDs: Nos.16-19, 21-23 and 26 – or Alto ALC1016, Nos.8, 14, 23 and 26). In his recording of the Appassionata with the Emperor Concerto (Philips 468 6662, with VPO/Rattle), Brendel is even closer to Roberts in this movement.
There’s respect for the marking andante con moto, too, from Roberts in the second movement, though I might have welcomed a slightly faster pace at the outset. In the finale he observes both parts of the marking ( allegro non troppo), so there’s nothing headlong, but there is plenty of power and emotion and the concluding bars are taken at a virtuoso pace. Overall I found this a very satisfying account, bringing a degree of new light to a well-known work without being at all quirky. Listening to it a second time was even more convincing.
Predictably, Lim allies herself throughout with those who take a faster view of this sonata, though her tempi are not extreme she actually takes the opening movement slightly slower than Angela Hewitt on the first volume of her Beethoven recordings. Lim takes the finale at quite a lick but so, for example, does Vladimir Ashkenazy (Decca Eloquence 480 1309). Though her version certainly works for me, so too does Roberts’.
If HJ Lim has set her interpretations down at an early stage in her career, David Wilde is something of a wonder for the opposite reason – though well into his seventies, he’s only just entered the limelight, yet he plays with a combination of the technique of a young virtuoso and the maturity of a seasoned practitioner on his recording of Nos. 21 Waldstein, 17 Tempest and 31 (Delphian DCD34090: Recording of the Month and November 2011/2 Download Roundup.)
The d minor Sonata, Op.31/2, the Tempest, dates from the transitional period between the earliest works, such as the Op.18 Quartets, and the very productive middle period. This was the period of the Third Piano Concerto when Beethoven’s music was beginning to break away from the influence of the previous generation of Haydn and Salieri. Wilde takes a more expansive view of the first movement, adopts roughly the same tempo as Roberts for the adagio, and is slightly faster in the allegretto finale. I thought Roberts somewhat routine in this sonata, especially in the adagio, which sounds ponderous rather than affective.
I certainly preferred Wilde in the finale, though Brian Reinhart, for all his admiration of the album as a whole, had some reservations here. Roberts’ finale offers us the letter of the music with exemplary technique, but it seems to miss the last degree of joy. I appreciate that it’s allegretto, not allegro, but I felt that Wilde’s 7:05 was more in the spirit of the music than Roberts’s 7:26. The latter seems to offer a view of a composer who is not yet completely his own man, not yet what Roberts himself describes in the brief notes as ‘dynamic, deeply expressive and visionary’. Lim rattles through this movement at an unbelievable 6:01; that’s preferable to Roberts and I can only marvel that none of the phrasing is slurred at this speed, but Wilde’s is the version of this sonata to have.
Though my recommendation of the Nimbus set overall holds, therefore, this illustrates the hazards of relying on just one artist throughout; for this sonata I’d certainly add another version. Though I listened to Roberts on CD and to Wilde from an mp3 download (albeit at the full 320kb/s rate, from classicsonline.com), which ought to give Roberts an edge, Wilde sounded more dynamic from the very opening of the first movement, the slow movement a little more expressive and the finale a little more joyful. Both Wilde and Roberts are preferable here to Thomas Sauer, whose recording of the Op.31 Sonatas I found somewhat wanting (MSR Classics MS1284).
David Wilde offers the middle-period Waldstein Sonata, No.21 on his new recording, one of the works also available separately from Nimbus. Wilde, who takes both sections very slightly faster than Roberts, is closer to the general consensus and on the whole slightly preferable. This time I think the contest between the two pianists a little less weighted in Wilde’s favour, though generally agreeing with Brian Reinhart, who thought this probably the highlight of the disc.
Lim plays the Waldstein on the second disc of Volume 2 – CD4 of the complete set. Here again, the tempo of the first movement is too hectic: at 9:58 against Wilde’s 10:48 and Roberts’s 11:05, the music doesn’t have time to breathe. The same is true of the Introduzione, here tracked as a separate movement, as on the Wilde recording. The final Rondo is a real tour de force combined with real delicacy in the slower sections, though the transition between the two can sound a little abrupt and brutal.
BR was slightly less impressed by Wilde’s take on the late sonata, Op.110. These late works are as difficult to bring off as the Late String Quartets with which they are contemporaneous; both perplexed Beethoven’s audiences and both can provide difficult listening even for modern ears.
There’s one set of the late sonatas that remains my benchmark: Wilhelm Kempff on DG E453 0102, an inexpensive 2-disc set of Nos. 27-32 from his 1960s stereo recordings. I didn’t consult him in the case of the Hammerklavier for fear of seeming to be unduly influenced by nostalgia, but I can’t resist calling Kempff into comparison for No.31, Op.110. Jens Laurson, writing about Kempff’s recordings in a survey of what was available at the time (2009) finds it hard to pin down exactly what it is that makes Kempff’s Beethoven so superb. Overall I can’t better his summing up – ‘Solid, in the best, most empathetically positive sense of the word.’
Kempff and Roberts adopt almost exactly the same tempo in each of the opening movements of Op.110, with Wilde just a little slower than either. All three combine the cantabile and molto espressivo aspects of the first movement very well. Wilde is a little faster in the adagio and fuga but, again, there’s very little in it. Kempff, on whose recording DG run these last two sections together, takes just 9:44 overall against Roberts’ 11:24 and Wilde’s 11:15. Both sections from Kempff are faster: his adagio is certainly more non troppo than from Roberts or Wilde, without losing any of its emotive power, and his fugue is certainly allegro without losing sight of the non troppo marking and without sounding hurried. As good as Roberts and Wilde are here, I’d certainly also want Kempff’s recording as an alternative.
Lim is even faster in the adagio and fuga – tracked together on her recording, as with Kempff, and coming in at just 8:34. She starts the adagio portentously and she’s generally both affective and effective in this section; by the clock she’s the fastest of all the recordings that I compared without seeming unduly hasty. Indeed, though she’s a minute faster overall even than Kempff, I enjoyed her take on this sonata more than I had expected.
Lim ends volume 1 with the Moonlight Sonata. In the first movement she’s notably faster than Roberts and at least some of the magic is lost thereby; a good deal less than you might imagine from the comparative timings, but Roberts captures the fantasia and allows us much better to see that the nickname is apt. I didn’t enjoy Lim’s tentative account of the second movement; it’s as if she were thinking out her approach on the spot where Roberts knows where he’s going from the start. Lim’s finale is sufficiently agitato but here again there’s too much of a scrabble, even at a basic tempo not much faster than that of Roberts, and I thought her less than fully involved with the music.
One advantage of the Delphian recording concerns the inclusion of Wilde’s own notes, which are informative not only about the music but also about some of his decisions in performance. Even at the extremely advantageous price, I could have wished that Nimbus had also offered more detailed notes; you get just the playing times plus two pages on the music and a page on Bernard Roberts. If you purchase the Lim complete recording as a download from amazon.co.uk, the booklet of notes comes as part of the deal; I haven’t seen this, but I understand that some of HJ Lim’s thoughts are a little bizarre.
Overall, then, I’d certainly strongly endorse the complete Nimbus set for reliable performances – often much than that – a decent quality of recording and sheer value. I’d want to supplement it with individual recordings from some of the artists whom I’ve mentioned. Regrettably, despite their availability at a most advantageous price, neither of the individual twofers from HJ Lim’s new recordings nor her complete set would be among them. Give her Beethoven a few years to settle down and a complete set from her may well be well worth hearing. Meanwhile, if you’re looking to supplement Roberts with performances from a young pianist on top form, try Ingrid Fliter in Nos. 8 Pathétique, 17 and 23 Appassionata (EMI 045732: Bargain of the Month and September 2011/2 Download Roundup).
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Deux Siecles d'Orgue / Lebegue, Bouvard, Desenclos, Espinasse, Robin
Two centuries of organ music at the Chapelle Royale, Versailles . . . The recently restored organ of the chapel bears witness to the glorious past of this historic site and the magnificence of the royal liturgy. This project, entrusted to the four resident organists of the instrument, presents a rich panorama of the composers who had the privilege of entering the Versailles organ loft, from the Couperin dynasty to Balbastre. It forms part of a new series produced by Alpha with the Château de Versailles, which will present the fruits of the latest research into the organ repertory in a sumptuous edition.
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
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
Barriere & De Bury: Sonates et suites pour le clavecin / Quintavalle
This set of discs is quite interesting: it brings together two French composers from the first half of the 18th century who are little known. That is to say: Jean-Baptiste Barrière is fairly well known, but almost exclusively as a pioneer of the cello in France. It is remarkable that the two collections which Luca Quintavalle has recorded were published at about the same time, but are stylistically very different.
Barrière was from Bordeaux and worked in Paris in 1730 as Musicien ordinaire de notre Académie Royale de Musique. In 1733 he was granted a privilege to publish sonatas and other instrumental works. He studied for some time in Italy, but there are different opinions on exactly when he was there. It is not that relevant from a musical point of view, because right from the start the Italian influence in his compositions is clearly discernible. His first two books with six sonatas each were printed in Paris in 1733 and 1735 respectively; these were followed in 1739 and 1740 by the third and fourth book. These collections show an increase in technical complexity and the last two books attest to Barrière's full embracing of the Italian style.
In 1739 he also published a book - as Livre V - for the pardessus de viole, the descant viol. It comprises six sonatas, the first five of which were also included in the book of harpsichord music which was published in the same year. These are not merely transcriptions but reworkings for a completely different instrument, including additional ornamentation, elaboration and idiomatic runs. These sonatas follow the Corellian trio sonata model: they comprise four movements in the order slow - fast - slow - fast. Barrière added a sixth sonata in three movements: andante - largetto (sic) - aria amoroso.
Their Italian character not only comes to the fore in the use of the form of the sonata. In fact, Barrière was the first French composer to write sonatas for keyboard. A further Italian trait is that the movements have exclusively Italian titles: adagio, allegro, andante, grave, largo, aria. The only dance included here is a sarabanda in the Sonata No. 2 in D. However, the most important token of Italian influence is the music itself. There are Neapolitan influences, but also references to the music of Vivaldi and Domenico Scarlatti. Some movements are quite dramatic; one of the most notable examples is the adagio which opens the Sonata No. 4 in G.
Barrière's harpsichord sonatas have little to do with tradition. Only one part of the Sonates et pièces can be connected to the French harpsichord school. The six pièces are character pieces as we know them from the oeuvre of, for instance, François Couperin. However, stylistically they are much closer to such pieces by the likes of Forqueray and especially his contemporary Joseph Nicolas Pancrace Royer (1705 - 1755). In the preface to his Premier Livre de pièces pour clavecin of 1746 Royer stated that "[the] pieces are open to great variety, passing from the tender to the lively, from the simple to the tumultuous, often successively within the same piece". That is the case with Barrière's character pieces as well; some indeed can be counted among the 'tumultuous', such as La Casamajor.
It is remarkable that the harpsichord pieces of the younger Bernard de Bury are more conservative than Barrière's. Much more than in the pieces by the latter we notice François Couperin's influence. His Premier livre de pièces de clavecin which dates from around 1736 includes several pieces whose titles are identical or almost identical with titles in the four harpsichord books of Couperin.
Bury came from a musical family; his father was ordinaire de la musique du roi. He spent his entire life and career in Versailles. He took several positions at the court; as maître de chapelle he succeeded his teacher Colin de Blamont, to whom he dedicated his harpsichord book. In 1785 he was ennobled by Louis XVI, five months before his death. In addition to his harpsichord works he composed music for the stage which found a positive reception.
Despite some Italian traits in his harpsichord music - just like in Couperin's ordres - his keyboard music is very French. The book comprises four suites of different lengths which include almost exclusively character pieces. The only exception is the loure in the 3e Suite in G. The chaconne which closes the 4e Suite in E and the entire collection, is one of the most telling tokens of this book's being part of the French tradition: hardly an opera was written without a chaconne and virtually every suite for keyboard or for an instrumental ensemble included a chaconne. There is no watershed between dances and character pieces: several of the latter were written in the form of a dance, or perhaps we should say that dances were given titles to indicate an extra-musical meaning. In the 1e Suite in A, for instance, we find a sarabande with the title Les Regrets. A form which Bury frequently uses is the rondeau, which was becoming increasingly popular in France around the mid-18th century.
Bury's harpsichord works have been recorded before, but are hardly known; they also seldom appear on programmes of recitals. As far as I know only a couple of pieces from Barrière's collection are available on disc; this is probably the first complete recording. I find that rather surprising, considering their quality and their historical importance. That makes this set a significant addition to the discography. This repertoire is served very well by Luca Quintavalle who delivers energetic and stylish performances. The brilliance of Barrières pieces and the different features of Bury's harpsichord works is convincingly conveyed. He plays a splendid instrument: a copy of a harpsichord by Pierre Donzelague of 1711. The miking is just right: it reveals enough details without losing the overall picture.
There is just one issue I need to mention. There is too little space between the pieces: the first movement of a sonata or a suite follows the last movement of the previous work almost attacca. That is an unlucky negligence on the side of the production team.
Considering the importance of the repertoire and the quality of music and interpretation this production deserves the label of Recording of the Month.
– MusicWeb International (Johan van Veen)
Auryn's Haydn Vol 1 Of 14 - Op. 1 / Auryn Quartet
Composer: Joseph Haydn (1732 - 1809)
Performers:
Matthias Lingenfelder, violin
Jens Oppermann, violin
Stewart Eaton, viola
Andreas Arndt, violoncello
Track Listing:
Disc One:
1. String quartet op. 1 No. 1, Hoboken III:1 in B flat Major: Presto
2. Minuet - Minuet secondo - Minuet primo da Capo
3. Adagio
4. Minuet - Trio - Minuet da Capo
5. Finale. Presto
6. String quartet op. 1 No. 2, Hoboken III:2 in E flat Major Allegro molto
7. Minuet - Trio - Minuet da Capo
8. Adagio
9. Minuet - Trio - Minuet da Capo
10. Finale. Presto
11. String quartet op. 1 No. 3, Hoboken III:3 in D Major Adagio
12. Menuet - Trio - Menuet da Capo
13. (Scherzo). Presto
14. Menuet - Trio - Menuet da Capo
15. (Finale). Presto J
Disc Two:
1. String quartet op. 1 No. 4, Hoboken III:4 in G Major Presto
2. Minuet - Trio - Minuet da Capo
3. Adagio
4. Minuet - Trio - Minuet da Capo
5. Finale. Presto
6. String quartet op. 1 No. 0, Hoboken II:6 in E flat Major Presto
7. Menuet - Trio - Menuet da Capo
8. Adagio
9. Menuet - Trio - Menuet da Capo
10. (Finale). Presto
11. String quartet op. 1 No. 6, Hoboken III:6 in C Major Presto assai
12. Minuet - Trio - Minuet da Capo
13. Adagio
14. Minuet - Trio - Minuet da Capo
15. Finale. Allegro
Timing: 97:54
Itzhak Perlman - Concertos, Sonatas & more...
R E V I E W S of some of the recordings that make up this set:
It's always fascinating to go back to the early recordings of artists who are firmly ensconced in the classical music pantheon. Such is the case with this recording of the Tchaikovsky and Sibelius concertos made by Itzhak Perlman in the late 1960s.
The Tchaikovsky concerto was written for virtuoso violinist Leopold Auer who actually thought the work unplayable. The young Perlman brings passion and flash to the concerto; his playing is suitably poetic in its sentimental moments and fiery in its finale. Sibelius's concerto was written about the same time that he wrote his second symphony. Perlman grasps the concerto's romantic soul while standing up to its demanding modernist technical challenges. As an added bonus the recording includes Dvorák's Romance, a gentle idyll that displays Perlman's lovely legato playing. -- MUZE [review of RCA 63591]
This album continues the tribute to classic film music from John Williams and Itzhak Perlman's CINEMA SERENADE disc. It is an undeniably old-fashioned and romantic album, befitting the era the music is drawn from. On "As Time Goes By" from CASABLANCA, Perlman proves that he's still one of the world's premier concert violinists, playing the theme with palpable ache. Most of these compositions are by the classic film composers--Alfred Newman, Miklós Rózsa, Max Steiner--with one notable exception. William Walton's theme for HENRY V gets a suitably regal, yet restrained, treatment. Perlman sounds as if he's having a good time with the sprightly Irish motifs of "The Quiet Man." The orchestrations are rich and dramatic, and the recording quality is superb. This album is highly recommended to anyone who remembers when a soundtrack was more than just a bunch of flavor-of-the-month pop tunes. -- MUZE [review of SONY 60773]
Prokofiev's F minor Sonata—surely his greatest chamber work—opens bleakly, then flowers to harmonic richness before switching to a sharp-edged Allegro brusco, a deeply introspective Andante and a closing Allegrissimo that recalls (or anticipates, depending on its precise chronology in Prokofiev's thinking) the finale of the great Eighth Piano Sonata... Perlman's is an immensely assured, sweet-centred reading, delicate where needs be (the ''wind in a graveyard'' passages of the first movement, for example) and yet with a Heifetzian resilience that both sonatas willingly respond to... When it comes to the delightful Second Sonata—of rather less import, and a second-hand utterance (the original was for flute and piano)—Perlman and Ashkenazy play with astonishing virtuosity and here their visceral virtues win hands down, especially in the Scherzo... the playing has real class, the recording is clean and there's a substantial bonus in Perlman's accomplished 1966 version of the Second Violin Concerto, where Leinsdorf and the Boston Symphony trace and characterize the score's every subtle detail—especially among the woodwind. That, for me, is the disc's most indelible interpretative feature. -- Gramophone [review of RCA 61454]