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The Art Of Egon Petri - Concert Performances & Broadcasts, 1954-1962
Music and Arts Programs of America · Aug 2013CD$36.99 -
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SaleGuitar Vibes: Music For Guitar And Strings / Elias, Netherlands Chamber Ensemble, Matangi Quartet
Brilliant Classics · May 2017CD$13.99$6.99 -
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Sibelius: Symphony No. 7; Orchestral Works / Collon, Finnish Radio Symphony
Ondine · May 2022CD$18.99 -
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Schreker: Orchestral Music from the Operas / Renes, Royal Swedish Orchestra
BIS · Oct 2016SACD$21.99 -
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SaleElegy - String Orchestra Music / Taddei, Borzak, Roma Tre Orchestra
Brilliant Classics · Apr 2023CD$13.99$10.99 -
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The Art Of Egon Petri - Concert Performances & Broadcasts, 1954-1962
There’s a caveat to be made about the actual piano sound on some of these off-air and private recordings; it can be rather harsh but it’s not at all unlistenable. There are also some imperfections to be expected – some wow and distortion (minimal and fleeting) some dropouts (ditto) as well as pitch distortion. These are all honestly noted in Music and Arts documentation and I should mention them here; they didn’t unduly trouble me. The repertoire is very much Petri’s canonical one – the last Beethoven sonatas, Busoni, Chopin as well as Bach-Busoni and Bach-Petri. He was always a charming exponent of Gluck, a more unexpected one here of Medtner. Of Liszt there’s but a fleeting glimpse – Venezia e Napoli, taped in the last year of his life.
We start with his Chopin Preludes Op. 28. Well, best to get this over with I suppose. I find his Chopin rather disappointing. His rubati in the Agitato opener are well judged if unexceptionable (he was known to scorn the emotive exaggerations of some of his colleagues) but he is very, very cool in No. 4, the Largo in E. There’s a dispassionate control in No. 6, a Lento from which, however, he seems to wish to expunge feeling. He is fine though in another Largo, No. 9 in E – his truly noble sound is affecting – but there isn’t enough distinction between the hands in No. 11, where he fails to differentiate the melody line in the right hand. There’s even a distribution between hands – something that seems to me afflicts No. 13 in F sharp as well. The Sostenuto in D flat (No. 15) is very dry playing indeed – Petri adamantine in his refusal to indulge colouristic potential; in addition his left hand covers the right at some crucial moments. He improves considerably for the B flat Presto and the power contained within as he does for the virility and energy of the Allegro appassionato conclusion (he omits Nos. 21 and 22 for some reason). Throughout I felt him most comfortable with the athletic, technical side of the Preludes and rather less indulgent towards the lyrical side that Busoni himself felt most ambivalent about. Of his Busoni indeed I could hardly say anything other than that it is magnificent. The Song of Victory from the Indian Diary is 1.16 of powerfully sustained pianism of an exalted level whilst the eloquence of the Bluebird Song shows that what he failed to do so glaringly in Chopin he could manifestly do in Busoni. The final dance shows off Petri’s superb rhythmic control, his colour and his sheer depth of tone (never overdone). He was seventy-seven when he was taped in Busoni’s All’Italia – sheer virtuosic panache. The disc finishes with twenty-five minutes of Petri with the eminent pianist Carlo Bussotti in a stratospherically impressive Fantasia Contrappuntistica; the two men seemingly joined at the musical hip so intense and marshalled their decisive vision.
The second disc is rather more bits and pieces – but what bits what pieces. The Medtner is very impressive playing indeed if not quite in the Moiseiwitsch or Medtner class. The Danza Festiva is rather heavier than the composer’s own recording but the Op. 20/2 Fairy Tale in B has some seismic attacks. The Schumann Fantasiestücke are in somewhat splintery sound but he plays them with rather more overt affection than he did the Chopin; the Allegro con fuoco second is sonorous, the third is affecting, without affectation, and the Vivacissimo, Dream Visions is full of filigree drive, albeit one accompanied by a degree of tape distortion. His own Bach Chorale arrangements are justly famous as are his recordings of them. Sheep may safely graze is nourishingly intimate and beautifully adept with its sudden pianissimi, whilst I step before Thy Throne grows in authority and grandeur. There’s little real difference between Petri’s 1930s recording of the Minuet (from the W.F. Bach Notebook) and this one, made in 1958. His Schubert-Liszt is duly frolicsome and the Nocturne in D flat has quite a lot more vivacity and colour than he lavished on the Préludes, albeit his rhythm is rather heavy.
The third disc gives us his trademark Gluck-Sgambati Melodie – and this time he must cede to his earlier self; he’s heavier, more emphatic, less treble oriented preferring to concentrate instead on the middle voicings. The captivating beauty of that earlier recording has been replaced by a philosophic depth that does seem rather alien to it. His Beethoven Op. 90 Sonata is characteristically plain speaking and strong; the second of the two movements is especially buoyant and decisive. The Chopin examples here, the Sonata in B and the Nocturne in F sharp, are vitiated by choppy rhythm. Petri was seventy-eight when these performances were taped so maybe that has something to do with it but whilst there are tonally delightful glints in the opening Allegro of the Sonata it sounds as if, like a mathematician, Petri were actively breaking the movement – and indeed the work as a whole – into units. The algebraic-philosophic-contrapuntalist approach here renders much of this very disappointing. I liked the lento much more though and whilst the presto finale again suffers from rhythmic insistence there are still compensatory features of colour and vivacity.
The final disc is in many ways the most consistently elevated in musical terms, principally because it finds Petri addressing Beethoven. There are some technical frailties in the opening of Op. 109, it’s true, but more important by far is the sense of powerful direction. Again the tiny Prestissimo second movement taxes him for a moment but we should concentrate on the Andante finale. Here Petri is very direct, almost casual, but as the movement advances and his architectural priorities become clearer we are aware of a mind of illuminating integrity at work. By the later variations he develops a degree of metrical flexibility that one would not have earlier suspected. There is no undue sentiment and I would certainly understand those who hold this to be a logician’s Beethoven. My own instincts are for something more overtly expressive but I can but admire the tremendous concentration of his approach. The A flat Sonata, Op. 110, again taped in 1954, certainly lacks to my ears the molto espressivo in the first movement requested of the performer. But Petri is careful to reserve the weight of his intelligence and tonal resources for the first, Adagio section of the finale. He keeps this moving with an almost Arietta delicacy, though he certainly employs weight and shading. The Fuga is strong and determined. In Op. 111 his Maestoso is fast, strong, with no great tonal beauty to it. I have to say I found it inflexible, on one level and rather superficial. It’s a performance that seeks to divide and fracture still further, rather than reconcile, the character of both movements. With a pianist such as Solomon the seemingly disparate and oppositional movements take on congruence and a retrospective sense of rightness. With Petri the implacably oppositional nature of the Sonata is starkly delineated. In that Arietta finale Petri is flexible without coming to a stop; his syncopated passages are driving, even a little peremptory, but he never seeks to extract huge weight of left hand tone or to indulge abstraction. This is intelligent, lean, technically adept and impressive playing, whatever ones view of its ability to move, which I happen to find relatively limited.
Documentation consists in the main of an interview between annotator Frederick Maroth and Petri’s English pupil, Claire James who had attended the famous Busoni-Petri two-piano London recital of 1921. They deal with the central features of Petri’s pianism with acumen, as one would expect, with some quietly revealing information disclosed along the way. This is a set of some real importance in capturing Petri’s art at a time when he was given considerably less than his due. Even at his most phlegmatic his brand of musical stoicism added an imperishable page to the annals of pianism on record in the twentieth century.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
MENTOR: BRITTEN & OLDHAM
Salut d'Amour / Jones, Thwaite
SALUT D’AMOUR • Matthew Jones (vn); Annabel Thwaite (pn) • SLEEVELESS 1006 (62:17)
GERSHWIN (arr. Heifetz) It Ain’t Necessarily So. MASSENET Méditation. CHOPIN Nocturnes: in c?; in D?. ELGAR Salut d’amour. FAURÉ (arr. Bachmann) Après un rêve. PONCE (arr. Heifetz) Estrellita. CASPI La Trenza. MONTI Czardas. SCHUBERT Impromptu in B?. HAHN Nocturne. IRELAND Cavatina. SIBELIUS Romance. KREISLER Praeludium and Allegro. TRADITIONAL (arr. Gover) Suo Gân
Serious-minded programmers (or, at least, programmers of a certain well-delineated stripe) almost banished short pieces, which had been the meat and potatoes of the recital program as well as of the recording industry, from stages and discs for about a generation. Now intrepid artists Matthew Jones and Annabel Thwaite have torn down the “Do Not Enter” signs and have risked their musical lives exploring the dangerous proscribed (politically incorrect?) repertoire that arguably ruined careers and reputations 50 years ago (but, of course, made them 50 years before that). And to their credit—or discredit—they play stylishly in Jascha Heifetz’s saucy transcription of George Gershwin’s song, It Ain’t Necessarily So —if not with Heifetz’s own dazzling aplomb, pleasantly excitingly at least. Jules Massenet’s Méditation may be the most beloved short piece ever played on the violin, and the duo plays it that way. The tone of Jones’s violin exhibits a sort of acidulous edge—just as did Aaron Rosand’s or Zino Francescatti’s, although in the cases of both those older violinists, the edge lent what they played a sort of sizzle that Jones’s playing lacks. Nathan Milstein made a very violinistic-sounding arrangement of Chopin’s Nocturne in C? Minor; and though that piece might have fit well in the program, Thwaite plays it as a piano solo—so sensitively and atmospherically that even violinists might be glad not to have heard the arrangement for violin. Jones and Thwaite realize much of the veiled emotion of Elgar’s popular miniature Salut d’amour as well as the quiet intensity of the beginning of Gabriel Fauré’s short piece, Après un rêve . Heifetz’s arrangement of Estrellita might have been his calling card, but Jones makes it his own as well in a reading that’s warmer and more tender.
The program includes some less well-known but no less effective interludes, of which Avshalom Caspi’s brooding miniature La Trenza proves to be the first example. Vittorio Monti’s Czardas , like Massenet’s Méditation , has been one of the most frequently heard of violin encores, penetrating the popular repertoire almost as deeply as the standard one. Jones remains faithful to the original version, but he plays it with gusto and appealing ethnic coloration. Thwaite takes Franz Schubert’s Impromptu as a piano solo, exhibiting a firm grasp of the piece’s shape and making the most of its growling lower registers. Reynaldo Hahn’s Nocturne, another of the less familiar cameos, sounds allusive and affecting in Jones’s reading, as does John Ireland’s Cavatina , a piece that may strike some listeners as perhaps a bit more effective than the vastly better known piece by the same name by Joachim Raff. Sibelius’s Romance provides yet another example of a relative unknown that fits perfectly into the program, and Jones invests it with melting warmth and insinuating subtlety. Chopin’s Nocturne in D? Major serves as the last of the Thwaite’s three effective piano solos.
Fritz Kreisler never recorded his own Praeludium and Allegro —by many accounts his very best short violin piece. Also, by Carl Flesch’s account, Kreisler didn’t take the Allegro particularly fast. And while the opening quarter notes may look bland on the page, violinists like Francescatti could bring them to life. So does Jones, who belts them out with the panache of Ethel Merman the first time and plays them almost tentatively the second. Like Kreisler himself, however, Jones makes no attempt to rush through the Allegro and deploys a variety of bow strokes to give extra personality to the perpetual motion. Following Francescatti in a way, he’s dazzling in the cadenza over a pedal point. The duo brings the program to a quiet conclusion with a Welsh lullaby, reflecting Jones’s ethnic origins.
If this isn’t the very CD of choice for a sojourn on a desert isle, I certainly wouldn’t use it as a Frisbee in that setting either. For its interesting repertoire, familiar and unfamiliar alike, for its sensitive and idiomatic performances, for its clear recorded sound, and, not least, for the novelty of including piano solos to punctuate it, Jones and Thwaite’s unpretentious but prepossessing recital should wear well after many, many hearings, whatever the venue. Strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
MOMENTS
Ambience
Bassoon Kaleidoscope / Bram Van Sambeek
Bram van Sambeek bassoon
Joost Bosdijk bassoon
Ellen Corver piano
Rick Stotijn double bass
Izhar Elias guitar
Marieke Schneemann flute
Sven Figee Hammond organ
Maria-Paula Majoor violin
Marijn Korff de Gidts drums
Repertoire:
• Böddecker: Sonata sopra la Monica (1651)
• Rossini:Three arias from Il barbiere di Siviglia (1816)
• Saint-Saëns: Sonata Op.168 (1921)
• Gubaidulina: Duo Sonata (1977)
• Piazzolla: Café 1930 (1986)
• Dubois: Sonatine Tango (1984)
• Corea:Trio (1968)
• Hagen: Harlem Nocturne (1939)
A more insanely varied program will be hard to find. ”Dutch Music Prize” winner Bram van Sambeek selected an extremely diverse repertoire, spanning 400 years, in which the bassoon plays a prominent role: from the Baroque elegance of Böddecker, through virtuoso variations of Rossini and Saint-Saëns, to the fascinating world of 20th century bassoon music by Gubaidulina, Piazzolla and Chick Corea: a true kaleidoscope!
Songbook / Jan Vogler, Ismo Eskelinen
"Songbook" presents partly pieces originally written for cello and guitar such as 3 Nocturnes by Friedrich Burgmüller (1806-1874) and the first movement of the Sonata for Guitar and Cello by Brazilian composerRadamés Gnattali (1906-1988).
"Songbook" also features several famous works in arrangements for guitar and cello: Cantabile by Niccolò Paganini (1782-1840), the Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie (1866-1925), the Suite Popular Española byManuel de Falla (1876-1946) as well as the famous Aria from Bachianas Brasileiras by the most famous South American composer Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959). The arrangement of Paganini's Cantabile appears on this album as a world premiere recording on guitar and cello. Also the Gymnopédie No. 1 by Satie is newly arranged for this recording by Jan Vogler himself.
The album also includes several movements from Histoire du Tango - one of the most famous compositions by the world's foremost composer of tango music, Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992). One of these movements, Bordel 1900, is as well a world premiere recording on guitar and cello.
Another first recording on this album is the arrangement of a world famous hit, Moon River by Henry Mancini (1924-1994). Winning an Academy Award for Best Original Song, Moon River has been indeed covered and recorded in hundreds of versions; but it's arrangement for cello and guitar has been recorded for the first time by Vogler and Eskelinen for this album.
A Tribute To Tchaikovsky: Vladimir Feltsman
A Tribute to Tchaikovsky is a very attractive CD compilation of short, tuneful pieces highly characteristic of the composer. I suppose it’s not what you would call great piano music, rather a collection of pleasant miniatures that delight the ear. Mr Feltsman calls it intimate salon music and that’s a very good description. The general style is very much in the same vein as Tchaikovsky’s more well-known work The Seasons; if that appeals to you so will the contents of this disc. Most of the items presented here don’t plumb any great musical depths but it’s all very melodic and charming. The Thème original et variations opens the recital in splendid fashion - there’s clearly an innate natural feeling for the idiom, sparkling technique and the playing is beautifully understated as befits this kind of music. There are some similarities to Schumann in this opening piece as the sleeve-note suggests but it’s also unmistakably by Tchaikovsky. The final flourish is tremendously exciting. Two minor masterpieces bring the disc to a conclusion, the Méditation Op. 72 No. 5 with its memorable opening theme and dramatic central climax and the enchanting, Liszt-like Chant élégiaque Op. 72 No.14. The rest of the programme really does enter the world of salon music. There are echoes of Chopin, Mendelssohn, Schubert and Liszt to be heard throughout this disc. It would be harsh to suggest that the works contained here are stylised or derivative. The recital is well planned with notable mood-changes from piece to piece - romances, waltzes and tender nocturnes all have their place alongside more lively, technically challenging numbers.
Vladimir Feltsman performs the whole programme in a gentle introverted fashion and this approach sounds absolutely right. The playing is first rate with tasteful rubato and excellent control of dynamics; every detail and nuance shines through. This isn’t really concert hall music as such and at no time does the playing become hectoring, over-emotional or virtuosic for the sake of it. It’s all very natural and enjoyable. The pianist’s programme notes state that the pieces in this recording were selected to be heard as a single composition. I personally fail to make any such connection but that’s not really important. What matters here is that we have a marvellous recital on our hands and it deserves to be successful.
The piano sound is good rather than outstanding. It’s typical of many modern digital recordings, sounding a bit top-heavy and thin and lacking a true, deep resonant bottom end. It doesn’t have the thrilling resonance of a live concert grand. At least the image is set slightly back, making it a comfortable experience and the music-making has a natural impact. This disc is very much for Tchaikovsky enthusiasts and lovers of tuneful, romantic piano music. I hope nobody is put off by the CD cover which features a rather grumpy looking Feltsman. The image doesn’t quite sit well with the tuneful gems included on this disc.
-- John Whitmore, MusicWeb International
Holst: Walt Whitman Overture, Ballet Suite / Braithwaite
Nicholas Braithwaite’s effervescent 1980 account of the winsome Suite de ballet sounded stunning on black disc and continues to do so on silver (Decca’s peerless Kenneth Wilkinson was the balance engineer; the sumptuous acoustic is that of Kingsway Hall). All else is new to the catalogue. The three suites were set down in Watford Town Hall during summer 1993, while the Walt Whitman Overture was taped in the same venue in January 1988. The mind boggles at how performances and recordings of such superior quality can have remained mothballed for so long.
Holst composed the Overture and Suite de ballet during 1899 while on tour as repetiteur and trombonist with the Carl Rosa Opera Company. In neither will you glimpse any vestige of the mature composer (the overture doffs its hat to Brahms) but both parade a host of felicities and are given with palpable dedication here. Gordon Jacob made these skilful and sympathetic orchestrations of Holst’s two military-band suites in 1940 and 1945 (with No 2 renamed the Hampshire Suite – the majority of the folksongs it quotes hail from that county). Under Boult, No 1’s March bowls along with the greater unbuttoned panache, but there’s not much in it.
Commissioned as a test piece for the 1928 National Brass Band Festival, A Moorside Suite has long been a personal favourite (don’t deprive yourself of hearing the Grimethorpe Colliery Band’s unforgettable 1977 Decca recording, 3/86 – nla). Jacob’s affectionate reworking followed in 1952, and Braithwaite and the LPO relish its many deft touches. (On two copies I’ve tried there’s a tiny electronic-sounding blip at 3'04" in the haunting central Nocturne.) Attractively presented (the lucid and detailed booklet-essay is, curiously, uncredited), this release makes consistently enjoyable listening.
-- Andrew Achenbach, Gramophone [5/2007]
Vasks: Piano Works / Reinis Zarinš
The love for the Latvian landscape is audible in the piano works of Latvia’s greatest living composer, Peteris Vasks (b. 1946), especially in his Seasons, the composer’s most frequently performed piano work. For this album pianist Reinis Zarinš has brought two other piano works alongside The Seasons as first recordings: Vasks’ early piano work Cycle (Zyklus) from the 1970s, and a new piano work, Cuckoo’s Voice. Spring Elegy (2021), written by the composer for Reinis Zarinš during the pandemic.
Ever since his concerto debut at the age of ten, Reinis Zariņš has performed as a concerto soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician throughout Europe and North America. He has participated in prestigious music festivals including the Lucerne Festival, the Bath International Music Festival, and the Scotia Festival of Music. His thoughtful virtuosity has delighted audiences at Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw, London’s Wigmore Hall, New York’s Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, and the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall in Moscow. Reinis has collaborated with leading orchestras including the London Philharmonic Orchestra, the Moscow Chamber Orchestra, Kremerata Baltica, and the Ostrobothnian Chamber Orchestra, and with conductors Pierre Boulez, Peter Eötvös, Pablo Heras-Casado, and Andris Poga, among others.
REVIEWS:
Alongside the world premiere recording of Vasks’ first-ever piano piece Cycle (1976) and the epic, complete The Seasons — four freestanding works composed between 1980 and 2008 — Cuckoo’s Voice—Spring Elegy (2021) serves to reinforce a sense of the importance to Vasks of his ongoing calling ‘that he must, until his last breath, glorify God’s world and people and his fatherland’, as Zariņš puts it. Yet, while Cycle especially is a welcome reminder of Vasks’ more astringent youthful style, and his writing is never less than intensely felt, there’s little trace here of the outright anguish that has often characterized his better-known string pieces. It’s as if Vasks is writing from inside nature as opposed to merely observing it: there’s an overarching stillness and acceptance within the sometimes dramatic push-pull of growth and decay explored throughout—and the contrasting moods he traverses ultimately nestle within that bigger process, albeit to varying degrees of comfort.
Zariņš’s impeccable pianism is hugely to thank for this, and his capacity to trace cohesive narratives through often lengthy, apparently free-wheeling but rigorously composed, works. Most satisfying is ‘Autumn Music’ (1981) which looks stylistically backwards and forwards even as it rounds The Seasons and the album itself.
-- BBC Music Magazine
This has the premiere recordings of Zyklus (Cycle) from 1976 and Cuckoo’s Voice. Spring Elegy from 2021. Cuckoo’s Voice is improvisatory and generally meditative, though it does have a few clamorous climaxes. Then Cycle bursts in with notes firing as if from a machine gun, taunting and acerbic. Its pauses are foreboding. Zarins brings out some impressive sounds from the insides of the piano: gradations of pizzicato and a pulsing, ringing “wub-wub-wub” from some low frequencies at the end of the ‘Prologue’. Most string-plucking from pianists sounds awkward, but Zarins gets loveliness out of it, even evoking a zither in the ‘Nocturne’. The repetitive rumblings and clattering chords of ‘Drama’ are too close to pompous avant-garde pounding for my taste, though I have to admit that Vasks manages to preserve his own Baltic voice through it all. The ‘Epilogue’ ties the preceding movements together and ends with what sounds like bricks dropping onto the strings.
The Seasons clocks in at 52 minutes. ‘White Scenery’ is a somewhat minimalist reverie, while ‘Spring Music’ goes for nearly 20 minutes, rippling and ringing and shaking the whole world by the collar with vernal urgency. This spring is the opposite of the English pastoral type and more like a tempered, transparent version of one of Messiaen’s bird-song pieces. The harmonies of ‘Green Scenery’ veer closer to England, but the repeated chords soon turn to tedium. Irritation turns to exasperation in ‘Autumn Music’ and its unending strings of repeated notes similar to tremolo on a guitar. It is more bearable when I concentrate on it (rather than, say, listening to it in the car), but rarely has a piece driven me up the wall so quickly.
Zarins’s playing is superb, and any Vasks fan will want this.
-- American Record Guide (Stephen Page)
Pianist Reinis Zarinš impresses with evocative music-making. In coaxing beautiful colors from the piano, he renders well the more subtle as well as the more immediate moods of the music.
-- Pizzicato
Music For Harp And Piano / Anna Pasetti, Michele Gioiosa
The repertoire for harp and piano is modest indeed; only Carlos Salzedo’s Sonata (1922) enjoys any currency on disc. However, the combination of plucked and keyed chromatic instruments is one that affords any number of imaginative possibilities and a broad palette of timbres, especially in the contrasting sustain and decay patterns of each instrument. For her second album on Brilliant Classics, after the critical success of ‘Dionysus and Apollo’ (95925, featuring equally rare Romantic flute and harp repertoire), Anna Pasetti explores the work of four mostly Milanese-based composers. First among them is Francesco Pollini, dedicatee of Bellini’s I Sonnambula and composer of a ‘Grande Sonate’ in a concertante style, exploiting the idiomatic contrast between the instruments to the full. The Capriccio by Benedetto Negri is written in the form of a nocturnal divertimento typical for the time: a cantabile introduction prefacing an elaborate variation set with a brilliantly figured coda. Best known of our quartet is Saverio Mercadante for his operas and florid variation sets on popular operatic themes which cling to the fringes of the instrumental repertoire, especially for flute. His rhapsodic Melodia is a chamber arrangement of a concertante work for harp and small orchestra, with an opportunity for improvised virtuosity in the form of a cadenza which Pasetti has devised for herself. Neapolitan by birth and training as an operatic composer, Lauro Rossi took charge of Milan’s conservatoire before succeeding Mercadante at the head of the Naples conservatoire. His Divertimento is an early work, dedicated to a talented pair of musician sisters, in which the piano takes the lead role, unlike the other works here.
Morricone: Cinema Rarities / Serino, Orchestra di Padova e del Veneto
The idea for this album came about during the recording of its predecessor Cinema Suites (BBC Music Magazine’s “Screen Choice”, Album of the Week on WDR3 etc.), when the Morricone family sent Marco Serino a number of rarities that they hoped could also be recorded, particularly “Dedicated to Maria” (from the film The Sleeping Wife) that the composer had dedicated to his wife. These works, along with others that Serino rediscovered in his own archives, make up the backbone of Cinema Rarities, an ideal sequel to the previous recording.
After twenty years as Ennio Morricone’s chosen violinist, Serino continues his exploration of the compositions for violin and orchestra, but this time with a particular focus on pieces that, besides being less well known to the wider public, all share a degree of “Italianness”.
The main nucleus of the program consists of three suites named after three Italian film directors (Silvano Agosti, Mauro Bolognini and the Taviani brothers), with whom Morricone worked closely. Although the respective films did not achieve the international acclaim of those directed by Sergio Leone or Giuseppe Tornatore, which featured in the previous recording, they inspired the composer to come up with new and distinctive solutions, such as “Love Remembered” from The Inheritance, considered by Marco Serino to be one of the most beautiful.
Equally quintessentially Italian are the two extracts from the scores for The Lady Caliph directed by Alberto Bevilacqua, including the lovely “Nocturne” and the brief “Quasi un Vivaldi” (from Sergio Sollima’s film Revolver), which herald by almost a decade remakes like Gian Piero Reverberi’s Rondò Veneziano. A unique place is occupied by Four Adagios, a collection of four pieces chosen by the composer himself (including the iconic “Whoever” and “Deborah’s Theme”), which in this arrangement for violin cites the main theme of the first movement of the Beethoven Concerto. Dedicated to Serino and performed worldwide under the baton of Morricone, Four Adagios speaks to the artistic partnership between composer and violinist, their mutual professional respect and deep friendship.
Kevin Swierkosz-Lenart: Luminaria
A Vision in a Dream - Concertos by Edward Gregson
Harsanyi: Complete Piano Works, Vol. 1 / Koukl
Guitar Vibes: Music For Guitar And Strings / Elias, Netherlands Chamber Ensemble, Matangi Quartet
Izhar Elias has produced several successful and imaginative albums for Brilliant Classics. None of them have confirmed to a ‘Spanish guitar’ stereotype but all have engaged in various original ways with the developing heritage of the instrument during the 19th century, from ‘Paisiello in Vienna’ (BC95301) to ‘Beethoven and the Guitar’ (BC94631) to Giuliani’s astonishing transcription of Rossini’s grand tragedy Semiramide (BC93902). His latest recording brings the classical guitar up to date with works by composers from four different countries; within them may be heard influences from classical music, avant-garde, Caribbean music, Spanish folklore, flamenco, Arabic music, blues, Argentinean tango and even trip-hop and heavy metal: provocative testament to the world’s most versatile instrument. The Guernica Suite by Pujol (b.1959) focuses on different aspects of Picasso’s painting in six movements, with a tentatively positive conclusion. The Triptych of Roberto Sierra (b.1953) evokes some nocturnal sounds from his native Puerto Rico, including the tropical tree frog as well as a night on the tiles. The three Danzas Concertantes pulse and glide with the rhythms of Leo Brouwer’s native Cuba, offset by some astringent harmonies that place the guitar’s usual role as purveyor of folkloristic colour under threat. Finally there is the Schattenspiel Suite by Florian Magnus Maier (b.1973), who also plays electric Moog guitar on this recording. Maier pursues a diverse career as a composer, guitarist and vocalist with bands including Alkaloid, Dark Fortress and Noneuclid; this tripartite suite inspired by shadows is his best-known work in the classical tradition, and for this recording he has made a new arrangement for two guitars and string quartet. There is something for everyone on this album: it’s essential listening for guitar-music enthusiasts who want to broaden their horizons.
Bach: Goldberg Variations / Klára Würtz
A superb, collector’s-item vinyl transfer for a recent and widely acclaimed recording of Bach’s nocturnal meditations. When Piano Classics released this recording of the Goldberg Variations on CD in 2022, critics praised its natural phrasing and unobtrusively skilful and sensitive response to the technical demands made by Bach in his most virtuosic piece of keyboard writing.
According to Fanfare magazine, the playing of Klára Würtz ‘has limpid clarity, and rhythmic firmness and exactitude; her articulation is clean and nimble (she has a cleaner trill than Perahia), and her voicing of different lines is splendidly balanced. Her rapid playing is vigorous, her slower playing has calm repose. Her interpretive outlook has spirit and vivacity, but also a total sense of confidence and security, the kind of integrity that needs no ostentatious display to make its mark of absolute rightness... Perahia now has a pianistic rival on my shelf; strongly recommended.’ Reviewers elsewhere were hardly less enthusiastic. ‘Cards on the table, what Würtz’s Goldbergs offer is calm appreciation of the music’s manifold beauties,’ according to Rob Cowan in Gramophone. ‘Her pianism sidesteps overt display or affectedness in favour of purely musical values... This for me is truly great piano playing, a direct route to the soul with no tiresome diversions along the way.’ Vinyl collectors can now enjoy this superb recording in a new transfer made for analogue at the Edel factory in Hamburg, which specialises in collector’s print LP editions such as this one.
The heavy-grade vinyl has exemplary quiet surfaces, and the Dutch church acoustics of the original recording gain a rounded, luminous quality which ideally complements Klára Würtz’s pianism. The set is issued as a 2LP gatefold with booklet notes on the inner sleeve.
Sibelius: Symphony No. 7; Orchestral Works / Collon, Finnish Radio Symphony
Fine performances, yes, but also a comprehensive, watertight Sibelius album to cherish.
Conductor Nicholas Collon began as the new Chief Conductor of the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra in September 2021. This all-Sibelius program, carefully selected by the conductor, is his debut album together with his new orchestra. Collon offers fresh and modern interpretation of Sibelius’ symphonic testament, the 7th Symphony, and brings to life the color and drama of Sibelius’ incidental music for two plays – Maeterlinck’s famous Pelléas et Mélisande and the historic King Christian II.
The Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra (FRSO) is the orchestra of the Finnish Broadcasting Company (Yle), and its mission is to produce and promote Finnish musical culture. The Radio Orchestra of ten players founded in 1927 grew to symphony orchestra proportions in the 1960s. Its Chief Conductors have been Toivo Haapanen, Nils-Eric Fougstedt, Paavo Berglund, Okko Kamu, Leif Segerstam, Jukka-Pekka Saraste, Sakari Oramo, Hannu Lintu, and as of autumn 2021 Nicholas Collon. In addition to the great Classical-Romantic masterpieces, the latest contemporary music is a major item in the repertoire of the FRSO, which each year premieres a number of Yle commissions.
REVIEW:
This is a rooted performance of Sibelius’s last symphony from the first non-Finn to lead the orchestra of the Finnish Broadcasting Company, one with true gravitas but little grandstanding.
Everything is clear in Collon’s recording but the moving parts heave despite the sure momentum, giving the discourse a visceral edge. The slight burgeoning of each note in the trombone motto, which blossoms but is traced more than declaimed, is indicative of the bigger picture: careful, sure but unobtrusive phrasing that moves the music on while conveying, especially in the final pages, the wrenching strain that is the essential precursor to that final, pained C major. Laura Heikinheimo’s sound is ideal in conveying the sense of gravitational, inevitable progress.
‘Élégie’ from King Christian II and ‘The Death of Melisande’ from Pelleas and Melisande need a special tenderness and space and get it but there are numbers in which Collon sounds absorbed by Sibelius’s creation of miniature structural marvels. Rarely have I heard the ‘Nocturne’ from King Christian II come to fruition like a miniature Symphony No 2, nor its ‘Ballade’ sound like a little sister to Pohjola’s Daughter.
But this is theater music and Collon sacrifices no greasepaint in his pursuit of structural logic. Perhaps it’s the cool finesse of the FRSO woodwinds, in particular, that succeed in drawing us into a sense of collective history in the old dances and old instruments (or imitations thereof) that characterize the music for King Christian II. It takes considered playing and extreme focus to reflect the ambiguities and fleeting emptiness of Pelleas. The broad bow strokes of ‘At the Castle Gate’, the steady withdrawal of ‘The Death of Melisande’ and the sinister lapping of ‘At the Seashore’ all speak of musicians well inside this music and determined to think patiently about its particular colors. Fine performances, yes, but also a comprehensive, watertight Sibelius album to cherish.
-- Gramophone
Schreker: Orchestral Music from the Operas / Renes, Royal Swedish Orchestra
As for the recording, the huge climaxes are fearless: no detail goes unremarked and perspectives are very convincing indeed. Schreker’s more delicate touches are also well caught, and timbres are always true. The playing combines body with boldness, passion with polish, and Renes shapes it all like a seasoned pro. Yes, this large-scale performance – with sonics to match – belongs firmly in the concert hall rather than the theatre, but it’s none the worse for that.
Next up is the prelude to Die Gezeichneten (The Stigmatized), set in 16th-century Genoa. It centres on a lurid love triangle that wouldn’t look out of place in a Jacobean tragedy. This opulent opener also has the feel of a Hollywood blockbuster of the 1930s or 1940s. That’s not a criticism, for many of those great film scores were penned by Austro-German composers who fled to the US before the War. There’s surprising delicacy in this score – I revelled in the gorgeous harp writing – not to mention a Romantic blush that reminds me of Gurre-Lieder at times. If this piques your interest see Rob Barnett’s review of Gerd Albrecht’s complete recording.
Composed in 1933 Schreker’s Vorspiel zu einer großen Oper (Prelude to a Drama) is an expanded concert version of the prelude to Die Gezeichneten, which the conductor Felix Weingartner had commissioned 20 years earlier. At 22 minutes it’s the longest piece here. It’s also one of the most satisfying, as it combines a powerful sense of drama with a strong, tight musical structure. There are some startling things here, not least the extended passage in which the timpanist plays a quietly insistent two-note figure as part of a magical dialogue with the orchestra. The recording is especially effective at this point, the timps ideally placed in a deep, wide soundstage.
Although Schreker’s two-act opera Das Spielwerk und die Prinzessin (The Music Box and the Princess) failed miserably in both Frankfurt and Vienna the prelude to this fairy tale is delightful. Textures are wonderfully transparent and those warbling woodwind figures are a telling touch. Rhythms are subtly articulated, tuttis are always proportionate and it all hangs together very well. That said, there’s a rather dated feel to the score, which might explain its poor reception. Still, the playing is alert and refined, the recording warm and clear.
Nachtstu?ck (Nocturne) – the Act 3 interlude from Schreker’s opera Der ferne Klang (The Distant Sound) – was actually premiered three years before the work from which it’s taken. The opera tells the story of Fritz, a composer who loves one Grete Graumann but who can’t marry until he’s written a great piece and found the mysterious sound that haunts him so. The nocturne – which begins with a rocking theme underpinned by gentle tam-ram strokes – manages to be both refulgent and restrained, blending Straussian amplitude with an iridescent fan of ravishing colours.
I suspect most people who listen to operatic ‘chunks’ know little and care less about the narrative that surrounds them. One certainly doesn’t need to know the details of Wagner’s Ring to enjoy the splendid excerpts. That’s also true of these Schreker pieces, which work rather well on their own. Would this collection tempt me to try the full operas? Perhaps, but for all its craft and colour Schreker’s sound world seems at odds with the times – rather like the later novels of Thomas Hardy – his medieval/fairy-tale plots equally so. Music to relish, if not to love. The detailed liner-notes are by Horst A. Scholz.
Little-known repertoire, superbly played and recorded; go on, treat yourself.
– MusicWeb International (Dan Morgan)
Magpie - Solo & Chamber Works by Kevin Raftery
Haydn Edition
Elegy - String Orchestra Music / Taddei, Borzak, Roma Tre Orchestra
Hidden behind the late 19th century’s great symphonies, sumptuous ballets, and concertos with moving climaxes is something much more thoughtful and contemplative. This secret landscape comes courtesy of a few precious pieces for string orchestra by three Russian composers, all active at approximately the same time.
The extremely simple theme in 3/4, from Glazunov’s Theme and Variations in G Minor, Op. 97, has the feel of a solemn, ancient dance, simultaneously nostalgic and sombre. In another example of Glazunov’s crystal-clear yet expressive writing, the string orchestra provides the backdrop and conversation partner for a solo instrument that was a rarity in concertos at the time: the saxophone. Overall, despite the explosive counterpoint in the work’s final movement, it is a dreamy composition, never overly dramatic, and subdued and melancholy in places: almost elegiac, in other words.
The two elegies Tchaikovsky composed for string orchestra are highly refined works that reveal another side to the famous composer. In the same period that Tchaikovsky was writing his elegies, between 1880 and 1885, the composer and chemist Alexander Borodin was drafting his second Quartet. The third movement, a Nocturne, is one of Borodin’s finest works. It was therefore not only written at the same time as Tchaikovsky’s elegies, but also shares their gracefulness.
REVIEW:
Sieva Borzak (b. 1997) serves as the Conductor-in-Residence of the Roma Tre Orchestra, a collegiate ensemble that, when founded in 2005, became the first of its kind in central Italy.
The young musicians play with an artistic maturity and sensitivity well beyond their age; and the entire program bathes the listener in the timeless and contemplative romantic soundscape of the pre-Soviet school. Even so, this remains a student ensemble; and moments of stunning beauty are sometimes followed by shaky intonation and patchy teamwork. Taddei has all the tools for a solo career, executing the Glazounov concerto with splendid poise, expressive phrasing, and superb technique; but his free-blowing set-up always seems on the edge of spreading, even if his control is very good. Nevertheless, this is a fascinating preview of what the next generation of Italian talent has to offer.
-- American Record Guide
Lajtha: Symphonies Nos. 5 & 6 / Pasquet, Pecs Symphony
Lázsló Lajtha was one of the most significant Hungarian composers of the 20th century, yet his international recognition suffered under Communist suppression and his remarkable oeuvre remains neglected. Described by the composer as "very tragic, epic, like a ballad", the Fifth Symphony is a heartfelt and forceful statement reflecting persecution and the elusive nature of hope. With its moments of nocturnal enchantment and sparkling humor, the Sixth Symphony is enriched by uniquely colorful orchedstration. These moods are also present in the wittily brilliant overture to Lajtha's ballet Lysistrata.