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Bach, Couperin, Purcell et al: Kagami - Mirror / Uemara, Miranda, Zylberajch
Ramee · Sep 2023CD$20.99 -
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Gluck: Iphigenie En Aulide, Iphigenie En Tauride / Minkowski, Gens, Delunsch
Opus Arte · Mar 2013DVD$39.99 -
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Franck: Complete Organ Works / Hans-Eberhard Roß
FRANCK COMPLETE ORGAN WORKS • Hans-Eberhard Roß (org) • AUDITE 21413 (6 CDs: 411:46)
When it comes to the organ, I think it’s safe to say that César Franck is the most important composer since Bach, and here we have a survey of Franck’s organ music so complete that it would take an entire page to list the entire contents of these six discs in standard Fanfare headnote format. In fact, there’s not another collection in existence this complete—not Jean Guillou’s, Marie-Claire Alain’s, Anthony Newman’s, or anyone else’s—since whole discs full of items here are flagged as being premiere recordings, premiere recordings for organ, premiere complete recordings, or premiere complete recordings for organ. So, I have decided to describe the set’s contents on a disc-by-disc basis. Let me forewarn the reader, though, that this is a release dedicated to the doggedly determined among lovers of organ music in general and Franck’s organ music in particular.
Organist Hans-Eberhard Roß performs all 142 pieces on a single instrument, the Goll organ at St. Martin’s Church in Memmingen, Germany. I haven’t been able to find any detailed information on the organ builder, but the enclosed booklet gives the following specifications for the organ: built in 1998, it has four manuals plus pedal, controlling 62 registers. The recordings were made between 2004 and 2005 and were originally released in three two-disc sets in SACD. The boxed-up, six-disc set that came to me for review was on standard, two-channel CDs.
One criticism I will lodge about the presentation is this: the track listings for every piece give the date it was composed, the date it was published, and which of nine editions Roß uses. This last bit of information about the editions may be of interest to the musicologist or scholar studying Franck’s organ works, but more interesting to the general listener, I think, would have been a concordance of stops and registrations used for each piece, something I’ve seen in the notes to other organ recordings, and something that ought, I think, to be material to an undertaking of this seriousness.
Disc 1 starts off with a first-time recording of Pièce en mi bémol ; i.e., Piece in E?. Of course, you’d have to listen to it to know if it was major or minor, but I’ll save you the effort. It’s more or less both, opening with a chord progression that eerily anticipates the ear-curling pronouncement at the beginning of Poulenc’s Organ Concerto. This is followed by another early work, Pièce pour Grand Orgue . It’s not asterisked as a premiere recording but is nonetheless absent from current listings except for this version. Several more early works fill the first disc, all dating from between 1854 and 1856. There are five pieces by Franck originally written for harmonium and transcribed for organ by Louis Vierne, and this is their first time on record. Also a first on record is a first version of a Fantaisie in C Major. Its second version, apparently not a first on record, is also included on the disc. Roß, himself, has transcribed the harmonium piece, Quasi Marcia , op. 22, and plays it here for the first time on organ.
If it’s mainly a CD of Franck’s big organ hits you want, you would be happy with just disc 2. They’re all there in one place: the Fantaisie in C Major, op. 16, the Grand Pièce Symphonique , op. 17, the Prélude, Fugue, et Variation , op. 18, the Pastorale , op. 19, Prière , op. 20, and Final, op. 21.
Disc 3 contains no fewer than 39 short pieces collected under the heading of Posthumous Pieces for Harmonium or Organ with Pedal for L’Office Ordinaire . This spills over onto disc 4, which contains another seven pieces that are part of the same collection. The fourth disc is then filled out by Three Pieces for Grand Organ , a Petit Offertoire , and an Untitled piece, that last two of which were both originally for harmonium. The entire contents of discs 3 and 4, with the exception of the Three Pieces for Grand Organ , are flagged with three asterisks (***), referencing the fact that they are heard here for the first time complete on organ.
Disc 5 and almost all of disc 6 are occupied by Franck’s answer to Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier , the sets of Pieces for Organ or Harmonium. The number seven must have held some mystical significance for Franck because there are nine sets of these pieces, each containing seven numbers, beginning with 7 Pieces in C Major and C Minor , progressing to 7 Pieces in D?-Major and C?-Minor , then to 7 Pieces in D Major and D Minor , which he subtitles, Pour le temps de Noël , and so on. The cycle stops after the 7 Pieces in A?-Major and G?-Minor , leaving the keys of A, B?, and B unexplored. There’s nothing mysterious or supernatural about the reason; Franck died before he was able to finish the project. The entirety of the Pieces for Organ or Harmonium is also thrice asterisked, meaning this is its first complete recording on organ. The final disc in the set concludes with the 3 Chorales for Grand Organ.
At first, I was a bit skeptical of how Franck’s organ music would sound on a modern, German-built instrument. It’s difficult to disassociate these works from the Cavaillé-Coll organs that inspired them. Much of this music, in fact, was composed during Franck’s tenure as organist and maître de chapelle at Sainte-Clotilde between 1858 and 1872. Of the three-manual plus pedal Cavaillé-Coll organ installed in the church, Franck is quoted as saying, “If you only knew how I love this instrument . . . it is so supple beneath my fingers and so obedient to all my thoughts.”
Concluding the 63-page booklet note by Martin Weyer (translated by Viola Scheffel) is a lengthy apologia in defense of playing these works on a Goll organ. The author twists himself in knots talking about the historical period-instrument movement and then tries to turn the argument on its head by explaining why this modern Goll instrument is an appropriate substitute for a Cavaillé-Coll organ and Franck’s music. “Upon hearing the instrument,” Weyer contends, “one will discover a lot of similarities to the sort of instrument that Franck found inspiring.” One could counter that many an organist has recorded Franck’s organ works on authentic Cavaillé-Coll instruments, and that if organist Hans-Eberhard Roß had betaken himself to France to make these recordings, he could have done likewise. But, as far as I’m concerned, the point is irrelevant. Roß is a consummately accomplished player who uses the richly variegated palette of the Goll organ to paint Franck’s pieces in an amazing array of tonal color combinations both bright and subtle, and the acoustic of Memmingen’s St. Martin church, perfectly captured by Audite’s engineers, is ideal. Franck and Cavaillé-Coll are nodding their heads in approval.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Gulda: Sinfonie in G - Heidelberger Hazztage 1971
Gulda's “Symphony in G“, presented on this album, was discovered in the SWR archive in the course of research for the release of all the recordings the Austrian pianist made for the German Southwest Broadcasting Corporation (SWR). Until now nobody actually knew that this work existed for there are no indications of Gulda being commissioned or of a specific occasion for which he might have composed this symphony. Therefore, one listens here to the world première of a piece which – apart from being recorded in the studio on 20 November 1970 – has never been performed in public. At the beginning of the 1970s Gulda gave concerts that exclusively featured his own compositions. This also applies to his performance at the Heidelberger Jazztage in 1971, released here for the first time digitally and on album. Almost all of Gulda's jazz works, though often based on classical forms, cannot be played without knowledge of improvisation so as to “keep them away from bunglers” (as the pianist himself put it). One of Gulda’s few compositions without improvisation to be heard here is No. IV from the ten-part piano cycle “Play Piano Play”. “Prelude and Fugue" was probably Gulda’s favourite work and was the last piece of Gulda’s performance in Heidelberg. An exception on this album is Fritz Pauer's "Etude.” In 1966 Fritz Pauer won a prize in the jazz competition Gulda had initiated and so Gulda decided to include this work in the Heidelberg concert from 1971.
NEW STANDARD (VERVE BY REQUEST SERIES)
Hypersuites Reloaded
Bach, Couperin, Purcell et al: Kagami - Mirror / Uemara, Miranda, Zylberajch
The yamato word for mirror, kagami, can be read as “kami (divinity) surrounding ga (self)”: if you look in a mirror, what you see is your own self surrounded by divinity. Kaori Uemura has called her tale Kagami, because she believes that music reflects the inner depths of the self in the same way as a mirror. Mirrors were used in art as a reflection of what is, and as an allegory of truth and wisdom, a means of knowing yourself as you are. This recording is also a tribute to the Baroque composers who saw music not only as a mirror of divine creation, but equally as a means of expressing human emotions through musical figures which could produce specific affects.
David Moliner - Marimba
Schumacher: LUNA
Hugh Aston: Three Marian Antiphons / Blue Heron
Blue Heron has made the Peterhouse repertoire a specialty ever since its first concerts in 1999, in which the ensemble performed Aston's Ave Maria dive matris Anne, the opening track of the new disc. It is safe to say that Blue Heron has sung more of Nick Sandon's tenor lines than any other ensemble in North America, and never in ten years has any one in the group felt that a note he composed felt wrong. His quite amazing accomplishment is to have recreated a musical line that is utterly idiomatic, not merely to the general language of English music in the early sixteenth century, but to the local dialect and accent of one composer and, even more specifically, to that one composer's voice as heard in one piece in all its particularity. We-and Aston and Jones and Mason and all the other Peterhouse composers-owe him grateful thanks for restoring this marvelous music to us in singable form.
The CD booklet includes extensive notes by Nick Sandon on the Peterhouse partbooks, their place in history, and the process of restoring the missing music, as well detailed information concerning historical performance practice by Scott Metcalfe.
Bossi: Opera omnia per organo, Vol. 13
Claudio Arrau Live At Tanglewood 1964
BUZZ: There was a time--specifically, the middle years of the 20th century--when the music in this recital used commonly to be played in a somewhat prettified, Dresden-china fashion. Nothing could be more different than Claudio Arrau's approach to Mozart even in the relatively early stages of his career (and he was sixty-one when these live performances were given). Certainly, some other pianists in those days gave full value to the dramatic power of the minor-key sonatas, K. 310 and K. 457, though very few approached the sheer volcanic force he brought to those bass octaves in the A-minor's finale. But you encounter Arrau's no-holds-barred style even in seemingly less serious works: the finale of K. 283, for example, already sounds, under his hands, more unpredictably Beethovenish than in the interpretations of some of his contemporaries; and in the relatively relaxed finale of K. 570, he punches out the insistent staccato repeated notes of the contrasting central episode with positively demonic relish. This, then, is in an important sense "bigger" Mozart playing than was the norm 50 years ago. At the same time, the clarity of Arrau's texture and the often airy lightness of his pedaling keeps his view of the music from transgressing 18th-century stylistic norms. And while his reputation is based to a degree on his notably classical restraint, you will find in these performances any number of moments when the wit of his timing creates a delightfully mischievous effect. Baldwin piano. Restoration engineer: Gene Gaudette. Premiere CD release! Issued with the kind permission of the Arrau Estate. AAD stereo Total Time:100 min.
Gluck: Iphigenie En Aulide, Iphigenie En Tauride / Minkowski, Gens, Delunsch
GLUCK Iphigénie en Aulide.1 Iphigénie en Tauride2 & • Marc Minkowski, cond; 1Véronique Gens (Iphigénie); 2Mireille Delunsch (Iphigénie); Salomé Haller (Diana); Nicolas Testé (Agamemnon); Anne Sofie von Otter (Clytemnestre); Frédéric Antoun (Achille); Martijn Cornet (Patrocle); Laurent Alvaro (Arcas/Thoas); Jean-François Lapointe (Oreste/Calchas); Yann Beuron (Pylade); Netherlands Op Ch; Les Musiciens du Louvre Grenoble • OPUS ARTE 1099 (2 DVDs: 229:00) Live: Amsterdam 9/7/2011
& The making of “Iphigénie en Aulide”; “Iphigénie en Tauride” (38: 00)
This two-DVD set documents an unusual evening in the theater, with both of Gluck’s Iphigénie operas being given on one night as a double bill. The risk of mounting such a project is great, not least because these operas are very draining on both cast and audience. The fact that Marc Minkowski was able to pull this off was due in no small measure to the intelligent casting, which duplicated only two singers in both operas: Salomé Haller as Diana and Laurent Alvaro, who sings the small role of Arcas in the first opera and Thoas in the second.
For those unfamiliar with these Gluck operas, they represent somewhat different styles despite their similar subject matter and the fact that they were only written five years apart. Gluck’s growth as a creative artist in those five years was phenomenal, almost as stunning as Igor Stravinsky’s growth between the first and last acts of his opera The Nightingale. In Iphigénie en Aulide, although he already has a firm grasp of the new musico-dramatic structures he had created, he was still operating in an essentially lyric vein. There are strophic arias and all of the recitatives are orchestrally accompanied, which gives the music a remarkable sense of unity that was very rare in those days, but by 1779, when he wrote Iphigénie en Tauride, his sureness of handling drama through music had grown to its full maturity. The later opera, even from its opening notes, has a much greater thrust and impetuosity in both the orchestral and vocal writing than was present in the earlier opera. This, then, presents director, cast, and conductor with another challenge, which is how to reconcile the differing styles of these operas in one night’s performance.
Pierre Audi’s direction is singularly arresting and brilliant despite sparse sets and updated, somewhat ridiculous costumes. We see Iphigénie and Achille singing to each other in trench coats; when Iphigénie appears later in the first opera, she is wearing a bomb belt on what looks like a prom dress and a greasepaint X on her forehead to indicate that she has been marked for death. Calchas, the High Priest, looks nerdy in a blue suit with shirt open at the collar and horn-rimmed glasses—and, of course, we get our ubiquitous mostly-naked guy in tight slacks (who turns out to be Arcas). In act II, Agamemnon appears in a carnival cruise ship captain’s outfit, complete with dorky hat and a little winged emblem on it (and sunglasses…don’t forget the sunglasses, even though the stage is nearly as dark as pitch). In short, the costumes are rather ridiculous. The set, such as it is, consists of two high but narrow staircases on either side of the very small stage. Yet to Audi’s credit, he directs around this nonsense to create a dramatic presentation that is both interesting and appropriate to an updating of Greek theater. One can almost envision these singing actors performing their roles in more conventional costumes and sets, and their portrayals are dramatically apropos as well as fascinating to watch.
As for the singers in the first opera, pride of place goes to Nicolas Testé as Agamemnon. He possesses a large, well-focused voice that can even negotiate a trill, and his acting is superb. Nearly as fine are Véronique Gens as Iphigénie and Frédéric Antoun as Achille. Both have smallish voices of the sort that Gluck undoubtedly wrote for, yet they are pointed and carry well and their duets are a joy to the ear. Less impressive is Jean-François Lapointe as Calchas, whose voice has a flutter and an insufficient low range for the role. Anne Sofie von Otter, quite frankly, has little or nothing left of what was once a lovely if small voice. Twenty-plus years of singing, including several roles too large for her, have left the voice wobbly and hollow-sounding. She lacks volume even in so small a theater as this one that De Nederlandse Opera performs in. Her acting as always is spot-on, but I’m not listening to her just for acting. I want some voice, too.
Yet through it all, holding everything together, is the golden thread of Minkowski’s conducting, so that in the end one feels justified in going through this experience for his sure-handed leadership. One of the virtues of hearing a conductor this gifted is his way of knitting everything together so that chorus-recit-aria-vocal ensemble all flows seamlessly and naturally, with appropriate dramatic peaks when called for. Besides, it’s such a rare treat to actually see a production of any Gluck opera nowadays that I can almost overlook von Otter’s vocal faults and the silly costumes. Even in the earlier Iphigénie opera, one can clearly hear Gluck’s musical innovations and—more importantly for us today, with 20/20 hindsight—how much these innovations impacted the music of Cherubini, Spontini, Berlioz, and eventually Wagner. This is especially evident in those orchestrally accompanied recitatives: With their brief, almost blunt melodic thrusts, they stab into the listener’s ears in such a way that they convey the impetuosity of the characters. How ironic, then, that the “bel canto boys,” Rossini-Bellini-Donizetti, turn recitatives back into semi-parlando mush in the early decades of the 19th century. Listen—for just one small example-to the way Agamemnon sings of his daughter, whom he loves, and the tender accents that Gluck imparts to the orchestra behind him, using soft winds; then, immediately after, as he thinks of the sacrifice he is about to make, the tempo doubles and short, stabbing strings cut into his words. This is writing of pure genius. There is no other way to describe it.
The one demerit one can make against Gluck (and, specifically, his librettist) is that they whitewashed the story in order to provide a happy ending. In reality, Agamemnon had no guilt pangs or second thoughts about sacrificing his daughter, and in fact Iphigénie was killed to appease Diana; but by changing the ending of the story, Gluck was not only able to send his audiences home whistling a happy tune but also to manufacture out of thin air the “legend” that Diana took Iphigénie to her home island of Tauride, where the unfortunate girl spent much of her time doing what her father wanted to do to her: killing—oops, sacrificing—strangers who landed there to the goddess. Fabricated the story may be, but Gluck turned it into one of the most riveting operas ever written.
After a rough beginning, in which her voice is unsteady and very nasal, Mireille Delunsch brings it into clear focus and gives a good account of Iphigénie. Mind you, her performance here will not efface memories of Carol Vaness or Susan Graham, but it’s very fine on its own merits. As in the first opera, Minkowski’s conducting is just spectacular—he really “drives the storm” that opens this opera with intense fury—and again he manages to knit together the various scenes into a cohesive whole. Here, too, the staging makes even more sense that it did in the first opera, and except for Thoas (Laurent Alvaro) wearing a modern-day military uniform (what the heck is it with Regietheater directors and military uniforms? If they want to wear one so badly, just put it on yourself and leave the characters in their traditional garb!) most of the costumes here make much more sense. Sadly, Alvaro’s voice is consistently unsteady despite a bright timbre and his high notes covered and nasal. In short, he’s a poor choice for a role that requires long stretches of singing that are powerful and call for dramatic focus. The two priestesses, Simone Riksman and Rosanne van Sandwijk, are splendid, but the smaller male roles are sung rather pitifully.
Happily, our Oreste (Lapointe) and Pylade (Yann Beuron) are quite fine, which is important because from the point of their entrance onward they get the lion’s share of the singing. The staging of Iphigénie’s aria in which she grieves for her dead family is very well sung and staged, but I question the need to have Thoas come sneering into the picture to kiss her at the end.
Suffice it to say that Minkowski uses “original instruments” (or facsimiles thereof) as well as lower pitch (whether the A=409 supposedly used by French court tuner Pascal Taskin in 1783, the A=407.9 used a few years earlier, or Mozart’s A=421 I have no idea…these people really get hung up over this stuff), which makes the music sound at least a half-tone lower than you’re used to it from any A=440 performance, but to me this is all a moot point. It’s the performance that matters, the feeling and intensity of the playing and singing, not which tuning fork was used.
My lone complaint on packaging is that the booklet does not break down the operas by scenes, thus if you’re skipping ahead to catch a specific aria or scene you’ll have to guess. I’m not sure why they didn’t do this; I’ve seen it in almost every other opera DVD I’ve ever reviewed.
Having now given detailed descriptions of the performances, we reach the point where one rightly expects an endorsement or a rejection. I find myself divided on this issue, however. Audi’s direction, the conducting of Minkowski, and the singing of some, but not all, of the principals are certainly first-rate, but then we are faced with those cluttered staircases and inappropriate costumes (not to mention the substandard singing of Alvaro as Thoas). On the other hand, knowing how much the world (and particularly Europe) is in the thrall, I might even say the iron grip, of Eurotrash, could you really expect to someday see better productions with equally good direction, singing and conducting? The only other Iphigénie en Tauride on DVD is the one originally issued by Kultur in 2006 but now on Arthaus Musik 100377, which features the rather strained singing of Juliette Galstian as Iphigénie and yet another idiotic production, with people in giant masks following or mimicking the principals. Overall, I tolerated the Iphigénie en Tauride better because of the finer costumes and Delunsch’s generally well-focused singing, but you may prefer great audio recordings of these two operas. The best, indeed the only great, recording of the first work is the German-language performance from 1962 with Inge Borkh (Klytemnestra), Christa Ludwig (Iphigénie), James King (Achilles), and Walter Berry (Agamemnon), conducted by Karl Böhm, on Orfeo 428962, while the now-classic Muti recording of the second opera with Carol Vaness, Gösta Winbergh, and Thomas Allen (Sony Classical) is still the benchmark.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
MILICA DJORDJEVIC
Florentine Romantic Organ Music / Venturini
- This recording illustrates the development of the Tuscan organ school of the 19th century. The collection ranges from Father Antonio Casini’s brilliant compositions, with their echoes of contemporary opera, to the classical refinement of Luigi Ferdinando Casamorata, whose work occasionally reveals a recourse to counterpoint, and to the heartfelt romanticism of Giovacchino Maglioni, where melodic élan and imposing sound require extraordinary virtuoso skills, including the extensive use of the Pedal.
- To capture the original sound and spirit envisaged by the composers, for this recording organist Matteo Venturini has selected two period instruments. With its brilliant, direct voice, the monumental organ at Corsanico lends itself perfectly to the brilliant compositions of Father Antonio Casini. The organ in the Basilica di Santa Maria di Nazareth in Sestri Levante, with its intriguing solo register sound and magnificent tutti voices, was chosen for the works by Casamorata and Maglioni. The technical specifications of these instruments are included in the booklet.
- Matteo Venturini, one of the foremost organists of Italy, has already successfully recorded for Brilliant Classics, works by Gronau, Weckmann and Müthel.
Boccherini: Complete Violin Sonatas, Vol. 2
Bach: Transcriptions / Stefano Molardi
Transcription has always been a widespread musical practice, following the desire to arrange pieces originally written for an instrumental and/or vocal ensemble for an instrument like the organ or harpsichord or, later, the piano. The eighteenth century was a very fertile period for transcriptions, reaching its pinnacle among Johann Sebastian Bach’s circle. The transcriptions Bach (1685-1750) made during his time in Weimar both for organ (three concertos by Vivaldi and two by Johann Ernst of Saxe-Weimar) and an astonishing 14 for harpsichord (by various Italian composers) are of great artistic value. However, Bach also adapted his own works originally written for instruments or voices, ‘appropriating’ them for the keyboard. These included the first movement of his Trio Sonata No. 4, taken from the sinfonia from the cantata Die Himmel erzählen die Ehre Gottes BWV 76 (for oboe d’amore, viola da gamba and basso continuo) and the Schübler chorales, which started off life as arias in various cantatas.
The aim of this recording is to offer a series of transcriptions that were originally written for instruments other than the organ. The transcribers include Bach himself, contemporaries of him, two 19th century composers: Alexandre Guilmant and Robert Schaab, a pupil of Mendelssohn, ending with the present organist, Stefano Molardi himself.
Stefano Molardi is a “renaissance man”, organist, harpsichordist, scholar, historian and writer. He recorded extensively: the complete organ works by J.S. Bach, organ works by Bach family members, complete organ works by Kuhnau and other repertoire. His playing is clear, crisp, free and rhythmically vibrant. His recordings received 5 star reviews in the international classical magazines. Played on the Johann Nepomuk Holzhey (1797) organ at the Neresheim Abbey, Baden-Württemberg, Germany, the specifications of which are included in the booklet.
Fratres - Corigliano, Part / Maria Bachmann
Here's a double-barrelled surprise: gripping new music for violin and piano and a performing style that revisits a sweet-scented immediacy more typical of previous generations. Maria Bachmann, a pupil of Ivan Galamian and the late Szymon Goldberg, has a bright, winsome tone and a heartwarming interpretative manner. The works that particularly suit her are Corigliano's 1963 Violin Sonata and the two pieces that were written with her in mind, Albert Glinsky's Toccata-Scherzo and Paul Moravec's Sonata. Of the latter two, the Glinsky is the more memorable—a sort of Sarasate for the 1990s, its lyrical centre-piece flanked by brilliant outer sections. The Moravec is busy and pleasant, but even Bachmann's dextrous advocacy can't quite mask its stylistic anonymity. The Corigliano, on the other hand, harbours the kind of juicy 'tunes' that modern players search for in vain but hardly ever find in contemporary music. The Lento is strikingly memorable, whereas elsewhere Corigliano demands all the tricks of the fiddler's trade—harmonics, pizzicatos, sal pondcello and so on, all couched in an appealing musical context that might best be described as Stravinsky-cum-Samuel Barber.
Turning then to Fratres and comparing Bachmann with Gidon Kremer (ECM), I was interested to note how Bachmann arpeggiates pizzicato chords, a gesture totally in keeping with her warmer, less spidery approach. Ksemer's rougher-edged but rather more ethereal reading still gets my vote, but Bachmann provides an engagingly demonstrative alternative. Messiaen himself said of his "Praise to the Immortality of Jesus" that it "specifically addresses the second aspect of Jesus, namely His human aspect, the Word that has become flesh, resurrected immortal to give Him life." And it's as well to bear that in mind when listening to Bachmann's unusually sensuous performance, an affectionate, this-worldly option to the more withdrawn manner of, say, Luben Yordanoff (with Barenboim on DG).
Bachmann receives sympathetic support from Jon Klibonoff and both are nicely recorded. I thoroughly enjoyed this recital, and I sincerely hope that there's another on the way. But if and when it arrives, I do hope that RCA drop their tiresome idea of fold-up annotation: within a day or so, my copy was already beginning to look like an old shopping list. Booklets are far better. Incidentally, why photograph the immensely personable Maria Bachmann entangled in net curtains?
-- Robert Cowan, Gramophone [12/1993]
Tibet: Monastery of Gyuto - The Voice of the Tantra
Questions of Eternity
Fantaisies pour la basse de violle