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Wilson: The Thief of Bagdad / Fitz-Gerald, Frankfurt Radio Symphony
First Hand Records · Mar 2022CD$21.99 -
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Prokofiev: Romeo & Juliet / Klinichev, Ural Opera Ballet Orchestra [Blu-ray]
BelAir Classiques · May 2020Blu-Ray$36.99 -
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Di Vittorio: Sinfonias No 1 "isolation" And No 2 "lost Innocence" / Chamber Orchestra Of New York
Naxos · Jul 2011CD$19.99 -
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Charpentier: Pour un reposoir - Noëls sur les instruments -
VIOLIN CONCERTOS
Franck: De l'autel au salon / Œuvres chorales
“Vox humana” or “Vox celestis”? For César Franck (1822-1890) the one is often a metaphor for the other; whether in sacred or secular vein, spirituality is inherent in all his vocal music, even the most modest of his choral works. Certain of these form the focus of attention in this first recording. They remain unpublished; were they perhaps thought to be of lesser worth for having originated in a religious or private celebration or in response to a publisher’s commission? We should remember that it was often the specific circumstances that provided Franck with the stimulus necessary for the realization of some of his masterpieces. Be that as it may, listening to these choral works offers the listener some delightful discoveries.
The Art of David Hallberg at the Bolshoi
Berio & Rens: Folk Songs
SPECIAL REQUESTS
Honey from the Rock, Vols. 3 & 4
PAINT THE WORLD
Wilson: The Thief of Bagdad / Fitz-Gerald, Frankfurt Radio Symphony
Reflections at Dusk
Bach: Goldberg Variations / Daniel-Ben Pienaar
I was highly impressed by and still very much relish my time spent with Daniel-Ben Pienaar’s Mozart’s complete Piano Sonatas on AV 2209. Fans of this set will find all of this promise further fulfilled in this Goldberg Variations, though as a reviewer it would have been an easier task to welcome slightly less well-trodden repertoire. Pienaar’s Bach is magnificent and, to a point, individual, but does it really stand out in such a crowded field?
Daniel-Ben Pienaar poses as many questions as he provides answers in his deeply considered and well written booklet notes for this release. He doesn’t point to specific influences with regard to his interpretations in this great keyboard work, but develops ideas on its place and time both in the present, as well as the alliances formed between the circumstantial and the timeless – qualities and values inherent in the music itself, and the ways in which these can be approached and adapted by players over time.
This is a probing intellectual interpretation which on occasion displays dazzling feats of speed, but which is more often a more introverted exploration of the piece. It is almost as if Pienaar is playing for his own satisfaction, and leaving it up to us to decide whether we want to listen and take the journey with him. The compact timing reflects brisk tempi at times, but the unhurried feel of the playing and a minimum of ornamentation also allows a highly selective observation of repeats to remain a credible choice. Pienaar doesn’t work much with ‘variation within variations’, so there is no sense we are being cheated out of colourful technical insights and improvisational touches by not hearing certain bars come around for a second time.
Comparisons can be made ad nauseam, but looking at another recent take on the Goldberg Variations by Nick van Bloss on the Nimbus Alliance label shows how personality shades identical music into fascinatingly different manifestations. Bloss is the more extrovert of the two, seeking wit in the music and cheekily expressing it with effects like an occasional extra octave wallop in the bass. This ‘vibe’ turns his performance into more of a public experience – no less well considered than Pienaar’s, but introducing Bach to the bustle and language of the street: the call of market traders and the revving of motors. Bloss’s Bach isn’t rough and ready, but is easily the more resistant to external knocks and blows, and in this way is more of a challenge to Glenn Gould’s 1955 Goldberg Variations, the recording which gave the work and its performer such a remarkable hit status at that time.
This is not to say Daniel-Ben Pienaar’s recording is weak-willed and softly undemonstrative, but there is a gentler side to his playing – perhaps also a side-effect of a rather rounded piano sound – which brings out the warmth in the heart of the music rather than its big venue street-cred. There is bounce and life where Bach demands it, in the first variation for instance, and this sets the pace for the first grouping of variations which concludes with a rousing Variatio 4. Extremes of speed are a feature of some variations, and Variatio 5 is the first such example, acting as little more than a prelude to Variatio 6. Pienaar’s sensitivity to Bach’s dance style is demonstrated in a Giga which barely touches the floor, so light is his touch on the keyboard. The second grouping of variations has its finale in a robust performance of the Variatio 10 Fughetta. Central to the next group is the expressive Variatio 13, in which the little inner rubati which Pienaar uses make the performance seem that much more reflective and yes, introverted. The sound appears almost to want to stay within the case of the piano, rather than broadcast to the last row of an invisible audience. This is not to say the playing is timid, but you could equally imagine this as a clavichord performance. Variatio 14 blows away the mood created in a horizontal shower of sparkling notes, again making it a sort of prelude to the gently eloquent lines of Variatio 15, which concludes another ‘block’ within Pienaar’s structuring of the piece.
The conjoining of variations is a feature of a slow, almost tentative sounding Variatio 20, which serves as a launching point for an arguable too swift and brutal Variatio 21, which goes at a speed too fast for our minds to keep up. The expressive highlights of Variatio 21, 22 and 25 are all done marvellously, though without extremes of slowness or attempts to seek too far beyond Bach’s notes beyond what is already so miraculous on the page. Pienaar does dive for pearls, but not in a disproportionate sense – no need for extra breathing apparatus, though the atmosphere is breathtaking. He writes of the ‘return home’ of the Quodlibet in the way that “the use of folk songs suggests quite literally a return to shared ancestral roots.” In this way the final repeat of the Aria is more of a coda and a release, the feeling of which is palpably expressed by Daniel Ben-Pienaar.
As a bonus to the Goldberg Variations we are given a continuous passacaglia version of the Fourteen Canons BWV 1087, which are based on the first eight bass notes of the Aria from the Goldberg Variations. I’ve been intrigued by these little gems for a while now, but while Pienaar’s more lively moments are good you have to get used to his overly straight opening and an occasional over-prominence of the bass line in places. If you want to discover these fascinating canons have a listen to the Hänssler Bach Edition Musikalisches Opfer CD 92.133 which, along with the canons BWV 1072-78 is the version which convinced me that J.S. Bach was one of the first minimalist composers, even to the point of momentarily confounding our reviewer. Pienaar’s programme concludes with a lovely prayer-like performance of Bist du bei mir from Bach’s Anna Magdalena Notebook, the source of the Aria from the Goldberg Variations, or at least where it sees its first appearance in Bach’s manuscripts.
To conclude, this is a superbly expressive and atmospheric recording of the Goldberg Variations. One may not quite agree with the occasional extremes of tempo, but there is little doubting the jigsaw-puzzle accuracy and attention to detail with which Daniel-Ben Pienaar has formed his shaping of this masterpiece. Subsequent to my review of the Mozart sonatas I was contacted with regard to the piano sound, which one commentator found rather ‘harsh, full of reverb, somewhat lacking in definition’. I’m still quite happy with the sound quality of this, though I partially take the point about the reverb and definition. This Bach was recorded at the same location and the reverb is less by comparison; the instrument that touch closer to the microphones, something which can make all the difference. It’s perhaps not quite ‘demonstration’ piano sound with a little more mid-range bloom than makes for perfection, but is still very good.
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
Bach: Matthaus-Passion / Bernius [Limited Deluxe Edition]
MY CONCEPTION
Great Classical Piano Experiences / Kihlgren
| The pianist Maria Kihlgren studied at Göteborgs Musikhögskola and at the Hochschule für Musik und Darstellende Kunst in Vienna gaining her diploma in 1979. She has performed in Sweden and several European countries, the USA and South America. In recent years she has also devoted herself to recordings. Her albums, with solo music for piano on the Sterling label, have been internationally acclaimed. All of them have a specific theme, with cover pictures by her father, the painter Carl Speglitz. The present release includes works by Scarlatti, Chopin, Liszt, Schumann, Reger, Debussy, de Falla, and more. |
Reznicek: Schlemihl, Raskolnikoff /Jurowski, Yamamasu, Et Al
Take the opening, a very funny Wagner/Strauss parody that represents the "hero". All of the clichés are firmly in place: the simple triadic melodies, bold writing for brass, and repeated wind chords. There's only one problem--the music can't make up its mind what key it's in. However, the composer's message couldn't be clearer, and while there's much that's quite beautiful (the music of "the woman" and the entire last few minutes), the overriding impression remains one of good-natured fun. There's even a brief tenor solo toward the end that basically says "Your life hasn't been a total waste and you've earned a rest" (or words to that effect), plus some solemn writing for organ that hits an aptly religious note, but not too seriously. It's all gloriously played by the WDR Symphony Orchestra under Michail Jurowski and fabulously well recorded, and I can't recommend it highly enough.
Reznicek apparently did for Raskolnikoff (of Crime and Punishment fame) what Beethoven did for Leonore. This is the second of two Raskolnikoff overtures that he wrote, and it dates from the 1920s (Reznicek was born in 1860, the same year as Mahler, and died in 1945). While not as interesting as Schlemihl (no surprise there), and despite the fact that it takes a while to get going, the piece is just as immaculately crafted and certainly as well performed here. The ending, with the birdsong from the slow movement of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony putting in a brief appearance, can't fail to please even if it leaves open the question of what any of it has to do with Dostoyevsky. Never mind; Reznicek is a major composer and one of the great discoveries of this (or any) year. CPO's ongoing series of recordings is turning into a major event. Just remember, you heard it here first. [3/5/2004]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
The Maltese Touch: Guitar Quintets
Chase: Bhajan / Chase, Lorentz
Bhajan is a free-wheeling yet meditative four-section work for electric violin and live electronics, which one critic described as “a pas de deux between violin and electronics,” was written for and features noted new-music violinist Robin Lorentz. Nicholas Chase has headlined festivals in Europe and the US as a composer, performer, and improviser, His interactive, site-specific composition NOVA: Transmission was exhibited as part of the Whitney Biennial in New York and his Ngoma Lungundu opened the New Music+ Festival at the Jana ek Academy, Czech Republic. He was an inaugural Composer Fellow at the 2011 international Other Minds Festival in San Francisco and in 2015 was honored by the International Center for Japanese Culture, Tokyo, Japan.
Prokofiev: Romeo & Juliet / Klinichev, Ural Opera Ballet Orchestra [Blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
Two lovers, united by fate but kept apart by an old family feud, who can only be together in death: Shakespeare’s timeless tale, set to ballet music by Sergey Prokofiev in 1935, needs no introduction. However, this production from the Ural Opera Ballet in Ekaterinburg, which won the prestigious Golden Mask Prize as “Best Ballet” in 2017, adds interesting twists to this well-known frame, as choreographer Vyacheslav Samodurov sets his performance in a dance studio, during a rehearsal of the Romeo and Juliet ballet. This way, the characters of the play are placed out of a specific country or era: the action could take place anytime and anywhere. It could even be happening in front of your window right now: it is not by chance that the dancers reminded the audience of today’s ‘boys and girls from the Uralmash district’, as some viewers have noted in social media. The motive of struggle between the two clans disappears from the performance – it does not matter which families the street fighters belong to. The concept of repetition and inexorability of the theatrical ritual plays a central part: a tragedy is about to happen and the lovers will die today, but afterwards everyone will go home, a new rehearsal will start tomorrow, and the story will be repeated again from the start. With outstanding performances from principals Ekaterina Sapogova and Alexandr Merkushev, choreographer Vyacheslav Samodurov creates an intricate and surprisingly modern choreographical language that draws from classical movements but also from pantomime to best express the feelings and the drama at play in this eternal masterpiece.
Le Voyage imaginaire de Mozart au Japon
Bach: Organ Works / Guillou
This is a reissue of six separate discs Jean Guillou recorded for Dorian in 1987 (1 and 6) and 1990 (2–5), issued separately in 1990 and 1993. I couldn’t find reviews of them in the Fanfare Archive, which doesn’t go back that far. Elsewhere on the Internet, however, one finds both lavish praise and caveats, the latter because these are not strict readings of Bach’s music but contain moments in which Guillou, himself a composer, dares to improvise certain notes or passages, which brings the listener to decide whether or not such an approach is valid.
One online review said that Guillou plays these works much like Glenn Gould played Bach on piano, but where Gould’s reinterpretations extended only to tempo and phrasing, Guillou also adds or changes the music. As you can expect, reactions to this vary widely, from one Amazon reviewer who said (as I would) that “he improvises in such a way that casual listeners never suspect … that what they are hearing is not part of the piece they think they are hearing,” to Joel Warren Lidz, Ph.D., who flatly states that “his Dorian recordings are a joke in my opinion.” Both reactions are possible depending on your perspective. On the one hand, improvisation was accepted Baroque practice in solo instrumental music. Yehuda Hanani recorded Bach’s cello suites in a similar manner. But on the other hand, Bach’s music is considered sacrosanct; what one is permitted to do in Couperin, Scarlatti, or Vivaldi is simply not done in Bach. His works are considered complete and immutable.
In the final analysis, however, the most important question is, does it work, or is it really obtrusive? That must be left to the decision of each auditor. I say that it works. Should, or could, this approach be applied to other works by Bach? I think so, particularly in A Musical Offering and Well-Tempered Clavier, Book 2. But, again, this is purely subjective and speculative.
As for Guillou’s playing there can be no argument. He is not only a virtuoso of the first rank, but shows a remarkable grasp of line and structure, rhythm and color. His feet and fingers fly so swiftly over the instrument that one is left in awe that he is also able to change registration, sometimes in the very middle of a passage. His playing is indeed relative to Gould’s in the sense that quick tempos and rhythmic acuity (almost a little clipped at times, like Gould) are hallmarks of his style. But also like Gould at various stages of his career, Guillou does not slough off or rush legato passages, but lingers a bit over them (as in the Trio Sonata BWV 525) with loving affection. He is, above all, French, and therefore brings a very Gallic sensibility to this music. Indeed, going through this set, one may be struck, as I was, by the sheer variety of moods he is able to evoke. Guillot clearly views Bach’s organ music as both evocative and structural, and so does not ignore either aspect of the music.
Of course, this set only includes about half of Bach’s organ music, not counting the concertos or spurious works given BWV numbers. Guillot made a second, complete, set issued by Philips on 12 CDs in 1999. You can find reference to it, and a photo of the box, at bach-cantatas.com/NVP/Guillou.htm#Organ2, but neither a catalog number nor an outlet where you can buy it outside of Amazon. The fact that it appears to be available only in Bach’s home country tells me that the Germans love his playing a lot more than American or British musicological pedants do.
Considering that the set is incomplete, I wondered why one whole disc was devoted to the Goldberg Variations rather than more of the bona-fide organ music. Listening explained why. Not only does Guillou view this music as an opportunity to (literally) pull out all the stops, but the score also gives him license to improvise beyond one’s expectations or belief. He turns the very first variation, for instance, into a two-part contrapuntal dialogue, taken at a rapid clip, but nothing in the entire boxed set prepared me for his playing of Variation 14. This will absolutely blow you away—I haven’t heard its like in 40 years of listening to organ playing, Bach, the Goldberg Variations , or any combination thereof. When it started, I thought for sure this was speeded up from the original tape for release. It seemed to me impossible that any human being, particularly one in his 70s at the time of recording, could play this fast. But there it is.
Two organs are used, discs 2–5 being recorded at the Tonhalle, Zurich, while discs 1 and 6 (the Goldberg Variations ) were recorded on the special Klueker organ that Guillou himself designed at the Church of Our Lady of the Snows in Alpe d’Huez, France. Both are modern in sound, with a wide variety of stops and registrations that add considerable color. The sound quality is spectacular, combining both a close perspective for brilliant passages and atmospheric roominess for quieter and more muted ones. If you insist on authentic-organ performances, there are not one but two series by Helmut Walcha, in a 10-CD set (mono) on Deutsche Grammophon 000185602 and a 12-disc set (stereo) on Archiv 463712; or the much better-recorded (and less dryly performed) 11-CD set by George Ritchie on Raven 875, possibly your best buy at around $60. Yet my personal recommendation for a “straight” set played by a master on older organs goes to the great Marie-Claire Alain (her third and last set, 14 CDs on Erato 96358, by all accounts her finest).
Your decision to acquire this Guillou set will, of course, depend on the issues described above, but I really think you owe it to yourself to hear it. Besides, it is a bargain, selling for a little more than the price of two of the single discs, if you can find them (not all are still in print). I recommend it, even as the only set you may want of Bach’s organ works, unless you are a purist or a completist.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
This six-CD set presents J. S. Bach’s great works for organ performed by Jean Guillou, a leading exponent of his instrument. The discs were recorded in 1987 and 1990 on the Kleuer organ of the Eglise Notre-Dame des Neiges at l’Alpe d’Huez and on the Kleuker-Steinmeyer organ of the Tonhalle in Zurich. These are both exceptionally fine instruments, with focused, clear tone throughout the range and well-differentiated voicing. Guillou’s performances are extremely intelligent, with well-thought-out registration and an excellent resultant layering of sound. Individual voices are brought appropriately to the foreground and the climaxes are solid, though never clogged with redundant sound. The use of registration is particularly refreshing in the context of the better-known works - Guillou’s sense of dialogue in the closing paragraph of the Toccata of the Toccata and Fugue in D minor, BWV 565 is palpable, lending a new perspective to a work that is so often characterised by an indulgent wash of sound. The delineation of voices can be heard to good advantage, too, in the Chorale Preludes - the chorale melody occupies the foreground to a sufficient extent to be evident, but still at a level of translucency that allows Bach’s often startlingly innovative harmonic interpretation to shine through. Listen to In dulci jubilo, BWV 608 and An Wasserflüssen Babylon, BWV 653, for particularly interesting examples of this. Striking harmonic piquancy is imparted through judicious use of the Sesquialtera on the Positif, which some listeners may find disturbing at first; but once the ear has accustomed itself to this slightly unusual colour, it will be perceived as an enhancement to the harmonic color and as an excitingly innovative dimension to the sound-landscape.
Guillou’s employment of rhythm as an expressive medium is also impressive, and results in a momentum that is essentially horizontal: he allows the music’s harmonic characteristic to inform the vertical element and thus brings the melodic element to the fore. Such an interpretation becomes at once a celebration of Bach’s contrapuntal art and a realisation of its basis in fifteenth- and sixteenth-century vocal polyphony.
The booklet notes are clear and well-written, with the works appropriately grouped according to type; although those unfamiliar with musicological research connected with this music might appreciate a brief explanation of the credentials of the ubiquitously mentioned Peter Williams. There is enough technical detail to provide ‘signposts’ to guide a listener through the works; and informative historical data, too; as well as some enjoyable anecdotes (such as Hubert Parry’s word-setting of the subject of the G minor Fugue). Fascinating notes on the organs and full specifications of both are given, pleasingly enough. An authoritative and fascinating set of discs.
-- Em Marshall, MusicWeb International
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.
A Consort's Monument / Joubert-Caillet, L'Acheron
Di Vittorio: Sinfonias No 1 "isolation" And No 2 "lost Innocence" / Chamber Orchestra Of New York
DI VITTORIO Overtura Respighiana 1. Symphony No. 2, “Lost Innocence 1.” Ave Maria 2. Symphony No. 1, “Isolation 1.” Clarinet Sonata No. 1 3 • 1,2 Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; 2 Respighi Choir; 3 Benjamin Baron (cl); 1 New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572333 (56:52)
RESPIGHI Aria for Strings. Violin Concerto in A. Suite for Strings. Rossiniana: Suite • Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; Laura Marzadori (vn); New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572332 (77:32)
If Palermo-born Salvatore Di Vittorio (b.1967) is new to you (as he is to me), based on these two Naxos releases you might be justified in thinking he’s a third-generation relation to Italian composer Ottorino Respighi. That’s because as a conductor, Di Vittorio leads an ensemble he founded and named “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York in a program of works by Respighi. As an arranger, he revised and/or completed three of the works heard on the second of these two discs. And as a composer, Di Vittorio has been hailed as a “lyrical romantic … following in the footsteps of Respighi.” Though a reading of Di Vittorio’s biography on his website (salvatoredivittorio.com/bio.html) discloses no direct link to the former composer, it appears that Respighi is near and dear to Di Vittorio’s heart.
In a sense, you might say that in at least one of his compositions, Overtura Respighiana , Di Vittorio has channeled Respighi to write music that the real Respighi might have written himself, for the piece is a devilishly delightful concoction that plays on Respighi’s Rossiniana and Pines of Rome , fusing them with references to Di Vittorio’s own music, to create a kind of freshly minted Boutique fantasque.
The Symphony No. 2, titled “Lost Innocence,” on the other hand, does not, as far as I can tell, quote anything by Respighi, but the brilliant swatches of instrumental color Di Vittorio weaves into and through this striking musical tapestry is reminiscent of Respighi’s way with the orchestral palette. Di Vittorio tells us that the work was inspired by the tragedy of the Yugoslav civil wars in the late 1990s. Its four movements—“Requiem for a Child,” “Dance of Tears,” “Childheart,” and “Elegy: Marcia Funebre”—at least up until the finale, reflect a calm that is neither quiet nor peaceful, but one that builds toward a shattering, tragic ending.
The Ave Maria for a cappella women’s chorus is one of Di Vittorio’s conservatory works, written in 1995 (revised in 1998) after graduating from the Manhattan School of Music. At first it struck my ear as fairly dissonant, sounding almost like it could have been written by Penderecki, Lutos?awski, or Vasks, but as the piece unfolded, emerging from the harmonic counterpoint were passages that, with just a few minor adjustments to the voice-leading, sounded as if they might have come from a cappella moments in Verdi’s Requiem. Di Vittorio confirms that impression in his booklet note, stating that a number of influences run through the piece, from Palestrina and Monteverdi to Verdi, and that “in particular, certain resemblances may be traced to Verdi’s choral Ave Maria .” The effects of Di Vittorio’s piece are quite arresting, simultaneously stark and austere yet illuminated from within by a shimmering light that leads to a most meltingly beautiful cadential Amen.
The Symphony No. 1, titled “Isolation,” dates to one year before the Ave Maria but was revised in 1999. No borrowings from Respighi appear in this score either, yet his spirit hovers over it in the luminous divided string writing and exquisite chiaroscuro effects. This is a strings-only work, and according to Di Vittorio one of its influences was Vivaldi’s seldom-performed Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro , RV 169, one of Vivaldi’s most harmonically tortured works, written in a highly chromatic idiom intended to represent Christ’s pain and suffering. For Di Vittorio, the “Isolation” Symphony is meant to depict man’s alienation from himself and his fellow man. If you were to listen to the piece without knowing that, I’m not sure you would necessarily pick up specifically on that theme. The music is sad, to be sure, even brooding, but more than once it put me in mind of Barber’s Adagio for Strings , a piece that is somehow uplifting in its tragedy.
The Di Vittorio-as-composer CD closes with another work revised in 1998, the Clarinet Sonata No. 1. Not reflected in its title is the fact that it’s a piece for unaccompanied clarinet, which is a bit of a challenge for both composer and performer, considering that a solo wind instrument, unlike a violin or cello, can’t make its own harmony by playing double-stops or chords. But I suppose if Bach and Debussy could write for unaccompanied flute, there’s no reason the solo capabilities of other wind instruments shouldn’t be explored. Di Vittorio notes that he drew inspiration and advice for the work from his father, Giuseppe, who was a clarinetist. Di Vittorio claims to have been influenced by Verdi, Brahms, Berlioz, and elements of French Baroque dance, though these elements are not easily discerned due to the nature of the music’s syntax and style, which consists largely of loosely connected contrasting phrases that never quite seem to coalesce into an identifiable whole. Nonetheless, Benjamin Baron’s very accomplished clarinet playing invites further listening and offers a promise that there is more to this piece than meets the ear on first hearing.
Critics can be a cruel lot—I know because I’m one of them—and there are those who will say, and already have, that music like this being written today is irrelevant. That’s a strong sentiment, for sure, but nowhere near as judgmental as someone like Pierre Boulez would be. He is quoted as having said that composers who write music like this simply don’t exist, prompting an acquaintance of mine to describe Boulez as “the Dr. Mengele of France.” With one wave of his hand, off you go to the gas chamber. My attitude, as expressed on a number of past occasions, is that beautiful music is beautiful music, regardless of when it’s written, and Di Vittorio proves himself with this CD to be a composer of beautiful music extraordinaire. I strongly recommend this release to you for many hours of listening pleasure.
The second of the two entries consists entirely of music by Respighi, though Di Vittorio has had a hand in the realization of three of the four of the works as heard on the disc. I’m not sure just how seriously Respighi was ever taken by critics and the academic elite, but thanks to a small number of works—primarily his Roman trilogy, the Ancient Airs and Dances suites, and La Boutique fantasque —he came to enjoy considerable exposure and popularity, especially in the U.S. Toscanini premiered the third number of the Roman trilogy, Feste Romane , with the New York Philharmonic in 1929, and then went on to record the piece for RCA twice, once in 1942 with the Philadelphia Orchestra and a second time with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1949, adding the Fountains of Rome in 1951 and the Pines of Rome in 1953. Toscanini wasn’t the only one to climb aboard the Respighi bandwagon. Mengelberg premiered the composer’s Toccata for Piano and Orchestra with the New York Philharmonic in 1928, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra commissioned Respighi’s Metamorphoseon for its 50th anniversary in 1931.
Yet of Respighi’s nearly 200 scores—among which are nine operas, five ballets, several concertos, quite a few chamber works, and a considerable volume of vocal and choral numbers—a good deal of it is unrecorded and rarely, if ever, performed. The reasons seem to be twofold. First, the critics and opinion-makers, while acknowledging the composer’s gift for colorful orchestration and pictorial illusionism, regarded the music as “derivative,” “cinematic,” and even “vulgar,” by which I prefer to think they meant lacking in substance and depth rather than tawdry and tasteless. The truth of the matter is that there is nothing any more cinematic or “vulgar,” if you choose to use that word, about Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome , written in 1916, than there is about Bloch’s Schelomo written a year earlier. But the second, and perhaps more serious, criticism Respighi faced—though it was largely unjustified—was that he was a supporter of Mussolini’s fascist regime. Evidence seems to suggest that Respighi didn’t have a political bone in his body, but it may have been his very passivity and silence that were damning.
The 24-year-old Respighi began work on a violin concerto in 1903. Only the first two movements were completed; the third remained in a piano reduction with just a few measures orchestrated. After analyzing the score, Di Vittorio made enhancements to the orchestration of the first two movements and completed the third using material from the other movements. Di Vittorio’s completion was premiered in New York in 2010. I note a 1994 recording of the concerto on a Bongiovani CD, but it is only of Respighi’s original first two movements. The current performances of both the concerto and the Aria for Strings, transcribed by Di Vittorio, are world premiere recordings. The concerto, which owes much to Vivaldi and early Mendelssohn, inhabits a world of lyrical sunshine that plays on the senses like a fresh breeze bearing scents of an Italian vineyard in spring. Thanks to the efforts of Di Vittorio, and the capable hands and sensitive voice of violinist Laura Marzadori, this romantically expressive score is brought to us complete for the first time.
The even earlier 1901 Aria, Respighi’s salute to his Italian heritage by way of Frescobaldi, Corelli, and, again, Vivaldi, found its way into the composer’s Suite in G Major for Strings and Organ. Di Vittorio makes of it a lovely air for string orchestra. Both the Aria and the Suite were revised or edited to prepare the very first printed editions (score and parts) of each score. Up until now, only manuscript copies of the score and parts existed for both works. Beyond this, Di Vittorio then made slight adjustments to the Aria to make it suitable for not only string orchestra but string quintet, in order to promote Respighi’s music in academic settings, such as conservatories and music colleges.
The booklet does not explain to what extent Di Vittorio “revised” Respighi’s Suite for Strings, cataloged as P 41. The piece is a six-movement suite in Baroque style that anticipates Respighi’s later and very popular Ancient Airs and Dances.
Six years after Respighi visited Rossini’s collection of piano pieces titled Les Riens (“Trifles,” aka “Sins of my Old Age”) for his ballet La Boutique fantasque in 1919, he returned to mine the mother lode again in 1925 for his Rossiniana Suite. It is given here in unaltered form and in a delightful performance by Di Vittorio’s “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York. As one of Respighi’s more popular works, there is of course serious competition in the suite, not least among which is a classic 1967 recording with Ansermet (one of his last) and the Suisse Romande Orchestra.
The current Naxos release, in addition to excellent performances and recording, offers to the Respighi fan a combination of never-before-heard music and works in never-before-heard transcriptions by Salvatore Di Vittorio. Strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Whitacre: The Sacred Veil / Los Angeles Master Chorale
The Sacred Veil - a project led by Eric Whitacre and Charles Anthony Silvestri - was created following the passing of Charles’ wife, Julia in 2005. It represents a journey towards the answer for many questions, including whether departed loved ones are truly gone, and how can we mourn those we have lost whilst still moving forward? In Charles’ own words, the project became “a significant part of my journey toward healing and wholeness after great loss.”
Poet, author, composer, and speaker Charles Anthony Silvestri has worked with other artists from all over the world to create texts tailor-made for their commissions and specific artistic needs. He enjoys the challenge of solving these creative problems and has provided custom choral texts, opera libretti, program notes and other writing for composers including Eric Whitacre, Ola Gjeilo, Kim Arnesen, and Dan Forrest, and for ensembles ranging from high schools to the Houston Grand Opera, from the King’s Singers to the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus, from Westminster Choir College to Westminster Abbey.
Grammy® Award-winning composer and conductor Eric Whitacre is one of the world’s most performed living composers. His works have been programmed worldwide by millions of amateur and professional performers, while his ground-breaking Virtual Choirs have united singers from over 120 different countries. Eric, a graduate of the prestigious Juilliard School of Music, is presently Artist in Residence with the Los Angeles Master Chorale, following five years as Composer in Residence at the University of Cambridge, UK.As conductor of the Eric Whitacre Singers, he has released such chart-topping albums including Light and Gold and Water Night. In high demand as guest conductor, he has drawn capacity audiences to concerts with the Netherlands Radio Choir, London Symphony Orchestra, Flemish Radio Choir, and Minnesota Orchestra.
REVIEWS
The Sacred Veil is notable simply as one of the most deeply personal pieces of concert music heard in quite some time. Yet there is more to its profound effect than this. Whitacre responds to the texts with a sober language akin to but quite distinct from his usual style, something like the dark language cultivated by Renaissance composers for the requiem mass and other serious texts. The performances by the Los Angeles Master Chorale, under Whitacre's direction, are superb, and the sound, from California's Musco Center for the Arts, is exemplary.
– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)
Composer Eric Whitacre and poet Charles Anthony Silvestri, longtime collaborators and close friends, come together for their most personal and expansive work to date. Whitacre has created a powerful score for Silvestri’s heartfelt poetry in the 12-movement work The Sacred Veil. Silvestri’s wife, Julie, died of ovarian cancer at age 36 in 2005, leaving two young children. His texts, written collaboratively with Whitacre, and the intimate, compelling score tell a story of courtship, love, loss, and the search for solace. Whitacre leads the Los Angeles Master Chorale in the world-premiere recording.
– WFMT-FM (Lisa Flynn)