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SaleSchubert, Maja Solveig Kjelstrup Ratkje, Benjamin Britten, J
2L · Mar 2015Blu-Ray with SACD$44.99$33.99 -
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Alla turca: Orchestral Works by Romberg, Mozart & Haydn / Griffiths, Collegium Musicum Basel
CPO · Jul 2018CD$18.99 -
The Art Of Egon Petri - Concert Performances & Broadcasts, 1954-1962
Music and Arts Programs of America · Aug 2013CD$36.99 -
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Albinoni, Legrenzi, Muffat & Telemann: A Cinque - String Sonatas PURGATORY
Urania Records · Mar 2024CD$22.99 -
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Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4; Mussorgsky: A Night On The Bare Mountain; Prokofiev: The Love For Three Oranges Suite
ICA Classics · Sep 2011CD$14.99 -
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Penderecki: Concertos, Vol. 8 / Tworek, Jerzy Semkov Polish Sinfonia Iuventus Orchestra
DUX · May 2020CD$21.99 -
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Schubert, Maja Solveig Kjelstrup Ratkje, Benjamin Britten, J
2L
Blu-Ray with SACD
$33.99
$44.99
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Mar 31, 2015
Perhaps the greatest single characteristic of Franz Schubert's Rosamunde Quartet (1823) is the elusive, longing and perhaps even tragically unconsummated atmosphere that pervades the entire work. Only in the Andante are we really allowed to relax in it's peaceful serenity. The ambiguity in the title of Maja Ratkje's Tale of Lead and Light (2011) reflects the dread which pervaded Oslo in the summer of 2011, and the life-affirming light of Beethoven's opus 59/1 which inspired Maja's work. It is a tribute to Benjamin Britten's inherent "joie de vivre" that optimism and love triumph in his Second String Quartet (1945), composed just after the 2nd World War. The quartet reaches it's emotional climax in the magnificent Chacony, a passacaglia with no less than 21 variations, inspired by Henry Purcell. Britten's 2nd string quartet received it's premiere on the 21st November 1945, 250 years to the day after Henry Purcell's death. Recording Joseph Haydn's Op. 76 No. 5 on our debut CD in 2008 inspired us to include the complete opus, arguably Haydn's greatest string quartet collection, in our repertoire as soon as possible. The heart of the Emperor Quartet, Opus 76/3 is also the most well known movement, Poco adagio. Haydn composed the psalm that he subsequently used as the theme of this movement after a prolonged stay in England. Something of a celebrity, Haydn mingled with the royals, and his admiration for the British national anthem inspired him to compose a tribute to Emperor Francis II. It was later used first as the Austrian and then as the German national anthem. Haydn used a musical cryptogram of the first line of the Anthem, "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser" to create the opening theme of the first movement, using the first letters of each word in the German text. G e f d k/c, are the exact musical notes of the main theme in the Allegro. The simplest ideas are often the best!. Hybrid SACD Pure Audio Blu-ray two-disc-box at the price of one ordinary Blu-ray 5.1 SURROUND STEREO produced in DXD (Digital eXtreme Definition 352kHz/24bit) by Lindberg Lyd, Norway The compact disc looks like a normal CD and plays on all standard players and computers.
Alla turca: Orchestral Works by Romberg, Mozart & Haydn / Griffiths, Collegium Musicum Basel
CPO
CD
$18.99
Jul 06, 2018
Andreas Romberg explored new musical territory when he got the idea to include Turkish color in his fourth symphony. It was not until the romantic era that Oriental or Arabian color very deliberately was incorporated into symphonic music, whether in Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade (1888) or in Engelbert Humperdinck’s Maurische Rhapsodie (1898). Right in the first movement of his symphony Romberg used the title “A la turca” to get his audience to anticipate Turkish color. The gradually intensified initial part goes over into a passage with the expected percussion accents and swiftly whirling violin figures. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Violin Concerto in A major, the last of his five violin concertos, is also regarded as a concert piece with Turkish color. In the rondo finale there is a famous interlude in A minor in which the violoncellists and double bassists beat the rhythm on the strings with their bow sticks. This too produces the popular “Alla turca” flair. Our soloist is the young Swiss musician Julia Schroder, and it is not least in the swift main part of the Haydn overture that things sound “Turkish”; here not only the timpani but also the bass drum and cymbals accentuate the rhythm. This album also marks the inauguration of our complete recording of the symphonic music of Andreas Romberg.
The Art Of Egon Petri - Concert Performances & Broadcasts, 1954-1962
Music and Arts Programs of America
CD
$36.99
Aug 07, 2013
Petri was in his youth something of a multi-instrumentalist. We remember him as Busoni’s greatest pupil and a Lisztian of coruscating brilliance but he was also a violinist – not surprising as his father, Henri, was an internationally renowned performer and teacher – but also, less predictably, as a French horn player good enough to take a place in the Dresden Symphony. Petri was a musician of the utmost clarity, distinction and directness with a technique remarkable even into old age and whose conception of space and tonal value gave him a persuasive insight into music of intellect and weight. As a Beethovenian he was distinguished - as a Chopin player he maybe reflected something of his teacher Busoni’s own professed ambiguity and duality of response. Petri’s pre-War Columbias have been collated on APR and demonstrate his strengths in abundance. Music and Arts has here brought together his concerts and broadcasts from the period covering 1954 to 1962, the year of his death. His reluctance to travel, his physical lack of flamboyance, indeed his active distaste of extravagance and extraneous gesture and detail, meant that audiences didn’t much clamour to hear him. Their loss is evident from this uneven but nevertheless exceptionally significant series of survivals.
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
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
Albinoni, Legrenzi, Muffat & Telemann: A Cinque - String Sonatas PURGATORY
Urania Records
CD
$22.99
Mar 22, 2024
The five-part writing for strings has its period of greatest development in the 16th and 17th centuries, only to fall into a progressive obsolescence. The most commonly used instrumental ensemble included two violins, alto and tenor viola da braccio, cello and basso continuo. Of this quintet, the instrument that undergoes a progressive dismissal is the viola tenore, which in this recording we propose in its original late seventeenth century mounting.
ELEGANT GYPSY / CASINO
BGO - BEAT GOES ON
CD
$16.49
May 11, 2010
Digitally remastered two-fer containing a pair of albums from the Jazz guitarist on one CD: Elegant Gypsy (1977) and Casino (1978). Former Return to Forever guitarist Di Meola embarked on a solo career with these two albums. Elegant Gypsy features Jan Hammer, Steve Gadd and Paco de Lucia. Both albums made the US Top 100 and helped launch Di Meola's international career. BGO. 2010.
Tapray: Harpsichord Works
Brilliant Classics
CD
$12.99
Jul 17, 2026
With this new recording, Fernando de Luca fills a significant gap in the catalogue of French Baroque music. While sonatas of Tapray have been recorded on a modern piano, there is no recording of them on the harpsichord; all the more significant because Tapray stands as a pivotal figure in the history of French keyboard music, positioned at the crossroads between the harpsichord and the fortepiano. Born in 1738, Jean-François Tapray worked in Paris, Besançon, and elsewhere as an organist, until ill health forced his retirement in 1786. However, he continued to compose, at least until the turn of the century, and died in 1822. From 1773 onwards, he had embraced the new technology of the fortepiano and published a Keyboard Method (Op. 25) for the instrument. All the same, he continued to write specifically for the harpsichord too, such as a Symphony Op. 12 for harpsichord and orchestra, from 1780. Thus his works, such as the sonatas presented here, reflect both the culmination and the last flowering of the harpsichord tradition in France. The Variations on Les Sauvages is often cited as one of the last great virtuoso works for the harpsichord in France. Tapray's piece is both a transcription and a reworking of a famous air by Rameau, taken from his opéra-ballet Les Indes galantes (1735). The four variations embrace a diverse array of styles, from the cascades of the modern galant style to the unstable rhythms of the French Baroque, and finally a synthesis of both German and Italian style in the last variation. In this sense, the Variations do not so much look back on the Baroque era as absorb it's style within a rapidly evolving culture. The sonatas, likewise, capture a galant aesthetic with their alternation between spirited Allegro movements, graceful airs, and highly stylized dances. For this recording, Fernando de Luca has chosen a harpsichord modelled after a Blanchet instrument of 1754, facilitating a precise articulation, expressive touch, and dynamic responsiveness well-suited to Tapray's music.
Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Debussy / Solti, Chicago
ICA Classics
DVD
$26.99
May 28, 2013
MOZART Symphony No. 39. TCHAIKOVSKY Symphony No. 4. DEBUSSY Trois Nocturnes: Fêtes • Georg Solti, cond; Chicago SO • ICA 5100 (DVD: 131:00) Live: London 2/2/1985
This concert was the last one presented by the Chicago Symphony under Georg Solti during its fifth European tour. If the orchestra’s first appearance in Britain (in Edinburgh in 1971) was something of a vindication for Solti following the stormy tenure he endured at Covent Garden, this one was now part of a well-practiced drill for both conductor and orchestra as conquering victors making a triumphal appearance to receive duly awaited laurels. By this time, only the orchestras of Berlin, Vienna, and the Concertgebouw could seriously presume to contest the claim of the CSO to be the world’s greatest orchestra. If the latter two could at least boast of having a more beautiful sheen of sound, none of them could match the CSO under Solti for sheer precision and brilliance of execution.
Given that, it is a bit of a surprise to encounter in Mozart’s 39th Symphony that opens this program some metrical imprecision in the downward cascading runs of the introduction to the first movement, which lack a clear sense of where the downbeat is. After that minor slip, the performance rights itself under Solti and moves forward with great efficiency. While Solti uses a reduced orchestra with a 12-10-8-6-4 string section deployment, the sound is still quite full compared to those from present-day period instrument ensembles. The interpretation is stylish and well proportioned, though a bit straightforward and lacking the extra lyricism and warmth that a Bruno Walter or Karl Böhm would have brought to it. In short, it is a good performance but not a great one.
The Tchaikovsky Fourth is another matter. In a previous review in 34:4 of a DVD featuring Kurt Sanderling, I complained of both the paucity and quality of available Tchaikovsky Fourths in the DVD medium. This performance corrects the problem in spades. Solti was a superb Tchaikovsky interpreter, one who brought a great tensile strength to the composer’s scores that minimized their structural lacunae and did not overindulge their heart-on-sleeve emotionalism. Here the first movement, with its “Sword of Damocles” motif of Fate, which in lesser hands can seem overly prolix or mawkish, is channeled with a propulsive fury that at the same time does not slight the contrasting interludes of almost balletic grace, the latter being rendered with a delicacy that belies critics who accuse Solti of insensitively running roughshod over every score. Even more surprisingly, the succeeding Andantino is taken at a quite leisurely tempo, with noticeably more rubato and ritards than Solti was wont to employ. The Scherzo likewise is taken at a pace a bit slower than I would have expected, with just a touch of rhythmic stiffness that is my only and minor criticism of this performance. The Allegro con fuoco Finale is indeed fiery, if not taken at quite the hell-for-leather pace of Yevgeny Svetlanov, my benchmark for this work, and the main section dovetails nicely into the coda with the return of the “Damocles” motif. The audience quite properly goes wild immediately after the closing chord, vociferously yelling its approval over tumultuous applause.
“Brilliant” and “sizzling” are not normally the first adjectives that come to mind for performances of Debussy’s music, but they certainly apply to this encore performance of “Fêtes” from the Trois Nocturnes. I for one would never have pegged Solti as a Debussy conductor of the first rank, but he is absolutely terrific here. This rendition positively crackles with drive and bounce; every note, every instrumental part is detailed with stunning clarity and gleaming color, with an unexpectedly witty close to boot. Once again, the audience roars its approval. What a shame not to have the complete Trois Nocturnes from Solti here!
The DVD opens with a three-minute spiel from ICA Classics touting its series of releases from British archives and the Boston Symphony archives. The camerawork is sensible, and the visual resolution is fine; the one drawback is that the recorded sound is very dry, which robs the Tchaikovsky Fourth in particular of some desirable tonal luster. Highly recommended, then, for the Tchaikovsky and Debussy items.
FANFARE: James A. Altena
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4; Mussorgsky: A Night On The Bare Mountain; Prokofiev: The Love For Three Oranges Suite
ICA Classics
CD
$14.99
Sep 27, 2011
The redoubtable Rozhdestvensky, chief conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra from 1978 to 1981, is at his very best in Russian repertoire. Indeed, his Shostakovich has a raw energy that never fails to excite, so I had high hopes for this recording of Tchaikovsky’s febrile Fourth. The other items on this disc – all recorded live by the BBC – make for a sensible and interesting programme, the rarely heard Sorochinsky Fair version of Night on a Bald Mountain especially welcome. Also worthy of note is the growing catalogue of archive material from the recently launched ICA label, some of it previously unreleased and much of it – the Tennstedt Mahler 3, for instance – very desirable indeed.
The upfront blare of horns and bassoons at the start of the Tchaikovsky gives a clear indication of the character of Rozhdestvensky’s approach to this score; it’s vital and vigorous, yet the rhythms of ‘In movimento di Valse’ have grace and charm. The big climaxes pack a terrific punch – what thrilling timps – the transported brass scything through the mix like one of those brazen, Soviet-era performances. That’s not to say it’s over-driven – well, not yet, anyway – merely that it’s not the carefully sculpted sound-world of, say, Claudio Abbado (DG) or Lorin Maazel (Telarc). This uncompromising earthiness is reinforced by a forthright, yet detailed, recording.
The oboe playing at the start of the Andantino is lovely, Rozhdestvensky alive to the emotional undertow of this music. The strings and woodwind are wonderfully alert and ardent, testament perhaps to Noddy’s rigorous rehearsals, and there’s real nobility in those big, swelling tunes. Anyone who knows Rozhdestvensky’s Royal Festival Hall Sleeping Beauty (BBC Legends BBCL 4091-2) will recognise that seemingly intuitive feel for phrasing; it all sounds so spontaneous. As for the animated pizzicati of the Scherzo, they have a fleeting, will-o’-the-wisp quality that’s most engaging.
All that evaporates in the sudden heat of the Allegro con fuoco. In his autobiography producer John Culshaw tells the story of how Georg Szell was tricked into taping an ill-tempered – yet fiery – rendition of this finale, but even he can’t match the incandescence of Rozhdestvensky’s reading. The BBC brass and percussion are truly heroic, the orchestra hard-driven yet coherent to the very end. I listened to this track several times, scarcely able to believe this music could be taken at such a lick and not descend into chaos. The instant roar from the otherwise very quiet audience says it all. A thumping performance, and a pretty good recording too.
A Night on the Bare Mountain, most often played in Rimsky’s orchestration, is given here in Anatoly Liadov’s hotch-potch culled from Mussorgsky’s unfinished opera Sorochinsky Fair. The change of venue – London’s Royal Albert Hall – and the very immediate recording add an edge to the choral singing that brings plenty of piquancy and passion to this strange hybrid. Remarkably, Rozhdestvensky gets his British forces to play and sing with all the abandon of their Russian counterparts. What a team they would have made in Alexander Nevsky. Musically this is fascinating, with unusual colours and a melting coda. I’d urge you to give this a try if you don’t already know it.
If not Nevsky, then Prokofiev’s suite from The Love for Three Oranges will do very nicely, thank you. And so it proves; ‘The Clowns’ is played with manic energy and ‘The Magician’ is magnificently malevolent. Prokofiev’s audacious rhythms and acid colours are superbly caught, ditto the ever-present percussion and demented brass. As for the March and Scherzo, they’re imbued with rather more menace than usual, ‘The Prince and Princess’ as inward and ardent as ever. The scurrying strings and lancing brass of ‘The Flight’ have seldom emerged with such ferocity, or the cymbals sizzled so. An ear-blasting end to a most entertaining collection.
Noddy fans will want this disc, and those who have yet to experienced his unique blend of eloquence and excitement would do well to start here. The Tchaikovsky is a stunner, and while the Mussorgsky is something of a curiosity it’s well worth having. The Prokofiev-on-steroids is a wild but welcome bonus.
Another fine issue from ICA.
-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International
The upfront blare of horns and bassoons at the start of the Tchaikovsky gives a clear indication of the character of Rozhdestvensky’s approach to this score; it’s vital and vigorous, yet the rhythms of ‘In movimento di Valse’ have grace and charm. The big climaxes pack a terrific punch – what thrilling timps – the transported brass scything through the mix like one of those brazen, Soviet-era performances. That’s not to say it’s over-driven – well, not yet, anyway – merely that it’s not the carefully sculpted sound-world of, say, Claudio Abbado (DG) or Lorin Maazel (Telarc). This uncompromising earthiness is reinforced by a forthright, yet detailed, recording.
The oboe playing at the start of the Andantino is lovely, Rozhdestvensky alive to the emotional undertow of this music. The strings and woodwind are wonderfully alert and ardent, testament perhaps to Noddy’s rigorous rehearsals, and there’s real nobility in those big, swelling tunes. Anyone who knows Rozhdestvensky’s Royal Festival Hall Sleeping Beauty (BBC Legends BBCL 4091-2) will recognise that seemingly intuitive feel for phrasing; it all sounds so spontaneous. As for the animated pizzicati of the Scherzo, they have a fleeting, will-o’-the-wisp quality that’s most engaging.
All that evaporates in the sudden heat of the Allegro con fuoco. In his autobiography producer John Culshaw tells the story of how Georg Szell was tricked into taping an ill-tempered – yet fiery – rendition of this finale, but even he can’t match the incandescence of Rozhdestvensky’s reading. The BBC brass and percussion are truly heroic, the orchestra hard-driven yet coherent to the very end. I listened to this track several times, scarcely able to believe this music could be taken at such a lick and not descend into chaos. The instant roar from the otherwise very quiet audience says it all. A thumping performance, and a pretty good recording too.
A Night on the Bare Mountain, most often played in Rimsky’s orchestration, is given here in Anatoly Liadov’s hotch-potch culled from Mussorgsky’s unfinished opera Sorochinsky Fair. The change of venue – London’s Royal Albert Hall – and the very immediate recording add an edge to the choral singing that brings plenty of piquancy and passion to this strange hybrid. Remarkably, Rozhdestvensky gets his British forces to play and sing with all the abandon of their Russian counterparts. What a team they would have made in Alexander Nevsky. Musically this is fascinating, with unusual colours and a melting coda. I’d urge you to give this a try if you don’t already know it.
If not Nevsky, then Prokofiev’s suite from The Love for Three Oranges will do very nicely, thank you. And so it proves; ‘The Clowns’ is played with manic energy and ‘The Magician’ is magnificently malevolent. Prokofiev’s audacious rhythms and acid colours are superbly caught, ditto the ever-present percussion and demented brass. As for the March and Scherzo, they’re imbued with rather more menace than usual, ‘The Prince and Princess’ as inward and ardent as ever. The scurrying strings and lancing brass of ‘The Flight’ have seldom emerged with such ferocity, or the cymbals sizzled so. An ear-blasting end to a most entertaining collection.
Noddy fans will want this disc, and those who have yet to experienced his unique blend of eloquence and excitement would do well to start here. The Tchaikovsky is a stunner, and while the Mussorgsky is something of a curiosity it’s well worth having. The Prokofiev-on-steroids is a wild but welcome bonus.
Another fine issue from ICA.
-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International
JOHN OGDON: THE ARGO YEARS
ELOQUENCE AUSTRALIA
CD
$44.99
Aug 22, 2025
Scintillating pianism in music from Mozart to Messiaen: the complete Argo and Decca recordings of John Ogdon. John Ogdon began to study at the Royal Northern College of Music in 1953, at the age of 16. Fellow students such as Alexander Goehr and Harrison Birtwistle were astonished by the speed of Ogdon's mind, matched by his facility at the keyboard. He could perform and make sense of the most complex scores, old and new, as though they were child's play. Further study elsewhere led to his triumph at the Moscow Tchaikovsky Competition in 1962, when he shared the gold medal with Vladimir Ashkenazy. He began to record for Decca six years later, in December 1968, with the piano cycle by Olivier Messiaen, Vingt Regards sur l'enfant-Jesus, which renewed the Lisztian tradition of pianism for a new postwar age. Over the next three years he made four further albums for Decca, three of them with his wife Brenda Lucas. The diversity of repertoire testifies to the range of Ogdon's musical talent and intellectual curiosity. More elevated but virtuosic Messiaen (the Visions de l'Amen) sits alongside freewheeling youthful concertos by Mendelssohn and Shostakovich. Almost unknown at the time that Ogdon and Lucas recorded it for Argo in 1972, the Concerto pathetique is a two-piano version, made by Liszt in 1856, of a piece which had begun life as a Grand Solo de concert in 1849. Latterly taken up by the likes of Martha Argerich, the Concerto presents a heroic contrast on record with the restraint of the Six Canons and the poetic Andante and Variations by Schumann. Ogdon's career, both in public and on record, was brought to a sudden and tragic halt by a breakdown in 1973. Struggling with mental health for the rest of his life, he nonetheless returned to the studios briefly in June 1983, to contribute to a Decca set of Mozart's complete music for solo horn, led by Barry Tuckwell. In 1784, Mozart wrote to his father Leopold that the Quintet for Piano and Winds was 'the best thing I have yet written'; Ogdon, Tuckwell and their distinguished colleagues lean into it's mellow warmth while relishing the interplay of texture in Decca's demonstration-quality sound. This 'Original Covers' Eloquence box of Ogdon's Decca and Argo albums valuably restores the Mozart Quintet (and several other recordings) to the catalogue, accompanied by a new and illuminating essay on the pianist's life and career by Mark Ainley.
Mozart: Piano Concertos (Live)
Profil
CD
$18.99
Feb 10, 2015
For Russian pianist Ekaterina Litvintseva’s first-ever live recording, this young, up-and-coming Russian pianist, together with conductor Heribert Beissel and the Klassische Philharmonie, Bonn produced a recording of two Mozart concerto masterpieces, the No.9 in E flat Major, K271 (“Jeunehomme”), arguably his first masterwork in this genre, and the No. 12 in A, K414. “(A) singing allegro, eloquence and staying power in the…minor middle movement and perfect motor skills in the Presto…” (Bielefeld Neue Westfälische, K271 concert review)
Handel: Harpsichord Suites Nos. 6-8 Alan Cuckston
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Nov 06, 1990
The harpsichord used in this collection is a modern instrument designed by the American David Way and it incorporates features of many French 18th century harpsichords.
I am indebted to Alan Cuckston for playing this repertoire in a 'straight' way. Too many players are so bogged down by fruitless attempts to produce 'authentic performances' that they miss the spirit of the music. Their playing is therefore inhibited and has three main annoying quirks at least. Firstly, they make far too much of ornamentation so that the essential mordents, trills and shakes are given such a dramatic exaggeration that they stand out like angry spots upon a blemished face. Mr Cuckston's ornamentation is beautifully incorporated into the natural flair of the music. Secondly, some players are afraid of lively speeds for the quicker movements ... I suspect it is because they do not have the requisite finger technique ... and so the music does not come to life. But, in these performances, it does. Thirdly, some players indulge in grinding rallentandos and, to make matters worse, hang on to cadences for an inordinate length of time so that if a cadence is crotchet, crotchet rest and crotchet at say allegro, which should take just over one second, it can take more than five times as long and has the nauseating aural effect like unto some servile servant apologising to his master, and most profusely, while backing out of his presence.
Mr Cuckston does observe some rallentandos but there is not this excess, this ghastly self-indulgence and musical fetishes!
But here Handel comes alive and surely all music should be both vibrant and alive. Players can kill music for reasons I have already mentioned and no corpse is ever pleasant and it certainly cannot communicate.
The energy and reliability of these performances are exemplary. The F sharp Suite is beset with all sorts of problems but they are not revealed here. The F minor Suite has splendid fugue and, as I have said before, couldn't Handel write a good fugue untrammelled by academia which sometimes the fugues of the great J.S. Bach may be.
The shorter pieces are a delight particularly the Capriccio and more so when it is played with such panache as this. The Air and Variations were the subject of Brahms's great Variations on a Theme of Handel (do investigate the brilliant recording by Peter Katin on Athene (ATH CD 9)).
A thoroughly enjoyable disc beautifully played and well-recorded. And all players of Handel should note. Play Handel like this and you and your audiences will reap deserved awards.
-- David Wright, MusicWeb International
I am indebted to Alan Cuckston for playing this repertoire in a 'straight' way. Too many players are so bogged down by fruitless attempts to produce 'authentic performances' that they miss the spirit of the music. Their playing is therefore inhibited and has three main annoying quirks at least. Firstly, they make far too much of ornamentation so that the essential mordents, trills and shakes are given such a dramatic exaggeration that they stand out like angry spots upon a blemished face. Mr Cuckston's ornamentation is beautifully incorporated into the natural flair of the music. Secondly, some players are afraid of lively speeds for the quicker movements ... I suspect it is because they do not have the requisite finger technique ... and so the music does not come to life. But, in these performances, it does. Thirdly, some players indulge in grinding rallentandos and, to make matters worse, hang on to cadences for an inordinate length of time so that if a cadence is crotchet, crotchet rest and crotchet at say allegro, which should take just over one second, it can take more than five times as long and has the nauseating aural effect like unto some servile servant apologising to his master, and most profusely, while backing out of his presence.
Mr Cuckston does observe some rallentandos but there is not this excess, this ghastly self-indulgence and musical fetishes!
But here Handel comes alive and surely all music should be both vibrant and alive. Players can kill music for reasons I have already mentioned and no corpse is ever pleasant and it certainly cannot communicate.
The energy and reliability of these performances are exemplary. The F sharp Suite is beset with all sorts of problems but they are not revealed here. The F minor Suite has splendid fugue and, as I have said before, couldn't Handel write a good fugue untrammelled by academia which sometimes the fugues of the great J.S. Bach may be.
The shorter pieces are a delight particularly the Capriccio and more so when it is played with such panache as this. The Air and Variations were the subject of Brahms's great Variations on a Theme of Handel (do investigate the brilliant recording by Peter Katin on Athene (ATH CD 9)).
A thoroughly enjoyable disc beautifully played and well-recorded. And all players of Handel should note. Play Handel like this and you and your audiences will reap deserved awards.
-- David Wright, MusicWeb International
Handel: Alcina / Kožená, Morley, Minkowski, Les Musiciens du Louvre
PENTATONE
CD
$35.99
Mar 01, 2024
Marc Minkowski and Les Musiciens du Louvre return to Handel with a complete recording of his opera Alcina. The title role is interpreted by Magdalena Kožená, who reunites with Les Musiciens and maestro Minkowski after a series of acclaimed baroque recordings. She is joined by an excellent casts of soloists, consisting of Erin Morley (Morgana), Anna Bonitatibus (Ruggiero), Elzabeth DeShong (Bradamante), Alois Muhlbacher (Oberto), Valerio Contaldo (Oronte) and Alex Rosen (Melisso). This studio recording transports the listener to Alcina’s enchanted island, and shows Handel at the peak of his power: the score is dramatic, lush and colourful as well as introspective and profound where the story requires it. Since its foundation in 1982, and under the baton of its founder and musical director Marc Minkowski, Les Musiciens du Louvre have developed into one of the world’s best period-instrument ensembles, with a vast discography. The ensemble returns to Pentatone after having presented Mozart’s Mass in C Minor in 2020. Alcina is star mezzo-soprano Magdalena Kožena’s fifth album as part of her exclusive collaboration with Pentatone, after having presented the baroque cantatas recital album Il giardino dei sospiri and the songs in chamber-musical setting project Soiree in 2019, as well as Nostalgia together with Yefim Bronfman (2021) and Folk Songs with the Czech Philharmonic and Sir Simon Rattle (2023). The other soloists all make their Pentatone debut.
REVIEW:
There are relatively few recordings of Alcina out there, even though Handel’s Tempest-like opera of infatuation, rescue and enchantment is one of his most popular on stage. This new one scores highly, partly for the dramatic relish with which the conductor Marc Minkowski and his Musiciens du Louvre dispatch the music, but principally for a tour de force performance in the title role from the mezzo-soprano Magdalena Kožená.
— Guardian (UK)
ALLIGATOR RECORDS-50 YEARS OF GENUINE HOUSEROCKIN'
ALLIGATOR RECORDS
CD
$28.29
Jun 18, 2021
Three CDs-58 songs. The king of blues labels turns 50! This anthology celebrates 50 years of classic, genre-defining recordings by a star-studded Who's Who of American blues and roots music artists past and present. Features tracks by Hound Dog Taylor, Christone "Kingfish" Ingram, J.J. Grey & Mofro, Koko Taylor, Johnny Winter, Tommy Castro, Marcia Ball, Albert Collins, Luther Allison, James Cotton, Toronzo Cannon and many more!
ALKAN: LE PETIT CONCERT
RUBICON
CD
$19.99
Oct 10, 2025
On April 29, 1844 in Paris's Salle Erard, Charles-Valentin Alkan returned to the platform after an absence of six years. Bach, Scarlatti, Beethoven and Weber featured, as well as four of Alkan's latest compositions. Two of these appear on Andrew Yiangou's remarkable recital - the Op.22 Nocturne and the Op.23 E minor Saltarelle. The centre piece in the program is the misleadingly titled Sonatina in A minor, Op.61. This is a large-scale sonata of huge technical challenges. Busoni claimed that Alkan was, along with Chopin, Liszt, Schumann and Brahms was one of the five greatest composers for the piano since Beethoven. Alkan certainly discovered unheard of sonorities imbued with a disturbing power, and a preoccupation with the darker shades of human experience. Andrew Yiangou's program is a fascinating view into the musical world of one of the most enigmatic composers of the 19th century.
Jones: Piano Quintet
Lyrita
Sheet Music
$69.99
May 03, 2024
Among his many compositions, Kenneth V. Jones wrote a concerto for string orchestra (1956), a concerto for oboe and strings (1963), The Pollock, an orchestral prelude (1963), O Light Invisible, a cantata for soprano, mixed chorus and orchestra (1963), a sonata for solo violin (1967), Dialysis, for violin and harpsichord (1973), Quaquaverse, for saxophone quartet (1979), Paean for organ (1983), three Sinfonias for orchestra, as well as piano works, song cycles, film, play and television scores and church music, including hymns and anthems. The Quintet for Piano and String Quartet, Op.26 (1967) is a compact, finely balanced score in which the keyboard is in constant, purposeful dialogue with the strings and no single player is allowed to dominate the textures for too long. The resolute opening Allegro contains a couple of ear-catching passages where string phrases are repeated hypnotically, but for the most part, this is a vibrant, forthright movement, driven by the composer's characteristically punchy syncopated rhythms. The central Adagio brings a more expansive tempo, while maintaining an intensity of mood established by the opening movement. The outer sections are presided over by a tenacious, repeated-note figure first heard on the viola at the outset, while the central episode is more diverse and adventurous in spirit. The vigorous, lilting Allegro finale revisits material from the previous movements and rounds off the piece in exuberant style.
Virtuoso Baroque / Petri, Hannibal
OUR Recordings
SACD
$18.99
Oct 25, 2011
BAROQUE VIRTUOSO • Michala Petri (rcr); Lars Hannibal (lt) (period instruments) • OUR RECORDINGS 6220604 (SACD: 67:48)
VITALI Chaconne. TELEMANN Sonata in d, TWV 41:d4. BACH Sonata in F, BWV 1033. VIVALDI/CHÉDEVILLE Sonata in G, RV 59. CORELLI La Folia, op. 5/12. TARTINI Sonata, “Devil’s Trill.” HANDEL Sonata in B?, HWV 377
This disc presents some of the most beautiful and most intricate music of the Baroque era. Tomaso Vitali may or may not have composed the Chaconne in G Minor that was credited to him in the 19th century by violinist Ferdinand David. Nonetheless, the work has been very popular with violinists. Jascha Heifetz played it in his first New York recital, for example. Here, Petri and Hannibal play it with great care and considerable bravura. Although it was written to be played by amateurs, the artists on this CD play an intricate decorated version that no amateur is likely ever to attempt. Needless to say, it charms the ear.
The Flute Sonata in C Major was originally thought to have been written by Johann Sebastian Bach. It may, however, have been composed by one of his sons in collaboration with the father. In any case, the scintillating four-movement work has been transposed to the key of F so it can be played on the recorder and it is rendered with glorious virtuosity by Petri with Hannibal providing the well-balanced continuo.
Antonio Vivaldi, the red-headed priest of Venice, was a very popular composer. For that reason he had many imitators. One of them was the French composer Nicolas Chédeville, who passed off some of his own music as having been written by the Venetian. The Chédeville/Vivaldi Sonata in G opens with a simple Largo that caresses the ear. It is followed with a truly Baroque Allegro in which Petri and Hannibal play with abandon. The Pastorale is an invitation to enjoy nature, possibly on a pleasant spring day. Then it is followed by a catchy Allegro finale that seems to invite the listener to a musical party. Petri and Hannibal serve it up with gusto.
Perhaps the best-known works on this disc are the Corelli La Folia and the Tartini “Devil’s Trill” Sonata. Both are played with intelligence and precision, but that is true of all the works on this disc. The Corelli gives us a memorable tune with which to stay grounded for a few moments. Tartini made up a great public relations story of having heard the devil play the trill he put in the sonata. Petri plays all the lustrous silvery decorations that illuminate the background provided by Hannibal’s lute. The disc finale is Handel’s B?-Major Sonata, with its memorable songlike base.
It’s a beautiful program and every bit of it is magnificently rendered. The balance between the instruments is excellent and the sound gives the feeling of a fine, small concert hall.
FANFARE: Maria Nockin
Bargiel: Complete Orchestral Music, Vol. 1
Toccata
CD
$20.99
Nov 11, 2014
Woldemar Bargiel was the half-brother of Clara Schumann, and given his interest in music, it is not surprising that he became part of the Schumann circle. His compositions were described as pale copies of the great composers, including his brother-in-law, which is perhaps unkind but not entirely unjustified. His later works resist the pull of the late-Romantics, such as Mahler and Strauss, looking to Brahms and back to Beethoven, Haydn and Schubert.
My first encounter with his music was fairly recent, as part of my survey of piano trios. Trio Parnassus have recorded his three piano trios on two MDG CDs, which are now difficult to obtain. You can obtain readily them as downloads, but they do not come with a booklet. I am generally resistant to this situation, especially where the composer is little known, but the samples of the trios that I heard were sufficiently encouraging to persuade me into a purchase. As far as I can tell, this is the first review on this site of Bargiel’s music.
The Prometheus overture was written while Bargiel was studying at Leipzig Conservatory. There is little doubt that it owes much to Beethoven’s similarly named overture, though Liszt’s tone poem Prometheus may also have had some influence. At over eighteen minutes, there is no doubt that it stretches its material too far, but it does have some splendid melodies. The orchestration is not as interesting as the other works presented here.
The premiere of Overture to a tragedy was conducted by Bargiel’s teacher, Julius Rietz, and led Hans von Bülow to write “Bargiel can claim the highest rank among Schumann’s followers after Joseph Joachim”. It was originally titled Overture to Romeo and Juliet, but changed before publication because it simply doesn’t have the emotional depth suited to the play. It has stylistic links to Schumann’s Manfred overture, but is a fine work in its right.
The Medea overture was his big success, with numerous performances around Germany and further afield, and led to his appointment as director of the music school in Rotterdam. The booklet links it to Schumann, though I more hear Mendelssohn. It builds from an ominously quiet opening into a series of increasingly dramatic surges, separated by short darkly lyrical moments. Personally, I prefer the Overture to a tragedy, but I can understand why it was so successful in its time.
The Symphony, with the exception of the second movement, is very much a case of “spot the influence”. The first movement, is very, very Beethovenian: imagine a blend of the fifth, sixth and seventh symphonies. Some of the melodies sound as though they are direct borrowings. The slow second movement is fortunately more original, though it does include what could be construed as a funeral march. It has a number of quite beautiful melodies, and some very appealing orchestral colours from the woodwinds and horns, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The Menuett that follows might be mistaken for an abandoned Schubert piece, while the final Allegro molto owes much to Haydn, though as reorchestrated by Beethoven. Lest I sound too critical, it is worth bearing in mind that Brahms, only five years younger than Bargiel, had not completed his first symphony by this time, and when he did, there was obvious homage to Beethoven in it as well.
In its early days, Naxos was known for using journeyman orchestras from eastern Europe, but even they didn’t go as far as Toccata has done recently, with a number of recordings based in the Siberian city of Omsk. The orchestra goes by two names: the the Omsk Philharmonic Orchestra at home (and on their website) and the Siberian Symphony Orchestra abroad. The performances are well beyond serviceable – I very much doubt we are likely to get another recording of these works soon, but it would take one of the top orchestras to make much more of this music.
The booklet is written by Dean Cáceres, who has written a biography of Bargiel, and hence provides comprehensive and informative notes. The sound quality is excellent, the delicate orchestral colours well defined and the climaxes imposing.
– MusicWeb International (David Barker)
My first encounter with his music was fairly recent, as part of my survey of piano trios. Trio Parnassus have recorded his three piano trios on two MDG CDs, which are now difficult to obtain. You can obtain readily them as downloads, but they do not come with a booklet. I am generally resistant to this situation, especially where the composer is little known, but the samples of the trios that I heard were sufficiently encouraging to persuade me into a purchase. As far as I can tell, this is the first review on this site of Bargiel’s music.
The Prometheus overture was written while Bargiel was studying at Leipzig Conservatory. There is little doubt that it owes much to Beethoven’s similarly named overture, though Liszt’s tone poem Prometheus may also have had some influence. At over eighteen minutes, there is no doubt that it stretches its material too far, but it does have some splendid melodies. The orchestration is not as interesting as the other works presented here.
The premiere of Overture to a tragedy was conducted by Bargiel’s teacher, Julius Rietz, and led Hans von Bülow to write “Bargiel can claim the highest rank among Schumann’s followers after Joseph Joachim”. It was originally titled Overture to Romeo and Juliet, but changed before publication because it simply doesn’t have the emotional depth suited to the play. It has stylistic links to Schumann’s Manfred overture, but is a fine work in its right.
The Medea overture was his big success, with numerous performances around Germany and further afield, and led to his appointment as director of the music school in Rotterdam. The booklet links it to Schumann, though I more hear Mendelssohn. It builds from an ominously quiet opening into a series of increasingly dramatic surges, separated by short darkly lyrical moments. Personally, I prefer the Overture to a tragedy, but I can understand why it was so successful in its time.
The Symphony, with the exception of the second movement, is very much a case of “spot the influence”. The first movement, is very, very Beethovenian: imagine a blend of the fifth, sixth and seventh symphonies. Some of the melodies sound as though they are direct borrowings. The slow second movement is fortunately more original, though it does include what could be construed as a funeral march. It has a number of quite beautiful melodies, and some very appealing orchestral colours from the woodwinds and horns, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The Menuett that follows might be mistaken for an abandoned Schubert piece, while the final Allegro molto owes much to Haydn, though as reorchestrated by Beethoven. Lest I sound too critical, it is worth bearing in mind that Brahms, only five years younger than Bargiel, had not completed his first symphony by this time, and when he did, there was obvious homage to Beethoven in it as well.
In its early days, Naxos was known for using journeyman orchestras from eastern Europe, but even they didn’t go as far as Toccata has done recently, with a number of recordings based in the Siberian city of Omsk. The orchestra goes by two names: the the Omsk Philharmonic Orchestra at home (and on their website) and the Siberian Symphony Orchestra abroad. The performances are well beyond serviceable – I very much doubt we are likely to get another recording of these works soon, but it would take one of the top orchestras to make much more of this music.
The booklet is written by Dean Cáceres, who has written a biography of Bargiel, and hence provides comprehensive and informative notes. The sound quality is excellent, the delicate orchestral colours well defined and the climaxes imposing.
– MusicWeb International (David Barker)
Schubert: Symphonies Nos. 8 "Unfinished" & 9 "The Great"
Wiener Symphoniker
CD
$20.99
Oct 09, 2015
New on Wiener Symphoniker this release comprises Schubert’s two greatest and much loved symphonies: Nos 8 and 9. It is worth pointing out that the cover of this release describes the symphonies as No. 7 Unfinished and No. 8 The Great using the numbering of the revised Deutsch catalogue and the Neue Schubert-Ausgabe (New Schubert Edition) complete catalogue of works mainly used today in Austria and Germany.
With regard to the universally esteemed Symphony No. 8 Unfinished its history continues to be a matter of much debate. Schubert authority Nikolaus Harnoncourt recognises the symphony was intended as a four movement score although he is convinced there must have been a point when Schubert decided the two completed movements were perfect on their own. In the first movement Allegro moderato chief conductor Philippe Jordan ushers the listener into Schubert’s enthralling and dramatic sound-world with a reading that maintains a remarkable inner tension. Marked in the Andante con moto is the bitter-sweet quality of drama and breathtaking allure that Jordan imparts. The woodwind playing is top drawer.
Harnoncourt firmly believes that the ‘Great’ C Major is “a colossal edifice in which Schubert remakes the symphony … anyone who has experienced this masterpiece is no longer the same as before.” Schubert’s final symphony is a work the composer described in his personal letters as “a grand symphony.” Here maestro Jordan gives a disarming reading that in turn combines magnificent drama and deep compassion. It is hard to ignore the Beethovenian/Wagnerian influence on the opening horn calls. The resolute playing of the expansive opening movement is tinged with a dark hue. Jordan excels in the Andante con moto maintaining an exemplary pulse throughout. I savour the encounter between the primarily pastoral quality of the fresh outdoors and the dramatic squally extremes. The dignified march theme on the oboe is a highlight. The spirited dance melodies of the Scherzo receive polished playing and resolute bite. Jordan exercises judicious control of the bold and courageous Finale: Allegro Vivace a movement full of colourful incident that feels both compelling and expressive.
Despite its excellence this Wiener Symphoniker coupling has to compete with a wealth of rival accounts. My first choice recording for the Unfinished is from the Berliner Philharmoniker under Günter Wand: raptly beautiful playing engages the listener from start to finish. Wand was recorded live in 1995 from the Philharmonie, Berlin on RCA Victor Red Seal. My single standout recording of the ‘Great’ C Major is from Claudio Abbado with the Orchestra Mozart assembled at live concerts in 2011 at Bologna Auditorium Manzoni and Bolzano Auditorium, Italy. Recently released Abbado’s captivating DG account with a wealth of orchestral detail is quite superbly played and recorded.
On the other hand it may be more sensible to buy a complete set of the Schubert symphonies. Although the competition is extremely fierce I can suggest four recommendable boxes. My first choice is conducted by Karl Böhm and the Berliner Philharmoniker recorded in 1963/71 in the exceptional acoustic of Jesus-Christus-Kirche, Berlin. As a Schubert conductor Böhm has few peers. He conducts typically warm and polished performances on Deutsche Grammophon. On Decca there is an excellently played and recorded set from István Kertész and the Wiener Philharmoniker recorded in 1963/71 at the Sofiensaal, Vienna.
There is a quite outstanding set from the Berliner Philharmoniker under Harnoncourt recorded live in 2003/06 at Philharmonie, Berlin on the orchestra’s own label. Harnoncourt has made lengthy and serious study of Schubert’s manuscripts removing the unauthentic revisions that have become part and parcel of the scores. From start to finish the well prepared Berliner Philharmoniker plays magnificently with a sense of spontaneity that carries the listener along on an enthralling journey. Rather under the radar but well worth investigating is the impressive 2013 release conducted by Lorin Maazel with the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks. All the symphonies were recorded live by them in 2001 at the Prinzregententheater, Munich and after a decade have finally been issued on BR-Klassik.
Returning to this Wiener Symphoniker release, the recording engineers can be congratulated for a satisfying sound quality that is especially clear and well balanced. Jordan draws expressive yet firmly controlled playing from his Vienna orchestra. The tempi, rhythm, phrasing and dynamics are shaped into one impressive whole. This is an engaging CD that will grace any serious collection.
- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International
With regard to the universally esteemed Symphony No. 8 Unfinished its history continues to be a matter of much debate. Schubert authority Nikolaus Harnoncourt recognises the symphony was intended as a four movement score although he is convinced there must have been a point when Schubert decided the two completed movements were perfect on their own. In the first movement Allegro moderato chief conductor Philippe Jordan ushers the listener into Schubert’s enthralling and dramatic sound-world with a reading that maintains a remarkable inner tension. Marked in the Andante con moto is the bitter-sweet quality of drama and breathtaking allure that Jordan imparts. The woodwind playing is top drawer.
Harnoncourt firmly believes that the ‘Great’ C Major is “a colossal edifice in which Schubert remakes the symphony … anyone who has experienced this masterpiece is no longer the same as before.” Schubert’s final symphony is a work the composer described in his personal letters as “a grand symphony.” Here maestro Jordan gives a disarming reading that in turn combines magnificent drama and deep compassion. It is hard to ignore the Beethovenian/Wagnerian influence on the opening horn calls. The resolute playing of the expansive opening movement is tinged with a dark hue. Jordan excels in the Andante con moto maintaining an exemplary pulse throughout. I savour the encounter between the primarily pastoral quality of the fresh outdoors and the dramatic squally extremes. The dignified march theme on the oboe is a highlight. The spirited dance melodies of the Scherzo receive polished playing and resolute bite. Jordan exercises judicious control of the bold and courageous Finale: Allegro Vivace a movement full of colourful incident that feels both compelling and expressive.
Despite its excellence this Wiener Symphoniker coupling has to compete with a wealth of rival accounts. My first choice recording for the Unfinished is from the Berliner Philharmoniker under Günter Wand: raptly beautiful playing engages the listener from start to finish. Wand was recorded live in 1995 from the Philharmonie, Berlin on RCA Victor Red Seal. My single standout recording of the ‘Great’ C Major is from Claudio Abbado with the Orchestra Mozart assembled at live concerts in 2011 at Bologna Auditorium Manzoni and Bolzano Auditorium, Italy. Recently released Abbado’s captivating DG account with a wealth of orchestral detail is quite superbly played and recorded.
On the other hand it may be more sensible to buy a complete set of the Schubert symphonies. Although the competition is extremely fierce I can suggest four recommendable boxes. My first choice is conducted by Karl Böhm and the Berliner Philharmoniker recorded in 1963/71 in the exceptional acoustic of Jesus-Christus-Kirche, Berlin. As a Schubert conductor Böhm has few peers. He conducts typically warm and polished performances on Deutsche Grammophon. On Decca there is an excellently played and recorded set from István Kertész and the Wiener Philharmoniker recorded in 1963/71 at the Sofiensaal, Vienna.
There is a quite outstanding set from the Berliner Philharmoniker under Harnoncourt recorded live in 2003/06 at Philharmonie, Berlin on the orchestra’s own label. Harnoncourt has made lengthy and serious study of Schubert’s manuscripts removing the unauthentic revisions that have become part and parcel of the scores. From start to finish the well prepared Berliner Philharmoniker plays magnificently with a sense of spontaneity that carries the listener along on an enthralling journey. Rather under the radar but well worth investigating is the impressive 2013 release conducted by Lorin Maazel with the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks. All the symphonies were recorded live by them in 2001 at the Prinzregententheater, Munich and after a decade have finally been issued on BR-Klassik.
Returning to this Wiener Symphoniker release, the recording engineers can be congratulated for a satisfying sound quality that is especially clear and well balanced. Jordan draws expressive yet firmly controlled playing from his Vienna orchestra. The tempi, rhythm, phrasing and dynamics are shaped into one impressive whole. This is an engaging CD that will grace any serious collection.
- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International
Traditions And Transformations / Yo-Yo Ma, Wu Man
CSO Resound
CD
$20.99
Feb 01, 2008
Intriguing; the Harrison and the Bloch are outstanding.
This is a very miscellaneous collection, but then followers of Yo-Yo Ma’s Silk Road project will have come to expect nothing less. This particular CD was recorded as the climax of the Project’s year-long association with the city of Chicago. During that year Yo-Yo Ma and the Silk Road ensemble interacted with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. This involved a series of events which celebrated and explored many kinds of intercultural musical exchange, going beyond the specific cultural meetings and transferences which the Silk Road itself facilitated.
Here we have a sampling of such interactions, some rather more familiar and ‘mainstream’ than others. Of Jewish background, born in Switzerland, and a student in Belgium, Germany and France and resident in the USA from 1916 until his death - bar a return to Europe in the 1930s - Ernest Bloch was something of a one-man intercultural ‘event’ in himself and his music was always open to a variety of influences. Subtitled a ‘Hebraic Rhapsody for cello and orchestra’, Schelomo (Solomon) was written between December 1915 and February 1916. Bloch’s own programme notes for the piece spoke of the cello as “the reincarnated voice of King Solomon” and suggested that the orchestra was “the voice of his age … his world … his experience”. The languorous dances and slow, meditative music of much of the work’s first section are well and expressively played by Ma and the CSO under Harth-Bedova, the note of despair, of the all-embracing sentiments of Ecclesiastes (of which Solomon was, traditionally, the author) – “Vanity of vanities, all is Vanity” – never far from the surface. But perhaps this performance doesn’t quite do justice to what Bloch called the “complete negation” which characteries the work’s conclusion, where the playing seems a bit too ready to settle for rhetorical effect rather than substance. But, overall, this is a performance which puts a good case for the work and is well worth hearing.
The other familiar work is Prokofiev’s Scythian Suite - in which the CSO is conducted by Alan Gilbert - which grew from the young composer’s fascination with the nomads of the steppes, without too much in the way of direct borrowings from the music of such tribes. The modern listener is most likely to find in it a slightly politer, more westernied version of The Rite of Spring and indeed this work, like Stravinsky’s, was grounded in the composer’s collaboration with Diaghilev. Prokofiev’s rhythms are less complex and fierce than Stravinsky’s, the sense of ritualistic violence less intense, though the orchestration is brilliant and striking. The reeds of the CSO are particularly impressive in ‘The Adoration of Veles and Ala’, the first movement, while there is disciplined orchestral power galore in the opening of the second movement, ‘The Enemy God and the Dance of the Black Spirits’. Somehow, though, the performance doesn’t quite do full justice to the ominous, distinctly ‘Russian’ music of this movement, lacking the ultimate in intensity and drive. The dark evocativeness of the first part of ‘Night’ is more convincing and the final movement, ‘’Lolly’s Glorious Departure and the Ceremonial Procession of the Sun’ catches fire in the closing imagery of the rising sun. For all the efforts of orchestra and conductor, it is hard to see Prokofiev’s ballet music - striking as much of it is - as more than superficially involving any real cultural interaction.
From that point of view, Lou Harrison’s Pipa Concerto is more richly suggestive. The pipa is, to put it crudely but briefly, a kind of Chinese lute, with a pear-shaped wooden body. Harrison’s ‘concerto’ is very obviously the work of a man who, by the date of its composition, was steeped in oriental musical traditions and had given real thought to how they might exist creatively alongside western instruments and conventions. For Harrison the interface between oriental and occidental musics is familiar territory, a territory in which he can be unaffectedly and unpretentiously creative. As a result there is an ease and certainty of purpose to this concerto, which is beautifully played by Wu Man – some will have heard some of her other collaborations with, inter alia, Kronos Quartet and Yuri Bashmet. The concerto – which is perhaps better described as a suite than as a concerto if one insists on using western terminology – is various in mood and a thing of considerable beauty. In four movements - though one of them consists of four more or less distinct sections - the opening allegro balances eastern and western formality in a dialogue that has dignity and substance, while the fertility of Harrison’s eclectic imagination is evident in much of what follows. In ‘Troika’ the pipa sounds almost like a balalaika and in the brief ‘Neapolitan’ there are, perhaps unsurprisingly, but quite delightfully, echoes of the Italian mandolin tradition. In ‘Three Sharing’ the orchestra drops out and we are treated to a percussive conversation between the pipa of Wu Man, the cello of John Sharp and the double bass of Joseph Guastafeste. The most conventionally oriental episode comes in ‘Wind and Plum’, where the pipa’s cadences, against a lush orchestral background, are incisive and evocative. The penultimate movement is a lament, a ‘Threnody for Richard Locke’, a five minute elegy, powerfully melodic and exquisitely grave. By contrast the ‘concerto ends with an ‘Estampie’, in which medieval and renaissance dance rhythms meet (very fruitfully) the sounds of one of the lute’s ancestors. This whole concerto – the last of Harrison’s large-scale works – is the high spot of this disc.
In ‘Legend of Herlen’ the Mongolian composer Byambasuren Sharav draws on both native Mongolian traditions and instruments and on Western music. Western brass, in the shape of three trombones, and percussion - along with a piano - sit alongside the morin khuur, a two stringed fiddle and the sound of Khongorzul Ganbaatar, an exponent of the Mongolian tradition of ‘long song’, full of sustained and richly ornamented phrases. The results are intriguing and at times very beautiful, but perhaps most satisfying when Ganbaatar’s voice is accompanied solely by the morin khuur; the writing for western instruments is relatively pedestrian and predictable and actually seems to add very little to the Mongolian essence of the piece.
How far the Silk Road project has really succeeded – with anything like consistency – in uniting disparate musical traditions is a matter for debate. What is surely undeniable is that all their recordings have, at the very least, been stimulating, engaging and challenging. This new recording is no exception.
-- Glyn Pursglove, MusicWeb International
SIR ARTHUR BLISS: THE DECCA ORIGINALS
ELOQUENCE AUSTRALIA
CD
$14.38
Jun 12, 2020
Bliss: The Decca Originals: a new collection of Decca recordings of Bliss's music, including tracks previously unreleased on Decca CD as well as the complete version of the Violin Concerto with Alfredo Campoli. The career of Arthur Bliss was launched in London in the 1920s with provocative ensemble pieces such as Rout, but it was established by the Colour Symphony which Sir Edward Elgar invited him to write for the Three Choirs Festival. Bliss gradually became an establishment figure, appointed Master of the Queen's Music in 1953 and a fluent maker of music celebrating Englishness (such as Welcome the Queen, 1954) at a time when notions of national identity were coming under scrutiny as never before. However, Bliss always retained something of the dashing provocateur about him, and his best music often had a terse and anguished quality - such as the Introduction and Allegro which filled out the first LP of the Colour Symphony, or the score he wrote for the H.G. Wells film, Things to Come, or the Second String Quartet. These premiere, composer-conducted and -supervised recordings from the 1950s are reissued here, along with a genuine rarity, Baraza: a concertante movement for piano and orchestra crafted from the film music he wrote for Men of Two Worlds. In 1955 Bliss responded to a BBC commission with his most accomplished work in the concerto genre, written with the violinist Alfredo Campoli in mind. The premiere enjoyed a great success, and a Decca recording soon followed. However, the composer remained dissatisfied by the length of the concerto, and having recorded it complete, ensured that certain cuts were made for the first release. This missing material has been restored and the whole recording newly remastered, presenting on CD for the first time the complete score of the Concerto as it's composer and first soloist recorded it.
Penderecki: Concertos, Vol. 8 / Tworek, Jerzy Semkov Polish Sinfonia Iuventus Orchestra
DUX
CD
$21.99
May 01, 2020
The Double Concerto for Viola and Cello was written in 2012 to mark the bicentenary of the Musikverein in Vienna. It is a work with a clearly defined, neo-romantic architecture. Even though the composer employs profuse semi-tones as a form-shaping element, the music also abounds in consonances that soften the many tensions therein. The narration’s starting point is determined by the opening cantabile for the two solo instruments, which is of a romantic character. As the music proceeds, the two architectural planes start to be mutually interwoven, with a free dialogue between them lasting until the end of the piece. It is worth drawing the listener’s attention to the highly inventive solo cadenzas that are introduced by the composer in order to differentiate the mood of the work’s various sections. The version for accordion and orchestra which is featured in the present recording casts a fresh light on the composition. All the contrasts that are responsible for the structural fragmentation unexpectedly gain even sharper contours. Moreover, all the solo interludes, in view of the distinctly different character of the accordion, make the polemics between the neo-romantic and playful aesthetics even more exciting. Concerto per flauto ed orchestra da camera was written in 1992. Commissioned by L’Orchestre de Chambre de Lausanne, it was dedicated to flautist Jean-Pierre Rampal. The work falls into two extensive movements: Andante and Allegro con brio. Lyrical fragments of a somewhat impressionistic provenance predominate in the first movement. In contrast to the Double Concerto for Viola and Cello, this work is notable for its highly autonomous solo part, which on the one hand constitutes an intriguing counterpoint with the orchestral interludes, while on the other being very much to the forefront. Brief but strongly chromaticised melodic motifs are an important element that shapes the architecture of the first movement.
Geminiani: Sonatas Vol 1 / Mosca, Pianca, Paronuzzi
Stradivarius
CD
$18.99
Feb 01, 2012
GEMINIANI Violin sonatas, op. 4/1, 3, 6, 7, 10, 12 • Liana Mosca (vn); Antonio Mosca (vc); Luca Pianca (archlute); Giorgio Paronuzzi (hpd) (period instruments) • STRADIVARIUS 33853 (67:41)
William S. Newman, in his massive study of the Baroque sonata, listed Francesco Geminiani’s sonatas for violin and continuo (op. 1 from 1716 and op. 4 from two decades later) and for violin and cello (op. 5) and judged Geminiani’s knowledge of the violin to equal that of Giuseppe Tartini or Pietro Locatelli (the latter of whom, like Geminiani, had been a pupil of Arcangelo Corelli, though a more technically adventurous one), but considered his style to be more conservative. Of the six sonatas presented by Liana Mosca, Antonio Mosca (her father), Luca Pianca, and Georgio Paronuzzi, all but two consist of four movements (the others numbering three); none of the movements’ titles give a hint of their dance-like elements or rondo forms. Almost all the sonatas have been cast in major keys. Geminiani would later rework six of the 12 sonatas of op. 4 (including No. 1 and No. 7 from Stradivarius’s collection) as concerti grossi. While Mosca remarks in a personal note in the booklet that Geminani’s sonatas from op. 4 haven’t received a great deal of attention, Rüdiger Lotter included the First, Eighth, Ninth, and 10th (two from Mosca’s selection) in a program released on Oehms 356 that also included several sonatas from Antonio Maria Veracini’s op. 1 ( Fanfare 29:1).
Geminiani revised the sonatas of his op. 1 at about the same time as he published op. 4 and included in the new edition of op. 1 the kinds of ornaments that make so striking an impression in Mosca’s performance of op. 4, as in the First Sonata’s Adagio (and also that of the Third Sonata). In that movement, she also displays a rhythmic and dynamic flexibility to create a capricious expressive sensibility that apparently suits not only the works themselves but Geminiani’s reputation as an expressive performer (among some: Tartini called him il furibondo , while John Hawkins thought he lacked the fire of the later violinists of his era). The sonata’s second movement isn’t fugal; it depends for its effect on the piquancy of its homophonic lines, of which Mosca gives a tangy account. The continuo provides an ingratiating strumming accompaniment in the Largo, a backdrop against which Mosca makes at times startling adjustments to the solo’s dynamic level; the finale includes surprises after dramatic pauses, and Mosca times them with the acute sensibility of a persuasive rhetorician. In general, she produces a twangy though by no means sharp-edged tone from her violin (and a perhaps surprisingly full one from its lower registers), described as a Venetian instrument from about 1750.
Mosca and the ensemble bring vivacious wit to the second movement of the Seventh Sonata and its jaunty subject (do these suggest the stolidity for which Geminiani has sometimes been condemned?) and spice to the ornamentation of the sonata’s third movement, Moderato. The Adagio of the Third Sonata showcases, as well as the encrustations of ornamentation mentioned earlier, the sudden gestures that make the sonatas sound inventive, at least from an expressive point of view (that sense of invention, continues, reaching almost to the level of improvisation, in the ensuing Allegro). The Sixth Sonata, again in D Major, at first seems almost somber compared to the three that precede it on the program, until Mosca dispels whatever gloom might have enshrouded it with her bright gaiety in the second movement; similarly, she shifts from the almost romantic sensibility of the sonata’s Andante to crisp Gallic sprightliness (Geminiani spent time in Paris) in the final movement, recalling a similar vein in the works of Jean-Marie Leclair (also a musical descendent of Corelli, this time through Giovanni Battista Somis). The two three-movement sonatas omit the slow movement; what they lose in affetuoso they gain in starchiness (although the last Allegro of the 10th Sonata includes a slow episode that almost replaces the missing movement). A multisectional fantasy serves as the first movement of the 12th Sonata’s three.
Lotter deploys a more astringent tone in his recording but he hardly stints on ornamental or expressive detail. Still, Mosca’s unaffected geniality, dramatic Luftpausen , and rhetorical sensibility breathe extra life into her performances.
With its clean recorded sound, its imaginative performances, and its ingratiating literature, Mosca’s selection of Geminiani’s sonatas might serve either as a favorable introduction to the works of the composer for those who aren’t familiar with him or an enjoyable reminder for those who know him that he brought more than Corelli’s teachings to London. Strongly recommended to all types of listeners.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
Brahms: Symphonies No 1-4 / Zinman, Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich
RCA
CD
$21.98
Mar 20, 2012
After his highly variable Mahler cycle, it's very good to be able to report that David Zinman is back in top form for Brahms. For the most part, these are splendid performances, beautifully played and recorded. The very opening of the First symphony sets the tone: rich, emphatic, but not exaggerated. Textures are clear, bass lines unusually audible. Zinman handles some of Brahms' most intransigent bits of orchestration, such as the opening of the Third symphony, with its perpetually syncopated accompaniment, with effortless mastery. The inner movements of all four symphonies are without exception perfectly paced, including the slow movements of the Second and Fourth symphonies.
Are there a few quibbles? Naturally. The introduction to the First symphony's finale lacks mystery, while the coda of the Second symphony's finale would have benefited from slightly more prominent brass and a surge of additional energy from the podium. On the other hand, the finale of the Third never has sounded better, the coda tremendously fulfilling, while the Fourth's passacaglia is really imposing, but also energetic. Here the trombones truly make their presence felt. In short, this set stands with the best, and I suspect its stature will only grow over time.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
-----
Brahms had a special connection with Zurich. He attended the opening of the Tonhalle, the city’s famous concert hall, in 1895 and was the only living composer to be featured on the ceiling painting; it’s reproduced in the booklet for this set, part of the altogether splendid packaging. The latter-day descendants of the orchestra for that opening concert have here given us a cycle of symphonies with which I am sure the composer would have been very pleased.
The first thing that strikes you is the beauty and colour of the playing. Both times I’ve heard them live, it’s the Tonhalle strings that have impressed me most, rich and rounded, oozing with character. This makes them ideal for Brahms. The mellow beauty of the Second’s first movement suits them perfectly, but they also develop a distinctive sheen, even a slight hard edge, for the more high energy moments, such as the opening movement of the First or the invigorating downward sweep that opens the Third. There is also some sensational wind playing and some first rate solos, such as the oboe in the First and the clarinet in the slow movements of the Third and Fourth. The playing alone would be worth the asking price, but it’s Zinman’s dynamic conducting that holds the set together. His reading of each symphony carries a clear sense of a transformational journey which, for me, went beyond the ordinary. The transition from darkness to light in the First is obvious, but Zinman breaks it down still further so that there is ebb and flow in each movement: in the first movement’s Allegro, for example, there is an almost tangible feeling of the drama and tension of the first subject being tamed by the gentler lyricism of the second. The Second carries a steady trajectory towards the celebration of the finale, but Zinman takes this movement just a touch slower than many so that the ebullience is contained within a certain set of rules. The Third also seems to go on a steady path from the exhilaration of the opening to an increasing sense of melancholy which is almost - but not quite - solved by the finale. Only in the first two movements of the Fourth was that sense of direction a little lacking. The tension and energy ups dramatically with the Scherzo and the final Passacaglia becomes so intense as to be almost unbearable.
It helps that these live recordings were all taped within two days, so we have here an unusually coherent reading of Brahms’ symphonic oeuvre. Sections of the press have damned this set with faint praise, calling it a safe middle-of-the-road Brahms cycle, but for me it’s much more than that: it’s an intelligent, well argued reading of this great cycle which stands comparison with any Brahms set that has come my way in recent years. Zinman is very much in the traditional mould of Brahms interpreters, eschewing the approaches of Harnoncourt or Gardiner, but he argues convincingly that there is still a place for this in our 21st century and he certainly carried me along with him. The sound, by the way, is excellent, rich and bloomy with plenty of clarity for the inner voices.
Incidentally, for those who are interested in such things, Zinman observes all the exposition repeats. Live as these recordings are, the audience is exceptionally well behaved and there is not a hint of a cough throughout. Applause, and there must have been much, is also absent. My only quibble is that the CDs give us barely any time to digest one movement before the next begins, surely an unnecessary compression of space when there is so much spare time on each disc.
-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International
Are there a few quibbles? Naturally. The introduction to the First symphony's finale lacks mystery, while the coda of the Second symphony's finale would have benefited from slightly more prominent brass and a surge of additional energy from the podium. On the other hand, the finale of the Third never has sounded better, the coda tremendously fulfilling, while the Fourth's passacaglia is really imposing, but also energetic. Here the trombones truly make their presence felt. In short, this set stands with the best, and I suspect its stature will only grow over time.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
-----
Brahms had a special connection with Zurich. He attended the opening of the Tonhalle, the city’s famous concert hall, in 1895 and was the only living composer to be featured on the ceiling painting; it’s reproduced in the booklet for this set, part of the altogether splendid packaging. The latter-day descendants of the orchestra for that opening concert have here given us a cycle of symphonies with which I am sure the composer would have been very pleased.
The first thing that strikes you is the beauty and colour of the playing. Both times I’ve heard them live, it’s the Tonhalle strings that have impressed me most, rich and rounded, oozing with character. This makes them ideal for Brahms. The mellow beauty of the Second’s first movement suits them perfectly, but they also develop a distinctive sheen, even a slight hard edge, for the more high energy moments, such as the opening movement of the First or the invigorating downward sweep that opens the Third. There is also some sensational wind playing and some first rate solos, such as the oboe in the First and the clarinet in the slow movements of the Third and Fourth. The playing alone would be worth the asking price, but it’s Zinman’s dynamic conducting that holds the set together. His reading of each symphony carries a clear sense of a transformational journey which, for me, went beyond the ordinary. The transition from darkness to light in the First is obvious, but Zinman breaks it down still further so that there is ebb and flow in each movement: in the first movement’s Allegro, for example, there is an almost tangible feeling of the drama and tension of the first subject being tamed by the gentler lyricism of the second. The Second carries a steady trajectory towards the celebration of the finale, but Zinman takes this movement just a touch slower than many so that the ebullience is contained within a certain set of rules. The Third also seems to go on a steady path from the exhilaration of the opening to an increasing sense of melancholy which is almost - but not quite - solved by the finale. Only in the first two movements of the Fourth was that sense of direction a little lacking. The tension and energy ups dramatically with the Scherzo and the final Passacaglia becomes so intense as to be almost unbearable.
It helps that these live recordings were all taped within two days, so we have here an unusually coherent reading of Brahms’ symphonic oeuvre. Sections of the press have damned this set with faint praise, calling it a safe middle-of-the-road Brahms cycle, but for me it’s much more than that: it’s an intelligent, well argued reading of this great cycle which stands comparison with any Brahms set that has come my way in recent years. Zinman is very much in the traditional mould of Brahms interpreters, eschewing the approaches of Harnoncourt or Gardiner, but he argues convincingly that there is still a place for this in our 21st century and he certainly carried me along with him. The sound, by the way, is excellent, rich and bloomy with plenty of clarity for the inner voices.
Incidentally, for those who are interested in such things, Zinman observes all the exposition repeats. Live as these recordings are, the audience is exceptionally well behaved and there is not a hint of a cough throughout. Applause, and there must have been much, is also absent. My only quibble is that the CDs give us barely any time to digest one movement before the next begins, surely an unnecessary compression of space when there is so much spare time on each disc.
-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International
