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Lecocq: La fille de Madame Angot / Rouland, Orchestre de Chambre de Paris
Bru Zane · Oct 2021CD$42.99 -
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Laks: Quartets Nos. 3, 4 & 5 / Duczmal, Duczmal-Mróz, Amadeus Chamber Orchestra of Polish Radio
DUX · Apr 2022CD$21.99 -
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Donizetti: Don Pasquale / Mazzola, Corbelli, De Niese, Borchev, Shrader, Platt
Opus Arte · May 2014DVD$40.99 -
Cilea: L'arlesiana / Cilluffo , Sicilia, Caradja, Vestri, Antonucci [blu-ray]
Dynamic · Jul 2015Blu-Ray$36.99 -
Wagner: Der Fliegende Hollander / Haenchen, Lloyd, Naglestad, Jentzsch
Opus Arte · May 2011DVD$34.99 -
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Juliet & Romeo - Ballet By Mats Ek, Music By Tchaikovsky [blu-ray]
C Major Entertainment · Apr 2014Blu-Ray$37.99 -
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Glass: The Perfect American / Purves, Pittsinger, Davies, Teatro Real [blu-ray]
Opus Arte · Oct 2013Blu-Ray$45.99 -
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Bonds: Credo; Simon Bore the Cross / Merriweather, Dessoff Orchestra
Avie Records · Feb 2023CD$19.99 -
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Mahler: Symphony No. 2 "Resurrection" / Rouvali, Philharmonia Orchestra
Signum Classics · Sep 2023CD$27.99 -
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Honegger: Jeanne D'arc Au Bucher / Rilling, Stuttgart Radio Symphony
Haenssler Classic · Aug 2013CD$20.99 -
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Messager: Les P'tites Michu / Dumoussaud, Pays de la Loire National Orchestra
Bru Zane · Jan 2019CD$42.99 -
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SaleSchubert: Sonata in B flat Major D 960; Drei Klavierstucke D 946 / Ayako Ito
Challenge Classics · Apr 2022CD$18.99$9.49 -
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Friml, Stothart: Rose-Marie / Raines, Catholic University of America A Cappella Choir
Harbinger Records · Jan 2022CD$19.99
Lecocq: La fille de Madame Angot / Rouland, Orchestre de Chambre de Paris
La Fille de Madame Angot, an opéra-comique in three acts, was premiered at the Théâtre des Fantaisies-Parisiennes in Brussels on 4 December 1872 before scoring a similar triumph in France on 21 February 1873. In the Paris of the Directory period, Clairette Angot, an orphan raised by the people of Les Halles market, falls in love with the songwriter Ange Pitou. But, after many amorous and political plot twists, she resigns herself to marrying the wigmaker Pomponnet. Lecocq’s score, with its succession of hit numbers, created such enthusiasm that it enjoyed a run of more than four hundred performances at the Folies-Dramatiques, before conquering the French provinces and then the whole world in various translations. The work is still a relatively popular staple of the light operatic repertory even today. The Palazzetto Bru Zane here presents the first recording of the original version, with its unusual orchestration and several numbers that have fallen into oblivion.
REVIEWS:
La Fille de Mme Angot is a delightful show; and this new recording, which includes some changes from other recordings, is outstanding. It has been recorded before, but the earlier recordings were edited or shortened. Bru Zane’s new recording is the first of the original 1872 Brussels version using the operetta’s original orchestrations and contents.
The libretto (by Charles Clairville, Paul Siraudin, and Victor Konig) is set in the regime of post-revolutionary France, in the period before Napoleon and after Danton and Robespierre. Those intervening years were nostalgic for the 1872 audience, and the action was far enough in the past for a comic operetta. There are some allusions to this political tension when some of the characters support opposing sides. This is all lightened by LeCocq’s ingratiating score, and the proceedings are kept buoyant. The operetta was extremely popular and had almost 1000 performances in Brussels and Paris in its initial runs. Eventually it proved to be the most popular operetta of late-19th Century French theatre.
The new recording is simply delightful, the singing and playing effervescent. The cast is exceptional. Standouts include Veronique Gens as Mlle Lange and Anne-Catherine Gillet as Clairette. These ladies carry the show and their acting and singing is first-rate. The men are just as fine, with Mathias Vidal’s ripe tenor as the fickle Pitou, Artavazd Sargsyan as the fussy Pomponnet, and Matthieu Lecroart as the deceived Larivaudiere. Conductor Rouland leads the spritely orchestra, and the chorus is lively.
Bru Zane’s luxurious bound-in book includes a complete French and English libretto, track listings, notes, photos, drawings, and commentary. I would suggest purchasing this outstanding recording as soon as possible. My review copy is number 2426 of a limited edition of 4500.
-- American Record Guide
Laks: Quartets Nos. 3, 4 & 5 / Duczmal, Duczmal-Mróz, Amadeus Chamber Orchestra of Polish Radio
Lanza: Le Songe de Medee; Zahmal: MC 14/22 / Court-Circuit Ensemble
This double bill from one of the world’s leading choreographers offers two of his major works, danced by the Ballet de l’opéra de Paris. The dreamlike Songe de Médée, with music by Mauro Lanza and freely based on the Greek myth of Medea, explores a woman’s soul, portraying her, paradoxically, as a tender loving mother and a tormented victim who sacrifices everything, including her children, for love. MC14/22 (Ceci est mon corps) is a meeting of the spiritual and the carnal, drawing on St Mark’s version of The Last Supper in the Bible: ‘Take, eat: this is my body’. Created for twelve male dancers, Preljocaj’s ‘Apostles of Movement’, and with soundscapes by Tedd Zahmal, this powerfully sensual and passionate work is a hymn to the male body, stripped down to its deepest reality, juxtaposing the glorification of strength and the condemnation of force.
LE SONGE DE MEDEE
Médée: Marie-Agnès Gillot
Créüse, fille de Créon: Eleonora Abbagnato
Jason: Wilfried Romoli
Les Enfants: Constance Nicolas & Carl Van Gotdsenhoven
Ensemble Court-Circuit
Musical Director: Pierre-André Valade
Music by: Mauro Lanza
MC 14/22 « CECI EST MON CORPS »
Soundscapes by: Tedd Zahmal
Guest dancer/singer: Sylvain Groud
Opéra national de Paris Ballet
Choreography: Angelin Preljocaj
Stage Director: Denis Caïozzi
Picture format: NTSC 16:9 anamorphic
Sound formats: Dolby Digital Stereo / Dolby Digital 5.0
Region code: 0 (All Regions)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, German, French, Spanish, Italian
Running time: 155 mins
Special Features:
Interviews with Angelin Preljocaj, Mauro Lanza and Brigitte Lefèvre, director of Ballet de L’Opéra
R E V I E W S
"With Angelin Preljocaj’s work, precision is such that the outline of the bodies, inscribed on our retina, marks both the memory of and trajectory made by each gesture. A palpable memory, a memory of a gesture divided into an almost visible infinity of micro-intervals. There is no doubt that Angelin Preljocaj is one of those people who dictate an essential part of our choreographic heritage. He is unquestionably one of those artists who, mirroring the intentions of Arthur, asks the questions that need asking, and most notably the ones linked to the urgencies of life." -- montpellierdance.com
Donizetti: Don Pasquale / Mazzola, Corbelli, De Niese, Borchev, Shrader, Platt
Gaetano Donizetti
DON PASQUALE
Don Pasquale – Alessandro Corbelli
Norina – Danielle de Niese
Malatesta – Nikolay Borchev
Ernesto – Alek Shrader
A Notary – James Platt
Servant – Anna-Marie Sullivan
Glyndebourne Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Enrique Mazzola, conductor
Mariame Clément, stage director
Recorded live at the Glyndebourne Festival, 2013
Bonus:
- Behind the Curtain
- Danielle de Niese introduction
- Staging the Opera
- Cast gallery
Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Korean
Running time: 128 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Cilea: L'arlesiana / Cilluffo , Sicilia, Caradja, Vestri, Antonucci [blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
A MusicWeb International Recording of the Month!
Francesco Cilea, a Calabrian, is remembered principally today for his opera Adriana Lecouvreur (1902), He wrote several other operas but these are rarely performed. Quite a discovery, this is the world première on commercial video of Cilea’s three act opera L’Arlesiana (The Girl from Arles). It is directed by Rosetta Cucchia and is a co-production with Wexford Festival Opera. The Italian libretto by Leopoldo Marenco was based on the play L’Arlésienne (1872) by Alphonse Daudet one of the most celebrated of his collection of short stories Letters from my windmill (Lettres de mon moulin). It was Georges Bizet who wrote the incidental music to the play L’Arlésienne, adapted and produced by Léon Carvalho, which flopped although Bizet’s music prospered.
Originally in four acts, Cilea’s verismo score was first performed in 1897 at Teatro Lirico di Milano with a young Enrico Caruso in the role of Federico. Nevertheless in 1898 the score was revised as a three-act opera with a prelude added. Over the next 44 years Cilea made a number of revisions. In 2011 whilst going through the collection of Cilea’s papers in Palmi the Italian tenor Giuseppe Filianoti unearthed the manuscript of Federico’s aria Una mattina m’apriron nella stanza that had been cut from the four act version. Filianoti had the Una mattina orchestrated by composer Mario Guido Scappucci and it is here included in Act 3.
This psychological drama revolves around Federico, a young shepherd, who becomes increasingly infatuated with a mystery woman from Arles (L’Arlesiana). As his mental state deteriorates Federico’s infatuation becomes a dangerous obsession which the people around him are unable to assuage. The woman from Arles is traditionally never shown but here she is depicted by an actress with long red hair as an apparition that haunts Federico. In the traditional ending Federico jumps to his death out of a hayloft window, whilst in this production by director Rosetta Cucchi, our hero takes his life by slashing his own throat. The elephant in the room, and maybe one of the reasons why this opera is rarely performed today, is that the plot includes an important character which is Federico’s brother, referred to as L’Innocente, who is cognitively impaired and is described in the booklet as “mentally retarded”. Mental health can be a difficult subject to broach as several reviewers of recent productions fail even to mention L’Innocente. Running through the score is the prevailing theme of mental illness and it seems that Cilea during his youth witnessed his own mother’s mental breakdown.
Sarah Bacon’s set and Claudio Pernigotti’s costumes are mainly contemporary with the opera’s composition date except for a few modern touches. Bacon’s set is the courtyard of the whitewashed Provençal farm-house that by Act 3 has become the inside of a ward in a mental home with an elevated caged area for confinement.
Russian tenor Dmitry Golovnin plays the role of Federico. It took me some time to warm to Golovnin’s bright vocal, nevertheless by Federico’s famous Lament the 2 aria È la solita storia del pastore (track 14) a favourite of Gigli, Di Stefano and Pavarotti, Golovnin’s voice has opened splendidly displaying fluidity and focus. It’s a moving account with the anguished Federico lying on the kitchen table and his brother L’Innocente cowering underneath. In act 3 the tenor’s aria Una mattina (track 21) receives a splendidly moving rendition and Golovnin can be justly proud of his portrayal of the tormented shepherd.
Luckless and long suffering Rosa Mamai is given a characterful and suitably anguished portrayal by Annunziata Vestri. With plenty of steel in her expressive voice the Italian mezzo-soprano excels in her Act 1 Romanza Era un giorno di festa (track 6) and the great Monologue from Act 3 Esser madre è un inferno (track 23). Designer Claudio Pernigotti sees fit to dress Rosa mannishly in a grey jacket buttoned up to the neck rather in the manner of James Bond villains Dr. No, Blofeld and Drax.
Cutting a persuasive figure on stage, if dressed rather too stylishly for an old shepherd, was Stefano Antonucci as Baldassarre. Complete with limp and walking stick the compassionate Baldassarre dispenses sage-like advice that no one seems to heed. From Act 1 the old shepherd’s aria Come due tizzi accesi (track 3) and from act 2 Vieni con me sui monti (track 6) are effectively sung, expressive and focused by the Italian baritone who acts sensitively throughout.
The part of the demure and girlish Vivetta is capably sung by the Italian Mariangela Sicilia. Dressed mainly in grey and hiding behind her winter tweed coat and hat it was a surprise when Vivetta undresses down to her underwear in a pitiful attempt to seduce Federico. From Act 1 Vivetta’s Romanza Dalle fresche pendici is sung effectively by Sicilia with a bright, flexible and warm soprano, although, I am not entirely convinced by her diction.
Looking like a fearsome pantomime villain baritone Valeriu Caradja in the small role of swarthy horse-herder Metifio is suitably dark and angry.
It’s a local superstition that a child such as L’Innocente brings good fortune on a household. In this household only Baldassarre pays the boy any attention. Marked by a shock of blonde hair L’Innocente is played by counter-tenor Riccardo Angelo Strano. In what is more of an acting role L’Innocente does slightly contribute vocally but nothing too serious.
Francesco Cilluffo conducts his Orchestra Filarmonica Marchigiana with verve and assurance. Similarly the well prepared 'Coro Lirico Marchigiano V. Bellini' maintains the high standard.
As I expected from Dynamic, the sound quality is satisfactorily balanced and agreeable, being clear, if a touch lacking in warmth. In High Definition the picture quality is most pleasing with an excellent definition. The accompanying booklet includes translations of a splendid essay by Giancarlo Landini and an informative note by director Rosetta Cucchi. The synopsis provided is a traditional scenario and is not totally in step with what we saw on stage under Rosetta Cucchi’s direction.
Filmed at Teatro Pergolesi, Jesi, Ancona the video direction by Tiziano Mancini is admirable, employing cameras actively. This avoids fatigue or tedium. The audience at Teatro Pergolesi is only seen whilst taking their seats before curtain up. The camera fixes on the stage action and doesn’t break to any orchestral players in the pit for solos.
This is a strong production that generates considerable dramatic tension. For those with a particular interest in verismo this Cilea work is a real find and is easy to recommend.
– MusicWeb International (Michael Cookson)
Wagner: Der Fliegende Hollander / Haenchen, Lloyd, Naglestad, Jentzsch
Richard Wagner
DIE FLIEGENDE HOLLANDER
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Dalland – Robert Lloyd
Senta – Catherine Naglestad
Erik – Marco Jentzsch
Mary – Marina Prudenskaja
Der Steuermann Dalands – Oliver Ringelhahn
Der Hollander – Juha Uusitalo
Netherlands Opera Chorus
Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra
Harmut Haenchen, conductor
Martin Kušej, stage director
Recorded live at the De Nederlandse Opera, February 2010.
Bonus:
- Cast gallery
- Insights and interviews
Picture format: NTSC 16:9 anamorphic
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish, Dutch
Running time: 166 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
R E V I E W:
Director Martin Kusej has been responsible for one of the worst Don Giovannis I've ever seen (Salzburg, 2006--Decca DVD) and the best Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (BBC--Opus Arte), so I wondered what to expect from this Netherlands Opera Dutchman, recorded in February, 2010. As it turns out, it is indeed "controversial"--it takes startling liberties and doesn't always make sense--but it's a very strong performance.
But before I get into its look and dramatic execution I must give utmost praise to conductor Hartmut Haenchen, who offers a whip-smart account of the score in the original one-act version, taking just two hours and 15 minutes. It never feels rushed but it does feel inexorable, with the orchestra playing with amazing transparency: you can hear Wagner's genius creating and growing. I don't want to call it a chamber-like approach because it is anything but delicate and miniaturized, but each instrumental section gets its due and is crystal clear; the balance between stage and pit is invariably right (bravo to the engineers as well), and somehow Haenchen manages Wagner's awkward mood/tempo changes as if they were organic.
The second act, with Erik popping in all hot and bothered, and then later, Daland, after the big duet, is normally clumsily done; here drama remains heightened. The chorus also is remarkably handled, particularly given what they have to do physically.
I can understand people despising Kusej's approach, but the care he gives to the characterizations somehow makes up for the overall approach which, as suggested above, is quirky. We are on a cruise ship, all glass doors and a deck, in modern dress. (The roomy, wall-to-wall set is by Martin Zehetsgruber and costumes are by Heide Kastler). The tourists, in true tourist outfits (floral shirts, shorts, sunglasses) are terrified of what is on the other side of the glass doors: it is the Dutchman's crew, who appear to be zombies. Well, maybe not zombies, but undesirables--like refugees from one of those unhappy countries who are being ferried to more stable places, each person with a look of desperation on his or her face. Perhaps they are asylum seekers, looking for a homeland, with a doomed captain looking for redemption and love.
The Dutchman suddenly appears--perhaps he's been lying down amid the guests--to sing "Die Frist ist um". When Daland arrives, he's a spiffily dressed tycoon and is interested in business--money changes everyone's status and the Dutchman realizes that. The second scene is set in a women's spa, with everyone except Senta in bathing suits or towels; she is in a black dress, actually has an old-fashioned spinning wheel (what is it doing in a spa?) and stares at a smallish painting of the sea and sky. (Sea and sky are projected throughout the overture as well.)
The last scene, after the weird back-and-forth of the sailors (in black, monkish, hooded clothing) and ladies, is stunning in its severity--just Senta, the Dutchman, and Erik against a background of roiling sea and sky. Senta has become part of her idealized picture. Will she remain true to the Dutchman until death? Apparently, since the shotgun-bearing Erik shoots them both dead at the curtain. Applicable or not--and each may decide for him/herself--this is a very good-looking, action-packed, thought-provoking show.
All of this would be for close to naught if the singing and dramatic commitment were any less fine than they are. Juha Uusitalo has found his ideal role in the Dutchman. His voice is big, with a distinct grain. It is not particularly beautiful but it is highly expressive, and if you think you've seen brooding, wait until you see him. His duet with Senta in Act 2 is so fraught with tension, attraction, disbelief, shock, relief, and sheer craziness that it could leave you trembling. He may be the finest Dutchman I've ever encountered.
Catherine Naglestad's Senta, almost perfectly sung, matches Uusitalo. She's clearly playing with less than a full deck from the start, but she gets stronger as the opera progresses and her vision becomes clearer and more real. I believe she sings Senta's ballad a half-tone higher than usual, which was Wagner's original conception, and the voice gleams. It is an ideally built sound, from the solid middle both up and down, and it's filled with warmth.
Tenor Marco Jentzsch, obviously a plot linchpin in Kusej's worldview of this opera, is active, involved, and sings with ringing if not always appealing tone, particularly above the staff. But he comes across as he should here, as a major player rather than an also-ran in Senta's life. Robert Lloyd proves that he still has the resources for Daland, and his mercenary outlook is in keeping with the text. There have been many better Steersmen than Olivier Ringelhahn, but Marina Prudenskaja's Mary is more appealing than most. Does she run the spa?
Picture, sound, and all production values are stunning, although there is no track-listing in the accompanying booklet (this seems to be a trend that is to be discouraged). There are three other performances of this opera on DVD; none is nearly as good as this one but Kultur's, from the Savonlinna Opera Festival (with Behrens and Grundheber) is extremely well sung. Subtitles are in English, French, German, Spanish, and Dutch. This may be odd, but it is not to be dismissed under any circumstances. It packs quite a wallop.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
Bortniansky: I Cried Out To The Lord / Ensemble Cherubim
BORTNIANSKY Cherubic Hymn No. 7. Choral Concertos: Nos. 1, 6, 9, 15, 18, 21, 27, 32. How Glorious is our Lord in Zion • Marika Kuzma, cond; Ens Cherubim • NAXOS 8.573109 (63:04 Text and Translation)
We all know that Russian music began with Glinka, right? Well no, actually it didn’t, especially if one considers the rich tradition of a cappella liturgical music in the Russian Orthodox Church. From the late 17th century onward, these compositions are often credited to individual composers, such as Nikolai Diletsky (1630–1690), Vasily Titov (1650–1715), Maksim Berezovsky (1745–1777), Stepan Degtiarev (1766–1813), and Artemy Vedel (1767–1806). Dmitry Bortniansky (1751–1825) was one of the consummate practitioners of this art, but in addition to church music he wrote operas and instrumental works. All of the composers mentioned were strongly influenced by European musical styles, and none more so than Bortniansky. Of Ukrainian birth, he was recruited into the Imperial Court Chapel Choir in St. Petersburg at the age of seven. Because of his outstanding abilities, he was eventually sent to Italy to study, spent 10 years there, and had several of his operas produced in Italian theaters. Upon his return to Russia in 1779 he achieved great success as a composer and choral director and in 1796 was appointed director of the Imperial Court Chapel.
There have been a good many recordings of Bortniansky’s music, but this one is claimed to be “the first to restore authentic early 19th-century Church Slavonic pronunciation and reintroduce fine details found in archival sources.” Not having been present in Russia during the early 19th century, I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the pronunciation, and I would be curious to know on what basis it was established. The notes by conductor and Bortniansky scholar Marika Kuzma shed little light on this issue, except to remark that the orthography in the printed Cyrillic texts “intentionally includes archaic letters to signal an earlier, St. Petersburg pronunciation of Church Slavonic that differs from current Russian or Ukrainian practice.” The “archaic” letters mentioned were eliminated from Russian in the post-revolutionary orthographic reform, which as far as I know did not affect pronunciation. The eliminated letters were simply considered redundant. The claim to historical authenticity is somewhat undermined by the presence in the choir of women’s voices, which traditionally were not used in Orthodox Church music. I must acknowledge, however, that many other recordings of such material also employ a mixed chorus. In any case, Kuzma’s credentials as a choral director, musicologist, and Bortniansky expert are strong, and one can have some confidence in the quality of her research on issues relating to this composer. Above all, it is the quality of the music and the performances that is important, and here Kuzma’s recording is on very firm ground.
A notable feature of these performances is their transparency, contrasting with the massive, blended choral sound favored by other recordings of similar material. This transparency is very beneficial to Bortniansky’s contrapuntal textures and antiphonal effects, and achieving it is clearly one of Kuzma’s major objectives. In the notes, she announces her intention to avoid the “rich, legato choral style of traditional Russian choirs,” which creates “a wash of sound that blurs the fine detail indicated in Bortniansky’s scores.” In Cherubic Hymn No. 7, which opens the program and is probably the composer’s best-known work, the excellent intonation of the Ensemble Cherubim is also immediately apparent. Kuzma’s delivery is a bit quicker but also more relaxed and serene than the performance by the Lege Artis Chamber Choir of St. Petersburg (Sony). Another hymn, Kol’ slaven nash Gospod v Sione (How Glorious is Our Lord in Zion), brings the disc to a tranquil conclusion. Its text, drawn from a poem by Mikhail Kheraskov (1733–1807), is in Russian rather than Church Slavonic, unlike the rest of the works on the disc.
Between the two hymns, the bulk of the disc is devoted to eight of Bortniansky’s 35 sacred concertos for single chorus (he also wrote some for double chorus). The concertos are in three or four short movements and set a variety of religious texts, drawn mostly from the Psalms. Slow movements tend to alternate with faster ones, the latter being highly contrapuntal in character. The emotions expressed in these works run the gamut from deepest despair and mourning to joyous celebration. In addition to the qualities of transparency, textural detail, and precise intonation previously mentioned, Kuzma’s performances are characterized by intensity, elasticity, and variety in tempo and dynamics. If you think an hour of unaccompanied choral music can become monotonous, think again. That is not the case here.
Although a substantial number of discs that include some music by Bortniansky are available, recordings devoted exclusively to his choral music are few, and the selection of concertos assembled by Kuzma cannot currently be replicated on CD. The main competition for this release comes from the efforts of Valery Polyansky, who recorded all 35 concertos with the Russian State Symphonic Capella for Chandos on five discs. The first volume of his series, which contains the first nine concertos and three of those included by Kuzma, is currently available only as an MP3 download. Each of the remaining Chandos discs includes no more than one or two of the works recorded by Kuzma. Polyansky also recorded some of the concertos earlier for Melodiya, first with the Moscow Conservatory Chamber Choir and later with the USSR Ministry of Culture Chamber Choir. These earlier recordings appear to be unavailable at present. The contrast between Polyansky’s approach and that of Kuzma is consistent with her own description of the differences between the “traditional Russian choral sound” and what she seeks to achieve. It would be difficult to question Polyansky’s commitment and authority in this repertoire, or the sonorous majesty of his Chandos recordings, but where I’ve been able to make direct comparisons (in Nos. 1, 6, 9, 18, and 21), I find myself often preferring Kuzma, because of clearer textures, livelier tempos (especially in the slow movements), and more pointed rhythm. It is also noteworthy that where Polyansky relies constantly on a massed chorus, Kuzma frequently assigns lines to individual singers or a small contingent, which makes for a greater variety of texture. The differences in interpretation are perhaps most obvious in the opening movement of Concerto No. 21 (“He that dwelleth in the help of the Most High”), where Polyansky’s marmoreal pace nearly doubles Kuzma’s timing (4:31 vs. 2:22), and Kuzma’s chamber-like texture contrasts strikingly with the dark mass of Polyansky’s chorus. Here one must acknowledge the greater sense of other-worldly mystery achieved by Polyansky, as well as the more powerful presence of bass voices in his rendition. Both these varieties of interpretation have their place.
The sound of this recording is very clean, clear, and well focused, free of the wooliness that sometimes afflicts choral recordings. Polyansky’s Chandos discs, by contrast, are recorded in a much more reverberant environment. The Church Slavonic and Russian texts are offered in Cyrillic, along with English translations, but no transliteration is provided, which is great for those with knowledge of the Cyrillic alphabet, but those without it are at a disadvantage.
The fine performances on this disc offer a good introduction to and sampling of Bortniansky’s choral music. I strongly recommend this excellent disc to anyone interested specifically in this composer or in Russian music before Glinka.
FANFARE: Daniel Morrison
Tchaikovsky Ballet Masterpieces / Margot Fonteyn, Michael Somes
Tchaikovsky Ballet Masterpieces
Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky:
Sleeping Beauty (excerpts)
Swan Lake (excerpts)
The Nutcracker: Act II
Margot Fonteyn, dancer
Michael Somes, dancer
Sleeping Beauty
choreography after Marius Petipa
Royal Opera House Orchestra
John Lanchbery, conductor
Broadcast: 20 December 1959
Swan Lake
choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Robert Irving, conductor
Broadcast: 9 June 1954
The Nutcracker
choreography by Peter Wright after Lev Ivanov
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra
Hugo Rignold, conductor
Broadcast: 21 December 1958
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: LPCM Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Booklet notes: English, French, German
Running time: 72 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Juliet & Romeo - Ballet By Mats Ek, Music By Tchaikovsky [blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
Mats Ek
JULIET AND ROMEO
Ballet in Two Acts
with music by Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky
Juliet – Mariko Kida
Romeo – Anthony Lomuljo
Father – Arsen Mehrabyan
Mother – Marie Lindqvist
Duke – Niklas Ek
Nurse – Ana Laguna
Mercutio – Jérôme Marchand
Royal Swedish Ballet
Royal Swedish Orchestra
Alexander Polianichko, conductor
Recorded live at the Royal Swedish Opera, Stockholm, 2013
Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format:PCM Stereo 2.0 / DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Booklet notes: English, German, French
Running time: 107 mins
No. of Discs: 1
Glass: The Perfect American / Purves, Pittsinger, Davies, Teatro Real [blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
The last days of the American icon Walt Disney form a powerful and poignant subject for Philip Glass's latest opera, which was filmed at its first performances in Madrid in January 2013. Phelim McDermott's spectacular production is worthy of Disney's own visual imagination and its definitive influence on American culture, while in the pit is the conductor Dennis Russell Davies, an experienced and authoritative champion of the composer's hypnotically beautiful music, which gives wings to Rudy Wurlitzer's operatic transformation of Peter Stephan Jungk's novel, using both fact and fiction to peer into Disney's troubled psyche as illness forces him to confront his mortality.
What the press said: ''...one of the crowning events of the past year's globe-trotting celebration of Mr. Glass's 75th birthday.'' The New York Times
Philip Glass
THE PERFECT AMERICAN
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Walt Disney – Christopher Purves
Roy – David Pittsinger
Dantine – Donald Kaasch
Hazel George – Janis Kelly
Lillian Disney – Marie McLaughlin
Sharon – Sarah Tynan
Diane – Nazan Fikret
Lucy / Josh – Rosie Lomas
The Improbable Skills Ensemble
Madrid Teatro Real Chorus and Orchestra
Dennis Russell Davies, conductor
Phelim McDermott, stage director
Recorded live from the Teatro Real, Madrid, February 2013
Bonus:
- Cast gallery
Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 120 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)
Bonds: Credo; Simon Bore the Cross / Merriweather, Dessoff Orchestra
New York City-based The Dessoff Choirs, instrumental in re-establishing the music of 20th-century African American composer Margaret Bonds with the world-premiere recording of her Christmas oratorio, The Ballad of the Brown King, present two more Bonds premieres: new orchestrations of her cantata, Simon Bore the Cross, created with long-time collaborator and friend Langston Hughes, and the large-scale Credo set to prose by W.E.B. Du Bois. Akin to The Ballad of the Brown King, which centered around the dark-skinned king Balthazar who journeyed to Bethlehem to witness the birth of Jesus Christ, Bonds' and Hughes' North African Simon carried Jesus's cross on the way to Calvary, giving African American audiences an opportunity to see themselves within the biblical canon. Credo bears Bonds' evocative vocal writing style infused with elements from various black musical genres. The first complete performance of the work was given in 1973, to rave reviews: "Credo verified her talent, her sensitivity, her proficiency as orchestrator and her concern for the Negro spiritual" (Los Angeles Times). Written during the last decade of Bonds' life, neither work was performed in its entirety during the composer's lifetime. With this release – coinciding with Black History Month – conductor Malcolm J. Merriweather, The Dessoff Choirs and Orchestra and soloists, soprano Janinah Burnett and bass-baritone Dashon Burton, bring Margaret Bonds' beautiful and spiritual music back to life, conveying a powerful message that remains poignant and relevant for music lovers today.
REVIEWS:
The Dessoff Choirs have been at the center of New York cultural life since 1924 and they have done us a service with this release. Bass Baritone Dashon Burton and soprano Janinah Burnett don’t so much sing this music as champion it, turning that noun into a verb with every note of every phrase. (Ms Burnett sounds like a young Leontyne Price.) Malcolm Merriweather, who also conducts the New York Philharmonic Choir, brings all the moving parts together nicely...I am envious of their experience and would have been proud to add my voice to theirs.
-- American Record Guide
The youthful sounding choir is actually very good indeed singing with good ensemble and attack but also sensitivity when required. The recording was made for/by the choir and licensed to Avie for distribution...
...I can imagine the second work – Simon Bore the Cross – being popular amongst choral societies of every country and continent. This is written for organ, strings and harp alongside the choir and is a substantial work in eight sections running just shy of 40 minutes. This tells the story of the crucifixion from Jesus’ trial through to his death and in a Postlude, the Resurrection. For the text Bonds turned to Langston Hughes who was the source and guiding influence for many of her works. In the fourth and fifth sections; Who is that man? And Don’t you know, Mary? Langston explicitly underlines the belief that Simon of Cyrene [a city in Northern Africa] was Black – the latter movement includes the text; “black men will share the pain of the cross, black men will share the pain, in a world… that’s filled with trials and troubles.” The following Walkin’ to Calvary has rather moving echoes of the meditative chorales in the great Bach settings of the Passions with Burnett joining the chorus to touchingly sing; “Thank you, brother Simon, Thank you for helping brother Jesus”. This culminates in penultimate movement The Cruxifixion a powerful setting of an existing Spiritual. Here and throughout the work the organ makes a rather thunderous but impressive contribution and the simpler instrumentation of strings and harp alone alongside the organ works rather well.
Whilst the influence of popular music in general and spirituals in particular is very evident there is something in the vocal writing; lyrical lush and grateful to sing that brought to mind John Rutter’s style of communicative composing. In essence this is not complex music but neither does it intend to be – it carries an extra-musical message that is best conveyed in direct, intelligible and engaging music. Again the committed singing of the Dessoff choirs adds to the overall impact of the work. The liner lists conductor Malcolm J. Merriweather as having edited and arranged Simon Bore the Cross but there is no further elaboration as to exactly what or how much he had to do to bring the work to the performance we hear here. But again it is a good indication of the level of engagement and belief in this music by the performers.
Full texts in English only are provided along with the usual artist biographies and performer lists of both choirs and orchestra. Overall this is an impressive presentation of two major scores by a composer who is gradually becoming recognised for her contribution to both the field of music and social equality – the liner quotes a letter from Bonds to Langston Hughes; “Together Simon Bore the Cross and Credo encourage all to embrace the true concept of Brotherhood toward people of color throughout the world”.
-- MusicWeb International
Petitgirard: The Elephant Man / Sykorova, Rivenq, Et Al
Joseph Merrick, The Elephant Man
Elephant Man - Jana Sykorova
Doctor Treves - Nicolas Rivenq
Tom Norman, showman - Robert Breault
Mary, nurse - Valérie Condoluci
Eva Lükes, matron - Elsa Maurus
Carr Gomm, hospital manager - Nicolas Courjal
The Coloratura - Magali Léger
Jimmy, showman's assistant - Mari Laurila-Lili
Nice Opera Chorus · Nice Philharmonic Orchestra
Conducted by Laurent Petitgirard
DVD 9 · NTSC · Regions 1-6
Picture Format: 16:9
Audio Formats: Dolby Digital 2.0 · Dolby Digital 5.1
Subtitles: English · French · German
Running time: 166 mins
Written in 1998, Petitgirard's opera differs from David Lynch's cult film in offering an entirely different perspective on the tale of Joseph Merrick, born in 1863 with horrific deformities, exhibited as a freak at the circus, taken in by Dr. Treves at the London Hospital and subsequently afforded celebrity status. Where the film is based largely on Dr. Treves' memoirs, the opera is based on biographies of Joseph Merrick giving his character a more central focus than in the film.
"The opera is many ways the most original treatment of the story... The most revolutionary aspect of the opera is the writing of Merrick's part for a female singer. At first tempted to make Merrick a counter-tenor, Petitgirard finally decided that only the contralto voice could give him the effects he wanted. Certainly, in the theatre, this helps to create the aura of strangeness, of otherness, which Merrick personifies." -- The Independent "Petitgirard's musical vocabulary reflects his French heritage - the influences of Fauré, Ravel, Poulenc and Satie are evident - but his subtlety, melodic gift and sensitivity to the drama make him well-equipped to inherit the mantle and create his own outstandingly original idiom... No doubt [the opera] would prove even more powerful onstage than on disc." -- Opera News
Mauritius: Tribute to Ti Frere - Sega, Music of Exile
Mahler: Symphony No. 2 "Resurrection" / Rouvali, Philharmonia Orchestra
Mahler 2 is the second album from Philharmonia Records; following their first album - Santtu conducts Strauss. “[Also sprach Zarathustra] Rouvali’s conducting of both is certainly interesting and personal... impressive; an expansive reading that sees the work whole...[An Alpine Symphony] undeniably picturesque; vivid and dramatically projected...top-notch playing; and this extravagant score also enjoys notable recorded sound... lingering lyricism; invariably heartfelt and; in conclusion; cathartic”; Founded in 1945; The Philharmonia Orchestra creates thrilling performances for a global audience and has premiered works by Richard Strauss; Sir Peter Maxwell Davies; Errollyn Wallen; Kaija Saariaho and many others. The Philharmonia has an extraordinary 77-year recording legacy; and has recorded around 150 soundtracks; with film credits stretching back to 1947. In the 2021/22 season the Orchestra performs in Romania; Spain; Finland; Greece and Germany.
Santtu-Matias Rouvali is a Finnish conductor and percussionist; and is currently principal conductor of the Philharmonia Orchestra. Rouvali continues his relationships with orchestras across Europe; including with the Berlin Philharmonic; New York Philharmonic; Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra; Munich Phillharmonic and the the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France.
REVIEW:
In the first movement Rouvali is animated and engaged, using a lighter hand than most other conductors. Such a natural lyrical bent would seem to run counter to music that Mahler originally conceived as a funeral rite (Totenfeier), and it’s certainly unusual for a conductor to have such a relaxed grip on the drama and still make the first movement work.
The point is underscored in the minuet-like second movement, usually a throwaway, which is captivating in Rouvali’s hands, a nostalgic poem. The Scherzo is taken at quite a clip, divorcing the music from the gently satiric song in Des Knaben Wunderhorn about St. Anthony preaching to a school of transfixed fish. Rouvali sharpens the edges and makes the movement rambunctiously exciting—I can’t remember any other conductor leading this music one beat to a bar.
As the soloist in the raptly reverent “Urlicht,” mezzo Jennifer Johnston is sensitive and sincere, but Rouvali leads such an eloquent orchestral part that one wishes he had a singer of the highest caliber. Johnston’s German is more than a shade too basic for the poetry. The thunder and brass that open the fifth movement display excellent balance, bringing forward this conductor’s ability to extract beautiful playing for which the word “burnished” was invented. The many solos and ensemble passages in the final half hour of the “Resurrection” Symphony come off with unforced gorgeousness, needing no shred of rhetoric to make an impact.
Rouvali has held his fire to some extent, making it all the more thrilling when he unleashes the full power of the finale in moments of blazing climax. He must have had the audience on the edge of their seats. Against this tumult, the sudden whispered quiet of the chorus is doubly effective. Soprano Mari Eriksmoen emerges with melting lyricism, and yet you are aware that Rouvali milks nothing for effect—his eye is fixed on the musicality of every measure. You also notice how even the softest passages retain a restrained intensity that keeps the moving line tensile and alive. This is particularly helpful in the duets for mezzo and soprano, where the momentum is most likely to sag. Here, not a single transition is awkward or faltering.
The final apotheosis is so magnificently handled that I can’t blame the producers for including a minute of excited applause from the audience in Royal Festival Hall. For anyone who has harbored doubts about Rouvali’s meteoric rise, a performance as imaginative and beautifully shaped as this one should dispel them. I’m convinced that he has a special gift. I cannot wait to see how it will unfold in the coming years.
-- Fanfare (Huntley Dent)
Byron: In the Village of Hope
Honegger: Jeanne D'arc Au Bucher / Rilling, Stuttgart Radio Symphony
HONEGGER Jeanne d’Arc au bûcher • Helmuth Rilling, cond; Sylvie Rohrer ( Jeanne d’Arc ); Eörs Kisfaludy ( Fr. Dominique ); Karen Wierzba ( La Vierge ); Letizia Scherrer ( Marguerite ); Kismara Pessatti ( Cathérine ); Jean-Noël Briend (ten); François Le Roux (bs); Stuttgart College Boys’ Ch; Gächinger Kantorei Stuttgart; Stuttgart RSO des SWR • HÄNSSLER 098.636 (2 CDs: 84:30 & French only) Live: Stuttgart 4/2–3/2011
Here is, truly, an unusual release: the little-known but extremely powerful dramatic cantata by Arthur Honegger, Joan of Arc at the Stake, conducted by one of the world’s leading baroque specialists, Helmuth Rilling. This combination, which seems on the surface a mismatch, in fact results in one of the most emotionally powerful and musically atmospheric realizations on record in my entire memory.
The drawback, of course, is that the libretto is in French only. Certainly one is aware enough of Joan’s story to be able to follow what is going on in generalizations, yet the highly literate subtleties of Paul Claudel’s libretto are lost on the non-French speaker. Thus we must rely on the few words we can pick out of the booklet and rely on the emotional and dramatic power of the speakers, singers, chorus, and orchestra. Even within those parameters, this is pretty powerful music. Behind the spoken dialogue, at one point, the chorus enters singing strophic lines in almost Stravinsky-like neoclassicism, which then leads directly into a baritone solo with choral interjections. Honegger’s orchestra slashes and burns throughout: sometimes as an undercurrent, at other times in the foreground, moving from staccato brass chords to stabbing or swirling figures, underlining the drama of the situation—confined to the time of Joan’s trial and execution—in the most dramatic terms possible.
Conductor Marin Alsop has given us this synopsis of the oratorio at npr.org/2011/11/05/142021891/arthur-honeggers-joan-of-arc-for-the-ages:
“Claudel wanted to look at Joan’s life in a series of flashbacks—starting at the end. The piece opens with darkness setting over all of France. Is this the France of 1400 or the France of 1935? Perhaps that’s the point. Joan meets Frère Dominic in the afterlife and recognizes him, at which point they look back on what led to her trial and death. When Joan asks, ‘How did this happen?,’ Frère Dominic replies, ‘It was a game of cards that decided your fate,’ alluding to the political quagmire in which Joan, an illiterate peasant teenager, found herself immersed. The adjudicator at Joan’s trial was aptly named Cauchon (pig), and Claudel goes wild with the possibilities. The assessors are all depicted as animals, with the ass leading the pack and sheep commenting on the proceedings. And then there’s Honegger’s instrumentation, which creates a vibrant and unique sound world. He includes three saxophones plus an ondes martenot —a spooky-sounding instrument, invented in 1928, that sounds like its cousin the theremin. Honegger and Claudel’s collaboration brings Joan to life in a vivid and emotional drama that concludes with the line, ‘There is no greater love than the person who gives his life for a friend.’”
Alsop, as well as other commentators, allude to the “cinematic” quality of this opera-oratorio, mentioning that Honegger was also a film music composer. But if this is film music, it is extremely dominant in mood and structure, which to my ears is far too aggressive a composition to work well in that mode. Yet there is a certain “cinematic” structure to the work, which in effect makes it a “movie for the ears.” (One constantly hears nowadays that we “listen with our eyes,” so why not at least one piece where we “see with our ears”?) Alsop conducted a live performance of this work at the Barbican in 2011, but according to one online commentator the program notes for that performance were also spotty and indistinct.
I’ve been unable to track down an English translation of the text anywhere online. From what I can judge, between the French-only text and my slight grasp of the language, the actors in this recording are all extremely good, bringing out Joan’s combination of confusion, defiance, and fear perfectly. Much of the credit for this goes to Sylvie Rohrer, whose reading of the text is both dramatic and natural-sounding—a rare combination indeed. The singers are all excellent in both vocal quality and—more importantly—diction, as is the chorus itself. Despite being German, Rilling is to be highly commended for his persistence in bringing out the proper idiomatic Frenchness of the music as well as his insistence on clarity of pronunciation.
Particular credit for the success of this recording goes to engineer Friedemann Trumpp for capturing such incredible 3D sound.
There appear to be three other recordings available on CD: Supraphon 11 0557/58 featuring narrators Nelly Borgeaud and Michel Favory, sopranos Christiane Château and Anne-Marie Rodde, alto Huguette Brachet, and the Kühn Children’s Chorus, Czech Philharmonic Chorus and Orchestra conducted by Serge Baudo; a single-disc version (meaning under 80 minutes) with narrators Anne-Marie Ferrière, René Piloy, and Madeleine Joris, sopranos Marthe Dugard and Ria Lenssens, tenor Frédéric Anspach, and conductor Louis de Vocht (Opera d’Oro 1223); and another one-disc version conducted by Siegfried Heinrich (VMS Musical Treasures 152), none of which I’ve heard. I have, however, heard the recording by Sonia Petrovna, Michaël Lonsdale, Christian Papis, Anne-Marie Blanzat, other soloists, the Choeur de Rouen-Haute-Normande, and Orchestre Symphonique Français conducted by Laurent Petitgirard on Cascavelle OSF 49008/09. This was also a live performance, given on June 26 and 27, 1992 at the Salle Wagram in Paris. I could only find references to this recording on French CD sites like Price Minister and Amazon.fr. The sound quality is also excellent, and this performance, too, is wonderfully atmospheric, but none of the actors are recorded particularly well—they sound like they’re behind the choir. The actress playing Joan (Petrovna) is good, but does not declaim her text with as much feeling (perhaps she was an excellent actress visually, but on CDs you can’t see her). A very good performance, then, but this new Hänssler release is just as fine musically, better in the placement of the actors, and of course much easier to obtain, making it well worth getting. With the odd running time of this work, one could possibly combine it with the equally excellent but seldom-heard L’Amore de tre re of Montemezzi for a superb evening of dramatic works that will challenge and not just entertain you.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Naxos Musical Journey - Scotland - Edinburgh Highlands
The Places
Our tour of Scotland takes us from Edinburgh, with its castle, Scott monument and Palace of Holyrood, to the highland and then to The Hebrides, recalling the journey undertaken by the young Mendelssohn.
The Music
In 1829 Mendelssohn visited England and, after the summer season, travelled north to Scotland, accompanied by his friend Karl Klingemann. In Edinburgh he visited the Palace of Holyrood, recalling the tragic story of Mary, Queen of Scots, and the murder there of her secretary David Rizzio. Further north he took the steamer to the island of Staffa, where he saw Fingal's Cave and in spite of sea-sickness immediately sketched the opening theme of his Hebrides Overture. It was not until 1842 that his Scottish Symphony was completed, a work inspired by memories of his visit to Scotland.
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: Dolby Digital / DTS Surround
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Running time: 52 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Messager: Les P'tites Michu / Dumoussaud, Pays de la Loire National Orchestra
Messager was a leading figure in French operetta in the late 1800s and, as a composer of mainly stage works (opéras comiques, opérettes and ballets), is probably best known today for his ballet Les Deux Pigeons. As an admirer of French Romantic music, I am delighted to receive this newly released two CD set of Messager’s Les P'tites Michu (The Little Michus), an operetta I previously knew only by name.
Premièred in November 1897 Les P'tites Michu, an opérette in three acts, quickly became a great success both at home, enjoying one hundred and fifty performances at the Théâtre des Bouffes-Parisiens, and abroad notably being staged in London and on Broadway. Les P'tites Michu had been written in the wake of several embarrassing failures for Messager, particularly his humiliation with Le chevalier d'Harmental at the Opéra-Comique in 1896, where it was pulled after only six performances. As providence would have it, whilst in England Messager received an unsolicited libretto through the post for the opérette Les P'tites Michu sent by renowned librettists Albert Vanloo and Georges Duval. Messager didn’t know that the libretto had already been rejected by three composers, but clearly fully motivated, he completed the score in just three months. The plot briefly concerns the identities of two little girls, one the daughter of Marquis des Ifs and the other a daughter of Michu who runs a cheese shop. Whilst in his care, Michu mixes up the two girls whilst giving them a bath. Years later, on Blanche-Marie’s wedding day, the Marquis notices her resemblance to his late wife and realises that she must be his daughter.
This recording is taken from live performances at Théâtre Graslin, Nantes with stage direction by Rémy Barché. A fine French cast has been assembled, bringing this sun-drenched comedy to life with singing that sparkles from start to finish. My highlight is from Act Two with soprano Anne-Aurore Cochet and mezzo Violette Polchi singing Blanche-Marie’s and Marie-Blanche’s quite delightful duet Ah! Quel malheur, quel malheur (Oh, what a misfortune). From Act One, in the role of shop assistant Aristide, tenor Artavazd Sargsyan copes well with the couplets Blanche-Marie est douce et bonne (Blanche-Marie is gentle and kind). I notice André Noël (1892-1967) a tenor at the Opéra-Comique made a fascinating early recording of this piece on a collection of his operetta arias for Pathé (N° X. 90019 - N 203201 Choudens) which can be viewed on YouTube. Excelling here in the Act Three Romance a dreamy waltz Vois-tu, je m'en veux à moi-même (You see, I blame myself), Anne-Aurore Cochet is in charming voice as she laments her dreary existence and misses her boarding school. Susan Graham on her 2002 Erato album ‘French Operetta Arias’ has championed Blanche-Marie’s Romance which is a real gem. It’s also contained in her 2010 box set ‘The Art of Susan Graham’ (review). Additionally from act three is Blanche-Marie and Gaston’s attractive duet Rassurez-vous monsieur Gaston (Don’t worry, monsieur Gaston) as they capture the innocence of concealing their sorrow from each other. As the hearty army captain, the smoky tones of Philippe Estèphe contrast well with the Anne-Aurore Cochet’s girlish innocence. Directed by choir-master Xavier Ribes, the Chœur d'Angers Nantes Opéra is in fine order, singing with assurance and unity which are especially noticeable in the splendid Halles ensemble Marchandes et Marchands from Act Three. Under the baton of Pierre Dumoussaud, the Orchestre national des Pays de la Loire (using some forty-five players) performs with verve and sparkle.
Sumptuously presented, the two CDs fit inside a 176-page hard-back book which includes essays, a synopsis and French texts together with an English translation placed alongside. A slight grumble concerns the article ‘P'tites Michu, number by number’ where the pieces discussed are not linked to track numbers. Recorded live in May 2018 at Théâtre Graslin, Nantes, the overall sound has a satisfying quality and is well balanced. Not surprisingly, the recording has some minor stage noise and applause has been retained at the conclusion.
Bru Zane’s Opéra français series continues to captivate and with Messager’s opérette Les P'tites Michu grandly maintains its high standards.
– MusicWeb International (Michael Cookson)
Parry: Orchestral & Choral Works / Jarvi, BBC NO of Wales

One of the most important Parry issues for many years, this is a credit to all the performers, not least the warmly committed conductor, Neeme Järvi, drawing the whole ensemble together.
– Gramophone [12/2012]
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A moving tribute to one of Britain great composers.
When I showed this CD to a friend they responded by suggesting that it would be right up my street. Unfortunately, this comment was barbed. ‘My street’ in this case meant ‘over-blown’ ceremonial music of the kind that uncritically lauded Empire, glorified war and insisted that the ‘rich man [was] in his castle, The poor man at his gate’. Before the reader runs off with the idea that I am politically slightly to the right of Sir Oswald Mosley, I wish to make three comments. Firstly, Parry and Elgar were men of their time so their choice of poems to set and ideas to compose were different to someone living in the post-Colonial, ‘liberal’ and cosmopolitan society of the early part of the 21 st century. Secondly, not all ‘ceremonial’ music is bad. For example, while I have never been a fan of Elgar’s The Crown of India, I do love Walton’s coronation marches. By definition, this style of music tends to celebrate the life and times of the Royal Family or matters of ‘state’. However, it need not be ‘tub-thumping’ or ‘jingoistic’. Often it can be reflective and contain profound thoughts on mankind’s adventure. One need only consider the ‘Cortege’ by Cecil Coles - ideal for Remembrance Sunday yet full of the ‘horror of war’.
Thirdly, there is a tendency to present Parry as a caricature of a ‘Tory’ squire who was into all the trappings of the feudal society. Nothing could be further from the truth. This is not the place to analyse the composer’s political or moral views, however it is fair to say that he was liberal - possibly even a ‘radical’. His religious views were typically agnostic in spite of Delius’ suggestion that if he lived long enough he would have set the entire Bible! H.R.H. Charles, Prince of Wales has noted in his introduction to the CD liner-notes that Parry, in spite of his ‘hugely energetic personality’ revealed a ‘nervous, melancholy, even depressive temperament which infuses the inspiring and noble sentiment of much of his music with a darker, complex hue.’
The listener to this CD will be surprised. In spite of the cover photograph of a grand royal procession, much of this music is introverted and deeply moving. Some of it may have been written to celebrate national or royal events - but all of it has a thoughtful disposition. There is nothing here for the ‘jingoist’ expects possibly the Prom favourite Jerusalem. However, this hymn setting has been accepted by people of all political persuasions and none as a great national treasure.
A good place to start is the setting of John O’ Gaunt’s verse England. This song has occasionally been mentioned in the same breath as the well-known Jerusalem yet they could not be more different in their musical nature.
The story goes that after the success of the Blake setting, Gilbert Murray, the classicist and Ernest Walker, the composer, asked Parry to make a setting of John O’ Gaunt’s famous monologue from Act II of Shakespeare’s play Richard II. (This royal throne of Kings, this sceptred island). There is nothing bombastic about this beautiful unison song. If anything it is undemonstrative and reflective, with a greater emphasis being on the final words ‘Grant, Lord, that England … May be renown’d through all recorded ages / For Christian service and true Chivalry’. Jeremy Dibble has noted that England is about more than just flying the flag - ‘its rousing tune expresses a sense of vision, self-sacrifice and hope, typical of Parry’s own outlook.’
Jerusalem is given a largely thoughtful performance here. This song, beloved by the vast majority of the nation, is usually heard in the opulent Elgar orchestration. The original Parry song has slightly fewer grand aspirations. The composer suggested that the first verse ought to be sung by a soprano solo with the second sung by ‘all available voices’. Formerly composed as a ‘choral song’ with only a piano accompaniment, Parry orchestrated it right at the end of his life for a Suffrage Demonstration Concert on 13 March 1918 at the Queen’s Hall. My only complaint is the excessive length of the final word (Land) sung by the choir. This is at variance with my score of the work.
The nation collectively heard the Wedding March from Parry’s incidental music to the Greek comedy, The Birds by Aristophanes at the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge; it was played just before the arrival of Her Majesty the Queen. For Parry enthusiasts this extract had been available on Lyrita featuring Sir Adrian Boult and the London Philharmonic Orchestra. As far as I know, until now there has been no recording of the entire score. The present performing edition has been prepared for performance by Philip Brookes.
The Birds was produced by the Cambridge University Amateur Dramatic Club in November 1893. Jeremy Dibble has suggested that this music is full of ‘humour and light-heartedness’ and notes that the score is ‘rich in artifice and invention’. I enjoyed it. I guess that knowledge of the Aristophanes play may be of some help to listeners but all these numbers stand well on their own account. I was especially attracted to the gentle Entr’acte, the cheeky waltz, and the beautiful Intermezzo. All these display Parry’s skills at musical design and orchestration at their best.
The piece that gave my friend the greatest cause for concern about political correctness was the short ode entitled The Glories of Blood and State. He must have imagined Parry indulging in some idealist ‘Brooke-ian’ ‘pro patria mori’ sentiment. Nothing could be further from the truth. This is an early work dating from 1883, written some three years after the composer broke the mould of dissipation in English music with his Wagnerian cantata Prometheus Unbound. This ground-breaking work probably does not represent the ‘renaissance’ of British music - just the realisation that it was equal to the German hegemony. The present work is a setting of a poem by the English author James Shirley (1596-1666). Charles Lamb summed up this writer’s career with ‘[he] claims a place among the worthies of this period, not so much for any transcendent genius in himself, as that he was the last of a great race, all of whom spoke nearly the same language and had a set of moral feelings and notions in common.’ The funeral dirge from his play ‘The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses’ was regarded as a meditation on the fact that death is a leveller - kings and peasants are subject to the same laws of nature - ‘There is no armour against fate.’ The exposition of the music is excellent. There is a Brahmsian feel to this music that reflects Parry’s love of the Deutsches Requiem: Wagner’s ghost has (almost) been laid to rest. Perhaps anyone still worried about Parry and his ‘tub-thumping’ should meditate on the last line of the poem - ‘Only the actions of the just/Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust’.
Sir Henry Wood wrote in his fascinating My Life of Music (1938) that ‘one work we produced I thought was going to live - Parry’s Magnificat - but it has now dropped out of the concert repertoire. I have never been able to understand why’. It is a sentiment with which I strongly concur: I believe that the Magnificat is a masterpiece. It was composed for the 1897 Three Choirs Festival and was duly performed there on 15 September. It has one primary exemplar: Bach’s Magnificat of 1732-35; however, the listener will feel that much of the strength of this music is similar to the massive contrapuntal constructions of Blest Pair of Sirens which was completed ten years earlier. They may also consider that there are hints of Brahms. The work is conceived in five sections: the first and last being composed for soprano, chorus and orchestra, the second and fourth for soloists alone with the middle section being composed for chorus.
The listener will find this setting extremely satisfying for Parry has managed to balance his forces in a near-perfect manner. The ‘aggressive’ parts of the text are balanced with exquisite introspective moments. Lyrical music is counterpoised with ‘contrapuntal fertility and rich choral textures’. Some of the soprano soloist’s music is reminiscent of Brahms’ German Requiem and certain passages have more of an operatic, rather than a liturgical, mood to them.
It is interesting that Parry drew the text from the Vulgate Latin Bible rather than use an English translation such as the Book of Common Prayer. It would be instructive to know why. After the first performance, Parry dedicated the work to Queen Victoria.
In 1911, Hubert Parry was commissioned to compose a liturgical Te Deum for the Coronation of King George V. This was in addition to the well-known anthem I was Glad. This work displays the ‘pageantry, ceremony and grandeur’ of an important national occasion. This mood was reinforced by the use of the same six trumpets that were required for the anthem. Yet throughout, a more serious note is struck: tenderness and solemnity are never far away. Parry seems to be well-aware of the more profound and numinous qualities of the Coronation Service. He weaves the well-known tunes St Anne and Old 100 th into the texture. This is now a ‘concert’ piece: I do not believe that it could be used in the context of a religious ceremony - no matter how ‘high.’ It is worthy and I find it both exhilarating and moving.
The CD is an ideal production. From the highly imaginative and packed programme eloquently communicated through superb performances. The sound quality is excellent. The liner-notes are exemplary, however that is only to be expected from the champion of Parry and Stanford, Professor Jeremy Dibble of Durham University.
When I look at the catalogue of Parry’s music and encounter works like the great Fourth Symphony, the delightful evocation of childhood in the Shulbrede Tunes and the celebration of the composer’s yacht in the ‘Wanderer’ Fantasia and Fugue for organ, I see a composer, who, far from revelling in any false ‘my country right or wrong’ attitude was a thoughtful man: The Prince of Wales notes that he took ‘a wide interest in politics, the Arts, science and the most current philosophical discussion of his time…’ Parry was a complex character: this complexity is revealed in this CD.
Finally, my friend was wrong. This is not a CD of ‘jingoistic’ music: there is no sense of ‘tub-thumping’ or what current-day political correctness would find abhorrent. It stand as a moving tribute to one of Britain great composers. It is good that we are now beginning to appreciate that fact again.
-- John France , MusicWeb International
Patrick Melrose / Tv O.s.t.
Thielemann Conducts Faust - Liszt, Wagner
THIELEMANN CONDUCTS FAUST
Richard Wagner: A Faust Overture
Franz Liszt: A Faust Symphony, S108/R425
Endrik Wottrich, tenor
Dresden State Opera Chorus
Dresden Staatskapelle
Christian Thielemann, conductor
Recorded live from the Semperoper Dresden, 2011.
Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: German, English, French, Spanish, Korean, Chinese, Japanese
Running time: 90 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
R E V I E W:
LISZT A Faust Symphony. WAGNER A Faust Overture • Christian Thielemann, cond; Endrik Wottrich (ten); Dresden St Op Ch; Staatskapelle Dresden • C MAJOR 707708 (DVD: 90:00) Live: Semperoper, Dresden 02/21–22/2011
Now here’s a good release, entering an uncluttered field with repertoire that coincides neatly with an anniversary and that fits its performers like a glove. Where I recently argued that Christian Thielemann just about makes a (flawed) case for himself in the congested world of Beethoven symphonies, his credentials for Wagner and Liszt are far less controversial. A retro knight of big-boned, smoothly contoured orchestral playing, he is here heard to great effect in repertoire that is shamefully underrepresented. I also cannot fault the pairing of a young Wagner’s aborted attempt at a symphony with Liszt’s epic achievement on the same subject. Before Cosima, what linked Wagner and Liszt were their respective attempts to set Goethe’s Faust to music. Wagner intended this, written during his Paris years, to be merely the first movement of a Faust symphony, before Der fliegende Holländer and his Saxony post got in the way. So it remained an overture, and it was Liszt who would carry on some of Wagner’s initial intentions, such as a second movement based on the character of Gretchen. Liszt himself conducted Wagner’s piece in 1852, but despite a final revision in 1855 (the version given here) and a sketch for Gretchen’s theme, Wagner’s “symphony” remains a tantalizing what-if, giving clearance for the older composer to work on his vast set of Faustian character portraits. As Tobias Niederschlag’s admirable notes point out, Lizst’s late addition of tenor and chorus (always a bit of an afterthought in my view) to his tonal portraits can be seen as a nod to Beethoven’s Ninth, a sign of the massive ambition on display.
Given its fractious birth, Wagner’s A Faust Overture tends, not surprisingly, to be dismissed as a rather nothingy, juvenile work, but Thielemann and the Dresdeners really do make a fine case for it. Despite the full string textures and grandly played climaxes, Thielemann wisely doesn’t linger or pull things about for effect, as he sometimes does, and the Dresdeners’ dark, burnished sound helps underline the familiar traits of mature Wagner, without preventing it from being an intense, nimble account of a work that deserves to be better known. Yes, there are hangovers of Weber in the tuttis, and obvious foreshadows of the Holländer overture, but also there is a germ of Wagner’s later epic arches of texture and melodic development. The dying chords of Tristan und Isolde , for instance, can surely be heard in the finals bars of this piece.
With those mournful broken woodwind phrases in the “Nostalgia” opening, Wagner must have had Liszt’s symphony at the back of his mind during Tristan’s development. Although grotesque humor doesn’t feature in Wagner’s opera, both pieces share that introverted sense of Weltschmerz that naturally brings out the best from Thielemann. Faust’s feverish obsession is brilliantly conveyed in the frenzied string writing, but Thielemann doesn’t let the symphony as a whole become the empty showpiece that some of Liszt’s vast tapestries can become. The second movement (Gretchen) is, likewise, very well controlled, with the love theme played with sincerity, but no less heartfelt than many more drawn-out versions, and with much exquisite solo playing from the orchestra.
I still have the occasional feeling of extreme control-freakery, as on Thielemann’s recent Beethoven, but here his quirks and homogenized sound fit the repertoire brilliantly, and although as typically plush and molded an experience as I had predicted from this team, this DVD confounds a lot of my prejudices about him. Most surprising is how swift Thielemann is, with the Liszt falling roughly between young (Sony audio) and old (Euroarts DVD) Leonard Bernstein in basic length, and similar in scale to Barenboim’s audio version. Likewise I wouldn’t have predicted how well Thielemann creates a sense of fun on the podium; the ironisch comes out well in the opening of the grotesque Mesphisto episode, spritely in tone, in complete contrast to the opening two sections. I would almost say light and fleet-footed, but after some comparison with 1960s Bernstein, or a terrific YouTube clip of Dmitri Mitropoulos rehearsing the same section, Thielemann cannot yield all of his steeliness. Choral singing is excellent, although I can think of more alluring sounds than the rather pinched, clunky tones of tenor Endrik Wottrich, in rather tense form here. DVD competition is scarce, but Kenneth Riegel on Leonard Bernstein’s 1976 Boston DVD is better. For true vocal allure, if weird German, Plácido Domingo on Barenboim’s Warner CD is the obvious choice.
I do wish concert DVDs would come with the option of having an mp3 of the audio only. I, for one, would love the Wagner overture on my iPod. But C Major’s presentation is still very fine, with good booklet notes and logical DVD menuing. Pity that there are no extras (Thielemann’s Beethoven symphonies on the same label came with a 60-minute discussion of each work), but camerawork is unobtrusive and the sound is very clear and balanced, possibly at times allowing that Dresden acoustic to give quieter moments a rather cold demeanor. Perhaps, because of that last point, I find myself preferring the Bernstein DVD, boisterous and all-embracing despite much slower tempi throughout. But it is not a clear victory, especially considering modern picture, sound, and so fine a Faust Overture performance as a filler. So, yes, unlikely readers who only want one version: Get the Thielemann.
FANFARE: Barnaby Rayfield
Shostakovich: Piano Sonata No 1, 24 Preludes / Scherbakov
My criticism concerns Scherbakov's arch rubato within certain lyrical pieces. His little holdbacks and gratuitous ritards in No. 8, for example, undermine the effect of the composer's indicated ritards, which the pianist barely observes anyway. And a few exposed wrong notes easily could have been corrected (the E-flat in No. 5, measure 14). Such blemishes, however, do not detract from Scherbakov's compelling pianism.
All the virtues Scherbakov brings to the Preludes equally apply to the composer's gnarly Aphorisms cycle and youthful Three Fantastic Dances. The pianist also sails through the First Sonata's unrelenting polytextural thickets and age-of-steel dissonances with maximum power and minimum struggle. Eleanor Thomason's superb engineering yields one of the finest sounding solo piano discs Naxos has produced.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Schubert: Sonata in B flat Major D 960; Drei Klavierstucke D 946 / Ayako Ito
Ayako Ito: “Nowadays, in concert halls, we generally see a single type of piano that normally has 88 keys and is normally black. Things were quite different in the Vienna of the 19th century: the piano had fewer keys, was decorated with wooden inlay and had no steel subframe. All this made them sound quite different. Conrad Graf was one of the finest builders of pianofortes in Vienna in the period from 1820-40. And Franz Schubert was living in the same city.We can revive a rich, warm, singing, powerful and even orchestral sound on Graf's pianofortes. His pianos feature the Viennese action or “Prellzungenmechanik”, with their hammers built up from many layers of leather. These hammers allow the performer to impart subtle nuances and dynamic contrasts. Of course, the pianos are straight-strung. The player can alter the tonal color using four pedals, with one of the pedals specific to the pianoforte being the moderator. When the moderator pedal is depressed, a strip of cashmere slips between the hammers and the strings. Christopher Clarke (1947) built the instrument used for this recording in 2000, as a facsimile of Conrad Graf's pianoforte no. 995. Clarke's pianoforte always inspires me. I find it a miraculous instrument. The utter precision of the mechanism lets us explore the finest gradations and introduce the most subtle nuances – singing, speaking or whispering. It is a mechanism that demands a high technical mastery from the player.”
Review
Ayako Ito approaches the masterpiece D960 with romantic fervour, trusting the less powerful, more refined, tone of the fortepiano will provide authentic period sound compensation. Her opening theme isn’t as soft as pp, but smoother and more swinging than the Molto moderato marking suggests. The deep bass disturbance at the end of its first full statement (tr. 1, 0:24) is more threatening than the pp marking. The clarity of Ito’s running quavers in the ‘tenor’ part enhances the tense atmosphere, yet the third part of the first theme (0:58), more pleading, moves through quiet insistence. The second theme (2:06), is in the tenor part against the ‘soprano’ descant, with Ito’s sensitive balance the latter’s creaminess like a loving companion. The dancing three-quaver groups in triplets which eventually result skip buoyantly. The phrase of resolution terminating these (4:04) deserves more breadth, but the extraordinary exposition ‘first time’ codetta (4:55), like hobgoblins arriving, Ito makes boldly gawky.
In the development (10:19) Ito prefers cool examination rather than shock, its ff climax of the dancing triplets underplayed (11:27). But she builds the tension and dynamic well to the fruition of the third theme (12:18), the most tender and memorable. Ito makes the second theme recap (16:08) more delicate and sensitive. Her coda (19:22) is tranquil yet flowing.
The opening of the slow movement juxtaposes a left-hand four note rising figure and melancholic right-hand melody. Ito makes the first and final notes of the left-hand figure very clear as bell peals three octaves apart. In this C sharp minor funeral Ito is sorrowful yet smoothly dignified, her equipoise between the hands arguably overmuch easing the pain of bereavement. The central section in A major (tr. 2, 2:59) remembers the loved one and clarifies a relationship, its theme beginning in rich ‘baritone’ register, the soprano repeat (3:26) adding varied semiquaver runs. From Ito it feels like both parties confirm shared sadness. At the return to the opening (5:36) the left-hand has an additional four-note motif, three semiquavers and a quaver, for me like funeral carriage wheels biting into the road. Ito makes it a clear, inescapable presence. The decrescendo after the melody’s climax finds the left-hand unheeding the pathos of the melody briefly in C major (6:30); yet after the next melodic climax comes a blessing, the coda (7:55) easing calmly into C sharp major.
Ito’s finale’s rondo theme begins a bit stiff in marking out the rhythm; her second strain (tr. 4, 0:21) is catchier and first episode (1:24) blends calm tone with confident movement, the relationship between melody and accompaniment grippingly maintained, until a sudden silence and ff shock (2:36) of catastrophe, especially when the melodic outburst goes into descant register.
Best of D946, Three piano pieces, is for me the first. It’s in E flat minor with urgent first strain to its right-hand cyclical theme. The second (tr. 5, 0:15) adds more rhythm, then a melody picked out from the first notes of the three-quaver groupings (0:19). The return of the first strain is in E flat major (0:50), the touch more rhythm a vehicle for Ito screaming a scrunched appoggiatura at the fz climax. The central section second theme (2:54) is in B major, festooned with turns and phrase-ending arpeggios, Ito revealing it as leisurely and affectionate. Its second strain (4:13) adds glissando-like up-and-down [32nd notes], the return of the first more luxurious in chording and close more rhetorical. To this vibrant, varied piece Ito brings considerable gusto.
--MusicWeb International (Michael Greenhalgh)
Beethoven: Piano Sonatas No 30, 31, 32 / Mari Kodama
BEETHOVEN Piano Sonatas: Nos. 30–32 • Mari Kodama (pn) • PENTATONE 5186389 (63:21)
I haven’t been following Mari Kodama’s Beethoven piano sonata cycle—in fact, this is the first disc in the series I’ve heard—but for those who have, this is her seventh installment; all previous ones have been peer reviewed in past issues. I note that colleague Lynn René Bayley’s review of this latest addition to Kodama’s now over two-thirds completed cycle is scheduled to appear in Fanfare 35:6, but since that issue hasn’t been published yet as I write this, I can’t know what Bayley had to say. Not that it matters, of course, since we contributors work independently of each other and often reach quite different conclusions.
For those who have taken note of Kodama’s Beethoven sonata survey, FYI, all but nine of the sonatas have been released. Still to appear are Nos. 11–13, 15, 20, 22, and 27–29. Having never heard Kodama in anything before, I approached her Beethoven as a tabula rasa and I must admit to being very favorably impressed. There’s clarity to her voicing and a lyrical spontaneity to her readings, especially in the opening movements of the E-Major and A?-Major sonatas (Nos. 30 and 31) that catch just the right tone of Beethoven’s poeticized utopian vision.
As regular readers will know, the concluding “Gesangvoll” movement of the E-Major Sonata holds special resonance for me, and it’s usually the touchstone by which I embrace or reject a performance. Kodama does not disappoint. Her broad, stately, quiet, and deeply contemplative statement of the opening theme communicates, as it should, a sense of reverential mystery. Some listeners may perceive Kodama’s tempo as being a bit slow, but it’s more of a perception than reality. She takes 13:12 for the movement compared to Craig Sheppard’s 12:50 and Maurizio Pollini’s 12:37, not that big a difference in a movement of this length. If you want to know what slow really is, try Andrew Rangell at 15:22. I think the perception of Kodama’s capaciousness is more the result of her approach to phrasing than it is to underlying tempo. She has a way of ever-so-slightly hesitating on the brink of cadential resolutions that, for me, gives the music its special otherworldly quality.
When it comes to the Sturm und Drang of the C-Minor Sonata’s first movement, Kodama’s fingers prove to be as nimble as anyone else’s, but I’m not sure she invests the music with the same degree of vehemence and venomous bite as do some others, for example Freddy Kempf, who attacks the Allegro at a faster tempo and with tremendous ferocity in his BIS recording. What worked superbly well for Kodama in the “Gesangvoll” movement of the Sonata No. 30 doesn’t necessarily work to her advantage in the Sonata No. 32. Some of her phrasing choices strike me as slightly distorting of Beethoven’s rhythmic patterns and disrupting to the headlong rush. It’s an interpretive issue, not a technical one.
Overall, I’d rate Kodama’s Beethoven very highly, at least as much as I’ve heard of it, which, so far, is just this one disc. As for the recording, PentaTone’s team of Dutch engineers has done a bang-up job of capturing Kodama’s Steinway D-274 in ringing tone and solid sound. All modern piano recordings should sound this good. If you’ve been collecting Kodama’s Beethoven cycle, there’s no reason to stop now. If you haven’t been collecting it, the only reason I can think of to not start with this latest release is that if you’re like me you prefer to begin at the beginning. But then that could be your cue to go out and acquire all seven discs released so far.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Friml, Stothart: Rose-Marie / Raines, Catholic University of America A Cappella Choir
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Harbinger Records is proud to present its second partnership with the Smithsonian: the first release in any format of their 1981 production of the classic operetta Rose-Marie (1924), starring Broadway’s Ron Raines. It is the only complete recording of the score, which includes lyrics by the 29-year-old Oscar Hammerstein, more than 20 years before he began his collaboration with Richard Rodgers. Rose-Marie was the first American musical with a Canadian locale—the Canadian Rockies, to be precise—and includes such evergreens at “Indian Love Call” (“When I’m calling you, ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo”), “Pretty Things,” “Only a Kiss” and the stirring title song. Broadway audiences flocked to Rose-Marie for 557 performances, making it the fourth longest-running musical of the 1920s. A must for collectors and all fans of both the American musical and classical music, Rose-Marie has been packaged in a deluxe set with historic production photos and notes by two longtime Harbinger colleagues: co-producer Dwight Blocker Bowers, curator emeritus of the Smithsonian, and Ted Chapin, recently retired president of the Rodgers and Hammerstein Organization. Says Bowers: “It’s not an overstatement to claim that Rose-Marie was the first American musical theater work to achieve wide international success. In his review of the original production, Arthur Hornblow in Theatre magazine praised it for being ‘head, shoulders and waist above the customary dribble.’ When the Smithsonian’s recordings program was suspended, the unreleased Rose-Marie was a casualty, and I was given the chance to rescue the master tapes. Hence the collaboration with Harbinger, whose slogan is apt: Albums for the discerning collector.” |