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Orff: Ein Sommernachtstraum / Von Gehren, Andechser Orff-Akademie Des Munchner RO
CPO · Jul 2011CD$36.99 -
Elgar: Enigma Variations, In The South, Serenade / Andrew Davis
Signum Classics · Jan 2009CD$19.99 -
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Torroba: Luisa Fernanda / Domingo, Herrera, Lopez-Cobos, Madrid Teatro Real [Blu-ray]
Opus Arte · Apr 2009Blu-Ray$42.99 -
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Paulus: Three Places of Enlightenment; Veil of Tears; Grand Concerto for Organ and Orchestra
Naxos · Oct 2014CD$19.99
TIME OUTTAKES
Billie's Bounce
Sibelius Edition Vol 7 - Songs
SIBELIUS Songs (complete) • Helena Juntunen (sop); Anne Sofie von Otter (mez); Monica Groop (mez); Dan Karlström (ten); Gabriel Suovanen (bar); Jorma Hynninen (bar); Bengt Forsberg (pn); Love Derwinger (pn); Folke Gräsbeck (pn) • BIS 1918 (5 CDs: 356:21 Text and Translation)
The foldout box housing this set bears the block letter “I” on its spine, signifying the exact midpoint of BIS’s Sibelius Edition; this is Volume 7, and the arrayed volumes, which also continue to unfold the gorgeous nature photo shown as a wrap-around on each box, now spell out “JEAN SI” on the shelf. As we have come to expect from the Edition, this volume of songs with piano can almost be described as “more than complete.” Sibelius published about 100 songs altogether: 84 in 16 opus-numbered groups, and another 16 or so without opus number. In addition, BIS also includes Sibelius’s own arrangements for voice and piano of a number of works originally written for voice and orchestra, as well as fragments of early songs not completed, unpublished songs recently discovered, and, as an Appendix to the volume (disc 5), alternative or preliminary versions of over a dozen others. The core of the collection consists of the contents of three previously issued BIS CDs: BIS 457 and 757, with von Otter and Forsberg, recorded in 1989 and 1994–95; and, BIS 657, with Groop and Derwinger, recorded in 1994. Almost all of the remaining items were recorded in 2008, and are making their first appearance here.
The great majority of Sibelius’s songs are set to Swedish poems; not only did Sweden have a much greater literary tradition than Finland did, but Swedish was also the composer’s first language. Sibelius’s favorite poet, judging by his choice of texts, was Johan Ludvig Runeberg, a nature poet whom Barnett calls “Finland’s national poet”; about a quarter of the songs are Runeberg settings. Sibelius did not begin writing songs until 1887 or 1888, toward the end of his student years, so this volume does not include the large number of student works and exercises found in the Chamber Music, Piano Music, and Violin and Piano volumes (Vols. 2, 4, and 6, respectively). He tended to write songs sporadically in groups through much of his career: after the initial burst of 1888–92, periods of activity in song composition included the years around the turn of the century, when Sibelius produced the last few of the Seven Songs, op. 17, and all of opp. 36–38, about 20 songs in all, including most of his best-known; and, the years 1908–11, the time of the Fourth Symphony, and a period in which Sibelius endured repeated surgeries resulting from an incorrect diagnosis of throat cancer. The last major group of songs comes from the World War I years, when he and his family faced great financial difficulties and of necessity he wrote mostly miniatures. Among these are the four groups of six songs each, opp. 72 (the first two of which are lost), 86, 88, and 90, his last bearing an opus number.
In all, von Otter sings about half the songs, including the two sets of Runeberg songs, opp. 13 and 90, that form bookends of Sibelius’s “official” song canon. Her warm, rich mezzo suits well many of the “Romantic” songs of opp. 17, 36, and 37, but she is also appropriately animated in the lighter, salonish German songs of op. 50, and in complete control in the op. 3 Arioso , a work of 1911 that Sibelius had to pass off as an early composition when he offered it to a local publisher instead of Breitkopf und Härtel, his usual publisher. BIS gives no word on why von Otter was not entrusted with the remaining items.
Groop, also a mezzo, has a less seductive sound than von Otter; then again, she is given relatively less rewarding repertoire: the Five Christmas Songs , op. 1 (again a misleading opus number), the bleak op. 57 songs of 1909, the extant four from op. 72—a polyglot mixture of the usual Swedish with one Finnish and one German setting—and, probably the finest of the batch, the six songs of op. 86. Most of these are rarely performed, and while I prefer von Otter’s singing, Groop’s performances are certainly more than adequate.
The two singers recently recorded in the remaining sets are a treat. Soprano Juntunen expresses a wide range of moods in the demanding Five Songs , op. 38, the darkest and most ambitious of the turn-of-the-century songs; she also impressively reprises her Volume 1 performance of Luonnotar in Sibelius’s own voice-and-piano arrangement. She shares with baritone Suovanen the Two Songs , op. 35, of 1908, perhaps the most musically radical of Sibelius’s works in this format. Suovanen sings both versions of the two songs from 12th Night , op. 60, the original with guitar and Sibelius’s arrangement with piano, and is most impressive in the Eight Songs , op. 61, of 1910. These are small tone-pictures with elaborate piano parts that do much to set the mostly dark moods; Suovanen easily manages the songs’ difficult tessitura, sometimes bringing to mind the young Fischer-Dieskau. He is also brilliant in Sibelius’s voice-piano version of The Rapids-Rider’s Brides . BIS has introduced other terrific new baritones, notably Tommi Hakala, but Suovanen is definitely one to watch! Tenor Karlström makes only three brief appearances, but acquits himself well; Hynninen, a veteran of the Edition, makes a cameo appearance in the preliminary versions of three of the op. 13 songs.
There should have been an elephant in the room, in the person of Tom Krause, whose complete set of the “canonical” Sibelius songs was issued on a five-LP set by Argo in the early 1980s, and appeared again on Decca CDs in 2004. To my shock, I found that this set is no longer available. Krause, whose musicianship had grown immeasurably since his 1963 single disc of Sibelius songs, would be a formidable rival in a number of these songs, several of which are really better suited to male voice because of the texts; and, the clearly “female” songs in the set were done by the imposing team of Elisabeth Söderström and Vladimir Ashkenazy. If you have, or can find, the Decca, odds are that, like me, you will prefer Krause in some items and von Otter in others.
As in previous volumes, BIS gives an insightful essay by Barnett (in five languages); texts in the original language and English translation; and, the five discs for the price of three. Owners of the Decca set may still want this if they’re really serious about Sibelius’s songs; both sets offer many beauties and many insightful performances. Hard-core Sibelians will want this for the material that is not included in the earlier set—mostly because the manuscripts had not yet come to light. Collectors who have been acquiring volumes of The Sibelius Edition all along need no further urging at this stage.
FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan
Vision Bach, Vol. 7
Film Music Classics - Steiner: Music For The Films
This is another emigrant from Marco Polo [8.570184] and joins the Naxos Film Music Classics series, a burgeoning one that reflects well on the company’s steady devotion to the art on disc. The music is by Max Steiner and was written for two Bette Davis vehicles, All This, and Heaven Too and the post-War A Stolen Life.
One thing that distinguishes the series, apart from the purely musical values embodied by the Moscow Symphony’s performance under the experienced John Morgan, is the nature and quality of the supporting notes; you won’t necessarily want to plough through the purely theatrical-dramatic ramifications, nor – if you’re not much of a cineaste – will you much be exercised by what Bette Davis thought, or didn’t think about her roles in these films; but it’s good to know that these details are here.
All This, and Heaven Too has a hundred minutes of music, which is here condensed to under half that length by means of eliminating repetition and such like. The orchestration is by Hugo Friedhofer, whom Steiner held in the highest professional esteem for his work – and no wonder. The result is a kind of through-composed Wagnerian approach, rich, vibrant, exciting and fully up to the expected Steiner Standard.
There are twelve cuts and some run scenes together. The Carriage Ride scene, for instance, lasts a mere 1:32 whilst track eight holds All Hallows Eve, the Lotis Song, Springtime and the Carousel and consequently lasts 5:42. The Duke’s Dying and finale lasts an even longer 7:28. In other words there is plenty of variety both musical and in terms of cutting.
That Carriage Ride is written in Steiner’s best light and airy style whereas A Night To Remember for Louise is full of rich, verdant and gorgeous lyricism. A feature of the writing is the opposition between the open-hearted lyricism of the love music and the more eerie, malevolent writing; for such things Steiner reserves percussion and here we find him using two pianos and celesta and more besides. Romance and portent hover over the final scene before the End Cast – always a good feature of the series in presenting an "authentic" listening experience.
The companion work is a more sparsely and simply orchestrated affair lasting twenty-six minutes in this reconstruction. Best to pass over the note’s reference to a "sea chanty" and better to concentrate on the precision of the writing and its effective realisation. A Stolen Life has a central storm scene which is the opposite of grandiose in its orchestration – instead the clever use of the piano effectively evokes the hubbub without undue exaggeration. There are some splendid little dance moments and some cod Nauticalia that amuses.
Standards are strongly maintained in this release – giving a budget price injection to a notably well curated series.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
Orff: Ein Sommernachtstraum / Von Gehren, Andechser Orff-Akademie Des Munchner RO
ORFF Ein Sommernachtstraum • Christian von Gehren, cond; actors; Andechs Fest Ch; Munich Youth O; Munich Radio O Andechs ORFF Academy • CPO 777 657 (146:09) Live: Andechs 7/28–30/2010
Carl Orff’s incidental music for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream grew out of the desire of the National Socialists—generally, but here specifically Frankfurt’s anti-Semitic Lord Mayor Friedrich Krebs—to produce an appropriately Aryan accompaniment to the play as replacement for the now inconveniently “Jewish” musical additions of Felix Mendelssohn. Orff, even as his scenic cantata Carmina burana was gaining popular acclaim in the new Germany, was concerned with his politically dubious reputation as a modernist and consorter with leftists during the Weimar years. So he took the commission despite warnings from his pragmatic publisher that he would never be able to “dispatch Mendelssohn.” In fairness, his interest in the Elizabethan comedy was real; he had been working on such incidental music since 1917. No doubt he also found the sizable advance attractive. But what had been politically expedient in 1938—he prospered during the Third Reich—was to haunt him after the war, however facile his explanations, and at the least diminishes any pleasure one might have in hearing what he has to offer.
Or maybe not. The audience certainly seems to enjoy this production from the 2010 Orff in Andechs Festival. It will be rougher going for anyone lacking fluent German. Though the story is well known, and the alert listener will be able to figure out what is happening some of the time, there is no text, translation, or synopsis, a serious failing shared with cpo’s other recording from this festival, the Orff/Monteverdi Orpheus . My admiration goes out to anyone who, textless, can happily attend for more than two hours and 20 minutes to heavily edited Shakespeare in German, with attractively dreamlike but inconsequential and repetitive music cues that cannot even be appreciated in context of the words they are to amplify.
Cynicism aside, one is left wondering what Orff did to earn his substantial commission. Many of the handful of independent pieces are adaptations of other compositions: The prelude is from Carmina burana (“Si puer cum puellula”) transformed into a fanfare, used again in full as a replacement for the wedding march. The Rustics are introduced (in this version of 1964) with music from the 1943 fairy tale opera Die Kluge, which, in this context, jars with its banality. Annotator Thomas Rösch suggests other sources: Carmina burana again (“Chramer, gip die varwe mir”) for Titania’s lullaby, and an allusion to the act II duet for Octavian and Sophie from Der Rosenkavalier for the moonrise scene. I suppose one could make a game out of identifying the remaining borrowed themes, but I’ll leave that to others.
There are magical moments; the playing of the trumpet to the moon has the same charm as the ending of Der Mond , the prelude to the ninth scene in Theseus’ palace recalls moments of repose in the famous cantata, and the wonderful midnight melodrama (though I would have wanted Puck’s speeches done less malevolently) and finale (name that source!) provide a fitting end. Would that it all had been so engaging. The youth orchestras, and the chorus in its brief outings, are able; the recording clear for those for whom German is not an obstacle. The birds chirping in the forest are a nice touch. In any case, though my curiosity has been only partly satisfied, at least now, thanks to cpo, the historical footnote is made tangible. You might want to check the samples online before buying. And find a translation.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
Elgar: Enigma Variations, In The South, Serenade / Andrew Davis
There’s really not much to say about this one. Sir Andrew Davis in an all-Elgar programme ought to be a safe pair of hands, and so it turns out, and more besides.
The programme opens with the Enigma Variations, the phrasing of the theme as loving as one has ever heard it. The end of the first variation, C.A.E., depicting the composer’s wife, may be a little too drawn out for some tastes, but Elgar often expressed his affection for her in language at least as sweetly sentimental as this. The showy variations are splendid, but the more intimate ones are even more successful, and one comes away, perhaps more than in many performances, with the idea that some of Elgar’s friends were a melancholy lot. The cellist, Basil Nevinson, in a highly expressive reading, has rarely sounded as sad as he does here. The solo part is beautifully played, and this seems the moment to praise the outstanding orchestral playing throughout the disc, and the brilliantly characterful solo playing in particular. The Enigma Variations has been recorded many, many times, and each listener will have a favourite. I am very attached to Barbirolli in this work, though I sometimes wonder if this is not as much for sentimental reasons as for musical ones. The present performance is as fine as any I have heard, and I don’t think anyone who acquires it will be less than delighted. The recording is particularly detailed, bringing out a few points of orchestration I had never heard before, though you have to turn up the volume a fair bit to get enough punch in the louder passages, which means that the softer ones lose a little of their intimacy.
The performance of In the South is, if anything, even finer. The opening is surely the most exuberant music Elgar ever composed, and this comes over wonderfully well in this performance. Once again the orchestra is in inspired form, and this extends to the gentler, more atmospheric passages too. The work, always a winner in the concert hall, is nonetheless not one of the composer’s more coherent creations from a formal point of view, but Sir Andrew’s subtle control of tempo between the different sections disguises that very successfully. There are passages in the work where the composer runs the risk of overstepping the boundaries of taste, too, and it is a mark of the conductor’s skill that they are totally convincing. I’m thinking in particular of the passage based on hammered, repeated falling fifths (beginning at 7:12) where the listener is not sure whether Sir Andrew is moving the music on or not, only that the pulse never drags, successfully avoiding any suggestion of bombast. It’s a very fine performance and, like the Enigma, is greeted with enthusiastic applause.
This performance of the adorable Serenade will not appeal to those who want to indulge themselves, but is likely to please those who feel that Elgar knew what he wanted as regards tempo. Even so, the first and last movements here, amongst the briskest performances I know, still fall short of Elgar’s markings which do seem very fast indeed. The music is gracefully phrased, skipping rather than lilting, and is full of affection despite the conductor’s unwillingness to linger. The central slow movement, at a similarly flowing tempo, is very moving, wistful and passionate by turns, just as it should be.
The name “Philhamonia Orchestra” - albeit in trendy all lower case fashion - is given greater prominence on this disc than “Signum”, and the back cover of the booklet carries information about other Philharmonia performances on the same label. As a collaborative effort it can only be welcomed, especially at mid-price. There are very readable and informative notes by M. Ross. Newcomers to Elgar and seasoned listeners hoping for vital and individual readings of these particular works need not hesitate.
-- William Hedley, MusicWeb International
Vaughan Williams: The Wasps / Goodman, Elder, Et Al
The narration explodes onto the scene with a strangulated scream of ‘Bastard!’ from the rough trade of Henry Goodman doing his best Ray Winstone act. Some flavour of the narration and the singing is in tr. 5 in CD1 where the tenors sing: ‘Could you not find any clean underwear?’ The whole effect is of one of those de luxe BBC Radio productions with full orchestral apparatus as in Ibsen’s Peer Gynt, Brecht’s Schweik in World War Two and in Flecker’s Hassan. The music plays over the snores, moans, speaking, salt and spleen of narrator Goodman. The overture starts to mean more when one hears the buzzing main theme sung by the chorus in ‘When we buzz’. The Hallé Chorus are in sterling voice singing like a phalanx of football thugs at one moment and classically lightly English at another (CD1 tr. 11 1:26).
CD2 includes Acts II and III. It launches with a delicate, tip-toe night march purged of all absurd overtones - sheerly delightful writing (Entr’Acte). This continues but with the absurdist gearbox fully engaged in The March Past of the Witnesses. This is RVW the far-seeing anticipating Prokofiev which he does again at 5:10 in tr. 15 where rather than Love for Three Oranges it is the Classical Symphony that is echoed/predicted. The Chorus Parabasis (CD2 tr. 7) recalls the mellifluous lilt of Serenade to Music and the writing of Vaughan Williams’ teacher Ravel. Back to spleen and bawdiness again in Pountney’s words for Melodrama (tr. 15): "Out of my way, you bunch of faggots, you pussy-footing plonkers ..." And there’s more, dear reader. This is not for the genteel auntie. Do bear in mind that here in the sung and spoken text you catch something of the football terraces and of punk. This is RVW red in tooth and claw. Then again other sections such as the flute and harp troubadourisms of Chorus and Dance (tr. 15 at 00:55) recall the writing in Sir John in Love. At the end where Procleon snores the effect predicts the somnolent Sir John Falstaff. It is equally Falstaffian - but in a different way - when he half wakes and mutters with drooling relish: "Show your daddy your dainty tussies and set them all in motion." It is a multi-faceted score - frankly fascinating.
Vaughan Williams re-scored parts of the music for the well known five movement orchestral suite. It is that suite and the overture by which most listeners will know some of this music. There is no competition for this set.
The set includes the full score of 80 minutes and incorporated dialogue of circa 25 minutes. The documentation is non-pareil with Michael Kennedy’s essay, David Pountney’s preface, full texts in English only, artist profiles and a listing of all personnel in the orchestra.
If you are interested, the full study score can be obtained from Faber Music. This is based on the editorial work of Igor Kennaway who back in the early 1990s conducted one of the best ever productions of RVW’s ‘morality’ Pilgrim’s Progress.
Some may find this an unnerving experience but it works superbly well provided you are ready for the salty dialogue. It’s a small price to pay for the fascination and delight of hearing so much familiar and unfamiliar Vaughan Williams.
- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International
Torroba: Luisa Fernanda / Domingo, Herrera, Lopez-Cobos, Madrid Teatro Real [Blu-ray]
MORENO TORROBA Luisa Fernanda & • Jesús López-Cobos, cond; Nancy Herrera ( Luisa Fernanda ); Mariola Cantarero ( Duchess Carolina ); José Bros ( Javier Moreno ); Plácido Domingo ( Vidal Hernando ); Raquel Pierotti ( Mariana ); Teatro Real O & Ch • BBC/OPUS ARTE 969 (Blu-ray: 132:00) Live: Madrid 7/14,16/2006
& Interviews with Domingo, Sagi, and López-Cobos; illustrated synopsis; cast gallery
Alan Swanson covered the earlier DVD release of this production in Fanfare 31:2; hie thee to our online archive for details. This is a highly engaging work from 1932 about a love triangle during an anti-royalist uprising in 19th-century Spain; the musical style is Spanish Puccini with even catchier tunes (by which I mean the melodies are built from short, memorable phrases rather than long operatic lines). You need only see and hear Nancy Herrera for a few seconds to think, “What a perfect Carmen she’d be.” Indeed, she has sung that role many times. Here, she’s not a dangerous Gypsy vamp but an ordinary middle-class woman torn between two lovers: a brash, womanizing, ambitious royalist and military man (sung ringingly by José Bros) and an earnest and stable country gentleman who falls in with the rebels (the superb Plácido Domingo, venturing into high baritone territory). In every respect—composition, singing, orchestral management by Jesús López-Cobos, stage direction, and set design by Emilio Sagi, everything—the production is a delight.
The high-definition video format is perfect for keeping the deep blacks and bright whites in balance, never allowing the light colors to flare or bloom or the dark patches to turn the overall picture murky. As usual with Opus Arte, the audio options are limited to stereo and 5.0 PCM. Extras include a narrated synopsis, and good interviews with Domingo and the stage director and conductor. This is an endearing work, lovingly presented.
FANFARE: James Reel
Vidal Hernando – Plácido Domingo
Luisa Fernanda – Nancy Herrera
Javier Moreno – José Bros
Duchess Carolina – Mariola Cantarero
Mariana – Raquel Pierotti
Aníbal – Javier Ferrer
Rosita – Sabina Puértolas
Don Florito Fernández – José Antonio Ferrer
Don Luís Nogales – Federico Gallar
Bizco Porras – David Rubiera
Emilio Sagi, Stage Director
Recorded live at the Teatro Real, Madrid in July 2006
Bonus:
- Interviews with Plácido Domingo, Emilio Sagi and Jesús López Cobos
- Illustrated Synopsis / Cast Gallery
Region code: 0 (All Regions)
Picture: 16:9; 1080i
Sound: PCM 2.0 and 5.1
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish, Italian
Schubert: Symphonies Nos. 3 & 7 / Edusei, Munich Symphony
Bruckner: Symphony No 7 / Tennstedt, Boston Symphony Orchestra
(1885 version, ed. L. Nowak)
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Klaus Tennstedt, conductor
Recorded live from the Symphony Hall, Boston, 5 November 1977
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: Enhanced Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Booklet notes: English, French, German
Running time: 66 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
R E V I E W:
A top-quality performance of Bruckner’s Seventh under a great conductor.
The welcome expansion of Klaus Tennstedt’s recorded legacy through the issue of live performances continues with this reading of Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony from Boston. This was a work that Tennstedt did not take into the recording studios though there is another live account, this time on CD, on the LPO Live label (LPO0030). That issue preserves a 1984 performance but I have not heard it.
It was with the Boston Symphony Orchestra that Tennstedt made his US debut in 1974, when one of the programmes he offered consisted of Bruckner’s Eighth Symphony. By all accounts that performance had the critics in raptures. It appears from the booklet note that when Tennstedt gave three performances of the Seventh three years later the critics, who attended the first of the performances, were a little less impressed, praising the conductor’s interpretation but finding fault with some of the playing; it was suggested that perhaps the performance was under-rehearsed. By the time the third performance came round – the one preserved here – it would seem that these little difficulties had been ironed out. There are one or two very minor slips but the overall standard of playing is extremely high and one has the definite impression that conductor and players are as one.
Oddly, the image on the cover of this CD is not taken from the performance we see. For this Boston concert Tennstedt eschewed a score and therefore had no need to wear spectacles. In fact the Tennstedt we see in this film is quite youthful-looking. The recording is presented in “Enhanced Mono” – I’m unsure what that means but the sound is perfectly satisfactory – so we don’t quite get the benefit of Tennstedt’s layout of the string section: the violins are massed on his left but the violas are to his right – where many conductors place the cellos – and the Boston cello section is seated to the right hand of the violas.
The reading is a very fine one. Tennstedt moulds the long, expansive cello melody at the start of the first movement with great care and evident feeling. As the movement unfolds he takes the second subject quite swiftly, though he’s not too hasty. This performance is one of those that remind us that Bruckner was a musical descendant of Schubert – and Tennstedt was a fine exponent of Schubert’s Ninth. The listener is left in no doubt that Tennstedt has the measure of the span and structure of this movement. That’s even more the case with his account of the solemn Adagio. This is a noble, burnished reading and though Tennstedt maintains a good objective stance there’s no doubt that he feels every phrase. He shapes the music splendidly and the Boston players respond to him with playing of distinction. The strings are wonderfully rich in tone, with just the right amount of weight, while the brass are sonorous. This is one of those performances where everything just feels right – and inevitable. The cymbal and triangle are included at the main climax.
Tennstedt ensures that the rhythms of the scherzo have real lift and spring while the lyrical trio is affectionately phrased. The finale is completely successful. Tennstedt mixes energy with expansive phrasing and the brass-dominated episodes are delivered with due majesty.
Tennstedt’s rendition of this symphony is deeply satisfying and it’s marvellous to have an example of him at work with one of the finest orchestras in the USA. We’re told that he worked regularly with the BSO until 1987 so I hope very much that ICA may be able to license more material, either audio or visual, from the orchestra’s archives. I found it fascinating to look at the BSO of thirty-five years ago and I noted with some surprise how few female musicians there were on the stage – possibly eight at most, including the orchestra’s celebrated principal flautist, Doriot Anthony Dwyer. Furthermore, at that time there don’t seem to have been too many young players in the BSO’s ranks. I bet things have changed quite a lot in the intervening period. The thing that really matters is that the Boston Symphony of 1977 vintage was a fine, seasoned ensemble and it’s a joy to hear them play under this great conductor.
The visual presentation is reliable and gives a good representation of the concert. One minor irritant, I found, was the director’s occasional propensity for split-screen shots, showing us, for example, the principal oboist in one half of the screen and the principal clarinettist in the other. Happily, this doesn’t occur too often and it may not bother other viewers. The key thing is that if you invest in this DVD you’ll acquire a top-quality performance of Bruckner’s Seventh under a great conductor.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Haydn: Keyboard Concertos / Müller-brühl, Hoeren, Haugsand
HAYDN Organ Concertos: in C, Hob XVIII:1,8,10. Harpsichord Concertos: in C, Hob XVIII:5; in F, Hob XVIII:7 • Helmut Müller-Brühl, cond; Harald Hoeren (org); Ketil Gaugsand (hpd); Cologne CO • NAXOS 8.570486 (72:46)
These early concertos—from the 1750s, although some were revised in the 1760s—were written to be played by either organ or harpsichord, which is why this disc is entitled “Keyboard Concertos.” In Brilliant Classics’s recent 150-CD “Haydn Edition,” all five of these works were played on an organ. The music is conventional, having elements both Baroque and rococo, but it is still Haydn, which means spirit and quality as well as competence. The only lack is individuality; I would hate to face a blind audition of each movement—especially if you switched solo instruments. These performances are also conventional, too much so. The modern-instrument band produces very little color, and less variety of it. Bland, tubby recorded sound reinforces that feeling; trumpets in the C-Major pieces are barely noticeable, and drumbeats are little more than extra reverberances. By contrast, Brilliant’s period-instrument Ensemble Dolce Risonanza produces vibrant colors and violent explosions. The tables are turned with the soloists, however; Brilliant’s Anton Holzapfel can hardly get a note in edgewise among all those dolce risonanzas, whereas both Hoeren and Gaugsand take the lead when called upon and give imaginative, well-rounded performances. The best things here are the Allegro finales, which are taken at spirited, upbeat tempos.
This disc is in no way necessary, but you’re sure to enjoy it.
FANFARE: James H. North
Lorraine at Emmanuel / Lieberson
As it happens, this release serves as tribute not only to Hunt Lieberson, who died in 2006, but also to her frequent close collaborator Craig Smith, the founder of Emmanuel Music, who died in November. And the material is choice: spacious arias from two Bach cantatas and extended excerpts from Handel’s oratorio “Hercules.”
The disc begins with a 1992 recording of the aria “Kommt ihr angefochtnen Sünder” from Bach’s Cantata No. 30: Something of a tease as the opening instrumental passage heightens the anticipation of Hunt Lieberson’s entrance, more than two minutes into the disc. But that glorious Voice, when it appears, meets every expectation.
The “Hercules” excerpts, from 1999, trace the travails of the hero’s wife, Dejanira, culminating in a harrowing mad scene.... Although Hunt Lieberson’s compelling stage presence added mightily to any performance, the voice alone amply conveys her characteristic intensity here....
Dare we hope for more?"
– James R. Oestreich, New York Times [8/10/2008]
The early death of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson deprived the world of an exceptional artist and one, moreover, who left all too few commercial recordings. However, some archive recordings are now beginning to emerge and this new release, featuring previously unissued live recordings is one such. The CD also forms a tribute to one of her mentors, Craig Smith, Music Director at Emmanuel Church, Boston from 1970 until his death in November 2007 at the age of sixty.
Smith founded Emmanuel Music, which, besides fulfilling a liturgical function at the church, evolved also into a concert ensemble of no little distinction. Perhaps Smith’s greatest achievement was to inaugurate the practice whereby each Sunday between October and April, the main Sunday morning church service includes a cantata by Bach appropriate to the day. That tradition continues to this day and later this year the thirty-ninth consecutive season of liturgical cantatas will commence.
It was through Emmanuel Music that the then Lorraine Hunt took some of the first steps on her solo singing career and she maintained the connection, I believe, for the rest of her life, including appearances in the Sunday cantata series. This disc, therefore, takes us back to her singing roots.
The disc begins and ends with arias taken, I presume, from complete Sunday service performances of Bach cantatas. The aria "Kommt ihr angefochtnen Sünder" comes from the cantata Freue dich, erlöste schar, written for the feast of St. John the Baptist. Alfred Dürr writes thus of the cantata: "The underlying mood is joyful, relaxed and unproblematical, not only in the opening chorus but in the four arias, where a dance-like style is often clearly evident." Unfortunately, to judge by this aria at least, Craig Smith seems to have a different conception. Presumably with the agreement of his soloist, he sets and extremely slow tempo and the aria lasts 8:46.
This sent me scurrying to my shelves for comparisons. John Eliot Gardiner, in his Bach Cantata Pilgrimage performance takes a mere 5:27 but he is surely too fleet – at his pace the aria sounds like a gambol through the Elysian meadows. So that might seem to suggest that Smith is "simply" old fashioned in his conception. But turn to Fritz Werner’s 1971 performance and you find a tempo that seems to me to be just right – he takes 6:03. Beside Werner I’m afraid Smith sounds laboured. What saves the performance is the sheer beauty and inwardness of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson’s singing. On its own terms the performance is quite lovely and no admirer of the singer will be disappointed but I just think the basic conception is wrong.
Things are much more satisfactory in the other Bach aria, which is placed at the opposite end of the programme. This aria is from the cantata Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, which is for the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. Again, Miss Hunt Lieberson’s singing is beautiful and communicative and this time the pace is much more sensible, I think. The conductor here is the composer, John Harbison, who has also had a long association with Emmanuel Music and who, in fact, is currently the Acting Artistic Director. He adopts a slow pace, but this aria can take it. Again comparisons were instructive. Eliot Gardiner’s tempo is almost identical and he takes exactly as long as does Harbison. Werner didn’t record this cantata but another celebrated Bach traditionalist, Karl Richter, did. In his 1976/7 recording he takes 9:34 but his soloist, Julia Hamari, sounds cool besides either of her rivals and she and Richter, whose direction is smooth and relaxed, convey no real sense of trepidation. Nathalie Stutzmann, for Eliot Gardiner, is perhaps a touch more inward than Hunt Lieberson but she’s equally involving and it’s only by the merest whisker that I come down in favour of this present, excellent performance.
The remainder of the disc is devoted to excerpts from Handel’s oratorio, Hercules and these excerpts contain all the music for Dejanira, the wife of the eponymous hero. I presume, though it’s not clear from the documentation, that these extracts are taken from a live account of the complete work.
The role of Dejanira is an exceptionally demanding one, both vocally and emotionally. She is, in Craig Smith’s words, a "monumental character." I can well imagine that Lorraine Hunt Lieberson was a pretty formidable presence in the performance of the oratorio for these extracts show us a vivid character portrayal.
In her first aria, "The world when day’s career is run," she is fully the grief-stricken wife, yet she still retains dignity. Much of Dejanira’s music is in moderate or slow tempo but when swifter music arrives, in "Begone, my fears, fly, hence, away," Miss Hunt Lieberson excels in the passagework.
As her jealousy of the captive princess, Iole, begins to take hold and her certainty that Hercules has been unfaithful increases there’s great sadness in the aria ‘When beauty sorrow’s liv’ry wears’ and that is splendidly conveyed here. Particularly outstanding is the account of "Cease, ruler of the day, to rise," where the singing is particularly expressive. Writing of this disc elsewhere, but of another aria in the programme, the critic Michael Kennedy spoke of Miss Hunt Lieberson’s "power to humanise every note and bring the music to new life." How I agree and I’d say that this comment applies even more strongly to this deep aria.
The final excerpt is the Mad Scene. Here Miss Hunt Lieberson is intensely dramatic without ever going overboard. This is extremely demanding music and she performs it vividly and, once again, when the divisions arise she displays fine vocal agility. Hers is a tremendous performance of this recitative and aria and, unsurprisingly, it sparks an ovation from the audience who, otherwise, are commendably silent throughout.
These extracts contain some superb Handel singing. Frequently I was reminded of Dame Janet Baker’s assumption of Handelian roles and I can pay no higher compliment than that.
Despite my reservation over the one Bach item – a reservation that does not concern the singing per se – this is a superb disc that all admirers of this much-missed singer will want to have. And if you’ve not heard Lorraine Hunt Lieberson before, buy this disc and discover for yourself what all the fuss is about.
– John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Birtwistle: Nenia, Fields Of Sorrow / Atherton, Manning, Hacker
Now that Lyrita appear to have reissued the majority of their own archive, it’s gratifying to see that they are turning their attention to some old Decca/British Council releases from the 1960s and 1970s that would otherwise be languishing in the vaults. The Decca Headline series contained some classic performances of then avant-garde works by contemporary composers; it featured works by international figures such as Messiaen, Lutoslawski and Henze in addition to home-grown talent such as Birtwistle, Bedford and Musgrave. The present CD is a straight reissue of HEAD 7 and contains three key works by Birtwistle from the late 1960s/early 1970s. It offers a useful snapshot of the composer’s style as he moved from the harsh expressionism of his early works (typified by the opera Punch and Judy) to his increasing fascination with the Orpheus legend, itself reflected in a softer-grained, relatively lyrical approach. On this CD The Fields of Sorrow and Nenia represent, broadly speaking, the latter approach; Verses for Ensembles contains elements of the more angular, rigorous Birtwistle.
Jane Manning joins the London Sinfonietta and Chorus for The Fields of Sorrow; word setting is unconventional, being divided across the forces, often syllabically. The performers are also distributed across the sound-stage, creating together with the bell-like sonorities a ghostly, disembodied effect. This effectively reflects the mediaeval poem which Birtwistle sets, depicting the journey of two souls through a gloomy forest in Hades.
By contrast with Verses for Ensembles we have what marks perhaps a culmination of his early, expressionist years. Hieratic brass and woodwind writing, contrasted with ebullient percussion, throw us immediately into a very different sound-world. The work encapsulates many characteristics of Birtwistle’s "early" period; his use of verse and refrain forms as a structural device, his fascination with procession or ritual, and a deployment of contrasting instrumental resources as a way of articulating the structure for the listener. The instrumentation is set into sharp relief by the composer’s spatial distribution of his forces on stage. Thus two woodwind groups sit to the left and right of the stage, with brass and percussion towards the rear. Birtwistle also requires players to move physically to key positions on stage at significant moments in the piece. The sounds themselves contrast harsh, aggressive brass and woodwind writing with softer passages. Verses for Ensembles is by no means an easy work to assimilate, but as ever with Birtwistle the music repays repeated study. The performance, by the forces for which it was written, is everything we could wish for. Perhaps one or two extra tracking points on the CD might have helped those unfamiliar with the music to find their bearings more clearly.
The final work on the CD, Nenia – The Death of Orpheus, was composed the year after Verses. The title refers to a Roman funeral dirge and the goddess invoked; Orpheus and Euridice are the subjects of the ritual. Birtwistle now groups his instrumental forces according to timbres, rather than the contrasting sounds he created in Verses. The instrumental music is dominated by the sound of bass clarinets. The structure of the piece, the instrumental forces, and the vocal style Birtwistle requires of his soloist - Jane Manning again - are immensely fluid, and immensely challenging, but at all times dictated by the text. Once again the performances are astonishing in their virtuosity.
As the composer in his early years moved from one set of preoccupations to another, reflected by a development in his actual compositional style, it’s misleading to suppose that each compositional phase is entirely self-contained, without reference to what came before or after. Birtwistle himself felt that each of his pieces consisted of "layers" reflecting both previous interests and pointing the way forward to future developments. On first hearing the extreme dissonance of Verses for Ensembles may appear to contrast sharply with the softer-grained approach of The Fields of Sorrow; but the composer’s spatial distribution of his forces in both works provides a stylistic link. Nenia, as we have seen, contains the preoccupations with ritual that characterised many of his earlier works. What comes across very clearly - and here I echo a word Paul Conway uses in his excellent booklet notes - is the composer’s stylistic integrity right across his output.
-- Ewan McCormick, MusicWeb International
Dvorák: Complete Symphonies / Järvi, Scottish National O
Neeme Järvi's fresh approach most recalls Rowicki's and results in very fine interpretations of Symphonies Nos. 1-4, 6, and 8; very good ones of Nos. 5 and 9, and a strangely dark and heavy performance of No. 7 that will not appeal to all tastes but bespeaks of a valid interpretive tradition (noted Czech conductor Zdenek Kosler always did it this way too). Sonically the recordings range from excellent to excessively reverberant, but they certainly equal or surpass most of the competition. If you collect these symphonies and want to explore beyond the canonical Big Three sets, you will find much to enjoy here.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Marini: Per le musiche di camera concerti, Op. 7
Auber: Overtures, Vol. 7 / Salvi, Janácek Philharmonic
Dario Salvi's acclaimed survey of overtures by Auber continues with Volume 7. The Janacek Philharmonic Ostrava who were the featured orchestra on Volume 5 (8.574335) return to the series in a volume that includes several world premiere recordings.
REVIEW:
Conductor Dario Salvi is the creative force behind these recordings. All his albums maintain a high standard of performance. And all benefit from innovative programming. The Janacek Philharmonic Ostrava is in fine form here. Under Salvi’s direction, they play with a lighthearted elegance fitting the fairy operas. And they can also deliver some dramatic thundering when necessary.
Including additional music from the operas has slowed Salvi’s traversal of the overtures. But these recordings are about the journey, not the destination. These ballets and incidental music show Auber’s genius. His orchestrations set the stage and tell the story — in music, not words. Another fine addition to this edition.
— WTJU-FM (Ralph Graves)
Songs Of Muriel Herbert / Tynan, Gilchrist, Norris
? Muriel Herbert (1897 ? 1984) studied with Charles Stanford and Roger Quilter at the Royal College of Music, London. Her works consist mainly of songs inspired by poetry and works for violin and piano. This album focuses on her songs.
? Herbert was inspired by the poetry of many including Yeats and Joyce whom she met on many occasions. She was also intrigued by female poets such as Christina Rossetti. These songs have been brought back to life thanks to Herbert's daughter - the biographer Claire Tomalin. The songs are now all housed at the British Library Archive.
? The songs are hugely compelling and delightful and influences of one Herbert's favourite composers Debussy can be heard. Many of these songs are premiere recordings. Among the most popular are: Daffodils, Mirage, Autumn, Lost nightingale and Hips and haws.
? James Gilchristis in demand as a recitalist and chorus member and is a regular voice on BBC Radio 3 and a popular performer at the BBC Proms. He has sung at venues across Europe, America and the UK. His voice has been described as pure and sensitive with an even and beautiful tone. His first two solo albums on Linn Records were very well received; BBC Music Magazine listed ?Oh Fair To See? as a Benchmark Recording, and ?On Wenlock Edge? was a finalist in the Solo Vocal Album category at the 2008 Classic FM Gramophone Awards.
? In 2003 Ailish Tynan won the Rosenblatt Recital Prize at the BBC Cardiff Singer of the World Competition. Other awards include the Maggie Teyte Competition, Miriam Licette Award and the RTÉ Millennium Singer of the Future.
? David Owen Norris has been a featured artist in the Gilmore Festival in Michigan and in the English Music Festival in Dorchester. In 2008 he has given recitals from Edinburgh to Guernsey, including the City of London Festival, the Tate Gallery conference on Vauxhall Gardens, the Three Choirs Festival and Cheltenham.
Track Listing:
1. Loveliest of Trees 2. I cannot lose thee for a day 3. The Crimson Rose 4. I hear an army charging 5. Jour des Morts (Cimetière Montparnasse) 6. She weeps over Rahoon 7. On a Time 8. Have you seen but a white lily grow? 9. I dare not ask a kiss 10. Horsemen 11. To Daffodils 12. How beautiful is night 13. Renouncement 14. I think on thee in the night 15. Faint Heart in a Railway Train 16. Rose kissed me today 17. Lean out of the window 18. Love?s Secret 19. MS. of Benedictbeuern (Carmina Burana) 20. Autumn 21. The Lost Nightingale 22. Jenny kiss?d me 23. Children?s Song 1: Merry-go-round 24. Children?s Song 2: The Gypsies 25. Children?s Song 3: The Tadpole 26. Children?s Song 4: Jack Spratt 27. Children?s Song 5: Acorn and Willow 28. Children?s Song 6: The Bunny 29. In the Days of November (Hips and haws) 30. The Lake Isle of Innisfree 31. David?s Lament for Jonathan 32. Most Holy Night 33. When Death to either shall come 34. Cradle Song 35. Violets 36. Tewkesbury Road Reviews: 04 May 2009 The Observer Fiona Maddocks Your heart doesn't necessarily leap when a scholar announces the discovery of four dozen baroque flute sonatas by someone with a name like Vaporetto. Legions of neglected composers await rediscovery. But on rare occasions, the "lost" talent is real, the pleasure of stumbling across a new body of work exciting and lasting. This is so with Muriel Herbert (1897-1984), brought back to life in this collection of her art songs and performed here by a superb trio of musicians. Their commitment alone endorses the music's quality. Herbert studied music in an era when professional women composers were rare as woodlarks, yet every genteel young woman was expected to play and sing. Born in Sheffield to a musical family, she grew up, in straitened circumstances, in Liverpool, winning a scholarship to the Royal College of Music during the First World War. There she met the great composers of the day - Charles Stanford and the homosexual Roger Quilter, with whom, to no avail, she fell in love. Preferring to work on a small scale, she started writing the elegant songs which would become her main preoccupations. She had some early success. After the war, she lived a bohemian existence, associating with James Joyce and WB Yeats, composing, teaching at a girls' school and singing. But a bad marriage and a pram in the hallway put paid to the bigger career she might have enjoyed. Now her daughter, writer Claire Tomalin, has gathered a collection of her mother's often melancholy songs. She chose texts from a cross-section of poets: AE Housman's "Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now", Hardy's "Faint Heart in a Railway Carriage" (here retitled "Faint Heart in a Railway Train") and Yeats's "The Lake Isle of Innisfree". Piano accompaniments are poignant and skilfully played by David Owen Norris. Ailish Tynan and James Gilchrist sing with open-hearted commitment. I hope the pair incorporate many of these works into their recitals. Steeped in the English song tradition of the early 20th century, they grow on you with each listening. 14 April 2009 Musical Pointers Peter Grahame Woolf You just might have noted Muriel Emily Herbert's name in passing if you'd chanced upon Music Web's 2002 survey Some Women Composers - "Muriel Herbert's titles included Violets, Fountain Court, The Lake Isle of Innisfree, Contentment, Have You Seen But a White Lily Grow? and the familiar Housman words Loveliest of Trees: clearly her taste in lyrics was above the average." That is all... She had studied with Stanford at the Royal College of Music. A few of her songs were published in the '20s and James Joyce thought her settings of his poems were "much too good for the words"! With motherhood, and at a time of disinterest in women composers, her musical career faded into oblivion. This collection of mostly unpublished songs from the '20s and '30's is a treasure trove, re-discovered by her daughter, noted biographer Claire Tomalin, who had packed away all her papers upon Muriel Herbert's death in 1984; no-one was interested in them - ?Everyone's mother wrote songs...' she was told (mine included !). But a little interest surfaced later, first in a radio programme by a former pupil who had been taught by her when he was a boy soprano and who eventually produced this disc... This wonderful CD is the eventual outcome. It is not just Muriel Herbert's taste in poetry that was exceptional; so was her unselfconscious ease in prosody, the setting of words to music, which made me think of Hugo Wolf's. This has been an altogether happy project, with both Ailish Tynan and James Gilchrist in fine voice, supported ideally by David Owen Norris. These are honest songs that should find a welcome in anyone's recital. There is emotion which never becomes mawkish, and wit a-plenty. I greatly regret not having been able to come across Herbert's Children's Songs to Ada Harrison poems when I was trawling the publishers and libraries for repertoire for my boy singer son Simon; they are just as good as Malcolm Williamson's A Child's Garden which he recorded. You can access on Linn's website full information including sound samples of all the songs, two of the shortest Children's Songs, Merry-Go-Round and The Bunny complete. The songs are now archived at the British Library.
Balbastre: Music For Harpsichord / Elizabeth Farr
I was somewhat lukewarm about Elizabeth Farr’s recording of the Bach solo harpsichord concertos (Naxos 8.572006-7), largely because I found the use of the 16' stop on her Keith Hill harpsichord obtrusive. I ended that review by fearing that there would be an even greater problem with the use of such an instrument on this Balbastre recording, since, by Hill’s own admission “no French harpsichords with 16' stops remain from [this] time.”
Since writing that review, I have read another review of the Bach which doesn’t even mention the offending stop, so, clearly, not everyone is going to be troubled by it. Paradoxically, too, though I dislike its use in Bach, where there is some historical evidence to support its use, I was less unhappy to hear it employed for Balbastre, where the evidence is non-existent. De gustibus non est disputandum.
We aren’t exactly well off for recordings of Balbastre: there seems currently to be only one other recording completely dedicated to his music, a 2-CD set of what Glossa call his ‘Salon Music’, another recital of his keyboard music by Mitzi Meyerson (fortepiano and harpsichord, GCD921803), on which much of the music, including the Marche des Marseillois et Ça-ira from Elizabeth Farr’s recording, are duplicated. Otherwise, we have just odd pieces by him on collections, especially on anthologies of that French Christmas phenomenon the instrumental Noël.
Naxos have on their website an interview with Elizabeth Farr, headed ‘My passion is my profession’, in which she speaks of her marvel at the creativity and individuality of the music of the eighteenth century. I’m not sure that I find Balbastre’s music quite as individual as that – perhaps you have to know it as thoroughly as Farr clearly does to distinguish it from that of Rameau or François Couperin – but her performances certainly make a strong case for its inventiveness and attractiveness. The interview was conducted before she set down the recent Bach recording and this of Balbastre, but her love of his music and her understanding of it are apparent from the CDs.
I queried some of Farr’s tempi on the Bach CDs: by comparison with Robert Woolley on Hyperion, some of them sound rather erratic. I wonder if I would have been as critical if I had not had Woolley’s recordings of some of those works for comparison, though I note that the reviewer who seemed untroubled by the use of 16' tone also referred to the problematic tempi.
Not having heard any rival recordings of any significant portion of Balbastre’s repertoire, I can’t make comparisons as I did with Bach. I can only say that I found the playing here much more convincing than I did before. I do just note en passant, however, that Farr’s timings seem to differ from Meyerson’s, sometimes considerably slower, sometimes faster. The brief excerpts which are all that I have been able to hear from those Glossa CDs serve as a reminder that Meyerson alternates between the fortepiano and the harpsichord, which you may find makes for more variety; equally, you may be irritated by repeated change from one instrument to the other. Also, Farr plays the pieces in the order in which they appear in print; Meyerson rearranges them.
Two CDs of this repertoire may look like a case of over-egging the pudding, but I didn’t find it so. If you like the keyboard music of Rameau and Couperin, you should find these CDs to your liking. Indeed, the concluding tracks of CD1 (trs.13-16) offer music from Rameau’s 1748 opera Pygmalion, arranged by Balbastre for the keyboard. Such arrangements, like the wind-band conflations of Mozart’s operas, served as souvenirs for those who had heard the original and as tasters for those who had not. This is some of the most dramatic music on the CDs; the tone of the Overture is particularly well caught here.
Most of the rest of the music is as benign and affable as Balbastre’s second name would imply. I don’t wish to imply, however, that it sounds derivative or banal; as the notes point out, the French harpsichord tradition is modified by the influence of Scarlatti.
The pieces from Book I of the Pièces de clavecin are character portraits. The whole book is dedicated to his pupil Mme de la Caze and her portrait opens the collection and the first of these CDs. It’s a strong piece, though with moments of tenderness, and the contrast between it and its successor on track 2, la d’Héricourt, is well brought out by Farr. Indeed, such variety as there is in the music – probably more apparent to contemporaries than to modern listeners – is well conveyed in these performances.
The last of the aristocratic portraits here is la d’Esclignac of 1787 (CD1, tr.12). The revolution two years later put paid to Balbastre’s employment as a composer of salon pieces; he was to die in poverty ten years later. The final work on the second CD (tr.16) represents his attempt to come to terms with the new régime, a set of variations of the revolutionary tunes la Marseillaise and Ça ira (we will succeed). As played here, it makes a fine conclusion to a recommendable set; I was very happy to pardon the liberty which Elizabeth Farr admits in the notes of repeating la Marseillaise at the end. Meyerson plays the piece as written, which is less dramatic, though you may think her use here of the newer instrument, the fortepiano, more appropriate for music written after the demise of the ancien régime.
The Naxos recording is a little close for my liking, but it captures the big sound of the instrument well – at times in that final Marche the bass sonorities almost sound like those of a grand piano. The documentation is informative and readable and sets the seal on a recommendable pair of CDs.
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Faure: Cello Sonatas / Ben-Sasson, Sternfield
FAURÉ Music for Cello and Piano • Ina-Esther Joost Ben-Sasson (vc); Allan Sternfield (pn) • NAXOS 8570545 (70:06)
Sicilienne, op. 78. Sonata No. 2, op. 117. Après un rêve, op. 7/1. Elégie, op. 24. Romance, op. 69. Berceuse, op. 16. Papillon, op. 77. Sérénade, op. 98. Sonata No. 1, op. 109. Pavane, op. 50
A blurb on the back cover of this album states that “Fauré’s musical language bridged a gap between 19th-century Romanticism and the music that appeared with the new century.” Sounds like something I’ve said before, even having gone so far as to say that Fauré is the missing link between Brahms and Debussy. Whether one chooses to accept that argument or not, it cannot be denied that Gabriel Fauré (1845–1924), a disciple of Saint-Saëns and an admirer of Schumann, Liszt, and Wagner, had, by the turn of the 20th century, largely fashioned a personal style based on the teachings of Gustave Lefèvre, as set forth in his book Traité d’harmonie , published in 1889. In it Lefèvre advances the idea that chords of the seventh and ninth are not dissonant, ergo, they do not require resolution; and that the third of the scale may freely alternate between major and minor within a “composite” scale that incorporates both modes. These ideas were of course embraced by the likes of Walter Piston and Roger Sessions in their own updated 20th-century treatises on harmony. And one hasn’t far to travel from the unresolved sevenths and ninths of Lefèvre and Fauré to the chromatically altered seventh, ninth, 11th, and bi-tonal chords, and the whole-tone and pentatonic scales of Debussy.
Most of the works on this disc are early to middle Fauré, and thus closer in content and style to the romantic aesthetic than they are to the composer’s later efforts. And three of the pieces are arrangements of works originally written for other media. The famous Après un rêve of 1870, presented here in a transcription by Pablo Casals, was conceived as a mélodie for voice and piano. The 1878–79 Berceuse was a violin and piano piece. And the ubiquitous 1887 Pavane , given here in an arrangement by Henri Büsser, was an orchestral work with choral parts later added.
Placing the remaining numbers, originally for cello, in chronological order, we have the Elégie (1883), the Romance (1894), Papillon (1894), Sicilienne (1898), the Sérénade (1908), the First Sonata (1917), and the Second Sonata (1921). While Fauré’s output did not cease in the decade between the 1898 Sicilienne and the 1908 Sérénade , it’s interesting to note that his 1898 incidental music to Pelléas et Mélisande was quite possibly his final doffing of his 19th-century Romantic hat. There’s no questioning that the next few years were a time of reexamination for Fauré. Surely, he must have heard Debussy’s opera based on the same play that was premiered in 1902, and possibly even Schoenberg’s exactly contemporaneous tone poem on the subject. And though I doubt that Sibelius would have been known in France at this early date, it’s not outside the realm of possibility that Fauré may even have heard the Finnish composer’s 1905 incidental music of the same title. Whatever the extent of Fauré’s exposure to these various stimuli may have been, changes in his compositional style and technique become evident with his 1906 song cycle La Chanson d’Eve , op. 95.
Both of the cello sonatas belong to Fauré’s late period, the second of the two being among his last works. While still conforming to a Classical three-movement fast-slow-fast pattern, the harmonic language is now freer and the melodic treatment more fluid, giving a sense that the music is “through-composed.” With the exception of an 1888 Petite pièce in G Major, op. 49, which has been lost, the current Naxos disc, as far as I know, gives us all of Fauré’s original works for cello, plus the three aforementioned arrangements.
German-born, prize-winning cellist Ina-Esther Joost Ben-Sasson studied with Pierre Fournier and Sergiu Celibidache. She is today an Israeli citizen, and principal cellist and frequent soloist with the Jerusalem Symphony Orchestra. Her discography, at least according to Naxos’s brief bio, includes the Bach suites for solo cello, but I was not able to find it, or any other of her recordings, listed. Allan Sternfield is a “made in the U.S.A.” product, having studied at Baltimore’s Peabody Conservatory of Music. He was subsequently coached by Leon Fleisher and Wilhelm Kempff.
Naxos has here entered into competition with itself, for another fine release on the same label with Maria Kliegel and Nina Tichman, minus the Pavane , contains exactly the same program. Such duplication seems odd, especially since both discs seem to have been recorded only a year and a half apart. The current Joost/Sternfield CD, just released, was recorded mid 2007; the Kliegel/Tichman, released in 2008, was recorded late in 2005. It’s a head-scratcher to be sure. Be that as it may, a comparison between the two reveals little difference, certainly not enough to warrant purchasing Joost/Sternfield if you already have Kliegel/Tichman. J&S offer an extra with the inclusion of the Pavane , a piece you’re already bound to have in its original orchestral version. In general, though not in every single case, J&S are a bit slower in their tempo choices than K&T in the short pieces, and considerably so in the two sonatas. This may impart a somewhat more nostalgic feeling to J&S’s readings, which can, at times, suggest a salon atmosphere. But in terms of technical execution, tone production, and intonation, I would be happy with either recording.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
THERE NOW
String Quartets Nos. 2-4, 7 & 8
Paulus: Three Places of Enlightenment; Veil of Tears; Grand Concerto for Organ and Orchestra
So we have two concertos of very similar profile and dimensions, flanking a short piece for string orchestra. The first three tracks contain the Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra, a work written at the behest of the leader of the Cleveland Quartet, William Preucil. It’s interesting that the middle movement is by far the longest – longer in fact than the other two put together – and also that the Grand Concerto on tracks 5-7 has very much the same profile.
What of the music’s style and content? Firstly, I’d recommend listening to the CD before you read too much of the ‘blurb’, some of which is a little off-putting and pompous. I found this an enormously rewarding and enjoyable listen; Paulus is not a progressive composer, nor is he a ‘minimalist’. As you listen, you are more likely to relate his style to music of the second half of the twentieth century – Shostakovich, perhaps, in the nervous rhythms of the Concerto for String Quartet’s thrusting first movement, and maybe even Tippett in the rather beautiful but uneasy slow movement that follows. That is not to say that Paulus is derivative; I only cite these composers to give a stylistic reference point.
The concerto is sub-titled Three Places of Enlightenment, and each movement has a title too; the first is From Within, the second From Afar and the lively third is From All Around and Radiating Ever Outward. Make of that what you will, but the simple fact is that this is entertaining music, superbly conceived for the forces involved.
Veil of Tears is an interlude from Paulus’ holocaust-inspired oratorio To Be Certain of the Dawn. It is a searching, desolate piece — again Shostakovich comes to mind — which could and should find its way into the established string orchestra repertoire. Once more, the composer shows what a wonderful ear he has for texture, and creates music which, while not incredibly hard to play, still manages to use to the full the resources available to him.
The programme on this disc is well constructed, because the Grand Concerto for Organ and Orchestra begins in darkness, following on from the mood of Veil of Tears. This first movement soon opens out into an eventful quicker section, contrasting the solo organ and the various sections of the orchestra in highly effective ways. The recording is excellently balanced – organ concertos are notoriously tricky in this respect – and the alert, characterful playing of the Nashville orchestra under Guerrero comes over with total clarity.
Another refreshing characteristic of Paulus is that he is not afraid of melody. The middle movement of the Grand Concerto begins with a fine example, a winding descending line that ends with the quiet entry of woodwind and strings. The textures here are wonderful, the high-pitched reed tones of the organ blending and mixing with the upper woodwind. Neither is he afraid of a climax, as the colossal build-up at the centre of this magnificent movement (sub-titled Austere: Foreboding) attests. Out of this emerges a long climbing melody in the violins that seems the antithesis of the despondent falling phrase of the opening. The movement ends very quietly. Incidentally, in his note on this movement, the composer mentions his reference to a hymn-tune Come, come ye saints, set to an English folk-melody All is Well. It’s heard softly in the organ near the end.
Busy strings and percussion usher in the finale, Jubilant. It certainly is, and witty too, as it seems to re-create the celebratory mood of the good old Widor Toccata. The energy is vast, and over the organ’s frenzied activity, Paulus introduces the tune O Waly Waly high in the violins. Not sure why, but that doesn’t matter – it’s an exhilarating ride.
All in all, a wonderful CD, and one I would passionately commend to anyone searching for a modern composer who is neither bamboozlingly obscure nor patronisingly accessible.
– MusicWeb International (Gwyn Parry-Jones)