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Reich, Harrison, Whitacre, Tywoniuk, Ravel / Smoke And Mirrors Percussion Ensemble
Yarlung Records · Nov 2012CD$21.99 -
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Oboe Rarities: Original Works for Oboe & Piano / Calcagni, Magagni
Vermeer Records · Jun 2019CD$16.99 -
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Tchaikovsky & Sibelius: Serge Koussevitzky Conducts the London Philharmonic (Live)
SOMM Recordings · Sep 2022CD$32.99 -
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Bach: The Art Of Fugue / Sergio Vartolo, Maddalena Vartolo
Naxos
CD
$29.99
Jul 28, 2009
BACH The Art of Fugue • Sergio Vartolo (hpd); Maddalena Vartolo (hpd) • NAXOS 8.570577 (2 CDs: 102: 13)
Some recordings deserve high praise, some deserve faint praise, and some earn their fair share of ridicule. Then there is the category of those that earn your respect over time, if you have the stamina to hang in. Bach’s The Art of Fugue , BWV 1080, usually considered an intellectually “dry” work, as played on the harpsichord by Sergio Vartolo (with Maddalena Vartolo on the final two pieces for two harpsichords), won me over after a struggle. The first time through, I experienced a rash of negative judgments: the tempo was too slow, the beat was too regular, the dynamic range was too narrow (only from p to f , while the piano could cover from ppp to fff ), the soloist is an academic (and you know how they are), and there was no exhilaration by acceleration. Everything was too risk free, too free of passion. I was under the spell of the modern piano readings of Bach’s music. But after putting these discs aside for about a week, I asked myself: “If the disc is all that, why did Naxos offer it?” I concluded that I must not have been listening with both frontal lobes of my brain operating. Or, maybe the first time through I’d put too much Kirsch in the fondue for lunch, and it affected my judgment. In any event, I didn’t “get it.”
So I listened to all 102:13 of it, again. This time I realized what I’d forgotten in my prejudice. Of course, the harpsichord had a limited dynamic range with each string being plucked by a leather plectrum under uniform pressure each time its keyboard note was struck (no matter how heartily or delicately). That is one of the limiting factors of its design, which became an incentive in the development of the forte piano. As for the tempo and the rhythm, I realized these were likely a secondary concern to Bach, a champion of well-tempered tuning, in these contrapuntal but equally harmonic exercises. The metronome had not yet been developed, so there couldn’t have been exact instructions from the composer as would become the later practice. There were likely “conventions,” probably issued verbally on the signature score, as to the approximate tempo the composer recommended for each section.
In my bifurcated Oblomovian mind, I decided to concede the tempo to the performer, especially as Vartolo is a highly prolific recording artist, a regular medal winner, as well as a professor at the Accademia Filarmonica of Bologna, where, in 1770, a new member—W. A. Mozart—was installed. I reasoned if there were existing instructions from Bach, or conventions that were observed concerning tempo, rubato, syncopation, etc., Vartolo (as scholar) would know them. And this time I enjoyed my listening much more. But I still wasn’t sold.
During my third trip through the Art of Fugue with Vartolo, I got so into the music I could forget about dynamic range and tempo and appreciate the gorgeous sound of the harpsichord, the skill of the Naxos recording engineers, as well as the spellbinding quality of Vartolo’s playing. I’ve taken to putting it in my CD player first thing in the morning, and (setting it on automatic repeat) letting it play all day while I am at my computer. The presentation of the music is so inevitable, the playing and recording so clean, that I’ve come to hear the clarity of the argument for original instruments, something I had thought too doctrinaire. Certainly, this music—when played on a modern piano, even by soloists who loved Bach (like Glenn Gould)—takes on a quite different mode of presentation. But I can hear the case for equally expert playing on the harpsichord.
In conclusion, I’m not too proud to climb down off my high horse and recommend this two-CD set. It has won me over by overcoming my knee-jerk reactions. If you are interested in Bach, or the fugue, or the harpsichord, or the body of work known as The Art of Fugue , I recommend this recording with high praise. Both the playing and the recording are damn fine. The lesson I’ve learned here, and hope to share with you is that in judging music, it seems best to admit your prejudices to yourself. If you can keep aware of your own preferences, education, music you exclude on specious grounds, you might discover the value of music that is new to you. As I have. Music loving ought to be inclusive. It depends on how you do it. I recommend that you Zen yourself out with Vartolo’s The Art of Fugue during a rainy weekend. You could be pleasantly surprised! And for you harpsichord players out there, you already knew all this. But isn’t it cool to see it in print?
FANFARE: Ilya Oblomov
Martin Y Soler: Il Burbero Di Buon Cuore / Rousset
Dynamic
DVD
$36.99
Jan 01, 2011
WORLD PREMIERE RECORDING!
Elena de la Merced; Veronique Gens; Cecilia Diaz; Saimir Pirgu; Juan Francisco Gatell; Luca Pisaroni; Carlos Chausson; Josep Miquel Ramón
Orquesta Titular del Teatro Real (Orquesta Sinfónica de Madrid)/Christophe Rousset
Irina Brook, director
NTSC All Region; 16:9; SS 5.1/LPCM 2.0; Approx. 140 mins.
Subtitled in Italian, English, German, French & Spanish
Recorded in High Definition on November 14th-18th, 2007, Teatro Real, Madrid
Il Burbero di buon cuore is a dramma giocoso in two acts composed by Vicente Martín y Soler to a libretto by Lorenzo da Ponte, based on one of the most popular and amusing French comedies by Carlo Goldoni, Le bourru bienfaisant. The recording of Il Burbero di buon cuore confirms the collaboration between Dynamic and Teatro Real of Madrid (which started with the release of the double CD in World Premiere Recording La Conquista di Granata by Emilio Arrieta). This opera had been absent from Madrid’s stages since 1792. In October 1789, in fact, Mozart composed two “substitute arias” for this opera: Chi sa, chi sa qual sia KV 582 and Vado, ma dove? Oh Dei! KV 583, which, given their superior musical quality, have opportunely been inserted in this edition of the opera, sung by Véronique Gens. Soprano Véronique Gens appears also on Dynamic’s DVD Agrippina by Handel, which won the Record Academy Award 2007 in Japan in the category DVD opera. Director Irina Brook is the daughter of the famous British director Peter Brook, at her debut in Teatro Real. She sets the action in today’s times and mixes several styles and epochs, creating a very well lit and bright setting with a very effective result. The touch of classical and baroque expert Christophe Rousset perfectly enhances the music. The French conductor delivers a lesson of style extracting from the Symphonic Orchestra of Madrid a sweet and smooth sound ideally harmonized with the partitura.
R E V I E W:
3344250.zz80_MARTIN_Y_SOLER_Il.html
MARTÍN Y SOLER Il burbero di buon cuore • Christophe Rousset, cond; Elena de la Merced ( Angelica ); Carlos Chausson ( Ferramondo ); Véronique Gens ( Madama Lucilla ); Salmir Pirgu ( Giocondo ); Cecilia Diáz ( Marina ); Juan Francisco Gatell ( Valerio ); Luca Pisaroni ( Dorval ); Josep Miquel Ramón ( Castagna ); Madrid Teatro Real O • DYNAMIC 33580 (2 DVDs: 140:00) Live: Madrid 11/2007
The plot to Il burbero di buon cuore was taken from a 1771 play by Goldoni, Le bourru bienfaisant . As with all of Goldoni’s mature comedies, stereotypes of commedia dell’arte and old Roman farce are humanized with vivid personal detail. Thus, the Bartolo-like antagonist, Ferramondo, isn’t a conventional blusterer, but a kindly, well-intentioned man who is easily irritated and possesses a hair-trigger temper. His niece, Angelica, is too frightened to do more than equivocate before her uncle. This, of course, only drives him quickly up a wall. The other figures surrounding them are similarly more than expected—such as Ferramondo’s nephew, emotive Giocondo, a master of bad financial decision making, who desperately tries to live up to his uncle’s standards; and Giocondo’s wife, Lucilla, a spendthrift who dearly loves her husband, and doesn’t realize the monetary hole they’re in. (Not for nothing is the opera described as a dramma giocoso , which is usually taken to mean a work that mixes buffo and semi-seria elements.) Even the servant, Castagna, is deftly characterized, an alert, ironical philosopher who lectures Giocondo on living within his means. Lorenzo Da Ponte, not surprisingly, creates a clever libretto out of this material, and Martín y Soler provides a thoughtful setting that starts simple—not unlike Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro —only to grow in technical complexity and expressive depth as matters become more complicated.
Speaking of Figaro brings to mind the friendly rivalry of the two composers on Viennese operatic stages, best known for Mozart’s wink at Martín y Soler’s success with a musical quote from Una cosa rara (1786) in Don Giovanni (1787). Mozart also wrote a pair of substitute arias for Louise Villeneuve, the original Lucilla, when Il burbero was revived in 1789. They’re used in this performance, though one could wish the originals had been offered as a purely audio alternative among the extras. (There are also some significant cuts here, including material relating to a sub-plot involving the placement of Angelica in a nunnery so that Giocondo can acquire her dowry.)
The time and setting have been changed in this production, and we find ourselves in modern times, in the lobby of a moderately shabby hotel, still showing signs of former quality—along with a broad ragbag of typical hotel bric-a-brac from the late 19th century on up to the present. Irina Brook’s direction makes excellent and understated use of the lobby layout and its many appropriate props, with characters working, relaxing, and eating—in short, engaging in activities one would expect to occur where they are, instead of being placed in empty, sterile environments where they can only sit and wait for their lines. To her credit, the actors’ movements and reactions seem both natural and inevitable.
But you have to watch out when you change an opera’s time and location. They’re tricky things. Even here, with so much being handled well, the act I finale is problematic. Why should Ferramondo and his chess partner, the placid Dorval, suddenly express horror followed by anger at finding a man they don’t know in Marina’s hotel? The answer lies in the original setting. Marina wasn’t a hotelier, but a housekeeper, and the house belonged to Ferramondo. To find an unknown man upon entering one’s own house—and with only unmarried women present!—would have caused any man of the period grave concern.
There’s a casting choice that causes minor problems of its own, as well. Luca Pisaroni is a young bass-baritone, not more than 25 by his looks, yet there are several references in the libretto to his advanced age. Whether he was first choice for Dorval or not, he sings well, and acts in a pleasant if generalized “situation comedy” manner that works. Given a choice between having him shown at his proper age or disguised to look 20 years older or more isn’t a contest, as such disguises rarely work in realistic settings.
Most of the rest of the cast is similarly strong. Both Pirgu and Gatell possess effective lyric tenors, with the former getting the lion’s share of the work. His act I aria, “Degli anni sui fiore,” seems meant for a slower tempo than the quick, prosaic one Rousset wished upon it, but Pirgu floats an attractive tone and displays a pleasing sense of phrasing. Gens and Merced are vocally and interpretatively excellent, with the patricianly tone of the former and the sweetness of the latter providing good contrast. Ramón’s bass is little tested by his secondary aria, but he does a fine job overall. The best acting and some of the strongest singing comes from Chausson. He plays the choleric but large-hearted Ferramondo with a focus and attention to details of characterization that would grace a quality production of a Sardou play; yet he doesn’t lack for the customary verbal agility and solid, resonant depth of a basso buffo . Only Diaz seems overparted, her intonation sometimes suspect, her tone gray except at the bottom of its range when it blossoms out magnificently. The Madrid SO is in fine shape, and aside from rushing three slower arias, Roussett conducts sympathetically and with a light, engaging touch.
The camerawork is good, focusing on elements of action rather than whoever is singing—so you really do get to view all of what’s going on at any given time. Sound is Dolby Digital 5.1, and Linear PCM 2.0. Subtitles are available in Italian, English, German, French, and Spanish. The video format is 16:9.
In short—with a few noted reservations—this is a fine cast in an unusually well-directed production of an entertaining, forgotten opera. It’s far above the standard cut of modern premieres for works of its period, and really could stand as an example of how to build a stage environment that works with singers and helps develop their characters instead of narrowing their actions. Do I think this represents the edge of a new trend? Not a chance. Do I think Il burbero di buon cuore is worth a viewing or several? Without question.
FANFARE: Barry Brenesal
Elena de la Merced; Veronique Gens; Cecilia Diaz; Saimir Pirgu; Juan Francisco Gatell; Luca Pisaroni; Carlos Chausson; Josep Miquel Ramón
Orquesta Titular del Teatro Real (Orquesta Sinfónica de Madrid)/Christophe Rousset
Irina Brook, director
NTSC All Region; 16:9; SS 5.1/LPCM 2.0; Approx. 140 mins.
Subtitled in Italian, English, German, French & Spanish
Recorded in High Definition on November 14th-18th, 2007, Teatro Real, Madrid
Il Burbero di buon cuore is a dramma giocoso in two acts composed by Vicente Martín y Soler to a libretto by Lorenzo da Ponte, based on one of the most popular and amusing French comedies by Carlo Goldoni, Le bourru bienfaisant. The recording of Il Burbero di buon cuore confirms the collaboration between Dynamic and Teatro Real of Madrid (which started with the release of the double CD in World Premiere Recording La Conquista di Granata by Emilio Arrieta). This opera had been absent from Madrid’s stages since 1792. In October 1789, in fact, Mozart composed two “substitute arias” for this opera: Chi sa, chi sa qual sia KV 582 and Vado, ma dove? Oh Dei! KV 583, which, given their superior musical quality, have opportunely been inserted in this edition of the opera, sung by Véronique Gens. Soprano Véronique Gens appears also on Dynamic’s DVD Agrippina by Handel, which won the Record Academy Award 2007 in Japan in the category DVD opera. Director Irina Brook is the daughter of the famous British director Peter Brook, at her debut in Teatro Real. She sets the action in today’s times and mixes several styles and epochs, creating a very well lit and bright setting with a very effective result. The touch of classical and baroque expert Christophe Rousset perfectly enhances the music. The French conductor delivers a lesson of style extracting from the Symphonic Orchestra of Madrid a sweet and smooth sound ideally harmonized with the partitura.
R E V I E W:
MARTÍN Y SOLER Il burbero di buon cuore • Christophe Rousset, cond; Elena de la Merced ( Angelica ); Carlos Chausson ( Ferramondo ); Véronique Gens ( Madama Lucilla ); Salmir Pirgu ( Giocondo ); Cecilia Diáz ( Marina ); Juan Francisco Gatell ( Valerio ); Luca Pisaroni ( Dorval ); Josep Miquel Ramón ( Castagna ); Madrid Teatro Real O • DYNAMIC 33580 (2 DVDs: 140:00) Live: Madrid 11/2007
The plot to Il burbero di buon cuore was taken from a 1771 play by Goldoni, Le bourru bienfaisant . As with all of Goldoni’s mature comedies, stereotypes of commedia dell’arte and old Roman farce are humanized with vivid personal detail. Thus, the Bartolo-like antagonist, Ferramondo, isn’t a conventional blusterer, but a kindly, well-intentioned man who is easily irritated and possesses a hair-trigger temper. His niece, Angelica, is too frightened to do more than equivocate before her uncle. This, of course, only drives him quickly up a wall. The other figures surrounding them are similarly more than expected—such as Ferramondo’s nephew, emotive Giocondo, a master of bad financial decision making, who desperately tries to live up to his uncle’s standards; and Giocondo’s wife, Lucilla, a spendthrift who dearly loves her husband, and doesn’t realize the monetary hole they’re in. (Not for nothing is the opera described as a dramma giocoso , which is usually taken to mean a work that mixes buffo and semi-seria elements.) Even the servant, Castagna, is deftly characterized, an alert, ironical philosopher who lectures Giocondo on living within his means. Lorenzo Da Ponte, not surprisingly, creates a clever libretto out of this material, and Martín y Soler provides a thoughtful setting that starts simple—not unlike Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro —only to grow in technical complexity and expressive depth as matters become more complicated.
Speaking of Figaro brings to mind the friendly rivalry of the two composers on Viennese operatic stages, best known for Mozart’s wink at Martín y Soler’s success with a musical quote from Una cosa rara (1786) in Don Giovanni (1787). Mozart also wrote a pair of substitute arias for Louise Villeneuve, the original Lucilla, when Il burbero was revived in 1789. They’re used in this performance, though one could wish the originals had been offered as a purely audio alternative among the extras. (There are also some significant cuts here, including material relating to a sub-plot involving the placement of Angelica in a nunnery so that Giocondo can acquire her dowry.)
The time and setting have been changed in this production, and we find ourselves in modern times, in the lobby of a moderately shabby hotel, still showing signs of former quality—along with a broad ragbag of typical hotel bric-a-brac from the late 19th century on up to the present. Irina Brook’s direction makes excellent and understated use of the lobby layout and its many appropriate props, with characters working, relaxing, and eating—in short, engaging in activities one would expect to occur where they are, instead of being placed in empty, sterile environments where they can only sit and wait for their lines. To her credit, the actors’ movements and reactions seem both natural and inevitable.
But you have to watch out when you change an opera’s time and location. They’re tricky things. Even here, with so much being handled well, the act I finale is problematic. Why should Ferramondo and his chess partner, the placid Dorval, suddenly express horror followed by anger at finding a man they don’t know in Marina’s hotel? The answer lies in the original setting. Marina wasn’t a hotelier, but a housekeeper, and the house belonged to Ferramondo. To find an unknown man upon entering one’s own house—and with only unmarried women present!—would have caused any man of the period grave concern.
There’s a casting choice that causes minor problems of its own, as well. Luca Pisaroni is a young bass-baritone, not more than 25 by his looks, yet there are several references in the libretto to his advanced age. Whether he was first choice for Dorval or not, he sings well, and acts in a pleasant if generalized “situation comedy” manner that works. Given a choice between having him shown at his proper age or disguised to look 20 years older or more isn’t a contest, as such disguises rarely work in realistic settings.
Most of the rest of the cast is similarly strong. Both Pirgu and Gatell possess effective lyric tenors, with the former getting the lion’s share of the work. His act I aria, “Degli anni sui fiore,” seems meant for a slower tempo than the quick, prosaic one Rousset wished upon it, but Pirgu floats an attractive tone and displays a pleasing sense of phrasing. Gens and Merced are vocally and interpretatively excellent, with the patricianly tone of the former and the sweetness of the latter providing good contrast. Ramón’s bass is little tested by his secondary aria, but he does a fine job overall. The best acting and some of the strongest singing comes from Chausson. He plays the choleric but large-hearted Ferramondo with a focus and attention to details of characterization that would grace a quality production of a Sardou play; yet he doesn’t lack for the customary verbal agility and solid, resonant depth of a basso buffo . Only Diaz seems overparted, her intonation sometimes suspect, her tone gray except at the bottom of its range when it blossoms out magnificently. The Madrid SO is in fine shape, and aside from rushing three slower arias, Roussett conducts sympathetically and with a light, engaging touch.
The camerawork is good, focusing on elements of action rather than whoever is singing—so you really do get to view all of what’s going on at any given time. Sound is Dolby Digital 5.1, and Linear PCM 2.0. Subtitles are available in Italian, English, German, French, and Spanish. The video format is 16:9.
In short—with a few noted reservations—this is a fine cast in an unusually well-directed production of an entertaining, forgotten opera. It’s far above the standard cut of modern premieres for works of its period, and really could stand as an example of how to build a stage environment that works with singers and helps develop their characters instead of narrowing their actions. Do I think this represents the edge of a new trend? Not a chance. Do I think Il burbero di buon cuore is worth a viewing or several? Without question.
FANFARE: Barry Brenesal
Pejacevic: Symphony, Op. 41; Phantasie Concertante / Rasilainen, Banfield, Rheinland-pfalz State Philharmonic
CPO
CD
$18.99
May 31, 2011
PEJA?EVI? Symphony in f?. Phantasie Concertante for Piano and Orchestra • Ari Rasilainen, cond; Volker Banfield (pn); Rheinland-Pfalz St PO • CPO 777418 (62:42)
Cpo, a label noted for ferreting out obscure repertoire, has outdone itself this time by digging up not just another female composer—that alone wouldn’t be so rare—but a Croatian one to boot. Heretofore, I don’t think I could have named a single Croatian composer of any gender, but now I can. Short-lived Dora Peja?evi? (1885–1923) was actually born in Budapest, the daughter of a Croatian father and a Hungarian mother, the Countess Lilla Vay de Vaya, an accomplished pianist and Dora’s first teacher. On her father’s side, Dora was descended from a distinguished noble family in Slavonia, the eastern region of Croatia. In composition, she was largely self-taught, but she did receive some private instruction in Zagreb, Dresden, and Munich. She died at 38 following complications of childbirth.
During her short life, she produced 58 documented works. That number isn’t particularly noteworthy compared to other composers who died even younger and wrote much more, but what is worth mentioning is that like another female composer, the French Louise Farrenc (1804–75), Peja?evi? competed with the boys in the arena of large symphonic, concerted orchestral, and chamber works. In addition to the symphony and concert fantasy on this disc, known and/or published works include a piano concerto, sonatas for piano, violin, and cello, and a piano quintet. During her life, her music was not entirely unknown in the music capitals of Europe; it was heard in Vienna, Munich, Budapest, and Prague.
The works Peja?evi? left behind, to the extent they were acknowledged at all, must have seemed hopelessly outdated by a musical intelligentsia preoccupied with the latest compositional novelties. It’s not just that she embraced a musical vocabulary practically indistinguishable from any number of late 19th-century Romantic composers, but by the time she came to begin her F?-Minor Symphony in 1916, completing it a year later, the era of the big Romantic symphony was on life support, or at least on recuperative leave. Mahler had pretty much seen to that a decade earlier. Last-stand efforts by Rachmaninoff, Sibelius, Franz Schmidt, and a number of others didn’t change the fact that the symphony, as inherited from the 19th century, was about to take on new forms and modes of expression in the 20th.
Peja?evi?’s symphony, like Rachmaninoff’s Second, may have been written in the 20th century, but it belongs to the 19th. It’s your standard-issue four-movement effusively romantic affair—a rich tapestry spun from strands of long-breathed chromatically enhanced melody, luxuriant harmony, and opulent orchestration. It doesn’t seem to be much influenced by the Mahler-Zemlinsky-Schoenberg axis, though perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise considering the very complex cultural cross-pollination of Croatia’s history by Hungarian, Italian, and even Russian influences. In fact, isolated passages throughout Peja?evi?’s symphony remind me a bit of Glazunov. But there are so many other crosscurrents going on in the score, not least of which is a passage at 7:54 in the first movement that sounds like it escaped from Dukas’s The Sorcerer’s Apprentice . But it quickly morphs into something that sounds like it was lifted from Strauss’s An Alpine Symphony.
If there’s any surprise at all in Peja?evi?’s piece it’s how upbeat and optimistic it sounds for a work ostensibly in a minor key. Her melodies have an almost Italianate character to them in their lithe and graceful manner, and if the title and notes didn’t identify the piece as being in minor, I’d bet the farm it was in major.
The piano Phantasie Concertante came two years after completion of the symphony. In a single movement lasting almost 15 minutes, the piece is a virtuoso vehicle that alternates between Gershwin-like bluesy harmonies and jazzy rhythms on the one hand and keyboard figuration right out of Rachmaninoff on the other. Just listen to the broad, lush melody beginning in the cellos at 6:12 and the florid passagework in the piano weaving around and entwining with it. It could have come from the first movement of Rachmaninoff’s Second Concerto. I hope someone from Hyperion is reading this, because Peja?evi?’s Phantasie and probably her piano concerto as well are ideal candidates for the next volume of the Romantic Piano Concerto series.
When you hear this piece you will wonder how Peja?evi? could have been forgotten. If the climax to the lengthy aforementioned passage doesn’t sweep you away, I can’t think of much else that will. The fact that Peja?evi? could develop, build, and sustain a musical paragraph of such length is evidence in itself that the woman could write circles around many of her peers, male or female.
Pianist Volker Banfield is stunning, as are conductor Ari Rasilainen and his Rheinland-Pfalz State Philharmonic forces. Cpo has done it again. I thought I’d already settled on my annual Want List selections, but this dark horse entry is just going to have to push another pick aside. Urgently recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Reich, Harrison, Whitacre, Tywoniuk, Ravel / Smoke And Mirrors Percussion Ensemble
Yarlung Records
CD
$21.99
Nov 13, 2012
In Music for Pieces of Wood, Joe Beribak, sitting in the center of a semicircle, begins to strike the first pattern. Joe will maintain this pattern, unflinchingly, for the entire duration of the piece. Katy, Jessica, Derek and Eddie contribute all of the sinuous and minimalist variation which they weave into filaments of sound and rhythm as if all five musicians were one person. Smoke & Mirrors takes us on many journeys in this album. These are refreshingly fully-developed works, each very different from the others, each with its own story. As a whole, these pieces illustrate the breadth of contemporary classical music written for percussionists, as well as the flexibility and virtuosity of Smoke & Mirrors. World class and sophisticated as this ensemble is, these musicians retain and communicate the sheer joy we experienced when banging pots and pans as two-, and three-year olds. Do you remember your own pleasure making a racket as a kid? Smoke & Mirrors: Katalin La Favre, Jessica Cameron, Joe Beribak, Edward Hong and Derek Tywoniuk have never forgotten it.
Oboe Rarities: Original Works for Oboe & Piano / Calcagni, Magagni
Vermeer Records
CD
$16.99
Jun 21, 2019
Every instrument’s repertoire is usually rich in works composed in very idiomatic ways and realized by authors often unknown to the general audience. Especially in the 19th Century it is possible to notice a very rich literature dedicated to the most different musical instruments able to satisfy the needs and requirements of the one who had to perform as a soloist. In the case of oboe the works we present are an example of a production that collects virtuosity and melodic pleasure. They are all by 19th Century Composers from all over the world - Spain ( Escobés ), France ( Saint-Saëns, Stupuy ), The Netherlands ( Barth ) and England (Walmisley )- everyone with their own peculiarities but united in the perfect agreement of the virtuosic and expressive resources of oboe. Enrico Calcagni is a keen scholar of his instrument repertoire both classic and contemporaneous (as you can see in Vermeer 40020: Henry’s Adventure ) and in this release we have a tangible interpretation of instrumental brilliancy and vividness giving us back in their authenticity too long forgotten works.
Tchaikovsky & Sibelius: Serge Koussevitzky Conducts the London Philharmonic (Live)
SOMM Recordings
CD
$32.99
Sep 02, 2022
SOMM Recordings announces a major new release: the first appearance on album of live performances of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth and Sibelius’ Second Symphonies by the iconic conductor Serge Koussevitzky and the London Philharmonic Orchestra. This historic, two-album set includes an exclusive, specially-commissioned documentary about Koussevitzky’s Boston Symphony Orchestra tenure and his LPO guest appearances, featuring interviews with four key players from both orchestras by Jon Tolansky. Tolansky’s revealing hour-long documentary includes wide-ranging musical excerpts and contributions from former BSO players Harry Ellis Dickson (violin), Everett ‘Vic’ Firth (timpani), and Harry Shapiro (sub-principal horn), and erstwhile LPO sub-principal horn Patrick Strevens. The symphonies are heard in performances Koussevitzky conducted with the LPO in London’s Royal Albert Hall in 1950. Both have been expertly restored by Lani Spahr. Noted authority on historical recordings Rob Cowan provides detailed booklet notes on the “individual, flexible, flammable, emotionally candid and utterly spontaneous” Koussevitzky’s stewardship of both orchestras. He describes the Tchaikovsky as “especially unique [in] its unsparing volatility.... The explosive climaxes leave the audience stunned”. Of the Sibelius, he says: “Koussevitzky’s London Second is as comprehensive an overview of the work as we have”.
Lani Spahr’s previous restorations for SOMM include the four-disc Elgar Remastered (SOMMCD 261-4) featuring recordings from the composer’s own collection, hailed by Audiophilia as “a fascinating achievement which will have you wishing for more”. George Szell: The Forgotten Recordings was a Gramophone Editor’s Choice and awarded a Diapason d’Or as “a major discovery”. Jon Tolansky is the founder of the Music Performance Research Centre (now Music Preserved) and a widely admired producer of audio documentaries on classical musicians. For Spahr’s restorations on Beecham Conducts Sibelius, he produced a 30-minute audio documentary. MusicWeb International declared it “an unmissable disc [that] walks straight into a position of eminence in the catalogue”.
Haydn: Oratorios / Spering, Schuldt-Jensen
Naxos
CD
$53.99
Apr 28, 2009
Reviews of recordings in this set:
The Creation
Although The Creation is no stranger to period-instrument performance, two in particular spring to mind as particularly outstanding. The first of these is Christopher Hogwood's on L'Oiseau-Lyre, which is in English and remains the only version to assemble the huge forces for which Haydn actually wrote, with singularly thrilling results. Second, there is Hengelbrock on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, who demonstrated that at least on recordings the music can sound just as big and colorful, but without extensive doubling of instrumental parts. In his version of The Seasons, René Jacobs accomplished a similar feat, and so does this newcomer, even outdoing Hengelbrock in wringing every last drop of color from Haydn's perennially fresh orchestration. All of the other period performances, including Brüggen, Weil, Harnoncourt (twice), Kuijken, and Gardiner, stand at some remove from these three.
Andreas Spering has a lot going for him right from the beginning: crack vocal and instrumental forces, a strong lineup of soloists, and an excellent German radio production that sounds fabulous...This account of Chaos must stand as the most creepy and desolate on disc, the music still truly revolutionary and modern even at this late date. Spering takes time to make every detail tell: the sudden brass interjections, the startling clarinet run leading to the recapitulation, the muted strings and soloistic writing for timpani. Spering rightly treats the piece Romantically, allowing plenty of opportunities for rhetorical emphasis, as at the thrilling eruption of light and the ensuing recitative, taken a bit slower and more grandly than usual. But there's nothing mannered or unduly exaggerated: everything is dictated by the sense of the text. The chorus obviously relishes the words and sings as though they really mean something.
There are too many outstanding details to list completely. The concluding choruses of all three parts combine blazing brass with exceptional contrapuntal clarity. Sunhae Im and Hanno Müller-Brachmann make a charming Adam and Eve. The latter hasn't the steadiest of baritone voices, particularly in his lower register (as I noted in his recent recording of Bach's B minor Mass for Naxos), but he does surprisingly well in Raphael's big Part 2 aria "Nun scheint in vollem Glanze der Himmel", and tenor Jan Kobow turns in an excellent "In Native Worth" (as it's known in English). Spering somehow manages to play the living daylights out of the great duet with chorus at the center of Part 3, which Tovey called the greatest single movement that Haydn ever wrote, without making an anti-climax out of the following Adam and Eve duet and the big closing ensemble, with its dazzling coloratura "Amens". In short, from just about every possible standpoint, this is as fine a performance of this work as I hope to hear, one that at every turn reveals the miraculously undying youthfulness of Haydn's inspiration. Now on to the The Seasons, please!
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Il ritorno di Tobia (The Return of Tobias)
A welcome addition … worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period.
This is a real find and a welcome addition to the Naxos catalogue. Haydn is justifiably famous for his oratorios The Seasons and The Creation. The latter has been recorded by these artists for Naxos to great acclaim. Now Andreas Spering and his Capella Augustina have unearthed Haydn’s first, all but forgotten oratorio, The Return of Tobias. The apocryphal subject of Tobias and the angel was extraordinarily popular in Haydn’s Vienna when he was composing this work, and he chose to home in on the section of the story when Tobias (Tobia) returns from his long absence from home and, with the help of his friend Asaria, aka the Archangel Raphael in disguise, cures his father’s blindness. Haydn takes this as an opportunity to create an oratorio which, while not as pacy or fast-moving as The Seasons and The Creation, contains much of beauty, and some very virtuosic singing for both chorus and soloists. Popular as the Tobias legend was in 1775, however, it quickly fell out of favour. It was furthermore felt that Haydn’s oratorio was too long (nearly 3 hours) and difficult to be easily revived so it fell out of favour and has barely been heard since. Length is less of an issue when you listen at home and, thankfully, the artists involved here make this difficult score seem all but effortless.
The first accolades have to go to the young soloists. We might hope that Nikolay Borchev would have sounded a little more weighty as Tobit, the blind father, but he brings pathos and sympathy to what could have seemed a dry character. His opening aria, Ah tu m’ascolta, oh Dio appropriately invokes sympathy for a man who seems to have lost all sympathisers on earth. Similarly Anders J. Dahlin is perhaps less forthcoming than we would expect from the hero of the story, but he brings a wonderfully mellifluous tone to the character of Tobias himself, from his first aria upon his return to his parental home, until the final miracle when his father is healed. The outstanding contributions, however, come from the three women soloists. Anna, Tobias’ aged mother, is characterfully sung by Ann Hallenberg. Her rich, fruity mezzo is perfect for the tone of despair the character needs at the opening, and she lightens her tone admirably when the mood of the piece turns more joyful in Part 2. Listen to her exciting opening aria (CD1, Track 4) and you will see how Haydn can create instant interest in the character, as well as how seemingly easily Hallenberg copes with it. Her nightmare aria is Part 2 is thrilling. Sophie Karthäuser tailors her tone to handle Tobias’ virtuous and dutiful wife, Sara. Most admirable of all, however, is Roberta Invernizzi, singing the role of Raphael. The angel is given appropriately difficult, often stratospheric music and Invernizzi sings it with flawless coloratura and effortless command of the technique.
The chorus seems totally convinced by this work and they throw themselves into their parts as if they were singing opera, which it often feels like they are. Two moments to watch out for: their fugal chorus that ends Part One is particularly exciting, and their stormy Part 2 chorus, Svanisce in un momento was resurrected by Haydn as his concert motet Insanae et vanae curae. The Capella Augustina, a period ensemble founded by Andreas Spering himself, plays this music as if it were written for it, and the chamber textures that Haydn is fond of using sound perfectly judged. Listen to Sarah’s Part 2 aria, Non parmi esser fra gl’uomini for a good example of how well orchestra and soloists blend. Spering holds the whole thing together with assured control, but also a sense of spontaneity, as if the music is unfolding in precisely the correct manner. This CD is a welcome addition to the catalogue, and something worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period. Three cheers to Naxos for choosing to give it such a distinguished outing on CD. The booklet contains commentary, synopsis and Italian texts, but no translations.
-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International
The Creation
Although The Creation is no stranger to period-instrument performance, two in particular spring to mind as particularly outstanding. The first of these is Christopher Hogwood's on L'Oiseau-Lyre, which is in English and remains the only version to assemble the huge forces for which Haydn actually wrote, with singularly thrilling results. Second, there is Hengelbrock on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, who demonstrated that at least on recordings the music can sound just as big and colorful, but without extensive doubling of instrumental parts. In his version of The Seasons, René Jacobs accomplished a similar feat, and so does this newcomer, even outdoing Hengelbrock in wringing every last drop of color from Haydn's perennially fresh orchestration. All of the other period performances, including Brüggen, Weil, Harnoncourt (twice), Kuijken, and Gardiner, stand at some remove from these three.
Andreas Spering has a lot going for him right from the beginning: crack vocal and instrumental forces, a strong lineup of soloists, and an excellent German radio production that sounds fabulous...This account of Chaos must stand as the most creepy and desolate on disc, the music still truly revolutionary and modern even at this late date. Spering takes time to make every detail tell: the sudden brass interjections, the startling clarinet run leading to the recapitulation, the muted strings and soloistic writing for timpani. Spering rightly treats the piece Romantically, allowing plenty of opportunities for rhetorical emphasis, as at the thrilling eruption of light and the ensuing recitative, taken a bit slower and more grandly than usual. But there's nothing mannered or unduly exaggerated: everything is dictated by the sense of the text. The chorus obviously relishes the words and sings as though they really mean something.
There are too many outstanding details to list completely. The concluding choruses of all three parts combine blazing brass with exceptional contrapuntal clarity. Sunhae Im and Hanno Müller-Brachmann make a charming Adam and Eve. The latter hasn't the steadiest of baritone voices, particularly in his lower register (as I noted in his recent recording of Bach's B minor Mass for Naxos), but he does surprisingly well in Raphael's big Part 2 aria "Nun scheint in vollem Glanze der Himmel", and tenor Jan Kobow turns in an excellent "In Native Worth" (as it's known in English). Spering somehow manages to play the living daylights out of the great duet with chorus at the center of Part 3, which Tovey called the greatest single movement that Haydn ever wrote, without making an anti-climax out of the following Adam and Eve duet and the big closing ensemble, with its dazzling coloratura "Amens". In short, from just about every possible standpoint, this is as fine a performance of this work as I hope to hear, one that at every turn reveals the miraculously undying youthfulness of Haydn's inspiration. Now on to the The Seasons, please!
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Il ritorno di Tobia (The Return of Tobias)
A welcome addition … worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period.
This is a real find and a welcome addition to the Naxos catalogue. Haydn is justifiably famous for his oratorios The Seasons and The Creation. The latter has been recorded by these artists for Naxos to great acclaim. Now Andreas Spering and his Capella Augustina have unearthed Haydn’s first, all but forgotten oratorio, The Return of Tobias. The apocryphal subject of Tobias and the angel was extraordinarily popular in Haydn’s Vienna when he was composing this work, and he chose to home in on the section of the story when Tobias (Tobia) returns from his long absence from home and, with the help of his friend Asaria, aka the Archangel Raphael in disguise, cures his father’s blindness. Haydn takes this as an opportunity to create an oratorio which, while not as pacy or fast-moving as The Seasons and The Creation, contains much of beauty, and some very virtuosic singing for both chorus and soloists. Popular as the Tobias legend was in 1775, however, it quickly fell out of favour. It was furthermore felt that Haydn’s oratorio was too long (nearly 3 hours) and difficult to be easily revived so it fell out of favour and has barely been heard since. Length is less of an issue when you listen at home and, thankfully, the artists involved here make this difficult score seem all but effortless.
The first accolades have to go to the young soloists. We might hope that Nikolay Borchev would have sounded a little more weighty as Tobit, the blind father, but he brings pathos and sympathy to what could have seemed a dry character. His opening aria, Ah tu m’ascolta, oh Dio appropriately invokes sympathy for a man who seems to have lost all sympathisers on earth. Similarly Anders J. Dahlin is perhaps less forthcoming than we would expect from the hero of the story, but he brings a wonderfully mellifluous tone to the character of Tobias himself, from his first aria upon his return to his parental home, until the final miracle when his father is healed. The outstanding contributions, however, come from the three women soloists. Anna, Tobias’ aged mother, is characterfully sung by Ann Hallenberg. Her rich, fruity mezzo is perfect for the tone of despair the character needs at the opening, and she lightens her tone admirably when the mood of the piece turns more joyful in Part 2. Listen to her exciting opening aria (CD1, Track 4) and you will see how Haydn can create instant interest in the character, as well as how seemingly easily Hallenberg copes with it. Her nightmare aria is Part 2 is thrilling. Sophie Karthäuser tailors her tone to handle Tobias’ virtuous and dutiful wife, Sara. Most admirable of all, however, is Roberta Invernizzi, singing the role of Raphael. The angel is given appropriately difficult, often stratospheric music and Invernizzi sings it with flawless coloratura and effortless command of the technique.
The chorus seems totally convinced by this work and they throw themselves into their parts as if they were singing opera, which it often feels like they are. Two moments to watch out for: their fugal chorus that ends Part One is particularly exciting, and their stormy Part 2 chorus, Svanisce in un momento was resurrected by Haydn as his concert motet Insanae et vanae curae. The Capella Augustina, a period ensemble founded by Andreas Spering himself, plays this music as if it were written for it, and the chamber textures that Haydn is fond of using sound perfectly judged. Listen to Sarah’s Part 2 aria, Non parmi esser fra gl’uomini for a good example of how well orchestra and soloists blend. Spering holds the whole thing together with assured control, but also a sense of spontaneity, as if the music is unfolding in precisely the correct manner. This CD is a welcome addition to the catalogue, and something worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period. Three cheers to Naxos for choosing to give it such a distinguished outing on CD. The booklet contains commentary, synopsis and Italian texts, but no translations.
-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International
A Cello Galaxy of British Women Composers
Divine Art
CD
$18.99
Jun 20, 2025
Extraordinary works by British Women composers, brought to light by cellist Catherine Wilmers In A Cello Galaxy of British Women Composers, Catherine Wilmers brings to light an extraordinary collection of works by British women presenting us with twelve premiere recordings. Drawing on diligent research, Wilmers unearths strikingly original compositions presenting us with premiere recordings by Amy Elsie Horrocks, Ethel Barns, Elizabeth Poston, Joan Trimble, Dora Bright, Susan Spain Dunk, and Sarah Rodgers, whose Mountain Airs was written for the cellist. Some of these works lay forgotten in the archives of the Royal Academy of Music, their potential stifled by societal limitations rather than artistic merit. The album is more than a rediscovery-it is a testament to the resilience and artistry of these composers. The satisfyingly detailed liner notes reveal the challenges they faced, often in their own words or through the prejudices of their time. As late as the 1920s, the critic Cecil Gray echoed Dr Johnson's notorious remark: 'A woman's composing is like a dog walking on it's hind legs; it is not done well but you are surprised to see it done at all.' Such dismissals only fuel the need to champion these voices today. Wilmers' deep connection to this repertoire is evident in every performance, matched sensitively by accompanying pianist, Jill Morton. A former cellist with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, Catherine Wilmers has long questioned why so few works by women have entered the standard repertoire. This album is part of her answer-a luminous and long-overdue celebration of their music.
Humperdinck: Music for the Stage / Salvi, Malmo Opera Orchestra
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Nov 27, 2020
Engelbert Humperdinck won a worldwide reputation through his application of Wagnerian techniques to folk music in Hänsel und Gretel. But he wrote far more widely for the stage than is acknowledged, and this selection focuses on long overlooked works that reveal Humperdinck’s flair for romance, comedy and innovation. These include music for one of the first full-color silent films, the spectacular Das Wunder (1912); the passionate, ethereal small cantata Die Wallfahrt nach Kevlaar; the rich antique flavor of Lysistrata; as well as his dance-saturated and serenely beautiful incidental music for Der Kaufmann von Venedig. Dario Salvi is a Scottish-Italian conductor, musicologist and researcher who specializes in the restoration and performance of rare works. His passion is the rediscovery and performance of long-forgotten masterpieces by the likes of Suppé, Meyerbeer, Rumshinsky, Genée, Auber, and many others. He is collaborating with Naxos on recording a series on Romantic ballets, including works by Minkus, Pugni, Adam and others, and a series on Auber’s overtures and orchestral music. Two other important projects include recording the last three missing operas by Johann Strauss II and three never before recorded operatic works by Giacomo Meyerbeer.
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REVIEWS:
These incidental scores are a real find. They show that Humperdinck was far more than a one work wonder and is surely overlooked among the large number of turn-of-the-century composers who were able to turn out such highly melodic scores. The one real rarity here is the suite arranged from Das Wunder – the first full-colour silent film, made in 1912.
– Lark Reviews
Think of Humperdinck and Hänsel und Gretel immediately springs to mind, and if you dig a little bit deeper, Königskinder. Of course, he was far more prolific than that, and clearly had a rare talent for melody, vocal setting and orchestration. He is regarded as being a disciple of Wagner rather than a composer who forged a unique path, although I was interested to discover that he was the first composer to use Sprechgesang - a vocal technique halfway between singing and speaking, in Königskinder.
This most welcome, well-filled CD gives us a broad cross-section of his music for the stage. It starts with the prelude to Act II of the unknown opera Die Heirat wider Willen (The Forced Marriage), which opens with huge Wagnerian chords leading to more complex passages which quieten to harp chords then return to the opening. It is highly effective, and is probably the most instantly impactive music on the disc.
It is followed by his incidental music to the play Der Kaufman von Venedig (The Merchant of Venice). There are seven sections, the longest being the accompaniment to Act V Scene 1, “The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees”.
At over ten minutes, it is as long as the previous six episodes put together, and, perhaps unsurprisingly given the word painting to inspire him, Humperdinck produces some magical orchestral effects, employing the harp lavishly to illustrate the moon (with a gentle horn accompanying the harp); the same combination is used at the outset, as the lovers begin their conversation. It is the sort of luscious orchestral sound which lulls one into floating along with it. There are vocal parts in the earlier sections, nicely sung by the tenor, soprano and contralto. The next longest scene at just under four minutes is the masked procession. Once again, the composer uses the harp quite prominently when the music quietens. As with all such incidental music, very short sections (three of the seven are each under one minute) can lead to a rather bitty impression, but Humperdinck manages to keep one’s interest - for example, the Casket Song (soprano, chorus, orchestra and harp again) is a 2:45 highlight.
Das Wunder (The Wonder), is music he composed for a British silent film from 1912 made in colour(!). It was presented at the Royal Opera House in 1912, the film being projected on to a screen with the full orchestra and chorus accompanying. The suite here begins with a prelude for solo organ, leading into a Procession and Children’s Dance, which begins with grand pageantry then quietens down for a rustic dance. The longest sections are the last two, the March of the Army and the Death Motif and the Christmas Scene and Finale. The first is quite memorable with flutes, piccolos, fifes and drums, leading to portentous brass chords for the Death Motif. The Christmas music and finale form a much more serene, ten-minute affair, with the orchestra producing a chiming effect for Christmas bells without orchestral bells being employed. I don’t think that the whole piece shows Humperdinck at his most memorable, but it is enjoyable, nonetheless.
Die Wallfahrt nach Kevlaar – Ballade (The Pilgrimage to Kevlaar) is a setting of three poems by Heinrich Heine, and Humperdinck uses soprano, tenor and chorus with orchestra. The songs tell of a journey made by a mother and her sick son to the shrine of The Virgin Mary at Kevelaer. The first song – At the Window stands the Mother - is a 3’30” narrative between soprano and tenor with the chorus commenting leading to an impressive, very Wagnerian crescendo, followed by the soloists combining with the chorus in a long, sustained note at the end. The second song, at just over seven minutes, depicts the visit to the shrine with a processional quality which slowly gathers strength. The tenor sings some very passionate music, somewhat reminiscent of Tanhauser’s Rome Narration, in which the boy and his mother are described. The last section at 4’33” – The Sick Son and the Mother – describes the death of the child, and, as one might expect, is duly solemn. The horn accompanies the soprano in dramatic declamation as the boy dies, and the chorus provide a swelling epilogue, with the soprano and harp softening things in a brief threnody at the very end. The work is set in a most sympathetic manner by Humperdinck.
The CD ends with his incidental music to Aristophanes’ Lysistrata. The composer tries to capture the antique nature of the play through his instrumentation, but even so we can hear Tristan during an extended cor-anglais solo. It is an attractive short suite.
As I mentioned at the outset, I have found this CD to be a welcome issue, and the last three items are all world premiere recordings. The booklet is informative about the composer and the music, and although texts to the sung parts are not provided, they are available from the Naxos website.
The performances are excellent in every respect, as we have come to expect from Malmö, and the recording is well balanced and natural.
– MusicWeb International (Jim Westhead)
-----
REVIEWS:
These incidental scores are a real find. They show that Humperdinck was far more than a one work wonder and is surely overlooked among the large number of turn-of-the-century composers who were able to turn out such highly melodic scores. The one real rarity here is the suite arranged from Das Wunder – the first full-colour silent film, made in 1912.
– Lark Reviews
Think of Humperdinck and Hänsel und Gretel immediately springs to mind, and if you dig a little bit deeper, Königskinder. Of course, he was far more prolific than that, and clearly had a rare talent for melody, vocal setting and orchestration. He is regarded as being a disciple of Wagner rather than a composer who forged a unique path, although I was interested to discover that he was the first composer to use Sprechgesang - a vocal technique halfway between singing and speaking, in Königskinder.
This most welcome, well-filled CD gives us a broad cross-section of his music for the stage. It starts with the prelude to Act II of the unknown opera Die Heirat wider Willen (The Forced Marriage), which opens with huge Wagnerian chords leading to more complex passages which quieten to harp chords then return to the opening. It is highly effective, and is probably the most instantly impactive music on the disc.
It is followed by his incidental music to the play Der Kaufman von Venedig (The Merchant of Venice). There are seven sections, the longest being the accompaniment to Act V Scene 1, “The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees”.
At over ten minutes, it is as long as the previous six episodes put together, and, perhaps unsurprisingly given the word painting to inspire him, Humperdinck produces some magical orchestral effects, employing the harp lavishly to illustrate the moon (with a gentle horn accompanying the harp); the same combination is used at the outset, as the lovers begin their conversation. It is the sort of luscious orchestral sound which lulls one into floating along with it. There are vocal parts in the earlier sections, nicely sung by the tenor, soprano and contralto. The next longest scene at just under four minutes is the masked procession. Once again, the composer uses the harp quite prominently when the music quietens. As with all such incidental music, very short sections (three of the seven are each under one minute) can lead to a rather bitty impression, but Humperdinck manages to keep one’s interest - for example, the Casket Song (soprano, chorus, orchestra and harp again) is a 2:45 highlight.
Das Wunder (The Wonder), is music he composed for a British silent film from 1912 made in colour(!). It was presented at the Royal Opera House in 1912, the film being projected on to a screen with the full orchestra and chorus accompanying. The suite here begins with a prelude for solo organ, leading into a Procession and Children’s Dance, which begins with grand pageantry then quietens down for a rustic dance. The longest sections are the last two, the March of the Army and the Death Motif and the Christmas Scene and Finale. The first is quite memorable with flutes, piccolos, fifes and drums, leading to portentous brass chords for the Death Motif. The Christmas music and finale form a much more serene, ten-minute affair, with the orchestra producing a chiming effect for Christmas bells without orchestral bells being employed. I don’t think that the whole piece shows Humperdinck at his most memorable, but it is enjoyable, nonetheless.
Die Wallfahrt nach Kevlaar – Ballade (The Pilgrimage to Kevlaar) is a setting of three poems by Heinrich Heine, and Humperdinck uses soprano, tenor and chorus with orchestra. The songs tell of a journey made by a mother and her sick son to the shrine of The Virgin Mary at Kevelaer. The first song – At the Window stands the Mother - is a 3’30” narrative between soprano and tenor with the chorus commenting leading to an impressive, very Wagnerian crescendo, followed by the soloists combining with the chorus in a long, sustained note at the end. The second song, at just over seven minutes, depicts the visit to the shrine with a processional quality which slowly gathers strength. The tenor sings some very passionate music, somewhat reminiscent of Tanhauser’s Rome Narration, in which the boy and his mother are described. The last section at 4’33” – The Sick Son and the Mother – describes the death of the child, and, as one might expect, is duly solemn. The horn accompanies the soprano in dramatic declamation as the boy dies, and the chorus provide a swelling epilogue, with the soprano and harp softening things in a brief threnody at the very end. The work is set in a most sympathetic manner by Humperdinck.
The CD ends with his incidental music to Aristophanes’ Lysistrata. The composer tries to capture the antique nature of the play through his instrumentation, but even so we can hear Tristan during an extended cor-anglais solo. It is an attractive short suite.
As I mentioned at the outset, I have found this CD to be a welcome issue, and the last three items are all world premiere recordings. The booklet is informative about the composer and the music, and although texts to the sung parts are not provided, they are available from the Naxos website.
The performances are excellent in every respect, as we have come to expect from Malmö, and the recording is well balanced and natural.
– MusicWeb International (Jim Westhead)
Saint-Saens: Complete Piano Works Vol 2 / Geoffrey Burleson
Grand Piano
CD
$19.99
May 29, 2012
SAINT-SAËNS Allegro after the Third Concerto. Suite, op. 90. Allegro appassionato, op. 70. Thème varié, op. 97. 6 Fugues, op. 161 • Geoffrey Burleson (pn) • GRAND PIANO 605 (53:38)
The piano works of Saint-Saëns are some of the forgotten gems in the pianist’s possible repertoire. Being that the composer was one of the finest pianists in the second half of the 19th century, not only is the music well written for the instrument, it is, at its best, some of the composer’s most finessed and engaging. The current program features pieces written throughout the composer’s career, from the virtuosic transcription of the concerto movement and the Thème varié —both written for piano contests—to the more lighthearted and neoclassical suite. In general, Saint-Saëns’s music necessitates a virtuosic technique; he requires the pianist to maintain lucid textures, careful pedaling, sparkling passagework, and meticulous attention to articulation. In general, Geoffrey Burleson does an admirable job handling all of the many inherent difficulties of this music—just a quick glance at the theme and variations is enough to scare most pianists. What feels right about this program, moreover, is that the pieces are arranged in a way that makes one feel that one is listening to a recital, rather than just a second installment of the complete piano works of this composer. (This volume is just that. The first in the series was reviewed by Lynn René Bayley in Fanfare 35:6.)
The hyper-virtuosic Allegro, op. 29, opens the program. Though Burleson becomes a bit too heavy in some instances and dry in others (a little more pedal here and there might have helped in bringing out details of shifted orchestration on the piano) one can hardly complain about such a fine reading otherwise. The suite, while lighter in mood, contains some very fine moments, from the improvisatory-sounding Prelude to the lively and bouncy Gavotte. Burleson obviously relishes this little masterpiece. The real stars of this program for me, however, are the Thème varié and the fugues. Burleson does a fine job of maintaining a feeling of pulse throughout the entire op. 97, from the simple chorale theme to the more complex figuration in the variations—double notes, arpeggios, octaves, leaps, and the like! The pianist (who is also the author of some fine booklet notes) describes the Six Fugues, op. 161, as “a suite of dynamic character pieces.” I couldn’t agree more. Though one can play them as simple academic etudes, whether studies in composition or instrumental technique, Burleson shows them to be true musical masterpieces, from the quasi-prelude first, through the sprightly and lively third, to the longest and climactic final one. Indeed, performing them as a set just makes sense here. And with performances of these fugues as engaging as the music itself, one can only hope that this release may spur more pianists to play this music. As there is little competition in this repertoire, I am surely glad to add such a fine release to my collection. If you do not know this music, go out and grab this recording. Saint-Saëns is not one to disappoint.
FANFARE: Scott Noriega
MOZART JUBILEE EDITION / VARIOUS
ELOQUENCE AUSTRALIA
CD
$97.49
Oct 10, 2025
A gallery of Mozart performances from the mid-1950s, including many forgotten and newly remastered recordings. Deutsche Grammophon marked the 200th anniversary of Mozart's birth in 1956 with a 6LP 'Jubilee Edition'. Three 'evenings' of orchestral, chamber and vocal music drew on DG's most experienced and dynamic Mozartians, from Ferenc Fricsay and Clara Haskil to Maria Stader and Igor Markevitch. This is now republished complete for the first time, and expanded to three times it's original length, including many other fine Mozart recordings made at the time such as the pianists Mieczyslaw Horszowski and Helmut Roloff in concertos; Bernhard Paumgartner in one of Mozart's most substantial Salzburg divertimenti; Fritz Lehmann conducting early symphonies and opera overtures; and much more. While DG was commemorating Mozart in grand style, it's sister label Archiv released many new recordings of the composer which broke new ground either in terms of repertoire or performance style. The Piano Concerto K.414 and the Sonata K.331 were played on rare fortepianos from Mozart's own time. The Vocal Canons - illustrating the composer's ribald humor as well as his family's use of music as a private means of communication - were recorded by the choir of North German radio. Mozart's treasury of song was also documented for the first time, and in delicious performances featuring the soprano Margot Guilleaume and the fortepianist Fritz Neumeyer. In 1956 itself, Archiv released a live performance of the Requiem which had been given at the Stephansdom in December the previous year, on the date of his death, by Eugen Jochum. Issued as a liturgical reconstruction of what the composer's own funeral might have sounded like, this conveys a powerful mood of commemoration thanks to the conducting of Eugen Jochum and a line-up of soloists led by Irmgard Seefried. Many of these Archiv albums have never been reissued in the digital era, until now. They bring valuable context to a gallery of Mozart as he was seen and heard, two centuries after his birth. Drawing on ideas and recollections from several of the artists represented in the box, such as Irmgard Seefried and Wolfgang Paumgartner, the booklet essay by Peter Quantrill is complemented by a range of photographs as well as Original Cover artwork which evokes the mid-1950s.
