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Dvorak: Symphony No. 9; Simon: Four Black American Dances
Reference Recordings · Jul 2026SACD$24.99 -
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Bruno Walter Conducts Bruckner's 4th And 9th Symphonies
Music and Arts Programs of America · Jul 2012CD$32.99 -
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Anton Bruckner: Symphony No. 9 in D Minor
Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 / Vänskä, Minnesota Orchestra
Few works of art - musical or otherwise - are as firmly established in the canon of global culture as Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The sheer size and complexity of it is daunting even today, and at the time of its composition it was a highly revolutionary work. Even so, the audience at the first performance, in 1824, was enthusiastic - as audiences have been ever since. Its appeal has not only stood the test of time, however - the Ninth holds significance for people all over the world, regardless of country: the closest we have to a truly universal piece of music. To record such a work is not a task to take lightly. In preparation for the great occasion, Osmo Vänskä and his Minnesota Orchestra paced themselves by recording two previous discs of Beethoven symphonies, both of which have been greeted with great acclaim. 'It's obvious from the first bars of the Eroica that this is something special... these are great interpretations and a true 21st century take on the music...' wrote the reviewer in Classic FM Magazine of recently released BIS-SACD-1516, while Financial Times' critic stated about the same disc: 'I choose my words carefully when I say this is the best recording of Beethoven symphonies since Carlos Kleiber's with the Vienna Philharmonic a generation ago.' The recording of the Ninth was preceded by three concert performances, and the Minnesota Chorale - one of the finest symphonic choirs in the USA - was meticulously prepared for both concerts and recording. The quartet of soloists has been handpicked and gives a final edge to this huge ensemble in the final movement's Ode to Joy, filling it with all the excitement that this exciting music invites. About a previous disc the critic of the web site Classics Today wrote: 'There's no question that Osmo Vänskä is a true Beethoven conductor.' There is also no question that Vänskä's account of the greatest of the Beethoven symphonies is something that must be experienced!
Dvorak: Symphony No 9, Serenade For Strings / Ormandy Et Al
Ormandy certainly coaxes playing of great character and spontaneity out of the 60s vintage LSO. The strings throughout have marvellous bite and cohesion. Sample the soaring violins at 3.32 in the first movement, or the rich cellos and basses later in the same movement. Ormandy seems fairly content to play things ‘straight’, which suits me to a degree, though some conductors, most notably Kubelik (DG) and Kondrashin (Decca), are willing to take a few more risks to bring out the life and drama beneath the notes. Nevertheless, Ormandy makes sure that precision and adherence to the score is paramount, and this brings many rewards. The great Largo is never sentimentalised, and the Scherzo has real flair and panache, with the LSO wind particularly fine. The Finale has a sense of grandeur and breadth that is very satisfying, and while there may be more individual accounts in the catalogue, this performance has a lot going for it.
Kempe’s unforced, eloquent reading of the wonderful Serenade also has its own special magic. He takes a relaxed view of the opening, shaping the lyrical first theme in a slow, affectionate way that then contrasts with the slightly sharper rhythmic point for the second subject. There is real concentration in every bar, and though the Munich strings may not be world class, they respond enthusiastically to their great conductor. The Valse movement has a lovely lilt, as well as dramatic impulse, and the engaging Scherzo is matched by the warmth of the Larghetto. I’ve heard the Finale played with a touch more Slavonic bite and precision, but Kempe keeps a firm grip on proceedings and achieves a genuinely exciting climax. The recording is also warmer and slightly more focused than the older Ormandy.
This disc enters a very crowded field but has its rewards. I found myself hearing details in both performances that marked them out, and anyone who is more interested in genuine music-making rather than state-of–the-art sound will not be disappointed.
-- Tony Haywood, MusicWeb International
BEETHOVEN: THE 9 SYMPHONIES
Beethoven was Wilhelm Furtwängler's guiding musical force. In his interpretations of the symphonies, the conductor generates irresistible dramatic momentum - and a constant sense of imaginative freshness - through the interrelationship of form, harmony, texture, rhythm and tempo. These recordings, all made in the late 1940s and early 1950s, in the Musikverein in Vienna and at concerts in London, Bayreuth and Stockholm, have been remastered in 192kHz/24-bit at Art & Son Studio (in 2021 for the 7 recordings included in The Complete Wilhelm Furtwängler on Records and newly for this edition for the 3 other ones), bringing their sound more alive than ever before and for the first time here on a physical medium.
As a bonus the 5th Symphony live performance from 1950 in Copenhagen restored in HD from an excellent condition analogue source has been added.
Schubert: Symphony No. 9 "Great" / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony
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REVIEW:
Mariss Jansons presides over an uncommonly engaging performance of Schubert’s uplifting ‘Great’ C major symphony. This is great music-making of unshakable conviction.
– MusicWeb International
Dvorak: Symphony No. 9; Simon: Four Black American Dances
Mahler: Symphony No. 9 / Rattle, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
Named Gramophone Magazine Editor's Choice for December 2022!
For the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, the performances on November 26 and 27, 2021 in the Isarphilharmonie marked the beginning of a new chapter in its Mahler interpretation: with its designated new principal conductor Simon Rattle, the orchestra is now headed by a Mahler admirer every bit as ardent as his predecessors Mariss Jansons, Lorin Maazel, and Rafael Kubelík. The musicians dedicated the benefit concert on November 26 to the memory of conductor Bernard Haitink, who died in October 2021 and was associated with the renowned orchestra for 61 years. The very long silence after the final chord was one of those “goosebumps moments” that one goes to concerts for – and for which music is made in the first place.
Gustav Mahler’s Ninth Symphony, in particular, is understood as the composer’s reaction to a heart ailment that was diagnosed shortly before he wrote the first drafts in the summer of 1908. He was in deep despair, but still scarcely aware of how few years he actually had left to live. With Mahler, it was always in and through music that he tried to come to terms with his life experiences and such topics as farewell, the meaning of existence, death, redemption, life after death and love. He wrote his Ninth Symphony in Dobbiaco, in a kind of creative frenzy, between 1909 and 1910. Its premiere took place in Vienna on June 26, 1912, when the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra performed the work under Bruno Walter. Mahler did not witness the premiere of his last completed work – he had already died on May 18, 1911.
REVIEW:
I would rank Rattle's performance here with the best of the competition and would add that even the classic recordings of Bernstein, Giulini, and Karajan have no significant advantage over Rattle's. In the end Rattle would be my top choice among newer versions and probably the equal of the classic performances on disc.
-- MusicWeb International (Robert Cummings)
If he has always shown very sensitive affinities with Symphony No. 9, Simon Rattle delivers his most accomplished recording to the Bavarian Radio. Recorded live between November 24 and 27, 2021, at the Isarphilharmonie im Gasteig in Munich by Winfried Messmer, [this] powerful orchestral mass presents both great volume and precise definition of timbre and range.
-- Diapason (citation for a Diapason d'or)
The Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and its designated principal conductor dedicated one of the two concerts used for this recording to the conductor Bernard Haitink, who died in October 2021. It is a great tribute to this outstanding Mahler conductor, and Rattle once again proves what a major Mahler interpreter he is as well.
Right in the first movement, he succeeds in drawing the whole Mahler world in its gripping originality with magnificent breath. Rising and collapse are always close together, and the exciting alternation between tension and release is maintained throughout the symphony. At the same time, this reading is not lacking in sensuality. There is both lyrical beauty, full of abyss, and the light-hearted (and artfully illuminated) play of sound and movement. The three-movement back-and-forth of emotions leads to the Adagio finale, which Rattle conducts thoughtfully and in moderate tempo. The music dies away in a deeply moving 24 minutes with nostalgia, sadness and also some thoughts of hope.
The orchestra is brilliantly disposed and fascinates with both differentiated coloration and the greatest possible transparency. Under Rattle’s direction, Mahler, the orchestral musicians, and he himself merge into a single instrument.
-- Pizzicato
Superbly played and recorded, from November last year (Isarphilharmonie im Gasteig), a memorial concert for Bernard Haitink, Sir Simon’s third recording (following Birmingham and Vienna, both EMI/Warner) of Mahler Nine sports a first movement, if not without a few cosmetic touches, that is a flowing and feisty affair, defiant, better to be alive than not, with impassioned fortissimos, and only in the concluding few minutes does the music issue calmness as well as bittersweet sentiments, although it seems too sudden as well as much too soon – bearing in mind how the Symphony will end, spare and fading to nothingness. The second movement, with its competing waltz and ländler, has its tempo contrasts well-managed, but is perhaps a little too manicured – it needs to be rougher, more rustic and pesante. Poker-faced sophistication suits the ensuing ‘Rondo-Burleske’, its counterpoint wonderfully clear (antiphonal violins swirl either side of the podium) albeit greater bite is sometimes required, and it’s a surprise that Rattle doesn’t linger more in the central section (his is a tempo-related ‘trio’), and the conclusion is thrillingly fast and rendered with A+ virtuosity – the abyss awaits. The final Adagio follows more or less attacca (I can vouch for such a joining from an LSO concert years ago) and is a dignified if intense leave-taking, powerful (vibrant strings, eloquent woodwinds) and ethereal, with a cathartic climax and a hypnotically controlled paring down of resources as expression becomes more and more off the radar.
-- Colin's Column
BRUCKNER: SYMPHONY NO. 9 IN D MINOR
Bruckner: Symphony No. 9 / Hruša, Bamberg Symphony
Anton Bruckner 200 (1824-2024)
The sincerity and, at the same time, emotionality of Anton Bruckner's musical thoughts create an inimitable magnetism that makes one 'forget' time in the very best sense of the word. Anyone who wants to approach Bruckner only analytically will find their mind boggled, especially at the first encounter. His great power is a certain 'transcendental charm' that is common to all his symphonies.
In 2024, the music world celebrates the 200th anniversary of Anton Bruckner's birth on September 4, 1824. On this occasion, the Bamberg Symphony - an orchestra well-versed in the interpretation of Bruckner's symphonic cosmos - and their music director Jakub Hruša present a new recording of the composer's last and unfinished symphony, his Ninth.
On 30 November 1894, Bruckner completed the third movement of his Ninth symphony, which, like all of its predecessors, was laid out in four movements. Work on the finale began on 24 May 1895, around 16 months before his death. He composed the first 172 bars of the movement in full, after which the score is at least partially orchestrated for a further 200 bars. Although a playable version of the finale of Bruckner's Symphony No. 9 is now available, in practical life the three-movement torso has become the norm. It seems as if the non-completion paradoxically claims its place. The Austrian critic and musicologist Walter Weidringer wrote that the Ninth 'may be taken as one of those examples from music history that prove that even fragments can display a degree of completion which no longer seems capable of improvement.'
A production of Accentus Music in co-production with BR-KLASSIK.
COLIN DAVIS: BOSTON LEGACY
Bruno Walter Conducts Bruckner's 4th And 9th Symphonies
BRUCKNER Symphonies: No. 4; 1 No. 9. 2 MOZART Symphony No. 35 in D “Haffner” 3 • Bruno Walter, cond; 1 NBC SO. 2 Philadelphia O. 3 New York PO • MUSIC & ARTS CD-1262 (2 CDs: 127:30) Live: 1 02/10/1940, 2 02/28/1948, 3 02/06/1944
Having recently obtained an extensive collection of acetates from the estate of a private music collector, the Music & Arts label is issuing some fruits of that here in the form of live performances by Bruno Walter. Two items—the Bruckner Ninth and the Mozart “Haffner” symphonies—are previously unissued items; the Bruckner Fourth was released on Pearl GEMM CD 9131 but here enjoys slightly but tangibly superior sound. While still constricted, it is tolerably listenable by the standards one would expect for a recording of that vintage. Here the weak bass register is noticeably stronger and clearer, background hiss is slightly reduced, occasional fluctuations in pitch have been evened out, and assorted clicks and pops and similar extraneous noises excised or reduced. However, the Pearl release is still not superfluous, as this issue does not include the filler pieces by Weber and Smetana (the overtures to Oberon and The Bartered Bride ).
While none of these items is, strictly speaking, a novelty in the Walter discography, the performance of the Bruckner Fourth preserved here is of particular interest to both Brucknerians and Walterians. The Walter discography contains only two versions of this score: the live one presented here, and the conductor’s studio recording with the Columbia Symphony Orchestra, recorded from February 13-25, 1960. (The discography of the CSO is complex, because Columbia used that moniker for several different studio orchestras in various locales. In Walter’s case, the monaural recordings are with a reduced contingent of the New York Philharmonic and other local musicians, while his stereo recordings are with a core ensemble drawn from the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Los Angeles Festival Orchestra, supplemented by members of various Hollywood film studio orchestras.) The Sony SMK 64 481 issue of the studio performance is presently available—as are most of the titles in Sony’s erstwhile “Bruno Walter Edition”—as an ArkivMusic reprint.
What is most remarkable is how radically Walter’s conception of this piece changed over 20 years, with the respective timings providing an initial indication: 16:32, 14:32, 8:27, and 18:32 versus 18:40, 15:37, 10:59, and 20:46. Walter does use different editions of the score—the 1888-89 Löwe/Guttmann version in 1940, and the 1936 Haas edition of the 1878/80 version in 1960. (For the 1960 recording I am taking the word of John F. Berky on his abruckner.com discography site over that of Sony, which states in its CD booklet that Walter used the 1953 Nowak edition.) However, this in no way accounts for the differences, as most of them are matters of instrumental detail (e.g., the radically reduced orchestration in the Scherzo at 8:13-8:16 in the 1940 performance as compared to the same passage at 8:20-8:23 in the 1960 recording) rather than cuts in the score. Instead, Walter’s earlier interpretation is far more volatile, not only in terms of significantly faster tempi but also in more generous use of accelerandi and other tempo modifications. For example, in 1940 there is an adrenaline rush on an ascending scale from 1:41 to 1:52 not employed in 1960, while in the fourth movement the 1940 performance takes only a mild ritardando at 8:13 to 8:16 but in 1960 a very emphatic one in the same passage at 8:20 to 8:23. In 1940 the Scherzo movement is taken at an exceptionally brisk pace, whereas in 1960 it is stately, with the trio section being positively languorous. Similarly, whereas in 1960 Walter squares off phrases in the more emphatic manner common to most Bruckner performances nowadays, demarcating discrete units as aural equivalents of the giant stone blocks used to construct Gothic cathedrals, in 1940 the phrasing is noticeably more fluid and linear, particularly in woodwind runs that ripple like rapidly flowing rivulets (cf. at 15:24 in the first movement). How much these changes owe to the oft-noted differences in Walter’s recordings made before and after his March 1957 heart attack, and how much they may owe to the conductor possibly seeking to elaborate greater distinctions between his approaches to Bruckner and Mahler, can only be a subject of speculation. In any case, in these respects the 1940 performance is akin to the relatively few complete Bruckner symphony performances that survive from before WW II, and suggest an earlier school of performance which is now well-nigh extinct. Both for that reason, and for the intriguing snapshot of how Walter’s interpretation of this piece shifted over the years, this recording is of particular interest for collectors of historical performances.
The companion performance in this set of the Bruckner Ninth lacks the same degree of intrinsic value, in that there are eight surviving recorded performances from Walter’s baton, variously given with the New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra, Vienna Philharmonic, Los Angeles Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. The table below provides details for comparison. In this and the succeeding tables, if a particular performance has appeared more than once on CD, I have cited the best version currently in print; studio recordings are marked with an asterisk. For the timings in this instance, I have used those provided by Mark W. Kluge in his notes to the 2003 Music and Arts release of the 1946 performance, except for the 1948 and 1950 performances not listed by him.
FANFARE: Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings
03/17/46 NYP Music & Arts CD-1110 21:42 9:37 19: 42
02/28/48 PO Music & Arts CD-1262 21:19 9:43 19:28
02/02/50 NYP none (private collection) 20:12 9:55 19: 15
08/20/53 VPO Andromeda ANDRCD 9092 21:10 10:09 19:17
12/27/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571 20:32 10:09 19:46
02/10/57 NYP Music & Arts CD-1212 19:59 10:01 19: 14
11/13/59 LAP none (private collection) 22:30 10:53 21: 58
11/16-19/59 CSO Sony SMK 64 483* 23:51 11:29 23:16
As Kluge rightly states in the booklet notes to the 2003 disc of Walter’s 1946 performance, “Walter’s live performances of the Ninth Symphony preserved on tape show a certain consistency, varying in individual nuance rather than interpretive outline”. In the booklet notes to the present release he further observes, “All of his live performances of the score display certain common interpretive details,” of which he provides several examples, such as “the very precise (almost clipped) brass interjections in the opening bars.” Unremarked upon by Kluge, except for a passing observation that the studio account “lacks the fire of Walter’s live performances,” is the extraordinary speed and drive of Walter’s conception of the work, which in the pre-1959 performances clocks in at between 49:22 (the fastest recorded performance by any conductor) and 51:01. Among the almost 400 complete performances listed in the abruckner.com discography, only Volkmar Andreae, Jascha Horenstein, Georg-Ludwig Jochum, Roger Norrington, plus (amazingly) John Barbirolli and Hans Knappertsbusch, have timings within three minutes of Walter. This work alone gives the lie to the stereotype of Walter as a cushy, gentle interpreter given solely to Gemütlichkeit rather than Sturm und Drang.
Despite their overall similarity, the pre-1959 performances do not suffer from lack of variety or interest. With the exception of the live 1959 performance, which stems from a relatively poor source, the sound quality improves incrementally with the more recent performance date, though the sonic differences between the three performances from 1953-57 are rather minimal. For me, the key factor in evaluating the first six performances is Walter’s approach to and follow-through from the fortissimo recapitulation of the first theme of the opening movement, beginning at about halfway through the movement. For the approach to the recapitulation, the recap itself, and the section immediately thereafter, Walter demarcates each of the three sections with a marked caesura and tempo adjustment. There are noticeable differences to how he does this in several of the performances; although these may simply be differences of the moment, they suggest instead that he was not entirely satisfied with his handling of these sections and was constantly searching for new and better solutions. I find the 1946 performance to be the least satisfactory; as the timing of the first movement indicates, Walter there inserts greater pauses and slows down each section more than usual, causing the whole to lose coherency and momentum and to bog down. Walter also takes two major ritardandi early on, at 1:55 and 3:00, that he drops after the 1948 Philadelphia performance, which has a similarly hobbling effect. (For a more positive response, see Robert McColley’s review back in 26:6.) By contrast, the unreleased 1950 performance is the most successful, having a fierce energy and the least pronounced breaks and tempo deceleration.
The three performances from 1948 and 1953 occupy a middle ground between these extremes; here the differences are to be found more in the distinctive timbres of the respective orchestras. In his booklet notes to the 1946 performance, Kluge states that “the warmer style of the Vienna Philharmonic added a sense of plasticity and nuance not as evident in the later [1953] New York performance,” given the latter orchestra’s “virile, even aggressive playing style.” I would agree, but I find a certain slackness present in the Vienna performance as well, and its recorded sound is slightly more recessed. Comparing the New York and Philadelphia ensembles in the present booklet notes, Kluge correctly finds “a contrast in style between the two ensembles. The Philharmonic sonority is bold and brassy, making the most of Bruckner’s dramatic climaxes. However the Philadelphia ensemble, even in its first encounter with the score, adds a patina of refinement”—due no doubt to the orchestra’s fabled string section. Finally, in 1957 Walter attempts a hybrid solution that combines pronounced Luftpausen with his briskest tempi, a solution I prefer to all but the 1950 performance (see also the positive review by Jeffrey J. Lipscomb in 32: 3).
The two 1959 performances are, as their timings indicate, of a very different character—ultimately no less dramatic, but more monumental and in line with the mainstream of Bruckner interpretations, while also evincing the more rounded edges of Walter’s trademark lyricism in other repertoire. Given both the relatively poor sound of the preceding live performance, and some ill-fitting junctures in it that suggest Walter’s new interpretation not to be fully settled, the studio recording is easily preferable between those two. Along with the 1957 performance—and that of 1950, for those few who can find it from private sources—the studio recording is also one of the top choices for Brucknerians who want Walter represented in their collections.
Despite Walter’s intense devotion to Bruckner following his recovery from a near-fatal bout of double pneumonia in 1927 (Walter credited his convalescence with giving him the spiritual repose needed to comprehend Bruckner rightly), many commentators have regarded his studio Bruckner recordings, especially that of the Ninth, as relative weak points in his discography. Devoted Walterian that I am, I nevertheless agree with that assessment; Walter never mastered the timing of the numerous pauses in Bruckner’s symphonic movements, and choosing the manifold subtle shifts in tempi needed to make the sprawling movements cohere, to the same degree as did Wilhelm Furtwängler and Eugen Jochum, my own Bruckner reference standards. Part of the fault here, however, lies not with Walter but with Columbia’s miscalculated decision to use an orchestra of only 65 players for the recording sessions—possibly due to a degree of parsimony, but also because the extremely lively acoustics of Legion Hall would have caused a full-sized orchestra to be swamped with reverberation. The fact that Walter almost fully succeeds in disguising the paucity of string players and producing a genuine Brucknerian orchestral sound testifies to near-miraculous conductorial skills.
The 1948 performance of the Bruckner Ninth in Philadelphia was paired in concert with a performance of Mozart’s “Haffner” Symphony. Since only the Bruckner was broadcast for a one-hour time slot, the performance of the Mozart was not preserved. In its stead, Music and Arts has thoughtfully provided a previously unreleased 1944 New York Philharmonic broadcast of the work. Mozart occupies a large and special place in Walter’s discography. In terms of frequency of surviving performances, the “Haffner” has seven recordings—five live and two studio, with the NBC Symphony, Boston Symphony, New York Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. It thus ranks behind No. 40 (eleven performances, eight live and three studio) and No. 39 (eight recordings, five live and three studio), and is tied with the “Prague” (seven recordings, four live and three studio). The following table again provides details for comparison; note that Tahra misdates the 1953 performance to January 5 instead of January 4.
Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings
02/17/40 NBC SO Andromeda ANDRCD 9012 5:02 4:31 3:10 3: 33
02/06/44 NYP Music and Arts CD-1262 5:15 4:44 3:16 3: 33
01/21/47 BSO Wing WCD 58 (Japan) 5:11 4:29 3:17 3:37
02/05/50 NYP none (private collection) 5:33 5:05 3: 25 3:43
01/04/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571-572 5:29 4:54 3:33 3:55
01/16/53 NYP Sony SMK 64 473* 5:27 4:44 3:21 3:46
01/13-21/59 CSO Sony SM3K 46 511* 5:58 5:13 3:49 4:04
Here one notes that until the final, post-heart attack, stereo recording, Walter’s interpretive approach remains remarkably consistent, broadening very slightly in tempi with the passing years. As before, sound quality generally improves in successive performances, save for the decidedly poor-sounding Boston Symphony issue and the somewhat tubby sound of the unedited source for the 1950 performance. Yet here, too, there are subtle differences, with the 1944 performance under review being the most distinctive. At 1:15 in the first movement, Walter slows the tempo for the lyrical counter-subject to a far greater degree than elsewhere, and likewise beginning at 4:40 accelerates the tempo to a far greater degree to provide a whirlwind close. Not unexpectedly from an ensemble drilled under Toscanini, the NBC performance features particularly strong, crisp accents on chords and fluid runs on strings and winds. The live 1953 performance has a higher voltage than the studio recording that followed it, though it suffers from a rather glassy, shrill treble register (for a different opinion on the last point, see Mortimer H. Frank’s review in 14:4). The stereo recording has of course by far the best sound, but its slower tempi drain it of the vitality characteristic of Walter’s earlier performances. The 1944 performance is in surprisingly good sound for its time, and I would rate it alongside the two 1953 versions as the best of his performances of this work.
The remasterings of the original sources have obviously been done with the meticulous care that marks all Music and Arts issues. Mark Kluge’s booklet notes are exemplary; they include a brief discussion of recent Bruckner scholarship that defends the Löwe/Guttmann edition of the Fourth as one genuinely authorized by Bruckner rather than riding roughshod over his true intentions, and also discuss Walter’s various retouchings of the timpani and brass parts in different performances of the Ninth. (Kluge does not discuss the 1950 performance, but the excision of the trombone parts from certain passages of the Scherzo that occurs in the 1957 and 1959 performances also occurs there, though curiously not in the intervening ones from 1953.) The booklet and tray card have a typographical error that gives the total time of the second disc as 50:30, which is the timing of the Bruckner Ninth alone; the correct total time is 68:20. For Walterians, this release is self-recommending; for Brucknerians and collectors of historic performances, it will be of interest primarily for the Bruckner Fourth, and secondarily for the “Haffner” and the Ninth. To each of these interested parties, this release is warmly recommended.
James A. Altena
Milken Archive - Amram: Symphony, Etc / Wilkins, Et Al
Here we have three works by Philadelphia-born composer and “Renaissance man of American music” (according to the Boston Globe), David Amram (b. 1930). His biography is long and colorful, and, as always, fully documented by Neil Levin’s encyclopedic notes. In a nutshell, Amram has had a mixed musical and cultural background, studying at the Manhattan School of Music under Vitttorio Giannini, Gunther Schuller, and Dimitri Mitropoulos, while simultaneously becoming involved with a number of prominent jazz musicians and ensembles. He has written a considerable amount of music, from incidental scores to Shakespeare plays, Ibsen’s Peer Gynt, Camus’s Caligula, and plays by Eugene O’Neill and T. S. Eliot; to the sound track for an experimental documentary film by Jack Kerouac; to a number of well-known film scores, including Splendor in the Grass, the Manchurian Candidate, and The Young Savages; to over 100 orchestral and chamber works. Amram’s 1987 Symphony, subtitled “Songs of the Soul,” is in some respects similar to Weisgall’s T’kiatot discussed above. Programmatic movement titles notwithstanding, it is a three-movement orchestral score that may be heard as purely abstract music. The work reflects Amram’s interest in authentic Jewish/Oriental ethnic musical modalities. Put that together with the composer’s film-score background, and you have a richly Romantic, exotically perfumed work that could play well as the sound track for a Biblical docudrama. Don’t get me wrong. This is gorgeous sounding music. I’m just trying to describe it and put it into context so you’ll know what to expect. It is performed here by Christopher Wilkin conducting the Berlin Rundfunk Orchestra, in co-production with German Radio and the ROC Berlin.
In 1960, Amram became yet another recipient of one of Cantor Putterman’s commissions to write a liturgical work for his long-running Sabbath Eve Service program. For more information on Putterman and his program, please see the entry under Diamond noted above in Fanfare 27:7. From Amram’s Shir L’erev Shabbat we hear five numbers. According to Neil Levin’s notes, the work was premiered in 1961, but the CD back-flap dates it 1965, perhaps referring to a subsequent performance at the Hebrew Congregation in Washington, DC. Make no mistake about it, Amram is at heart a Romantic composer. The melodic and harmonic language is liberally spiced with 20th-century seasonings, but the idiom remains essentially tonal.
Much the same can be said of the three excerpts heard here from The Final Ingredient (1966), Amram’s second opera. In fact, passages from scene 5, the first of the three excerpts, kept reminding me of the section near the end of Verdi’s Requiem where the solo soprano is set against a cappella choir. The literary reference at least may be an appropriate one in that Amram’s opera is a Holocaust story that tells of the indomitable spirit of a group of Belsen concentration camp inmates determined to observe the ritual of the Passover Seder. The “final ingredient” refers to the egg, one of the items required for the traditional Passover plate, and the one that symbolizes the renewal and continuity of life. As the headnote indicates, a large cast is involved in the production. I hesitate to single out any individual vocal soloist, for all are outstanding, but I will give special mention to Kenneth Kiesler and the University of Michigan Opera Chorus and Orchestra, who do a superb job of cementing together what might otherwise turn unwieldy.
Jerry Dubins, FANFARE
Click here to view all available releases in the Milken Archive Series at ArkivMusic.
Beethoven: The 9 Symphonies / Trevino, Malmö Symphony
This new Beethoven symphony cycle with Malmö Symphony Orchestra is conductor Robert Trevino’s debut release on Ondine. Trevino is one of the fastest rising young conductors and known for his fresh and vivid interpretations of both standard repertoire as well as contemporary works. Trevino is currently holding the tenures as chief conductor of the Malmö Symphony Orchestra and as music director of the Basque National Orchestra. After studies with conductors David Zinman, Seiji Ozawa and Michael Tilson Thomas, Trevino worked closely as Leif Segerstam’s assistant before making his debuts with a number of leading symphony orchestras worldwide. These Beethoven symphonies were recorded in connection with a Beethoven festival which was arranged in Malmö, Sweden in October, 2019.
REVIEW:
It may seem bold and even brash for a relatively young conductor like Robert Trevino to launch a new label relationship with a Beethoven symphony cycle recorded in live performance. Yet he has an obvious affinity for this repertoire, compounded by the Malmö Symphony Orchestra’s polished and responsive music making. Ondine’s engineering captures the orchestra in fine detail without artificial spotlighting, conveying a genuine concert hall ambience.
In a perceptive interview with David Patrick Stearns published as part of this set’s annotations, Trevino cites consultations with David Zinman and Daniel Barenboim concerning interpretive matters. Indeed there’s evidence of Zinman’s chamber-like aesthetic and fast tempos, as well as the power and dynamism distinguishing Barenboim’s great Berlin Staatskapelle Beethoven symphony cycle. But Trevino goes his own way, with variable results.
His brisk outer movements in Symphony No. 1 are akin to Toscanini’s opera buffa approach, particularly in the Allegro con brio development section’s playful woodwind repartée. Certain phrases in the Minuet push ever-so-slightly ahead of the beat, yet remain securely locked in, ensemble-wise. In No. 2, Trevino effects an assiduous transition between the Adagio introduction and an enchantingly rollicking Allegro con brio. For all its suppleness of execution, I prefer the more pointed string articulation in Paavo Järvi’s similarly conceived traversal. The controlled delicacy in the Larghetto’s softer music makes this movement sound faster than its actual duration, although it’s on the square side when compared alongside the more robust and inflected Harnoncourt reading.
Trevino undersells the cross-rhythmic sforzandos in the Eroica symphony’s first movement, while the exposition’s basic tempo gradually spreads and slows down: not a lot, but the energy flags. Trevino’s Funeral March is as eloquent and moving as the catalog’s best versions. The conductor accelerates for the Fughetta, yet the carefully layered counterpoint and tremendous dynamic build reflect the music’s shattering intent. The Scherzo has all of Szell/Cleveland’s surface perfection, minus its nervous energy, while the finale variations brilliantly showcase the Mälmo woodwinds’ proficiency.
Trevino largely underplays No. 4. The opening Adagio’s blended string and woodwind passages are super clear but lack the foreboding aura of Thomas Fey’s marked dynamic contrasts and stinging accents. The slow movement’s two-note phrases are not as well-defined as in the Bruno Walter/Columbia Symphony recording.
Some may find No. 5’s first movement overly driven, yet Trevino’s attention to linear interplay never derails. If the Andante con moto doesn’t aspire to Beethoven’s “dolce” directive, notice the uncommon clarity of the upper strings’ staccato 32nd notes. The Scherzo’s clipped detaché tuttis and difficult cello/bass fugal entrance in the Trio are appropriately forceful, while the Allegro finale mirrors the first movement’s relentless momentum.
In the Pastorale, Trevino emulates Zinman’s transparency and fast tempos, but with more distinctive first-desk soloists. The bird-call intimations in the second movement are deliciously shaped, but the fourth-movement storm doesn’t break out into a Klempererian or Kleiberian torrent.
No. 7’s fast-paced outer movements border on glibness, missing the force and drama with which Barenboim/Berlin Staatskapelle, Wand/NDR, the first Solti/Chicago, and Carlos Kleiber/Bavarian State Radio Orchestra grab you by the jugular, figuratively speaking.
Trevino’s first-movement tricks in No. 8 don’t quite work, such as a diminuendo in the opening phrase that telegraphs the subito piano that follows, plus odd accelerandos here and there. The conductor gives short shrift to the cross-rhythmic accents, and to the cellos and basses who carry the melodic burden in the transition leading into the recapitulation. The Allegretto’s woodwind gurgles are recessed to polite effect, when they ought to be in your face. The rollicking finale stands out for deft interplay between orchestral strands, yet the similarly lithe Haitink/London Symphony recording proves more incisive in every respect.
Trevino maintains the basic tempo of No. 9’s first movement with little modification, and makes expressive points solely through variety of articulation and specificity of phrasing. The Scherzo’s vibrantly shaped Trio compensates for the main section’s coolness and lack of fervency. In the briskly reserved Adagio, the decorative string passages still manage to sing out and breathe. And the “Ode to Joy” finale benefits from fine singing and “centrist” tempos that are intelligently unified and not too fast nor too slow.
The conductor observes all repeats, eschews the traditional brass reinforcements in the Ninth’s Scherzo, and opts for the trumpets continuing their phrases in the Eroica first-movement coda. If this Beethoven cycle falls short of our reference versions’ consistent satisfaction and seasoned authority, Robert Trevino’s stylish flair, astute musicianship, and good taste are never in doubt.
– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)
INTRODUCTION TO DER RING DES NIBELUNGEN
AAFJE HEYNIS EDITION
Mendelssohn: Symphony No. 2 "Lobgesang"
Siegfried Wagner: Der Kobold / Strobel, Broberg, Horn, Et Al
S. WAGNER Der Kobold • Frank Strobel, cond; Rebecca Broberg ( Verena ); Regina Mauel ( Gertrud ); Andreas Mitschke ( Ekhart ); Achim Hoffmann ( Trutz ); Johannes Föttinger ( Fink ); Philipp Meierhöfer ( Kümmel ); Volker Horn ( Friedrich ); Nicholas Isherwood ( Der Graf ); Martina Borst ( Die Gräfin ); Ksenija Lukic ( Jeannette ); Marco Bappert ( Jean ); Joachim Höchbauer ( Knorz ); Heike Kohler ( Käthe ); Young Jae Park ( Seelchen ); PPP Music Theatre Ens; Nuremberg SO • Marco Polo 8.225329 (3 CDs: 195:27)
Each time I listen to this recording of The Goblin , I am utterly unnerved—do not be fooled by the descending flute figures that cue the overture, like Pan himself coming down to bless the land. Obviously, there is no shortage of warped and twisted librettos, which tend to serve as jumping off points for music yet more warped and twisted, but my goodness, our man Siegfried was exorcising some personal demons with this work—ironically, by enlivening some.
The first “sung” note, once the gentle, autumnal instrumental opening has concluded, is a scream, one that comes through on the recording like a spike—no reverb, no vibrato, just fear, hammered home. We are dealing with a dramatis personae of goblins (including one whose entrance into the world comes courtesy of a mixture of a hanged man’s seed and the yellow grass below), a wizard, some assassins, night phantoms, a few satyrs, a circus collective, a rapist, and such cheery pursuits as infanticide, abortion, flesh trading, and prestidigitation for, shall we say, less than salubrious ends. Good luck sorting out the plot, which is about as close to postmodernism as Siegfried ever got, and features an opera within the opera, and a climax not dissimilar to F. W. Murnau’s Nosferatu , which had the subtitle, intriguingly enough, of “A Symphony of Horrors.”
The quality of the recording itself will jar you, but that’s part of its effectiveness—weapons crash to the ground as though they’ve landed on microphones, or like something is kicking inside the speakers and trying to get out. It’s a fascinating, weird kind of audio-vérité, that further unsettles the nerves; but distortion was Siegfried’s ally in the creation of this work, and some passages even appear, at first, to be atonal. Rebecca Broberg as Verena, the opera’s heroine—a default designation, really, in this case, given her successive and ultimately defeating tragedies—is really stretched on the rack in her exceedingly taxing role, and it is through her vocal lines that we experience whatever empathy—which often takes the forms of anxiety and fear—the opera has to offer. It’s been remarked that for all of its fantastical elements, Der Kobold is something of a gangster story, but the noir -ish element becomes almost hallucinatory in the constant churn of crises, a vortex of demonism, you might say—of both the supernatural and human variety, the latter, of course, always being worse. Cpo has a Siegfried Wagner sampler disc with the West German Radio Symphony Orchestra and Roman Trekel handling an excerpt, but for the whole, vivid nightmare, you’ll need this set to be properly shocked and disturbed. And for those who cherish their illusions of childhood, there is perhaps no 20th-century opera that poses such a menacing threat to any and all forms of latency.
FANFARE: Colin Fleming
Tristan und Isolde
Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker / Tilson Thomas
The Nutcracker was the final ballet in Tchaikovsky’s great triptych, and was completed in 1891, a year during which the composer made a fatiguing concert tour of America and also suffered a nervous collapse. There is real justification in calling Tchaikovsky the father of the modern ballet score, and he effectively paved the way for dance-theatre music to be taken seriously. However, his first ballets were coolly received, and he was (as ever) wracked with self-doubt about this work, even after the premiere. This score has, of course, gone on to become one of his most popular scores.
Like Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet, The Nutcracker is most often heard in highlight form, but in fact works better when experienced complete. It’s just the right length, and has so many famous numbers that it seems ridiculous to condense it to 20 or 30 minutes. I do possess excerpt discs, but turn most frequently to my benchmark complete version, Ashkenazy’s Decca recording with the Royal Philharmonic. It has a spectacular sound, full, rich and wide-ranging, and a very useful fill-up is included, Glazunov’s masterpiece The Seasons. However, that set is at full price, so the real competition for this budget Sony release comes from Previn’s excellent LSO version (now on Classics for Pleasure, also without a filler), and Dorati’s marvellous Concertgebouw recording on a Philips Duo, which finds room for a substantial Sleeping Beauty selection (Fistoulari and the LSO).
The fact that Tilson Thomas can hold his own against anyone is immediately evident in the Overture, which has a Mendelssohnian lightness and graceful wit that is captivating. As a Bernstein protégé, MTT is a theatrical conductor through and through (listen to any of his Mahler or Copland records), so he is completely at home with the colour and drama of this great score. His pacing throughout is exemplary, on the fast side but with ensemble crisp and rhythms tight. All the famous dances of Act 2 are as infectious as one could wish for; listen to the delectable trumpet playing in the Spanish Dance, whilst the Russian Dance has tremendous weight and panache. The principals of the Philharmonia obviously relish the many solos that litter the score, and indeed the whole orchestra enjoy themselves enormously. I like the way Tilson Thomas gives due attention to Tchaikovsky’s exotic ‘special-effects’, including a child’s trumpet in C, children’s drums, a rattle and mechanisms suggesting cuckoos and quails. He even uses a ratchet and Irish whistle in the Grandfather’s Dance, while kazoos, toy snare drums and a children’s cap gun are used in The Battle. Marvellous fun!
The whole performance has a flair and feeling of ‘rightness’ that are very captivating. The conductor never loses sight of the famous adage that ‘there is a lot of ballet in Tchaikovsky’s symphonies, and a lot of the symphony in his ballets’. He gives everything its due place, so one feels an organic growth in the piece, rather than a succession of set-pieces. Listening to these discs was as satisfying as any of the competition I had to hand, and in many ways the short playing time ceases to be an issue in the face of a great performance. Recording quality is also well up to scratch, with a full-bodied richness that matches the playing...highly recommended."
-- Tony Haywood, MusicWeb International
Shostakovich: Symphony No 4 / Boreyko, Southwest German Rso
To complaints of sectionalism, both in the first and final movements, Boreyko’s reply might well be, “Your point?” He doesn’t downplay any of it. Instead, he uses its often dissociative blocks of content to deliberately create juxtapositions that shock, moments of quiet melancholy followed by instrumental screams or taunts. It’s as if he were shouting (with Shostakovich) at the audience to pay closer attention, to consider each panel in the triptych of brutality, mockery, and sullenness that he’s placed upon display. When the time is right, nothing is held back, and this becomes among the most uninhibited of available Fourths. At other moments, Boreyko reminds me occasionally of Jansons (Avie 2096) in the silken beauty he coaxes from the Stuttgart strings. But where Jansons makes that sound an end in itself, this conductor uses it to better conjure those points of relative emotional stability that Shostakovich repeatedly creates, and quickly destroys.
If I have a criticism, it is that the Scherzo is too deadpan. The coarse sarcasm of the winds and brass are taken straight, and the dissonances in the subsequent string fugue are slightly downplayed. The conductor builds an impressive climax to the movement, but he clearly views it as an emotional intermission between two lengthy, harrowing events. While sympathetic to the need to interject some ray of hope into the proceedings, I don’t find that this treatment works especially well. In the coda to the third movement, certainly; and Boreyko makes something powerful out of the side glance Shostakovich takes there at Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony. But the Scherzo requires something darker and more incisive, in my opinion.
The rest of the album is given over to a short three-movement orchestral suite drawn from the composer’s Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk. It is described on the jewel box cover as the world premiere recording of the original version, but nowhere inside is this discussed; and it’s the same suite present on Deutsche Grammophon 650702, issued last year. I find these three tiny excerpts tell us far less about the work than the lengthier conductor-arranged suites of Conlon and Runnicles. Still, as filler goes, they make light-hearted listening. Boreyko makes more of the score’s spikiness than Thomas Sanderling, and the Stuttgart RSO runs rings around the Russian PO.
Despite my expressed reservations, Boreyko’s Fourth moves in among my favorites. There it joins Kondrashin/Moscow PO, Rozhdestvensky/Bolshoi Theater Orchestra, and Sinaisky/BBC PO, all currently out of print. I find it slightly superior to Gergiev/Kirov Orchestra (Philips 470 842), where momentum trumps detail, but these are matters of personal taste. Both treatments are in excellent sound, and either will do for the modern Shostakovich collector looking for a first-rate performance of this fascinating work.
-- Barry Brenesal, FANFARE [11/2007]
