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Purcell: The Fairy Queen 1692 / Sampson, Daniels, McCreesh, Gabrieli Consort
Signum Classics · Apr 2020CD$27.99 -
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Mercadante: Flute Concertos Nos. 1, 2 And 4 / Gallois, Sinfonia Finlandia Jyvaskyla
Naxos · Dec 2013CD$19.99 -
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Brigadoon & Kiss Me Kate - Original Television Soundtracks / Robert Goulet
Sony Masterworks · Mar 2014CD$17.99 -
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Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Shakespeare Overtures Vol 1 / Penny, West Australian Symphony
Naxos · Sep 2010CD$19.99 -
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SaleBeethoven, R. Schumann, Saint-Saëns: Symphonies for Piano Duo vol. 2 / Uys & Schoeman
SOMM Recordings · Apr 2022CD$20.99$15.99 -
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Rheinberger: Motets, Masses & Hymns / Patterson, Gloriae dei Cantores
Gloriae Dei Cantores · Mar 2011CD$18.99
Purcell: The Fairy Queen 1692 / Sampson, Daniels, McCreesh, Gabrieli Consort
Signum Classics
CD
$27.99
Apr 10, 2020
Purcell’s The Fairy Queen is based on Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, a play not frequently performed in the late 17th century, nor very well regarded (“the most insipid ridiculous play that ever I saw in my life” - Samuel Pepys’ diary, 1662). Despite this, the play would go on to work well within an opera, as the characters of Pyramus and Thisbe could conjure up singing and dancing accomplices. Purcell’s masterful composition, Gabrieli’s first-class performance, and McCreesh’s superb interpretation demonstrate why their recordings are seen as some of the best in classical music today.
Gabrieli are world-renowned interpreters of great vocal and instrumental repertoire, from the Renaissance to the present day. Founded by Paul McCreesh in 1982, Gabrieli have both outgrown and remained true to their original identity: whilst the ensemble’s repertoire has expanded beyond any expectation, McCreesh’s ever-questioning spirit, expressive musicianship and a healthy degree of iconoclasm remain constant and are reflected in the ensemble’s dynamic performances. Gabrieli’s repertoire includes major works of the oratorio tradition, virtuosic a cappella programmes and mold-breaking reconstructions of music for historical events. Above all, Gabrieli aims to create thought-provoking performances which stand out from the crowd.
REVIEWS:
How to pick highlights when everything is a highlight? The First Music introduces us to the string band’s crisp, punchy execution, incising phrasing and tight ensemble. The natural trumpets, especially built for this recording, blaze out triumphantly in the Second Music’s Overture. Further on, they share the limelight with chorus and timpani in the gloriously Handelian “Hail Great Parent of us All”.
By contrast, there are the exquisite recorders and theorbo in the delicate, charming “Symphony in Imitation of Birds”, and the mournful nymph accompanied by a consoling oboe in the air “Oh Let Me Ever, Ever Weep”. Only slightly less melancholy is the gorgeous “If Love’s a Sweet Passion” for nymph, chorus and fawn; the string playing here is as entrancing as the singing. Then there are those brilliant comic moments, like the drunk blindfolded poet tormented by fairies. Or Coridon and Mopsa lustily singing “Now the Maids and the Men are making of Hay” to the frenzied strumming of guitar.
--Limelight
There’s an air of generosity and joy about this recording, as well as a communicative, engaging sense of theatrical narrative that works on its own terms. Reference is made in the thorough and splendid booklet notes which is the work of several hands – and is once again festooned with black and white photographs of a ‘cow and leaf’ nature – regarding the placement of the Chaconne to end the work but that won’t come as a surprise for those who have John Eliot Gardiner’s recording.
This is an elegant, refined and strongly realized performance. Earthier alternatives exist...but if you follow McCreesh and his forces you will lack for little in polish and affect, in the truest sense.
--MusicWeb International
Hindemith, Ligeti, Nielsen: Wind Quintets / Vienna Quintet
Nimbus
CD
$20.99
Feb 01, 2004
Let me say it right off the bat: I absolutely loved this CD, and I’m betting that you will, too. I have been enthralled with Hindemith’s Kammermusik ever since I acquired the complete set of works collected under that title in Riccardo Chailly’s 1992 two-disc Decca release. Seven works in all make up the series. Six are essentially chamber concertos, each featuring a different solo instrument: piano in the op. 36/1, cello in the op. 36/2, violin in the op. 36/3, viola in the op. 36/4, viola d’amore in the op. 46/1, and organ in the op. 46/2. The seventh, op. 24/1, is for 12 solo instruments. That leaves the op. 24/2 for five wind instruments heard here, to which Hindemith gave the title Kleine Kammermusik. Technically speaking, it falls outside the set of seven the composer designated Kammermusik, but in style it shares much in common with its siblings. Written in 1922, it is a delightful thing, peppy, perky, and playful, with just enough of those Hindemithian sour notes thrown in to give the piece a lemony zest. The Six Bagatelles by György Ligeti (b. 1923) is a fairly early piece written between 1951 and 1953, while the composer was still living in Hungary. The work is based on six movements from Ligeti’s Musica ricercata, and is clearly indebted to neo-Classical models, particularly Bartók and Stravinsky. Do not expect anything like the later spatial and spectral tone-cluster music that made Ligeti famous in the West.
I am of two minds when it comes to Carl Nielsen (1865–1931). Hearing his name so often in hyphenation with Sibelius (like Debussy and Ravel), I could not imagine how or why anyone would pair these two composers who sounded to me so utterly different in style and musical speech. Moreover, I was (and still am) a Sibelian to the core, and I was mystified that Nielsen, who seemed quite the inferior of the two, could be held up as an equal. Well, that was a long time ago, and before I really applied myself to learning Nielsen’s music. I still believe that Sibelius was the greater of the two composers, but they are so different from one another that comparisons are not very instructive. I have long since come to appreciate Nielsen for the individual and special voice that was his.
His Wind Quintet, op. 43, from 1922, is testament to that unique voice. At nearly 25 minutes, it is a substantive and masterful work. The concluding Theme and Variations movement, especially, is not only a brilliant display of wind-writing technique, but really beautiful and moving music.
What can I say about the Quintett Wien? These five musicians are more than masters of their craft; they come together as a perfectly blended ensemble that breathes as a single living organism. Truly magnificent. Nimbus captures them in an acoustic that is open and radiant, but not reverberant. I know that I will be playing this CD many times over.
Jerry Dubins, FANFARE
I am of two minds when it comes to Carl Nielsen (1865–1931). Hearing his name so often in hyphenation with Sibelius (like Debussy and Ravel), I could not imagine how or why anyone would pair these two composers who sounded to me so utterly different in style and musical speech. Moreover, I was (and still am) a Sibelian to the core, and I was mystified that Nielsen, who seemed quite the inferior of the two, could be held up as an equal. Well, that was a long time ago, and before I really applied myself to learning Nielsen’s music. I still believe that Sibelius was the greater of the two composers, but they are so different from one another that comparisons are not very instructive. I have long since come to appreciate Nielsen for the individual and special voice that was his.
His Wind Quintet, op. 43, from 1922, is testament to that unique voice. At nearly 25 minutes, it is a substantive and masterful work. The concluding Theme and Variations movement, especially, is not only a brilliant display of wind-writing technique, but really beautiful and moving music.
What can I say about the Quintett Wien? These five musicians are more than masters of their craft; they come together as a perfectly blended ensemble that breathes as a single living organism. Truly magnificent. Nimbus captures them in an acoustic that is open and radiant, but not reverberant. I know that I will be playing this CD many times over.
Jerry Dubins, FANFARE
Masters of Jazz, Vol. 11
Storyville Records
CD
$14.99
Jul 01, 2006
This compilation features Billie Holiday singing many classic standards including Strange Fruit, Lover Man, The Man I Love, All of Me, I Loves You Porgy, I Love My Man, Them There Eyes and Do Nothing ‘Til You Hear From Me. Her musicians on these sessions, recorded between 1944-1951 include Roy Eldridge, Hot Lips Page, Coleman Hawkins, Jack Teagarden, Art Tatum, Teddy Wilson, Jimmy Rowles, Oscar Pettiford and “Big” Sid Catlett.
Rossini: L'italiana In Algeri / Zedda, Pizzolato, Regazzo, Brownlee
Naxos
CD
$29.99
May 25, 2010
There is no want for recordings of this opera, and several are terrific: Jennifer Larmore/Raul Gimenez (Teldec); Horne/Alva (Opera d'Oro); Horne/Ramey (Erato); Baltsa/Raimondi (DG). But there's always room for another if it's good, and this new release, recorded at the 2008 Wildbad Rossini Festival, is excellent--and the least expensive of them all.
The star here is Lawrence Brownlee, the superb coloratura-lyric tenor who is giving Juan Diego Florez a run for his money. Warm of tone, stylish, accurate, rhythmically impeccable, fearless of high notes, involved with the text, and capable of marvelous patter (his first-act duet with Mustafa is a gem), Brownlee is the best Lindoro on disc. He is given both of his arias, which he dispatches nimbly and naturally.
Almost as fine (behind only Samuel Ramey) is Lorenzo Regazzo's Mustafa, here portrayed not as a buffoon but as a man smitten and naive to the wiles of women. The voice is appealing, dark, and round-toned, and he sings the coloratura and patter handily. I like that he doesn't growl and yelp like most basses do in this role; he may be a tyrannical character but he's in a position of power and distinction. The other two low men's voices are equally good: Giulio Mastrototaro's Haly is colorful and self-assured, and Bruno De Simone's is the best Taddeo on disc. He has the Rossini style down pat and sings with impeccable diction. He doesn't sound young, but that's hardly an issue. Both men are fine in ensembles.
Marianna Pizzolato is a far lighter mezzo than we normally hear in this role. I guess in keeping with underplaying Mustafa's foolishness, we avoid having an Isabella who sounds as if she could conquer Algiers singlehandedly--as, say, Baltsa and Horne could. Pizzolato is more in the Teresa Berganza class (although the voice is not as lovely); there are no booming low notes, but she commands the role on her own terms. There's little to argue with vocally--she has the technique down pat--and she has a good sense of fun as well. Ruth Gonzales as Mustafa's poor, fed-up wife, Elvira, can be slightly shrill but is mostly an excellent part of the ensemble, and mezzo Elsa Giannoulidou holds up her end as Zulma.
Alberto Zedda, an old hand who can occasionally be more scholarly than entertaining, is at his best: zippy tempos prevail (in fact, the finale to Act 1 is faster than I've ever heard it--a remarkable example of how well rehearsed the performance is); vocal lines are ornamented wisely (not the old fashioned way, with big high notes at the end of arias and scenes, but rather within the numbers themselves); and the opera comes across as charming.
This work can seem like hectoring and can be somewhat cruel; the choice of singers, tempos, and overall outlook makes it concentrate on the love story and the peculiarities of East meeting West. The Transylvania State Philharmonic Choir, Cluj is superb, singing at times at a whisper very accurately and offering real personality, and the Virtuosi Brunensis plays with vigor. The recording is fine, with voices always audible and well-balanced. If you're in need of a L'Italiana, this one will please you, particularly at half the price of the others; otherwise the Larmore/Teldec release is the best cast, overall.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
It took me only a few seconds of listening to realise that there was likely to be something special about this recording. The Overture is so well known and often played, but here it comes up with the kind of invigorating freshness and brightness that brings an immediate grin to your face. Partly this is due to the use of the recent critical edition by Azio Corghi, whose changes of flute to piccolo in the allegro section, and detailed changes of phrasing throughout are entirely for the better, but it is due even more to the sheer rhythmic grace and suppleness of the playing. Alberto Zedda may have been nearly 80 when this recording was made but you would never guess it from the results. The orchestra sounds to be of an appropriate size for the work – not on historic instruments, I understand, but certainly historically informed - and it has been recorded in an acoustic which appropriately feels like the kind of medium-sized opera-house that Rossini would have expected.
Apart from Lawrence Brownlee the cast is not as starry as other versions of the work, but what is much more important is that the majority of the soloists are native speakers of Italian and all have clearly been thoroughly rehearsed together as an ensemble. Brownlee sings with grace and manliness - an uncommon quality in this role. Bruno de Simone and Lorenzo Regazzo have voices which are clearly distinguishable from each other and both are masters of Rossini’s writing for comic basses. The ladies are perhaps less individual, Marianna Pizzolato in particular lacking the kind of vivid characterisation that we find in recordings with, say, Marilyn Horne or Jennifer Larmore. Nonetheless she sings with great beauty where required, and at all times communicates the dramatic situation to the audience. It is indeed this quality of communication which makes the recording special. There is no sense of a routine run-through; instead there is the freshness of apparent new discovery.
This is wholly appropriate as L’Italiana in Algeri was written when the composer was only twenty-one. He had written nine operas before it but here reveals himself for the first time as a complete master of writing for the stage and one determined to make this clear to the audience. The special merit of this performance is that the performers are clearly working as an ensemble. It was recorded at live performances but the only significant adverse effects are very occasional moments of ragged ensemble and the brief applause at the end of some, but not all, numbers. On the other hand the very positive effect is the palpable sense of involvement in the performance from everyone involved.
Naxos have recorded a number of Rossini operas at the Wildbad Festival already, but this is by some way the best I have heard so far. No libretto is included with the set and that on their website is in Italian only. There is however a detailed and helpfully cued synopsis which is some consolation - although in a comic opera you really do need to be able to understand all the words to appreciate it as the composer intended.
-- John Sheppard, MusicWeb International
The star here is Lawrence Brownlee, the superb coloratura-lyric tenor who is giving Juan Diego Florez a run for his money. Warm of tone, stylish, accurate, rhythmically impeccable, fearless of high notes, involved with the text, and capable of marvelous patter (his first-act duet with Mustafa is a gem), Brownlee is the best Lindoro on disc. He is given both of his arias, which he dispatches nimbly and naturally.
Almost as fine (behind only Samuel Ramey) is Lorenzo Regazzo's Mustafa, here portrayed not as a buffoon but as a man smitten and naive to the wiles of women. The voice is appealing, dark, and round-toned, and he sings the coloratura and patter handily. I like that he doesn't growl and yelp like most basses do in this role; he may be a tyrannical character but he's in a position of power and distinction. The other two low men's voices are equally good: Giulio Mastrototaro's Haly is colorful and self-assured, and Bruno De Simone's is the best Taddeo on disc. He has the Rossini style down pat and sings with impeccable diction. He doesn't sound young, but that's hardly an issue. Both men are fine in ensembles.
Marianna Pizzolato is a far lighter mezzo than we normally hear in this role. I guess in keeping with underplaying Mustafa's foolishness, we avoid having an Isabella who sounds as if she could conquer Algiers singlehandedly--as, say, Baltsa and Horne could. Pizzolato is more in the Teresa Berganza class (although the voice is not as lovely); there are no booming low notes, but she commands the role on her own terms. There's little to argue with vocally--she has the technique down pat--and she has a good sense of fun as well. Ruth Gonzales as Mustafa's poor, fed-up wife, Elvira, can be slightly shrill but is mostly an excellent part of the ensemble, and mezzo Elsa Giannoulidou holds up her end as Zulma.
Alberto Zedda, an old hand who can occasionally be more scholarly than entertaining, is at his best: zippy tempos prevail (in fact, the finale to Act 1 is faster than I've ever heard it--a remarkable example of how well rehearsed the performance is); vocal lines are ornamented wisely (not the old fashioned way, with big high notes at the end of arias and scenes, but rather within the numbers themselves); and the opera comes across as charming.
This work can seem like hectoring and can be somewhat cruel; the choice of singers, tempos, and overall outlook makes it concentrate on the love story and the peculiarities of East meeting West. The Transylvania State Philharmonic Choir, Cluj is superb, singing at times at a whisper very accurately and offering real personality, and the Virtuosi Brunensis plays with vigor. The recording is fine, with voices always audible and well-balanced. If you're in need of a L'Italiana, this one will please you, particularly at half the price of the others; otherwise the Larmore/Teldec release is the best cast, overall.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
It took me only a few seconds of listening to realise that there was likely to be something special about this recording. The Overture is so well known and often played, but here it comes up with the kind of invigorating freshness and brightness that brings an immediate grin to your face. Partly this is due to the use of the recent critical edition by Azio Corghi, whose changes of flute to piccolo in the allegro section, and detailed changes of phrasing throughout are entirely for the better, but it is due even more to the sheer rhythmic grace and suppleness of the playing. Alberto Zedda may have been nearly 80 when this recording was made but you would never guess it from the results. The orchestra sounds to be of an appropriate size for the work – not on historic instruments, I understand, but certainly historically informed - and it has been recorded in an acoustic which appropriately feels like the kind of medium-sized opera-house that Rossini would have expected.
Apart from Lawrence Brownlee the cast is not as starry as other versions of the work, but what is much more important is that the majority of the soloists are native speakers of Italian and all have clearly been thoroughly rehearsed together as an ensemble. Brownlee sings with grace and manliness - an uncommon quality in this role. Bruno de Simone and Lorenzo Regazzo have voices which are clearly distinguishable from each other and both are masters of Rossini’s writing for comic basses. The ladies are perhaps less individual, Marianna Pizzolato in particular lacking the kind of vivid characterisation that we find in recordings with, say, Marilyn Horne or Jennifer Larmore. Nonetheless she sings with great beauty where required, and at all times communicates the dramatic situation to the audience. It is indeed this quality of communication which makes the recording special. There is no sense of a routine run-through; instead there is the freshness of apparent new discovery.
This is wholly appropriate as L’Italiana in Algeri was written when the composer was only twenty-one. He had written nine operas before it but here reveals himself for the first time as a complete master of writing for the stage and one determined to make this clear to the audience. The special merit of this performance is that the performers are clearly working as an ensemble. It was recorded at live performances but the only significant adverse effects are very occasional moments of ragged ensemble and the brief applause at the end of some, but not all, numbers. On the other hand the very positive effect is the palpable sense of involvement in the performance from everyone involved.
Naxos have recorded a number of Rossini operas at the Wildbad Festival already, but this is by some way the best I have heard so far. No libretto is included with the set and that on their website is in Italian only. There is however a detailed and helpfully cued synopsis which is some consolation - although in a comic opera you really do need to be able to understand all the words to appreciate it as the composer intended.
-- John Sheppard, MusicWeb International
NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL AN ERA: ALBUMS 1980-1984
UNIVERSAL UK
CD
$24.99
Jun 06, 2025
NOW Music is very proud to present the second of our 'Now That's What I Call An Era' releases. 'The Albums 1980 1984' celebrates 72 iconic albums that were released between 1980 and 1984, featuring a magnificent track from each - and none of them UK hit singles! Most of the albums being highlighted produced huge hit singles that have become both synonymous with the decade and enduringly popular - but these albums are of such a high quality - forever part of the artist's legacy - that other tracks could have equally become hits - and some have become as well-loved by fans as the singles, and have for many artists always been an established part of their live shows. This 72-track 4-CD comes with a 'hardback book' that includes a 28-page booklet featuring a track-by-track guide. Essential Tracks From Iconic Albums... This 4CD set opens with a trio of tracks from stunning debuts: 'A Ray Of Sunshine' from 'Fantastic', the 1983 debut album from Wham, 'Lemon Firebrigade' from Haircut 100's 'Pelican West', and the sumptuous 'Show Me', the opening track from 'The Lexicon Of Love' from ABC. Huge 1983 albums are up next from Culture Club, with 'Black Money' from 'Colour By Numbers', and 'This City Never Sleeps' the closing track on 'Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)' from Eurythmics. Another epic closer from Alison Moyet with 'Where Hides Sleep' from her solo debut 'Alf' is followed by 'Frankie's First Affair' from another 1984 debut, 'Diamond Life' from Sade. Roxy Music's 1982 'Avalon' included 'The Space Between', whilst Japan with 'Talking Drum' from 'Tin Drum' leads a stellar run of iconic albums from Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, Heaven 17, Ultravox and The Human League with 'The Things That Dreams Are Made Of' from 1981's hit-packed 'Dare'. The first disc closes with Donna Summer from her Quincy Jones produced 1982 eponymous album, Tina Turner with the opening track from her landmark 1984 release 'Private Dancer' and Bruce Springsteen from his 1980 double classic 'The River', while the final track 'Mystery Achievement' was the final track on the Pretenders debut 'Pretenders' released just two weeks into 1980 - and sounding as fresh today as it did over 45 years ago. Wham! Are back opening CD2 with 'Heartbeat' from 1984's 'Make It Big' - an album that housed multiple #1 singles. Soft Cell are featured next with 'Secret Life' from their remarkable debut 'Non- Stop Erotic Cabaret', and a track that would be a #1 10 years later as a cover version, 'Young At Heart', is featured from Bananarama's 1983 debut 'Deep Sea Skiving'. A run of superb synth pop including Nik Kershaw, Howard Jones and Bronski Beat follows, before a couple of r&b influenced tracks from Shalamar, from their hit-filled 'Friends' album and Imagination from 'In The Heat Of The Night'. New-wave pop from Toyah, Kim Wilde and Culture Club come ahead of a couple of great covers: - 'Are You There With Another Girl?' from Mari Wilson, and Carmel's take on 'Tracks of My Tears' from 1984's 'The Drum Is Everything'. Next up a masterful jazz-influenced collaboration between The Style Council & Tracey Thorn, ahead of the title track from Paul Simon's 'Hearts And Bones', and a beautiful ballad 'Turn Out The Light' from Joan Armatrading's 1980 'Me Myself I' - all leading to the closing song, the title track from Paul Young's 1983 #1 'No Parlez'. CD3 opens with a stellar line up of the era's most sophisticated pop. Leading off with the timeless 'The Chauffeur' from Duran Duran's enormous second album 'Rio', before 'Taking Islands In Africa' a stand-out from Japan's 'Gentlemen Take Polaroids'. Tears For Fears made their album debut in 1983 and the title track from 'The Hurting' is featured along with a great pop moment, 'Black Night White Light' from Frankie Goes To Hollywood's 1984 debut 'Welcome To The Pleasuredome'. Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark are up next alongside Laurie Anderson from 'Big Science', The Cure from 'Seventeen Seconds' and Joy Division from 'Closer'. U.S. Alt-pop tracks from R.E.M. and The Psychedelic Furs come ahead of synth led gems from Blancmange, China Crisis and The Associates. 1981's biggest selling album in the UK was 'Kings Of The Wild Frontier' from Adam & The Ants and 'Ants Invasion' taken from it is featured next along with The Teardrop Explodes from 'Kilimanjaro', Echo & The Bunnymen with 'Crystal Days' from 'Ocean Rain', The Jam from 'Sound Affects', and Aztec Camera with 'We Could Send Letters' from their 1983 debut album 'High Land, Hard Rain', whilst the discs' sign-off is from Nick Heyward with the gorgeous 'The Day It Rained Forever' from his fantastic solo debut 'North Of A Miracle'. The final disc kicks off with a run of classic synth led epics: New Order open with 'Age Of Consent' from their second album 'Power, Corruption And Lies', and 'Hard Times', from the 1982 remix album from The Human League using the name The League Unlimited Orchestra. Visage released their second album 'The Anvil' in 1982 and the title track is up next along with three more title tracks: Simple Minds with 'New Gold Dream (81/82/83/84)' from their brilliant 1982 release, Talk Talk with 'The Party's Over' from the same year, and The Fixx with 'Reach The Beach' - from their 1983 second release which gave them a Top 10 U.S. album. In 1984, David Sylvian released his first solo album 'Brilliant Trees', and from it the outstanding and atmospheric 'Nostalgia' shares a jazz-infused sophistication with 'Almost Blue', up next from Elvis Costello & The Attractions. The Cure released their fifth album 'The Top' in 1984, and it's opening track 'Shake Dog Shake' features ahead of 'Angels On The Balcony' from Blondie, featuring their signature sound and taken from 1980's 'Autoamerican' - and from the same year - Dexys Midnight Runners from 'Searching For The Young Soul Rebels'. In 1982 The Clash released 'Combat Rock', and 'Overpowered By Funk' is included. Next up are The Police with their fusion of post punk and 'reggae rock', from their 1980 #1 album 'Zenyatta Mondatta' with 'When The World Is Running Down, You Make The Best Of What's Still Around', followed by Grace Jones' breathtaking version of 'Nightclubbing'. The opening track 'Tyler' from UB40's acclaimed 1980 debut 'Signing Off' comes ahead of the closing tracks, both of which featured on albums released on the influential 2-Tone label; The Selecter with the title track from 1980's 'Too Much Pressure', and The Specials with their cover of 'Enjoy Yourself (It's Later Than You Think)', the opening track on their 1980 album 'More Specials'. 72 fantastic tracks - A sampler of the iconic albums that represent an incredible period of creativity and originality: NOW That's What I Call An Era : The Albums 1980 1984.
Mercadante: Flute Concertos Nos. 1, 2 And 4 / Gallois, Sinfonia Finlandia Jyvaskyla
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Dec 10, 2013
MERCADANTE Flute Concertos: No. 2 in e, op. 57; No. 4 in G; No. 1 in E, op. 49 • Patrick Gallois (fl, cond); Snf Finlandia Jyväskylä • NAXOS 8.572731 (57:34)
Saverio Mercadante’s flute concertos are apparently more popular than I’d have thought—the one in E Minor especially—for not a few recordings of them have been previously reviewed in these pages. How memorable are they? Well, for me, they must not have made any lasting impression at all, for it wasn’t until I checked the Fanfare Archive that I realized I had reviewed a two-disc set of the composer’s flute concertos on Dynamic, performed by flutist Mario Carbotta. What’s interesting, though, is that in only three instances, going back to the early 1990s, have these works been taken up by players with names familiar enough to be recognized by general listeners outside of flute circles: James Galway, Jean-Pierre Rampal, and Peter-Lukas Graf. This new release on Naxos thus appears to be the first in two decades to feature an internationally renowned flutist with a name readers are sure to know, Patrick Gallois.
Giuseppe Saverio Raffaele Mercadante (1795–1870) was primarily a composer of operas. No surprise there; if you were a composer in 19th-century Italy, that’s what you did for a living, and Mercadante must have lived well, for his output of operas was prodigious—at least 60 that we know of. He was also long-lived enough to have witnessed the comings and goings of Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti, and to have been around for a good portion of Verdi’s life. While in Paris at Rossini’s invitation in 1836, Mercadante attended performances of operas by Meyerbeer and Halévy, and is said to have been strongly influenced by the French emphasis on grand, dramatic spectacle. After spending some time in Vienna, Spain, and Portugal, Mercadante returned to Italy, settled in for the long haul, and set to work.
Unlike most of his opera-composing Italian contemporaries, Mercadante seems to have had more than just a passing interest in instrumental music. His flute concertos and chamber works that include a flute can be explained by his majoring in the instrument as a student at the Naples Conservatory, but orchestration became a lifelong passion for him. He took special pains with the instrumental scoring in his operas, and during the last 30 years of his life, while director of the Conservatory at which he’d been a student, Mercandante composed a goodly number of non-operatic works. During his last seven years, from approximately 1863 on, he became nearly totally blind.
Sometimes it’s harder than other times to intuit why one composer’s works survive while another’s lose their appeal. Certainly, in his day, Mercadante rivaled Rossini and Donizetti in the field of opera. But for the very first time ever in these pages, I reviewed an opera in 36:6, and that opera happened to be Mercadante’s Don Chisciotte alle nozze di Gamaccio , categorized as a melodramma giocoso . I didn’t come away from it with a very positive opinion, describing the piece as “an Italian singspiel , and not a very good one, with nary a single memorable tune in this over an hour-and-a-half-long jocularity fit for whistling while you work.” I’m sure it’s not fair to judge Mercadante by this one opus, especially since it may not be representative of his operatic output as a whole, but in a 14: 4 review of Mercadante’s Il reggente , David Johnson wrote: “He was a composer of great gifts, but they were not great enough to survive direct comparisons with the triumvirate of Rossini, Donizetti, and Verdi, whose styles are all reflected in his operas. And he had the unlucky fate of choosing subjects that other composers had or were about to treat more memorably.”
To the extent that Mercadante is remembered today it’s mainly for his seven or so flute concertos, which, in their musical style and virtuoso demands on the soloist, are strongly reminiscent of Paganini’s violin concertos. If the flute could only play double-stops and chords and had the range of a violin, you could almost substitute one for the other. Each begins with an imposing introductory exposition that prepares for the grand entrance of the prima donna. Only in this case, she turns out to be a slip of a thing, a mere mouse, compared to the lioness the orchestral set-up has led us to expect. No disrespect intended towards Patrick Gallois and his brilliant fluting, but there’s something almost comical when the soloist enters twittering and tweeting away after such grandiloquent promises of things to come. It reminds me of the LOL jew’s harp concertos by Albrechtsberger.
Anyway, if you’re a flute fancier, you are guaranteed to find Mercadante’s concertos scintillating entertainment, and Gallois’s performance of them will take your breath away. It’s a miracle they don’t take his breath away, as he twirls and twizzles his way through a seemingly endless triathlon of rapid runs, arpeggios, and register leaps without ever once missing a beat or showing the least sign of strain. This is flute playing on an epic scale, and it’s matched in kind by the 38-member-strong Sinfonia Finlandia Jyväskylä, amazingly well-led by Gallois as he’s playing.
Truth be told, the flute is not high on my list of favorite instruments, but if even I can appreciate the works on this disc and marvel at the execution, think how much you’ll love it if you actually like the flute. A two-thumbs-up recommendation.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Sondheim: Sweeney Todd / Henschel, Stone, Schirmer
BR Klassik
CD
$29.99
Jan 29, 2013
SONDHEIM Sweeney Todd • Ulf Schirmer, cond; Mark Stone ( Sweeney Todd ); Jane Henschel ( Mrs. Lovett ); Gregg Baker ( Anthony Hope ); Rebecca Bottone ( Johanna ); Jonathan Best ( Judge Turpin ); Adrian Dwyer ( Beadle Bamford ); Diana DiMarzio ( Beggar Woman ); Ronald Samm ( Pirelli ); Pascal Charbonneau ( Tobias ); Bavarian R Ch; Munich R O • BR 900316 (2 CDs: 123:59) Live: Munich 5/6/2012
Composer-librettist Stephen Sondheim maintains that Sweeney Todd is not an opera, and so does the annotator for the present release. Nevertheless, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (its full title), since it premiered on Broadway in 1979, has been revived by several opera companies, including the New York City Opera, the Houston Grand Opera, and the Chicago Lyric Opera. Why? Musically, it is highly sophisticated, and operatic voices are not wasted on it. Furthermore, with its larger-than-life dramatic themes, including mistaken identity, lust, vengeance, obsession, madness, and murder, how more operatic could a theatrical work be?
There have been several recordings of this work, including the unforgettable original cast recording on RCA with Len Cariou in the title role, and Angela Lansbury in the role of Mrs. Lovett, his cheerfully amoral partner in crime. That version will never be eclipsed, but each new recording adds a welcome new perspective. The one reviewed here, recorded in the Munich’s Prinzregententheater, is the most operatic yet, even more than the one with the New York Philharmonic which features singers such as Heidi Grant Murphy (Johanna), John Aler (Beadle Bamford), and Paul Plishka (Judge Turpin). This time around, we have legitimate operatic singers in all of the main roles; only DiMarzio appears not to be a “classical” musician per se. In other words, here we have an ensemble of acting singers, as opposed to singing actors such as Cariou, Lansbury, George Hearn, Patti LuPone, and Michael Cerveris, who all have made major contributions to this opera’s . . . I mean, musical’s performance history.
It turns out fairly well. I was immediately pulled in by Ulf Schirmer’s conducting, which is tense, taut, and stylish. In fact, you might not hear a better conducted Sweeney Todd anywhere. The Bavarian Radio Choir also adds much to the success of this performance. Although their diction is less clear than that of English-speaking ensembles who have recorded this music, their dramatic involvement is high, as is their musicianship.
This is an actual performance. Apparently the time, funds, or energy to correct the inevitable live lapses was unavailable, and thus we have oddities such as Henschel at one point rechristening Beadle Bamford as “Beadle Rumford.” A few memory lapses are covered professionally, but will leave those who know the show well asking, “What did (s)he just sing?” These issues are minor, though.
I’m more concerned about two other points. One is the lack of (black, very black) humor in this production. For example, I can’t understand why, in “A Little Priest,” the wonderfully uncomfortable pun about a meat pie made from a general (“With or without his privates?”) has been removed. This is a grim show, still there is much about it that can be very funny, and allowing it to be so makes the gore and horror even more effective. As the original Mrs. Lovett, Angela Lansbury was charming and endearing; she might bake you into a meat pie, but you couldn’t stay angry with her for long! Henschel can’t inspire that kind of affection, and she makes it clear that her murderous instincts were present even before opportunity allowed them to come out. The other thing that concerns me is the way in which some of the big dramatic moments are almost thrown away. Todd’s aborted murder of Judge Turpin (interrupted by Anthony’s untimely arrival) should be a big moment, but it isn’t. Similarly, soon after, in Todd’s “Epiphany,” we should feel his mind crack and his murderous rage insanely swell to encompass all of mankind, not just the Judge, but Mark Stone is not that fine an actor, the direction is too hurried, and one of the show’s most Brechtian moments doesn’t come off. The last segment of the show, with its string of murders and its Grand Guignol effects, moves forward jerkily, sometimes grinding to a halt, and sometimes not pausing long enough to make its points. On Broadway, Harold Prince would have fixed these miscalculations, but, at least as I am hearing them on CD, they were not addressed in Munich’s Prinzregententheater.
All of the singing itself is very fine. One curiosity is a baritone Anthony; Gregg Baker’s voice is darker than Mark Stone’s. Anthony is supposed to be an inexperienced sailor, newly arrived in London, and the early scenes between him and Todd feel strange, because the voice relationships have been inverted from the original production. I really missed hearing a tenor’s voice soar into “Johanna,” one of Sondheim’s most rapturous love songs. Also, the multinational cast presents a variety of accents. In 1979, Cariou had almost no accent at all, while Lansbury made the most of hers. Here, we have the reverse: a cockney Todd in Baker, and a Mrs. Lovett of no particular nationality or region in Henschel. Someday, there will be a production of this work in which everyone gets on the same page with dialects.
So, if you want an operatic Sweeney Todd , or a fresh look at it, this new recording will satisfy. It has many enjoyable moments, but a few unfortunate ones as well. If you do not know this show at all, however, the Broadway cast recording—still in print, thank goodness!—is the only place to begin. This show is one of the masterpieces of American musical theater, and absolutely needs to be heard.
FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle
OTIS BLUE: OTIS REDDING SINGS SOUL
ATLANTIC
Vinyl
$29.96
Feb 03, 2023
Crystal Clear Vinyl LP pressing. By 1965, Otis Redding was already a force to be reckoned with, well on his way to earning his King of Soul® title. Then, he released this collection, which is absolutely foundational to any soul vinyl collection. This album includes Otis' soul-searing lament "I've Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)," a cover of The Rolling Stone's "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" that is wholly original, the world's introduction to "Respect" before Aretha made it her own, and Otis' perfect versions of "My Girl," "Wonderful World," and "A Change Is Gonna Come", standards like "Rock Me Baby" and spirituals like "Down in the Valley."
Bach: Goldberg Variations / Daniel-Ben Pienaar
Avie Records
CD
$19.99
Oct 01, 2011
Expressive, atmospheric, intelligent performance.
I was highly impressed by and still very much relish my time spent with Daniel-Ben Pienaar’s Mozart’s complete Piano Sonatas on AV 2209. Fans of this set will find all of this promise further fulfilled in this Goldberg Variations, though as a reviewer it would have been an easier task to welcome slightly less well-trodden repertoire. Pienaar’s Bach is magnificent and, to a point, individual, but does it really stand out in such a crowded field?
Daniel-Ben Pienaar poses as many questions as he provides answers in his deeply considered and well written booklet notes for this release. He doesn’t point to specific influences with regard to his interpretations in this great keyboard work, but develops ideas on its place and time both in the present, as well as the alliances formed between the circumstantial and the timeless – qualities and values inherent in the music itself, and the ways in which these can be approached and adapted by players over time.
This is a probing intellectual interpretation which on occasion displays dazzling feats of speed, but which is more often a more introverted exploration of the piece. It is almost as if Pienaar is playing for his own satisfaction, and leaving it up to us to decide whether we want to listen and take the journey with him. The compact timing reflects brisk tempi at times, but the unhurried feel of the playing and a minimum of ornamentation also allows a highly selective observation of repeats to remain a credible choice. Pienaar doesn’t work much with ‘variation within variations’, so there is no sense we are being cheated out of colourful technical insights and improvisational touches by not hearing certain bars come around for a second time.
Comparisons can be made ad nauseam, but looking at another recent take on the Goldberg Variations by Nick van Bloss on the Nimbus Alliance label shows how personality shades identical music into fascinatingly different manifestations. Bloss is the more extrovert of the two, seeking wit in the music and cheekily expressing it with effects like an occasional extra octave wallop in the bass. This ‘vibe’ turns his performance into more of a public experience – no less well considered than Pienaar’s, but introducing Bach to the bustle and language of the street: the call of market traders and the revving of motors. Bloss’s Bach isn’t rough and ready, but is easily the more resistant to external knocks and blows, and in this way is more of a challenge to Glenn Gould’s 1955 Goldberg Variations, the recording which gave the work and its performer such a remarkable hit status at that time.
This is not to say Daniel-Ben Pienaar’s recording is weak-willed and softly undemonstrative, but there is a gentler side to his playing – perhaps also a side-effect of a rather rounded piano sound – which brings out the warmth in the heart of the music rather than its big venue street-cred. There is bounce and life where Bach demands it, in the first variation for instance, and this sets the pace for the first grouping of variations which concludes with a rousing Variatio 4. Extremes of speed are a feature of some variations, and Variatio 5 is the first such example, acting as little more than a prelude to Variatio 6. Pienaar’s sensitivity to Bach’s dance style is demonstrated in a Giga which barely touches the floor, so light is his touch on the keyboard. The second grouping of variations has its finale in a robust performance of the Variatio 10 Fughetta. Central to the next group is the expressive Variatio 13, in which the little inner rubati which Pienaar uses make the performance seem that much more reflective and yes, introverted. The sound appears almost to want to stay within the case of the piano, rather than broadcast to the last row of an invisible audience. This is not to say the playing is timid, but you could equally imagine this as a clavichord performance. Variatio 14 blows away the mood created in a horizontal shower of sparkling notes, again making it a sort of prelude to the gently eloquent lines of Variatio 15, which concludes another ‘block’ within Pienaar’s structuring of the piece.
The conjoining of variations is a feature of a slow, almost tentative sounding Variatio 20, which serves as a launching point for an arguable too swift and brutal Variatio 21, which goes at a speed too fast for our minds to keep up. The expressive highlights of Variatio 21, 22 and 25 are all done marvellously, though without extremes of slowness or attempts to seek too far beyond Bach’s notes beyond what is already so miraculous on the page. Pienaar does dive for pearls, but not in a disproportionate sense – no need for extra breathing apparatus, though the atmosphere is breathtaking. He writes of the ‘return home’ of the Quodlibet in the way that “the use of folk songs suggests quite literally a return to shared ancestral roots.” In this way the final repeat of the Aria is more of a coda and a release, the feeling of which is palpably expressed by Daniel Ben-Pienaar.
As a bonus to the Goldberg Variations we are given a continuous passacaglia version of the Fourteen Canons BWV 1087, which are based on the first eight bass notes of the Aria from the Goldberg Variations. I’ve been intrigued by these little gems for a while now, but while Pienaar’s more lively moments are good you have to get used to his overly straight opening and an occasional over-prominence of the bass line in places. If you want to discover these fascinating canons have a listen to the Hänssler Bach Edition Musikalisches Opfer CD 92.133 which, along with the canons BWV 1072-78 is the version which convinced me that J.S. Bach was one of the first minimalist composers, even to the point of momentarily confounding our reviewer. Pienaar’s programme concludes with a lovely prayer-like performance of Bist du bei mir from Bach’s Anna Magdalena Notebook, the source of the Aria from the Goldberg Variations, or at least where it sees its first appearance in Bach’s manuscripts.
To conclude, this is a superbly expressive and atmospheric recording of the Goldberg Variations. One may not quite agree with the occasional extremes of tempo, but there is little doubting the jigsaw-puzzle accuracy and attention to detail with which Daniel-Ben Pienaar has formed his shaping of this masterpiece. Subsequent to my review of the Mozart sonatas I was contacted with regard to the piano sound, which one commentator found rather ‘harsh, full of reverb, somewhat lacking in definition’. I’m still quite happy with the sound quality of this, though I partially take the point about the reverb and definition. This Bach was recorded at the same location and the reverb is less by comparison; the instrument that touch closer to the microphones, something which can make all the difference. It’s perhaps not quite ‘demonstration’ piano sound with a little more mid-range bloom than makes for perfection, but is still very good.
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
I was highly impressed by and still very much relish my time spent with Daniel-Ben Pienaar’s Mozart’s complete Piano Sonatas on AV 2209. Fans of this set will find all of this promise further fulfilled in this Goldberg Variations, though as a reviewer it would have been an easier task to welcome slightly less well-trodden repertoire. Pienaar’s Bach is magnificent and, to a point, individual, but does it really stand out in such a crowded field?
Daniel-Ben Pienaar poses as many questions as he provides answers in his deeply considered and well written booklet notes for this release. He doesn’t point to specific influences with regard to his interpretations in this great keyboard work, but develops ideas on its place and time both in the present, as well as the alliances formed between the circumstantial and the timeless – qualities and values inherent in the music itself, and the ways in which these can be approached and adapted by players over time.
This is a probing intellectual interpretation which on occasion displays dazzling feats of speed, but which is more often a more introverted exploration of the piece. It is almost as if Pienaar is playing for his own satisfaction, and leaving it up to us to decide whether we want to listen and take the journey with him. The compact timing reflects brisk tempi at times, but the unhurried feel of the playing and a minimum of ornamentation also allows a highly selective observation of repeats to remain a credible choice. Pienaar doesn’t work much with ‘variation within variations’, so there is no sense we are being cheated out of colourful technical insights and improvisational touches by not hearing certain bars come around for a second time.
Comparisons can be made ad nauseam, but looking at another recent take on the Goldberg Variations by Nick van Bloss on the Nimbus Alliance label shows how personality shades identical music into fascinatingly different manifestations. Bloss is the more extrovert of the two, seeking wit in the music and cheekily expressing it with effects like an occasional extra octave wallop in the bass. This ‘vibe’ turns his performance into more of a public experience – no less well considered than Pienaar’s, but introducing Bach to the bustle and language of the street: the call of market traders and the revving of motors. Bloss’s Bach isn’t rough and ready, but is easily the more resistant to external knocks and blows, and in this way is more of a challenge to Glenn Gould’s 1955 Goldberg Variations, the recording which gave the work and its performer such a remarkable hit status at that time.
This is not to say Daniel-Ben Pienaar’s recording is weak-willed and softly undemonstrative, but there is a gentler side to his playing – perhaps also a side-effect of a rather rounded piano sound – which brings out the warmth in the heart of the music rather than its big venue street-cred. There is bounce and life where Bach demands it, in the first variation for instance, and this sets the pace for the first grouping of variations which concludes with a rousing Variatio 4. Extremes of speed are a feature of some variations, and Variatio 5 is the first such example, acting as little more than a prelude to Variatio 6. Pienaar’s sensitivity to Bach’s dance style is demonstrated in a Giga which barely touches the floor, so light is his touch on the keyboard. The second grouping of variations has its finale in a robust performance of the Variatio 10 Fughetta. Central to the next group is the expressive Variatio 13, in which the little inner rubati which Pienaar uses make the performance seem that much more reflective and yes, introverted. The sound appears almost to want to stay within the case of the piano, rather than broadcast to the last row of an invisible audience. This is not to say the playing is timid, but you could equally imagine this as a clavichord performance. Variatio 14 blows away the mood created in a horizontal shower of sparkling notes, again making it a sort of prelude to the gently eloquent lines of Variatio 15, which concludes another ‘block’ within Pienaar’s structuring of the piece.
The conjoining of variations is a feature of a slow, almost tentative sounding Variatio 20, which serves as a launching point for an arguable too swift and brutal Variatio 21, which goes at a speed too fast for our minds to keep up. The expressive highlights of Variatio 21, 22 and 25 are all done marvellously, though without extremes of slowness or attempts to seek too far beyond Bach’s notes beyond what is already so miraculous on the page. Pienaar does dive for pearls, but not in a disproportionate sense – no need for extra breathing apparatus, though the atmosphere is breathtaking. He writes of the ‘return home’ of the Quodlibet in the way that “the use of folk songs suggests quite literally a return to shared ancestral roots.” In this way the final repeat of the Aria is more of a coda and a release, the feeling of which is palpably expressed by Daniel Ben-Pienaar.
As a bonus to the Goldberg Variations we are given a continuous passacaglia version of the Fourteen Canons BWV 1087, which are based on the first eight bass notes of the Aria from the Goldberg Variations. I’ve been intrigued by these little gems for a while now, but while Pienaar’s more lively moments are good you have to get used to his overly straight opening and an occasional over-prominence of the bass line in places. If you want to discover these fascinating canons have a listen to the Hänssler Bach Edition Musikalisches Opfer CD 92.133 which, along with the canons BWV 1072-78 is the version which convinced me that J.S. Bach was one of the first minimalist composers, even to the point of momentarily confounding our reviewer. Pienaar’s programme concludes with a lovely prayer-like performance of Bist du bei mir from Bach’s Anna Magdalena Notebook, the source of the Aria from the Goldberg Variations, or at least where it sees its first appearance in Bach’s manuscripts.
To conclude, this is a superbly expressive and atmospheric recording of the Goldberg Variations. One may not quite agree with the occasional extremes of tempo, but there is little doubting the jigsaw-puzzle accuracy and attention to detail with which Daniel-Ben Pienaar has formed his shaping of this masterpiece. Subsequent to my review of the Mozart sonatas I was contacted with regard to the piano sound, which one commentator found rather ‘harsh, full of reverb, somewhat lacking in definition’. I’m still quite happy with the sound quality of this, though I partially take the point about the reverb and definition. This Bach was recorded at the same location and the reverb is less by comparison; the instrument that touch closer to the microphones, something which can make all the difference. It’s perhaps not quite ‘demonstration’ piano sound with a little more mid-range bloom than makes for perfection, but is still very good.
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
Moving On
Naïve
CD
$9.49
$18.99
Save 50%
May 03, 2024
THE CELEBRATED PIANIST JACKY TERRASSON, HAILED BY THE NEW YORK TIMES AS "ONE OF THE THIRTY ARTISTS POISED TO SHAPE THE TRAJECTORY OF AMERICAN CULTURE," UNVEILS "MOVING ON". BACK IN FRANCE AFTER THREE DECADES IN NEW YORK, HE ORGANIZES A DOUBLE NATIONALITY TREASURE HUNT, MIXING CHOPIN AND JAZZ, WITH GUEST ARTISTS SUCH AS KAREEN GUIOCK-THURAM, CAMILLE BERTAULT AND GRÉGOIRE MARET. WITH A NEW-FOUND JOIE DE VIVRE, EACH PIECE TELLS AN ADVENTURE, A STORY, A DELICATE CELEBRATION OF HAPPINESS.
Introduced in The New York Times in 1994 as "one of the thirty artists poised to shape the trajectory of American culture in the following three decades," pianist Jacky Terrasson has lived up to this acclaim by becoming the most widely heard French jazz musician on digital platforms. Born in Berlin in 1965 to an American mother and a French father, he pursued studies in classical piano in France before enrolling at the Berklee College of Music. In 1993, he clinched the prestigious Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz International Piano Competition.
He began his career alongside luminaries such as Betty Carter, Dee Dee Bridgewater, Cassandra Wilson, Charles Aznavour, Guy Lafitte, Barney Wilen, and Ray Brown. Terrasson made his mark. Signing with the legendary Blue Note label under the stewardship of its iconic president, Bruce Lundvall, he embarked on a remarkable 25-year journey of success. An indefatigable globetrotter, he graces the stages of the most illustrious jazz and piano festivals across Europe, the United States, South America, and Asia.
"Moving On," the title of Jacky Terrasson’s new album perfectly sums up the new aspirations "of the most traveling of jazz pianists, a pianist of happiness" (Telerama). After being the muse of the majors (Blue Note & Universal), it is a new adventure as an artist producer and a new path that Jacky Terrasson decided to begin by creating his own label (Earth Sounds). It is also, after 30 years spent in New York, his choice to live again in France, the country where he grew up. But also continue to play regularly on the American continent, a subtle treasure hunt between leaving and returning to the two countries of his dual nationality. It also means offering two trio recording sessions (in France and New York) for the same record with numerous guests: the singers Kareen Guiock-Thuram and Camille Bertault, the harmonica player Grégoire Maret, and the drummers Billy Hart and Eric Harland. And finally, fully embrace his thirst to bring together a Chopin prelude with a jazz standard (Besame Mucho), to invite a bird recorded in Borneo which becomes a piece (Edit Piaf), to write and compose music for his friends (Are you following me, put into words by Camille Bertault), for his desires (Love Light), his travels (AF 006), and to be happy (Happy by Pharell Williams like a fireworks display almost bringing together all the musicians on the album). Behind each title hides an adventure, a story, depth, and the desire to always want to enjoy life with delicacy.
15 titles, including 8 exclusive to the CD edition.
What Sweeter Music: Songs & Carols for Christmas / Tenebrae
Signum Classics
CD
$19.99
Jan 01, 2009
Nigel Short and his choir of professional singers, Tenebrae, made their debut on disc with a CD of music for Advent and Christmas, released in 2002, entitled The Dream of Herod (SIGCD046). They return to seasonal music with this CD, most of which is brand new, though a few tracks were recorded a while ago.
The programme is divided, broadly, into three categories. Quite a number of items are modern arrangements of old favourites. Nigel Short himself contributes very pleasing arrangements of Quem Pastores? and Away in a Manger. Both of these are not only effective but seem also to evidence affection for the original carols. Though some may feel the performance of Away in a Manger is rather on the slow side there’s no denying the chaste purity of the setting and the unnamed solo soprano who sings verse one does so exquisitely. Jonathan Rathbone’s arrangement of Silent Night is also very welcome, encasing the familiar tune in slow-moving close harmonies. While enjoying these and other new arrangements of old standards, however, it’s good to find that, just like his descants for popular congregational carols, the arrangements by Sir David Willcocks of Quelle est cette odeur agreeable? and Tomorrow Shall be my Dancing Day more than stand the test of time.
Mention of Sir David in a Christmas context inevitably leads one to the name of John Rutter. In fact I believe that Sir David was instrumental in starting Rutter off on his immensely successful career by championing Nativity Carol, one of his very earliest Christmas pieces, which he wrote while still a Cambridge undergraduate. Here it is once more, beautifully sung by Tenebrae. Incidentally, though one very often hears it accompanied by orchestra I prefer it with a gentle organ accompaniment - as here - since that reinforces the intimacy of this lovely little carol. Nigel Short has chosen two more Rutter carols, both of which I think are among Rutter’s finest. He and his expert choir give exquisite, controlled performances of What Sweeter Music? and There is a Flower, though I have to say that the former is taken a bit slowly for my taste - I seem to recall that Rutter himself, in his own recording, was just a touch swifter, to the music’s advantage. There is a Flower opens and closes with a solo voice. Previously, in my experience, this has been a treble or soprano but here the solo is allotted to a baritone. Though the singer does well I don’t think the choice quite works; when sung by a male voice the melody - and the words - rather loses the pure innocence that a high voice can bring.
The Rutter items fall into the second category of offerings in this programme: original compositions. We also find Tavener’s The Lamb and Howells’s A Spotless Rose. Both are beautifully done but, though I greatly admire both settings, I do feel that their near-ubiquity in programmes such as this is in danger of devaluing them and making them seem routine. I acknowledge that both are popular items - deservedly so - and that popularity sells discs but it would be nice if choirs remembered that Howells in particular wrote several other fine Christmas settings. By comparison, Adrian Peacock’s Veni, veni is scarcely well known but I hope its exposure here will encourage other choirs to investigate it for it is a good piece that grows in excitement from almost nothing until it reaches an abrupt end.
But if I had to single out one piece deserving of wide currency then I’d unhesitatingly nominate Jonathan Rathbone’s The Oxen. In the booklet Nigel Short describes this as a “ravishing setting” and he’s spot on in that judgement. Rathbone takes Thomas Hardy’s poem and clothes it in wonderful, luminous close harmonies that move gently and slowly. This hushed setting for unaccompanied voices struck me as a superb response to the poem and when I played the disc for the first time I replayed this item immediately on hearing it. I just regret that it’s followed immediately on the disc by the necessarily boisterous Gaudete, which rather breaks the spell that Rathbone has cast.
The third category of music in the programme accommodates the lighter, secular pieces. Jingle Bells is presented in a clever, jazzy arrangement and Nigel Short’s version of We Wish You a Merry Christmas is also effective. Best of the three items in this category, I think, is Andrew Carter’s The Twelve Days of Christmas. This is ingenious and entertaining, though I’ll reserve judgement on the farmyard noises that the singers contribute, presumably at Carter’s behest.
Tenebrae perform these three secular items with evident relish and, indeed, the technical accomplishment that’s in evidence throughout this recital is of the highest order. They bring an effortless excellence to all their singing and deliver the entire programme with supreme professionalism and a good deal of commitment. I can see this disc giving a lot of pleasure this Christmas; I shall certainly be listening to it with great enjoyment during the Festive Season.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
The programme is divided, broadly, into three categories. Quite a number of items are modern arrangements of old favourites. Nigel Short himself contributes very pleasing arrangements of Quem Pastores? and Away in a Manger. Both of these are not only effective but seem also to evidence affection for the original carols. Though some may feel the performance of Away in a Manger is rather on the slow side there’s no denying the chaste purity of the setting and the unnamed solo soprano who sings verse one does so exquisitely. Jonathan Rathbone’s arrangement of Silent Night is also very welcome, encasing the familiar tune in slow-moving close harmonies. While enjoying these and other new arrangements of old standards, however, it’s good to find that, just like his descants for popular congregational carols, the arrangements by Sir David Willcocks of Quelle est cette odeur agreeable? and Tomorrow Shall be my Dancing Day more than stand the test of time.
Mention of Sir David in a Christmas context inevitably leads one to the name of John Rutter. In fact I believe that Sir David was instrumental in starting Rutter off on his immensely successful career by championing Nativity Carol, one of his very earliest Christmas pieces, which he wrote while still a Cambridge undergraduate. Here it is once more, beautifully sung by Tenebrae. Incidentally, though one very often hears it accompanied by orchestra I prefer it with a gentle organ accompaniment - as here - since that reinforces the intimacy of this lovely little carol. Nigel Short has chosen two more Rutter carols, both of which I think are among Rutter’s finest. He and his expert choir give exquisite, controlled performances of What Sweeter Music? and There is a Flower, though I have to say that the former is taken a bit slowly for my taste - I seem to recall that Rutter himself, in his own recording, was just a touch swifter, to the music’s advantage. There is a Flower opens and closes with a solo voice. Previously, in my experience, this has been a treble or soprano but here the solo is allotted to a baritone. Though the singer does well I don’t think the choice quite works; when sung by a male voice the melody - and the words - rather loses the pure innocence that a high voice can bring.
The Rutter items fall into the second category of offerings in this programme: original compositions. We also find Tavener’s The Lamb and Howells’s A Spotless Rose. Both are beautifully done but, though I greatly admire both settings, I do feel that their near-ubiquity in programmes such as this is in danger of devaluing them and making them seem routine. I acknowledge that both are popular items - deservedly so - and that popularity sells discs but it would be nice if choirs remembered that Howells in particular wrote several other fine Christmas settings. By comparison, Adrian Peacock’s Veni, veni is scarcely well known but I hope its exposure here will encourage other choirs to investigate it for it is a good piece that grows in excitement from almost nothing until it reaches an abrupt end.
But if I had to single out one piece deserving of wide currency then I’d unhesitatingly nominate Jonathan Rathbone’s The Oxen. In the booklet Nigel Short describes this as a “ravishing setting” and he’s spot on in that judgement. Rathbone takes Thomas Hardy’s poem and clothes it in wonderful, luminous close harmonies that move gently and slowly. This hushed setting for unaccompanied voices struck me as a superb response to the poem and when I played the disc for the first time I replayed this item immediately on hearing it. I just regret that it’s followed immediately on the disc by the necessarily boisterous Gaudete, which rather breaks the spell that Rathbone has cast.
The third category of music in the programme accommodates the lighter, secular pieces. Jingle Bells is presented in a clever, jazzy arrangement and Nigel Short’s version of We Wish You a Merry Christmas is also effective. Best of the three items in this category, I think, is Andrew Carter’s The Twelve Days of Christmas. This is ingenious and entertaining, though I’ll reserve judgement on the farmyard noises that the singers contribute, presumably at Carter’s behest.
Tenebrae perform these three secular items with evident relish and, indeed, the technical accomplishment that’s in evidence throughout this recital is of the highest order. They bring an effortless excellence to all their singing and deliver the entire programme with supreme professionalism and a good deal of commitment. I can see this disc giving a lot of pleasure this Christmas; I shall certainly be listening to it with great enjoyment during the Festive Season.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
LITTLE GIRL BLUE
JAZZ IMAGES
Vinyl
$26.09
Feb 20, 2026
Little Girl Blue, released in 1957, was Nina Simone's first studio recording ever. Many of the tracks from this LP would become true classics, among them her perennial versions of "I Loves You Porgy" and "My Baby Just Cares For Me". THE COMPLETE LP 180-GRAM BLUE COLORED VINYL INCLUDES PHOTOS BY RENOWNED FRENCH JAZZ PHOTOGRAPHER JEAN-PIERRE LELOIR LIMITED EDITION
ULTIMATE COLLECTION
REAL GONE MUSIC
CD
$57.82
Mar 06, 2026
ULTIMATE COLLECTION STEVE LAWRENCE / EYDI GORME The first track on this 4-CD set is "This Could Be the Start of Something Big," and it sure is: here, at last, is the Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme collection all of their fans have been waiting for, the biggest and (by far) best-sounding set ever devoted to the pair of legendary pop vocalists. Under the supervision of their son David Lawrence (who contributes a personal note to the booklet), we've gone back to the original tapes for most of these 72 tracks; some of these have never appeared on CD, and, with Eric Boulanger's new remastering, the ones that have come out sound much better than they did before. Disc One, "Duet Classics," features such career touchstones for the couple as "Baby It's Cold Outside," "For Once in Your Life," and "We Got Us." Disc Two, "Steve Classics," brings the hits with "Portrait of My Love," "Footsteps," and "Go Away Little Girl" along with such signature renditions as "I've Gotta Be Me" and "I Want to Be with You" and even an unreleased track, "You and I." Eydie takes over (and how!) on Disc Three with such smashes as "Blame It on the Bossa Nova," "What Did I Have That I Don't Have," "If He Walked into My Life," "Tonight I'll Say a Prayer, and her Spanish-language classic with Trio Los Panchos, "Sabor a Mi." And Disc Four revels in the duo's love of Broadway with songs like "Mama, A Rainbow," "The Ladies Who Lunch," "Two on the Aisle," and the uproarious "The Honeymoon Is Over." Like this collection, Joe Marchese's liner notes follow Steve and Eydie's career every step of the way, and we've included some rare photos courtesy of the estate. The ultimate collection indeed, the comprehensive, career-spanning collection these two icons have long deserved!
D'Albert: Symphony in F / Markl, MDR SO
Naxos
CD
$9.99
$19.99
Save 50%
Feb 26, 2013
D’ALBERT Tiefland: Symphonic Prologue. Symphony in F, Op. 4 • Jun Märkl, cond; MDR Leipzig RSO • NAXOS 8.572805 (62:40)
A recording of Eugen d’Albert’s early Symphony in F Major appeared on CPO three years ago and was reviewed by James A. Altena in 33:6. That version was conducted by Herman Bäumer leading the Osnabrücker Symphony Orchestra. D’Albert’s life story is reasonably well known, so it needn’t be recapped at length. In short, he was born in Glasgow, studied in London, and at 17 won a scholarship to study in Austria. There he was so taken with Austro-German music and culture that he repudiated his English training as worthless and from that day forward considered himself a right and proper German. He studied with Liszt, met Brahms, and built a career as one of the foremost piano virtuosos of his day. Between 1904 and 1905, d’Albert toured the U.S., and in 1907 succeeded Joseph Joachim as director of Berlin’s Hochschulefür Musik. D’Albert counted among his circle of associates and friends, Richard Strauss, who dedicated his Burleske to him, Hans Pfitzner, Engelbert Humperdinck, and Ignatz Waghalter (see the interview with Irmina Trynkos in 36:3). D’Albert’s personal life was a bit of a mess. Like Henry VIII, he married and divorced six times, though as far as we know, all of d’Albert’s wives kept their heads. When connubial contentment eluded him, he comforted himself in the arms of a mistress. His love of Germany and all things German must have soured when the First World War broke out, for in 1914, he moved to Zurich and became a Swiss citizen. He died, however, in Riga, Latvia, where he’d traveled to secure a divorce from his sixth wife.
Little by little d’Albert’s interest in composing began to overtake his career as a pianist. His output is not insignificant. It includes 21 operas, of which the seventh, Tiefland , first staged in 1903, was a major success, playing in houses around the world. It still holds the boards today, though mainly in Austria and Germany. Other works include a Cello Concerto, two piano concertos (available on Volume 9 of Hyperion’s “Romantic Piano Concerto” series), a couple of string quartets, an overture to Grillparzer’s Esther , a Piano Sonata, a handful of solo piano pieces, and lots and lots of songs.
Note: d’Albert composed the overture to Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience in 1881, just prior to his departure for Austria. Except for the cello concerto, the two piano concertos, the symphony on this disc, and his opera, Tiefland , plus several recordings of excerpts therefrom, not a lot else by d’Albert has found its way onto disc.
Another note: if you’re searching ArkivMusic for d’Albert, you’ll find him listed under the letter “A,” as Albert, Eugène d’—odd, since the site lists D’Indy as D’Indy, Vincent. Maybe it has something to do with the lowercase “d” vs. the uppercase “D.” Amazon and the Fanfare Archive put d’Albert under “D,” but the Archive purges the apostrophe, giving his name as dAlbert. How many ways can you spell “dog?” How about “dawg?”
I concur in the opinion of others that d’Albert’s compositional strength lies mainly in his mastery of the craft; his thematic ideas lend themselves well to development and he knows his way around the orchestra. I find it a bit more difficult, however, to concur with colleague Altena that Brahms and Schumann are ever-present in d’Albert’s 1886 symphony. If you’ve not heard the piece before, my guess is you would find its soundscape rather generic, as if fashioned from some factory-made, synthetic, wash-and-wear fabric. The garment fits the style of the day, but the pants are somehow baggy and nondescript. Granted, d’Albert was only 22 when he composed his one and only symphony, but attractive as it is in the moment, it’s not the sort of work whose melodies or other features linger.
If the opening strains of the Symphonic Prologue to Tiefland recall the opening of the Scène aux champs movement from Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique , it’s with good reason. D’Albert is painting a similar pastoral scene in which two shepherds are heard calling to each other on their pipes. Following that, the music seems to meander along a path on which it first meets, greets, and passes Wagner, only to encounter Debussy around the next bend walking his poodles, Pelléas et Mélisande . I confess to never having heard d’Albert’s opera, Tiefland , but if the rest of it is anything like the Prologue, I can understand the work’s success; it’s actually quite alluring, more so I would say than the symphony. But then the symphony is one of the composer’s earliest orchestral efforts—only the Piano Concerto No. 1 of 1884 predates it—whereas Tiefland came after d’Albert’s self-styled conversion to German-hood, and is a mature work by a composer already seasoned in writing for the stage by six previous operas.
I’m unfortunately not familiar with the CPO recording Altena reviewed, but this current release by Jun Märkl and the MDR Leipzig Radio Symphony Orchestra strikes me as eminently satisfactory. Playing and recording are both topnotch, and if you’re not acquainted with d’Albert’s music, this disc, at Naxos’s budget price, is an excellent way to gain some familiarity with it—enough, at least, to know whether you might care to explore further. On those grounds, recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Brigadoon & Kiss Me Kate - Original Television Soundtracks / Robert Goulet
Sony Masterworks
CD
$17.99
Mar 04, 2014
Long before Carrie Underwood in The Sound of Music, network television was regularly airing versions of Broadway musicals in the 1950's and '60s. Following his blazing introduction in Camelot, Robert Goulet had become one of the hottest actors of the time. Capitalizing on his fame, the ABC network showcased Goulet in live broadcasts of Brigadoon in 1966 and Kiss Me, Kate in 1968. Lerner and Loewe's Brigadoon features Goulet with Peter Falk and Sally Ann Howes, and Cole Porter's Kiss Me, Kate stars his then-wife, Carol Lawrence, as well as Jessica Walter and Michael Callan.
Tracks:
KISS ME, KATE
1. Overture 2:42 - Orchestra
2. Another Op’nin’, Another Show 2:12 - Ensemble
3. Why Can’t You Behave 1:53 - Jessica Walter
4. Wunderbar 2:32 - Robert Goulet and Carol Lawrence
5. So In Love 3:00 - Carol Lawrence
6.We Open in Venice 2:08 - Robert Goulet, Carol Lawrence, Jessica Walter, Michael Callan and Chorus
7. I Hate Men 2:18 - Carol Lawrence
8. I’ve Come to Wive It Wealthily in Padua 2:14 - Robert Goulet
9. Tom, Dick or Harry 2:29 - Jessica Walter, Michael Callan, Tony Hendra and Nick Ullett
10. Were Thine That Special Face 2:34 - Robert Goulet
11. Too Darn Hot 2:27 - Michael Callan and Chorus
12. So Kiss Me, Kate 0:47 - Robert Goulet, Carol Lawrence and Chorus
13. Where Is the Life That Late I Led 4:17 - Robert Goulet
14. Always True to You in My Fashion 2:44 - Jessica Walter
15. So In Love (Reprise) 3:10 - Robert Goulet
16. Brush Up Your Shakespeare 2:46 - Jules Munshin and Marty Ingels
17. I Am Ashamed That Women Are So Simple 1:37 - Carol Lawrence
18. Finale 0:46 - Ensemble
BRIGADOON
19. Overture 4:05 - Orchestra
20.Brigadoon 1:44 - Chorus
21. Almost Like Being In Love 2:50 - Robert Goulet and Sally Ann Howes
22. McConnachy Square 1:58 - Marlyn Mason and Chorus
23. From This Day On 2:28 - Robert Goulet and Sally Ann Howes
24. Come to Me, Bend to Me 3:26 - Tommy Carlisle
25. The Heather on the Hill 4:24 - Robert Goulet and Sally Ann Howes
26. Waiting for My Dearie 1:46 - Sally Ann Howes
27. I’ll Go Home with Bonnie Jean 3:07 - Tommy Carlisle and Chorus
28. There But for You Go I 2:47 - Robert Goulet
29. Brigadoon (Reprise) 1:12 - Chorus
Tracks:
KISS ME, KATE
1. Overture 2:42 - Orchestra
2. Another Op’nin’, Another Show 2:12 - Ensemble
3. Why Can’t You Behave 1:53 - Jessica Walter
4. Wunderbar 2:32 - Robert Goulet and Carol Lawrence
5. So In Love 3:00 - Carol Lawrence
6.We Open in Venice 2:08 - Robert Goulet, Carol Lawrence, Jessica Walter, Michael Callan and Chorus
7. I Hate Men 2:18 - Carol Lawrence
8. I’ve Come to Wive It Wealthily in Padua 2:14 - Robert Goulet
9. Tom, Dick or Harry 2:29 - Jessica Walter, Michael Callan, Tony Hendra and Nick Ullett
10. Were Thine That Special Face 2:34 - Robert Goulet
11. Too Darn Hot 2:27 - Michael Callan and Chorus
12. So Kiss Me, Kate 0:47 - Robert Goulet, Carol Lawrence and Chorus
13. Where Is the Life That Late I Led 4:17 - Robert Goulet
14. Always True to You in My Fashion 2:44 - Jessica Walter
15. So In Love (Reprise) 3:10 - Robert Goulet
16. Brush Up Your Shakespeare 2:46 - Jules Munshin and Marty Ingels
17. I Am Ashamed That Women Are So Simple 1:37 - Carol Lawrence
18. Finale 0:46 - Ensemble
BRIGADOON
19. Overture 4:05 - Orchestra
20.Brigadoon 1:44 - Chorus
21. Almost Like Being In Love 2:50 - Robert Goulet and Sally Ann Howes
22. McConnachy Square 1:58 - Marlyn Mason and Chorus
23. From This Day On 2:28 - Robert Goulet and Sally Ann Howes
24. Come to Me, Bend to Me 3:26 - Tommy Carlisle
25. The Heather on the Hill 4:24 - Robert Goulet and Sally Ann Howes
26. Waiting for My Dearie 1:46 - Sally Ann Howes
27. I’ll Go Home with Bonnie Jean 3:07 - Tommy Carlisle and Chorus
28. There But for You Go I 2:47 - Robert Goulet
29. Brigadoon (Reprise) 1:12 - Chorus
Martucci: Piano Concerto No 1, Etc / Coggi, La Vecchia
Naxos
CD
$19.99
May 26, 2009
MARTUCCI Piano Concerto No. 1. 1 La canzone dei ricordi 2 • Francesco La Vecchia, cond; Gesualdo Coggi (pn); 1 Silvia Pasini (mez); 2 Rome SO • NAXOS 8.570931 (67:53 Text, no Translation )
Giuseppe Martucci (1856–1909) was a forerunner to the so-called “generazione dell’ottanta” of composers (see Malipiero review elsewhere) that sought to initiate a new golden age of instrumental music in Italy to vie against the overwhelming dominance of opera. Most of those who would follow in his footsteps—and the list is long, including the likes of Casella, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Menotti, Pizzetti, Respighi, Rota, Wolf-Ferrari, and Zandonai—hedged their bets by playing both sides of the fence; but Martucci was unique for his time and place in that he wrote no operas whatsoever. Ironically though, in his role as a conductor, introducing Wagner’s operas to Italy may have done more to poison the well of Italian opera than any of his works as a composer did to stanch the opera rage. If you can’t lead the cattle away from the watering hole, do the next best thing: contaminate the water and kill them.
During his lifetime, Martucci was best known as a conductor, pianist, and teacher, Respighi being one of his more prominent students. His compositional output is not overly large, totaling fewer than 100 published opus numbers. Among them, however, are two symphonies, two piano concertos, two piano trios, a piano quintet, one sonata each for violin, cello, and organ, and a considerable volume of pieces for solo piano.
The current release—Volume 3 in Naxos’s complete survey of Martucci’s orchestral music—contains works that are not new to the recorded catalog. The Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Minor and La canzone dei ricordi were both coupled together, as here, in another Martucci survey a decade or so ago on the ASV label. The artists there were pianist Francesco Caramiello in the Concerto, soprano Rachel Yakar in the vocal work, and Francesco D’Avalos leading the Philharmonia Orchestra. That entire collection is now available in a super-budget four-disc set on Brilliant Classics. At about the same time that ASV was busy with their Martucci project, along came Sony with their release of the composer’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in B? Minor played by pianist Carlo Bruni, paired once again with La canzone dei ricordi , sung by Mirella Freni. The conductor and orchestra on that recording were Riccardo Muti and La Scala Philharmonic.
The good news is that I have the Freni/Muti CD, so I’m able to compare the Sony recording with the new Naxos. The bad news is that of the D’Avalos survey on ASV, I have only the two symphonies, but not the disc with the Piano Concerto; thus, I’m unable to compare Caramiello to Coggi. So let me begin with La canzone dei ricordi (“The Songs of Memories”), which seems to be one of Martucci’s more enduring works. As originally completed in 1887, the piece was conceived for mezzo-soprano and piano. It wasn’t until 11 years later (1898) that Martucci orchestrated it. The piece is a setting of seven poems by Rocco Pagliera. Unless one is fluent in Italian, Naxos’s printing of the texts in Italian only is highly frustrating. The Sony with Freni provides translations in English, French, and German.
The poems, as can be deduced from the work’s title, are about dreams recollected, mostly of longed-for, but alas, only imagined loves. More interesting are Martucci’s formal design and musical content. Each song ends in a different key from which it started. The song that follows it begins in the key in which the previous song ended. Thus, by the end, we have returned to the key and the poem with which the cycle began. Stylistically, Martucci’s indebtedness to Wagner is unmistakable, but it’s a Wagner tinted—some might say tainted—by some of Puccini’s more pastel orchestral touches that one hears in La bohème . Martucci undoubtedly knew the opera, which premiered in 1896, two years before his orchestration of La canzone dei ricordi.
Freni was 60 when she recorded the Martucci with Muti in 1995. Age had added a degree of weight to a soprano voice that in its youth was lighter and more lyric in character. I’m not suggesting she would have made a good Brunhilde, but her projection in these songs comes across as sounding more Wagnerian than does Silvia Pasini’s delivery on the new Naxos. Nor by any means is it just a matter of voice. Freni dispatches the cycle in just over 28 minutes, compared to Pasini’s drawn-out 33:50. The result is that Freni’s reading has tremendous dramatic thrust, frequently sounding like an agitated Brunhilde railing in high dudgeon against Wotan, while Pasini sounds more like Mimi in her “Mi chiamano Mimì” aria from La bohème.
If my description has led you to believe that I prefer Freni to Pasini in this song cycle, you’d be wrong. Martucci may have been a Wagner champion, but he was not Wagner; and Pagliera’s poems, to which Martucci set his music, are not about mythic warriors, heroes, and the downfall of the gods. They’re about dreams remembered in that half-conscious state of waking. Pasini, I believe, comes closer to capturing the more impressionistic character of the poetry and the music; and Francesco La Vecchia has under him in the Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma a better ensemble than Muti did at the time in his La Scala Philharmonic.
Since I have no other recordings of the Piano Concerto against which to compare Gesualdo Coggi’s performance, I can be brief. If you love big, Romantic piano concertos, Martucci’s D-Minor Concerto is right up there with some of the best of them. Echoes of Schumann, Grieg, and Brahms’s First Concerto (his Second hadn’t been completed yet when Martucci wrote his score in 1878) reverberate throughout the score, and maybe even a hint every now and then of Tchaikovsky (assuming Martucci had heard it in its original 1875 version prior to starting work on his own Concerto). Gorgeous music, gorgeous playing, gorgeous recording; this one is not to be missed.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Shakespeare Overtures Vol 1 / Penny, West Australian Symphony
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Sep 28, 2010
Also available: Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Shakespeare Overtures, Vol. 2 / Penny, West Australian Symphony
CASTELNUOVO-TEDESCO Julius Caesar, op. 78. The Taming of the Shrew, op. 61. Antony and Cleopatra, op. 134. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, op. 108. The Tragedy of Coriolanus, op. 135. Twelfth Night, op. 73 • Andrew Penny, cond; West Australian SO • NAXOS 8.572500 (65:07)
Who knew that Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco wrote overtures to 11 of Shakespeare’s plays? Not I and apparently not many others either, as every one of the works on this disc is claimed to be a world premiere recording. Naxos labels it Volume 1, so a companion CD containing the remaining five overtures— The Merchant of Venice, Much Ado about Nothing, As You Like It, The Winter’s Tale , and King John —is expected.
If you know Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895–1968) by anything other than his famous D-Major Guitar Concerto, possibly his Violin Concerto titled “The Prophets,” and perhaps a few of his Jewish-themed choral works included in the Milken Archive of American Jewish Music project distributed on Naxos, you’re doing better than I am. Here is a composer with a catalog of more than 200 works—and that’s just the ones with opus numbers—who has simply never achieved recognition commensurate with the volume and quality of his output.
His “sin,” no more and no less than that of his close Italian contemporaries—Casella, Pizzetti, Malipiero, and Respighi—was to be born at a time and place where composing music in a late-Romantic and Impressionist style was regarded as regressive and reactionary by the modernists elsewhere on the Continent. Of this group, only Respighi seems to have enjoyed more or less permanent staying power. But Castelnuovo-Tedesco (hereinafter referred to as C-T for short) struggled against a second bias. Under Mussolini, Italy’s Jews may not have suffered the same fate as did their German, Austrian, and Polish co-religionists under Hitler, but fascist Italy was still not the friendliest place for a Jewish composer.
So in 1938, C-T left for the U.S., where he soon found work, as did so many other composers who fled Europe in those years, in the film industry. MGM Studios embraced him with open arms, and over the next several years he contributed to the scores of more than 200 films, all the while continuing to compose concert music. He became one of the most sought-after composition teachers in Los Angeles, taking on as students André Previn, Henry Mancini, and John Williams.
The first impression to strike one about these Shakespeare overtures is their made-for-the-movies character. This is not intended to be uncomplimentary; rather, it’s an observation of the vividly colored orchestration and the sweeping cinematic panoramas the music seems to encompass. Of the 11 overtures, six of them were written after C-T had arrived in the U.S. and taken up with the Hollywood crowd. Three of these— A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1940), Antony and Cleopatra (1947), and The Tragedy of Coriolanus (1947)—are on this volume. The earliest numbers—i.e., the five written while C-T was still in Italy—were The Taming of the Shrew (1930), followed by Twelfth Night (1933), The Merchant of Venice (1933), Julius Caesar (1934), and The Winter’s Tale (1935).
All of the overtures were conceived as stand-alone concert works, not as curtain-raisers to operas or incidental music to staged productions of the plays, and not as film music to accompany the rolling of the opening credits. As such, C-T’s overtures avoid storytelling; they do not attempt in a few minutes’ time to telescope the action of the plots. Instead, they take their cue from one or more specific events in the plays and develop a strictly musical narrative around them. This downplays programmatic associations and lends each overture a sense of structural integrity as a complete entity unto itself, worked out entirely in formal musical terms.
Over time, the overtures grew, not necessarily in length—though the 1947 Antony and Cleopatra expanded to nearly 18 minutes—but in ambition of orchestration. Where the 1930 Taming of the Shrew employs strings, double woodwinds, four horns, two trumpets, timpani, harp, piano, and percussion—hardly a modest-sized orchestra—the later overtures triple the winds and add English horn, contrabassoon, tuba, a second harp, tubular bells, glockenspiel, castanets, and a battery of various drums. Moreover, augmented string sections now find their parts frequently divided, and section leaders are highlighted in many striking solo passages. “The more grandiloquent moments,” observe Andrew Penny and Graham Wade in their booklet note, “anticipate the epic sweep of Miklós Rózsa’s film scores for Ben Hur or Quo Vadis of the 1950s.”
While certain parallels may exist, it should be emphasized that C-T’s overtures are serious symphonic works. They are not the stuff of movie soundtracks or, in arrangements, of summer-evening pops concerts. They are, however, not truly of their time—a statement that could apply to Respighi as well—in that they are big, bold, brightly painted musical billboards in a post-Romantic/Impressionist style that feature many of the same exoticisms and techniques one hears in scores like Respighi’s Roman Trilogy.
I take Naxos at its word that these are world premiere recordings; therefore, it is taken as an article of faith that other versions for comparison purposes do not exist. No matter, for the performances here by Andrew Penny and his West Australian Symphony Orchestra sound aces to me, and the recording has plenty of headroom for maximum impact in the music’s most massively scored passages. I can’t imagine why anyone would not be taken with these highly attractive scores. Definitely recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Thank God Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco's overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream doesn't sound anything like Mendelssohn: it's just a luscious bit of late-Romantic impressionism, and it's as lovely as it is concise. The big piece here is Antony and Cleopatra, nearly 18 exotic minutes of it, sounding rather like, well, the 1963 film score to Antony and Cleopatra (which was by Alex North, actually). The fact is that Castelnuovo-Tedesco had quite a successful career in Hollywood after swapping the fascism of his native Italy for the escapism of sunny California. The Taming of the Shrew is charming and witty, Coriolanus suitably somber, and Twelfth Night, rather like the play itself, mysterious and curiously elusive. All of the music is well played by the West Australian Symphony Orchestra under Andrew Penny--there are a few moments of iffy ensemble, but nothing to worry about, and the sonics are suitably vivid. Very enjoyable indeed.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
CASTELNUOVO-TEDESCO Julius Caesar, op. 78. The Taming of the Shrew, op. 61. Antony and Cleopatra, op. 134. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, op. 108. The Tragedy of Coriolanus, op. 135. Twelfth Night, op. 73 • Andrew Penny, cond; West Australian SO • NAXOS 8.572500 (65:07)
Who knew that Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco wrote overtures to 11 of Shakespeare’s plays? Not I and apparently not many others either, as every one of the works on this disc is claimed to be a world premiere recording. Naxos labels it Volume 1, so a companion CD containing the remaining five overtures— The Merchant of Venice, Much Ado about Nothing, As You Like It, The Winter’s Tale , and King John —is expected.
If you know Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895–1968) by anything other than his famous D-Major Guitar Concerto, possibly his Violin Concerto titled “The Prophets,” and perhaps a few of his Jewish-themed choral works included in the Milken Archive of American Jewish Music project distributed on Naxos, you’re doing better than I am. Here is a composer with a catalog of more than 200 works—and that’s just the ones with opus numbers—who has simply never achieved recognition commensurate with the volume and quality of his output.
His “sin,” no more and no less than that of his close Italian contemporaries—Casella, Pizzetti, Malipiero, and Respighi—was to be born at a time and place where composing music in a late-Romantic and Impressionist style was regarded as regressive and reactionary by the modernists elsewhere on the Continent. Of this group, only Respighi seems to have enjoyed more or less permanent staying power. But Castelnuovo-Tedesco (hereinafter referred to as C-T for short) struggled against a second bias. Under Mussolini, Italy’s Jews may not have suffered the same fate as did their German, Austrian, and Polish co-religionists under Hitler, but fascist Italy was still not the friendliest place for a Jewish composer.
So in 1938, C-T left for the U.S., where he soon found work, as did so many other composers who fled Europe in those years, in the film industry. MGM Studios embraced him with open arms, and over the next several years he contributed to the scores of more than 200 films, all the while continuing to compose concert music. He became one of the most sought-after composition teachers in Los Angeles, taking on as students André Previn, Henry Mancini, and John Williams.
The first impression to strike one about these Shakespeare overtures is their made-for-the-movies character. This is not intended to be uncomplimentary; rather, it’s an observation of the vividly colored orchestration and the sweeping cinematic panoramas the music seems to encompass. Of the 11 overtures, six of them were written after C-T had arrived in the U.S. and taken up with the Hollywood crowd. Three of these— A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1940), Antony and Cleopatra (1947), and The Tragedy of Coriolanus (1947)—are on this volume. The earliest numbers—i.e., the five written while C-T was still in Italy—were The Taming of the Shrew (1930), followed by Twelfth Night (1933), The Merchant of Venice (1933), Julius Caesar (1934), and The Winter’s Tale (1935).
All of the overtures were conceived as stand-alone concert works, not as curtain-raisers to operas or incidental music to staged productions of the plays, and not as film music to accompany the rolling of the opening credits. As such, C-T’s overtures avoid storytelling; they do not attempt in a few minutes’ time to telescope the action of the plots. Instead, they take their cue from one or more specific events in the plays and develop a strictly musical narrative around them. This downplays programmatic associations and lends each overture a sense of structural integrity as a complete entity unto itself, worked out entirely in formal musical terms.
Over time, the overtures grew, not necessarily in length—though the 1947 Antony and Cleopatra expanded to nearly 18 minutes—but in ambition of orchestration. Where the 1930 Taming of the Shrew employs strings, double woodwinds, four horns, two trumpets, timpani, harp, piano, and percussion—hardly a modest-sized orchestra—the later overtures triple the winds and add English horn, contrabassoon, tuba, a second harp, tubular bells, glockenspiel, castanets, and a battery of various drums. Moreover, augmented string sections now find their parts frequently divided, and section leaders are highlighted in many striking solo passages. “The more grandiloquent moments,” observe Andrew Penny and Graham Wade in their booklet note, “anticipate the epic sweep of Miklós Rózsa’s film scores for Ben Hur or Quo Vadis of the 1950s.”
While certain parallels may exist, it should be emphasized that C-T’s overtures are serious symphonic works. They are not the stuff of movie soundtracks or, in arrangements, of summer-evening pops concerts. They are, however, not truly of their time—a statement that could apply to Respighi as well—in that they are big, bold, brightly painted musical billboards in a post-Romantic/Impressionist style that feature many of the same exoticisms and techniques one hears in scores like Respighi’s Roman Trilogy.
I take Naxos at its word that these are world premiere recordings; therefore, it is taken as an article of faith that other versions for comparison purposes do not exist. No matter, for the performances here by Andrew Penny and his West Australian Symphony Orchestra sound aces to me, and the recording has plenty of headroom for maximum impact in the music’s most massively scored passages. I can’t imagine why anyone would not be taken with these highly attractive scores. Definitely recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Thank God Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco's overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream doesn't sound anything like Mendelssohn: it's just a luscious bit of late-Romantic impressionism, and it's as lovely as it is concise. The big piece here is Antony and Cleopatra, nearly 18 exotic minutes of it, sounding rather like, well, the 1963 film score to Antony and Cleopatra (which was by Alex North, actually). The fact is that Castelnuovo-Tedesco had quite a successful career in Hollywood after swapping the fascism of his native Italy for the escapism of sunny California. The Taming of the Shrew is charming and witty, Coriolanus suitably somber, and Twelfth Night, rather like the play itself, mysterious and curiously elusive. All of the music is well played by the West Australian Symphony Orchestra under Andrew Penny--there are a few moments of iffy ensemble, but nothing to worry about, and the sonics are suitably vivid. Very enjoyable indeed.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Beethoven, R. Schumann, Saint-Saëns: Symphonies for Piano Duo vol. 2 / Uys & Schoeman
SOMM Recordings
CD
$15.99
$20.99
Save 25%
Apr 29, 2022
SOMM Recordings is delighted to announce the eagerly-awaited second volume of the Tessa Uys and Ben Schoeman Piano Duo’s ground-breaking series exploring Franz Xaver Scharwenka’s transcriptions of Beethoven Symphonies. A composer of no mean stature in his own right, Scharwenka’s transcriptions were once widely admired, his treatments of Beethoven’s symphonies a high-watermark of the genre. Volume 1 (SOMMCD 0637) met with universal acclaim; Gramophone praising the “mastery” of the performances, BBC Music finding it “utterly beguiling” and MusicWeb International declaring “I was blown away by this magnificent recording”. Volume 2 features the first recording of Scharwenka’s transcription of Beethoven’s iconic Fifth Symphony for piano duet. Claiming a direct connection to Beethoven via his teacher Franz Kullak, who had studied with Beethoven’s pupil Carl Czerny, Scharwenka provides a virtuosic re-imagining of the Fifth’s tremendous scale, organic growth and seething energy. The Variations on a Theme of Beethoven by Saint-Saëns show him, Robert Matthew-Walker says in his informative booklet notes, “at his most brilliant and searching... beautiful, imposing and elegant, as well as humorous”. Robert Schumann’s Andante and Variations in B-flat reveal Romanticism’s quintessential musical poet at his most emotionally acute: “overhung with a pervading sense of intimacy, the music unfolds as a series of reflections upon the Andante theme, refracted in genuine variation styles of tempo, rhythm, tonalities (beautifully implied) and character”.
Review
Hot on the heels of the first volume of this enterprising series comes volume 2, this time including what is perhaps the most famous symphony of all time, Beethoven’s 5th, here given its world premiere recording in the transcription for piano duet by Franz Xavier Scharwenka.
As with the previous volume and the “Eroica” (see my earlier review here), the 5th needs no introduction or apologies and Scharwenka expects both pianists to be virtuosi. The opening chords are surprisingly not written for double octaves as might have been expected; Scharwenka saves those for later on when even more firepower is required. Again, throughout this transcription, multiple solutions are offered to deal with the problem of arranging a work for full orchestra for piano and all is superbly realised by the duo. The opening tempo for the first movement is perhaps a little slower than expected at the start but that is more than made up for later as both pianists flamboyantly navigate the complex writing. Also, as before, the notation is subtly arranged to make it playable on two pianos and this has the added bonus of making some detail clearer than in the orchestral version.
The second movement comes across very well too – all the details are present and presented via the medium of twenty fingers. The contrasts are beautifully pointed out: a sense of calm serenity pervades this music and the pianists respond excellently to the challenge. The rippling accompaniment starting at 2:39 - but also occurring elsewhere - is cleverly written and perfectly judged. There some surprises here too; harmonies are clarified and details that perhaps would normally be lost are brought to the fore. Both pianists make a superb job of this movement and it contains just as much drama as a performance for full orchestra. The fortissimo sections make an excellent contrast to the nervier and quieter moments and the ending of the movement, with its defiant chords, is splendid.
The Scherzo follows with its weird march like chords and repeated loud interruptions, all of which are again played with aplomb. The crazy scrambling section from about two minutes onwards sounds just perfect and the cunning interjections by the second pianist (I presume) that ultimately derail this trail of music are wittily done. The build up to the cheerful, blazing finale is excellently judged and that final ‘Allegro’ part starts with a bang, with bagfuls of virtuosity from both participants and continues in the same vein. There are lots of powerful tremolandos here, judiciously used and all of which add to the drama. The build up to the quieter section at about five minutes is excellently controlled and sounds absolutely right. The ending where Beethoven applies the brakes to the music before restarting again with renewed vigour is miraculously realised – listen out for the notes originally on the flutes in the last two minutes sounding almost woodwind-like but on a piano. The ending with sustained loud and powerful virtuosity from both performers is just brilliant. This is an awesome performance of a magnificent transcription; comparisons with Liszt’s transcription (S464 no.5) are perhaps inevitable but here Scharwenka has the advantage of using twice as many fingers so the overall effect is somewhat “fuller” than Liszt’s absolutely astounding and craftily realised version. This is another example of such a skilful transcription that you almost forget that the original was for full orchestra. I’ve run out of superlatives here, but suffice it to say that this performance is absolutely top notch and the joyfulness and intelligence of the performers and the committed nature of the playing make it absolutely worth hearing.
I should say that the Beethoven transcription is for piano four hands and played on a rather splendid sounding Fazoli piano whereas the remainder of the disc is played on two Steinway model Ds. There is little difference in the recording level or sounding between the instruments and I am more than happy to listen to either.
In a well-thought-through contrast to the blazing conclusion of the Beethoven transcription, Schumann’s rarely heard variations published as Op.46b follows next on this disc. This work exists in two versions – it was originally written for two pianos, two cellos and a horn but following a suggestion from Mendelssohn, Schumann later revised for just two pianos as heard here. These open quietly with a rather lovely slightly melancholy tune that receives a whole gamut of variation from beautifully quiet and reflective ones (heard at the outset of the piece) to bouncy march like ones (as at 4’50’’) and all points in between. As with the preceding Beethoven, the playing throughout is very intelligent and the two pianists react well to each other’s playing, producing a result full of musicality. The slower variations are deeply affecting and the quasi-funeral march one at about six minutes is especially good; the way it segues into the following faintly sad variation is perfectly handled. Schumann was, as usual, channelling his inner Florestan and Eusebius in the composition of this work but there is perhaps a slight preference for the latter, as overall the work has a dreamy and melancholy mood. Surprisingly, towards the end of the piece, Schumann brings back the opening theme completely unadorned, and uses it to generate a suitably fitting conclusion to this wonderful piece. I have to say that prior to hearing this recording I was only dimly aware of this work but on repeated listening, I have really grown to appreciate its many wonderful turns of phrase and clever writing.
The disc concludes with Saint-Saëns’ epic variations on a theme by Beethoven. As I have said before, this is a work that I have previously had issues with; I have no idea why but it just doesn’t strike me as the composers’ best work and it has always seemed a little laboured. However...I am now much fonder of the piece. The opening is mysterious and only hints at the theme which he uses (from the Trio of the Scherzo from Beethoven’s E flat Op.31 no. 3 Sonata – sometimes nicknamed “The Hunt”) but once the theme emerges, it is subjected to ten contrasted variations including a complex, virtuosic fugue. The opening variation is a scurrying, “catch me if you can” treatment of the theme in scales and is here played very fast, with plenty of wit and character. The following variation is a complete contrast: a rather lovely lyrical treatment of the theme with some clever darker episodes and throughout some nice examples of the pianists bouncing off one another to create a spontaneous atmosphere. Thirdly, a strange inverted version of the theme; again, the Scherzo like character here is abundantly obvious and the playing is excellent. Variation 4 is extremely entertaining: bouncy repeated chords and much interaction between the pianists who again spark well off each other. Variation 5 is again a change of pace and the difference from the previous one is very marked. Here, trills and some very pretty playing join to make a splendid little creation with plenty of harmonic invention and humour. We return to scales for the following variation, with some added arpeggios for good measure. I particularly like the way the ends of phrases are rounded off here – this is a most astute and intelligent performance. I especially enjoyed the mock funeral march that is variation 7; this is just weird in comparison to the other, more conventional variations here - the playing is almost hysterical with grief and matches the mood of this variation perfectly. As the work progresses into variation 8, it becomes more and more difficult to follow the progress of the variations but we have a restatement of the spectral opening that gradually evolves to the complex fugue that is variation 9. This is the core of the work and is perhaps the composer’s reaction to Beethoven’s Eroica variations (Op.35). Here, there are plenty of notes for both performers to negotiate and they do so with the same high level of virtuosity and commitment that they display throughout this disc. This is such a witty take on the theme and to my ears the way that the textures are handled hints at the Scharwenka transcription from earlier in the disc and thus fits in very well here. This variation leads directly into variation 10, the conclusion of the work and featuring the tune neatly divided between the two performers who give a sparkling performance. Right at the very end, the theme emerges almost unadorned as if to remind us how far the music has travelled during the progress of this marvellous work.
As I said for volume 1, this is a magnificent recording; the sound quality is superb, the cover notes are excellent and the playing is exemplary throughout. Full marks to all concerned; I am once again waiting impatiently for the next volume.
--MusicWeb International (Jonathan Welsh)
Prokofiev, Tchaikovsky: Romeo & Juliet / Gatti, RPO
RCA
CD
$17.99
May 30, 2012
Registering a wide emotional range, Gatti makes very familiar material seem fresh and compelling without being willfully "different."
This pair of Romeo and Juliets from Daniele Gatti and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra is the conductor's fourth CD for BMG Conifer. Others include a Bartók disc, Respighi 's "Roman Trilogy," and a very effective Mahler Symphony No .5. With the Prokofiev, the trend in recent years has been for conductors to fashion their own series of selections from the compete work and to eschew the three suites the composer produced that may be musically satisfying but that ignore entirely the narrative flow of the ballet. A spectacularly successful example is a 1996 RCA disc from Michael Tilson Thomas and the San Francisco Symphony which, at 78 minutes, presents a bit more than half of the ballet—perhaps all you really need outside the context of a staged performance. Gatti takes a middle ground. He plays most of the movements from the "official" Suites Nos. 1 and 2 (op. 64b and op. 64c) but reorders them to make more dramatic sense. Gatti states in the notes, "I have chosen to present the individual pieces as a series of colorful contrasts, as Prokofiev did, whilst retaining a semblance of the original story line."
The conductor succeeds considerably. Gatti registers a wide emotional range, rendering aptly both the most tender music and the crudest moments. He captures both the Neoclassical spirit of the work, as in his graceful, spontaneous-sounding "Juliet, the young girl," and the overtly Romantic gestures. The "Balcony Scene" has moments of exquisite delicacy, rising to a fervent tenderness; the closing "Romeo at Juliet's Tomb" is powerful, with an acutely agonized sense of grief. Those who love this music will have (at least) one of the several versions of the complete score—Maazel's, on a bargain-priced London "Double Decker" set, fills the bill nicely—and I find Tilson Thomas's balletic, well-played program indispensable. There's also still a place for the traditional, composer-approved suites: Muti's early 1980s readings of the first two, for instance.
In Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet, Gatti makes very familiar material seem fresh and compelling without being willfully "different." The opening minutes are permeated with a sense of longing, and when the Big Theme comes, while Gatti doesn't wallow, his performance is certainly quite stirring. From Intersound's budget-priced "Royal Philharmonic Orchestra" series, we know this venerable ensemble plays well for any good conductor; they play exceptionally well for their young Music Director. The recording is billed as having "EDR"—"Extended Dynamic Range"—and, indeed, you'd better adjust the volume level with care. The opening chord of "Montagues and Capulets" starts at a modest level, but Crescendos to a cataclysmic roar that had me diving for the gain control the first time out. The sound, generally, is nonfatiguing, with imaging and depth that are very good, if not quite state-of-the-art. The conductor's respiratory exertions are episodically audible.
There are close to 100 listings for the Tchaikovsky in Schwann Opus and dozens of Prokofiev's R & J, in various forms. Do you really want another version of these perennial favorites? You may want Gatti's.
-- Andrew Quint, FANFARE [7/1999]
This pair of Romeo and Juliets from Daniele Gatti and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra is the conductor's fourth CD for BMG Conifer. Others include a Bartók disc, Respighi 's "Roman Trilogy," and a very effective Mahler Symphony No .5. With the Prokofiev, the trend in recent years has been for conductors to fashion their own series of selections from the compete work and to eschew the three suites the composer produced that may be musically satisfying but that ignore entirely the narrative flow of the ballet. A spectacularly successful example is a 1996 RCA disc from Michael Tilson Thomas and the San Francisco Symphony which, at 78 minutes, presents a bit more than half of the ballet—perhaps all you really need outside the context of a staged performance. Gatti takes a middle ground. He plays most of the movements from the "official" Suites Nos. 1 and 2 (op. 64b and op. 64c) but reorders them to make more dramatic sense. Gatti states in the notes, "I have chosen to present the individual pieces as a series of colorful contrasts, as Prokofiev did, whilst retaining a semblance of the original story line."
The conductor succeeds considerably. Gatti registers a wide emotional range, rendering aptly both the most tender music and the crudest moments. He captures both the Neoclassical spirit of the work, as in his graceful, spontaneous-sounding "Juliet, the young girl," and the overtly Romantic gestures. The "Balcony Scene" has moments of exquisite delicacy, rising to a fervent tenderness; the closing "Romeo at Juliet's Tomb" is powerful, with an acutely agonized sense of grief. Those who love this music will have (at least) one of the several versions of the complete score—Maazel's, on a bargain-priced London "Double Decker" set, fills the bill nicely—and I find Tilson Thomas's balletic, well-played program indispensable. There's also still a place for the traditional, composer-approved suites: Muti's early 1980s readings of the first two, for instance.
In Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet, Gatti makes very familiar material seem fresh and compelling without being willfully "different." The opening minutes are permeated with a sense of longing, and when the Big Theme comes, while Gatti doesn't wallow, his performance is certainly quite stirring. From Intersound's budget-priced "Royal Philharmonic Orchestra" series, we know this venerable ensemble plays well for any good conductor; they play exceptionally well for their young Music Director. The recording is billed as having "EDR"—"Extended Dynamic Range"—and, indeed, you'd better adjust the volume level with care. The opening chord of "Montagues and Capulets" starts at a modest level, but Crescendos to a cataclysmic roar that had me diving for the gain control the first time out. The sound, generally, is nonfatiguing, with imaging and depth that are very good, if not quite state-of-the-art. The conductor's respiratory exertions are episodically audible.
There are close to 100 listings for the Tchaikovsky in Schwann Opus and dozens of Prokofiev's R & J, in various forms. Do you really want another version of these perennial favorites? You may want Gatti's.
-- Andrew Quint, FANFARE [7/1999]
EARLY YEARS: COMPLETE MOTOWN RELEASES 1960-62
ACROBAT
CD
$21.04
Dec 13, 2019
Mary Wells occupies a unique niche in pop music in that she was the first female artist on any of Motown's labels to have a hit record, and she remained as the vanguard in that regard until leaving the label in 1964, her hits during those years helping to define the Motown sound and style. Starting out as a budding songwriter and singer in Detroit, when she was 17 years old, she approached label founder Berry Gordy Jr. With a song she had written for Jackie Wilson - hearing her voice, he signed her on the spot. In 1960 he made the R&B Top 10 and pop Top 50 with her first release, her own song "Bye Bye Baby", and over the next two years had four more hits from her five releases, most notably the R&B No. 1s, which also made the pop Top 10, "You Beat Me To The Punch" and "Two Lovers", both written and produced by Smokey Robinson. This collection comprises the A and B sides of all he singles from these formative years, plus all the tracks from her two albums during this era, "Bye Bye Baby - I Don't Want To Take A Chance" and "The One Who Really Loves You", not otherwise released as singles. It naturally features the hits already mentioned plus the other chart entries from these releases "I Don't Want To Take A Chance" and the R&B No. 2 "The One Who Really Loves You". It's a fascinating insight into the creative world of the early years of Motown, and a great showcase for one of the most distinctive voices of the era
Falling In Love With Paul Desmond
RCA
CD
$17.99
Mar 15, 2013
Falling in Love With Paul Desmond is part of RCA's mid-line Falling in Love With series, which focuses on romantic highlights from classic big-band, swing, and jazz artists. There aren't any risky choices on Desmond's volume, but that's fine, since each of the title's 11 cuts -- including "When Joanna Loved Me," "Body and Soul," "My Funny Valentine," "Embarcadero," and "Then I'll Be Tired of You" -- sustains a mellow, romantic mood. This record may not really be necessary, but for anyone looking for lovely, romantic music from Desmond, it's not a bad choice at all.
-- Stephen Thomas Erlewine, AllMusic.com
Personnel includes: Paul Desmond (alto saxophone); Albert Richman (French horn); Gene Bianco, Gloria Agostini (harp); Jim Hall (guitar); Eugene Wright, Gene Cherico, Milt Hinton (bass); Robert Thomas (drums, percussion); Connie Kay (drums).
Recorded at Webster Hall and RCA Studio A in New York, New York between 1962 and 1964. Includes liner notes by Joshua Sherman.
Digitally remastered by James Nichols (BMG Studios, New York, New York).
This is part of RCA Victor's Falling In Love With series.
Personnel: Paul Desmond (alto saxophone); Jim Hall (guitar); Gene Bianco, Gloria Agostini (harp); Al Richman (French horn); Robert Thomas (snare drum, percussion); Connie Kay (snare drum).
Liner Note Author: Joshua Sherman.
Recording information: RCA Studio A, New York, NY (1962-1964); Webster Hall, New York, NY (1962-1964).
-- Stephen Thomas Erlewine, AllMusic.com
Personnel includes: Paul Desmond (alto saxophone); Albert Richman (French horn); Gene Bianco, Gloria Agostini (harp); Jim Hall (guitar); Eugene Wright, Gene Cherico, Milt Hinton (bass); Robert Thomas (drums, percussion); Connie Kay (drums).
Recorded at Webster Hall and RCA Studio A in New York, New York between 1962 and 1964. Includes liner notes by Joshua Sherman.
Digitally remastered by James Nichols (BMG Studios, New York, New York).
This is part of RCA Victor's Falling In Love With series.
Personnel: Paul Desmond (alto saxophone); Jim Hall (guitar); Gene Bianco, Gloria Agostini (harp); Al Richman (French horn); Robert Thomas (snare drum, percussion); Connie Kay (snare drum).
Liner Note Author: Joshua Sherman.
Recording information: RCA Studio A, New York, NY (1962-1964); Webster Hall, New York, NY (1962-1964).
Marais: Ariane et Bacchus / Niquet, Le Concert Spirituel
Alpha
CD
$29.99
Mar 24, 2023
Hervé Niquet resurrects Ariane et Bacchus (1696), using for the first time the exact performing forces and layout of the Paris Opéra orchestra in 1700 and thus giving us a historically informed version of this tragédie en musique by Marin Marais. The latter became a viol player at the Académie Royale de Musique in 1676, just as his mentor Lully's Atys triumphed there. Lully subsequently initiated him into the skills of operatic composition, and Ariane et Bacchus was premiered nine years after the older man's death. This production, made possible by the support of the Centre de Musique Baroque de Versailles, was performed in concert at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées to great acclaim in 2022, when Diapason wrote that the work was 'deservedly rescued from oblivion' and was 'magnified by a sober and telling interpretation from Hervé Niquet and Le Concert Spirituel, in perfect consonance with a remarkable cast', featuring such luminaries as Judith van Wanroij, Véronique Gens, Mathias Vidal, Hélène Carpentier, Marie Perbost, Matthieu Lécroart, David Witczak, Tomislav Lavoie and Philippe Estèphe.
REVIEW:
The singers are largely splendid. I have praised Judith Van Wanroij, Veronique Gens, Mathias Vidal, and Matthieu Lecroart on previous occasions, in wildly varying repertory (by such composers as Gretry, Felicien David, Gounod, and Saint-Saens). Here they offer exemplary renderings, never allowing concern for the music to interfere with their attention to text or vice-versa. Some of the low-voiced males are a little thin at the bottom end, but that’s not unusual these days in the opera world.
Some of the singers take more than one role (there’s a long prologue, with entirely different roles than the rest of the opera), so you’ll want to follow the libretto, which is given in the booklet in French and good English. If you don’t follow the libretto, you might easily be misled when a singer keeps mentioning the name of a character: s/he is actually often speaking of her/himself. Juno, for one, loves to describe her feelings in the third person. The effect, in her case, strikes me as properly haughty. Fortunately, the various singers have distinctive enough voices and interpretive manners that I gradually learned to tell them apart without recourse to the libretto. Actually, one of the wonderful things about French Baroque opera is that the musical numbers are constantly attractive, with a dance or march or pantomime scene always around the corner. And the phrase structure is often unpredictable, unlike the foursquareness of much music of the late 1700s and early 1800s. So you could, I suppose, listen to Marais’s opera without looking at the libretto at all (or even thinking about the rather episodic plot) and still have a fine time and enjoy many surprises.
Still, the experience is that much richer if you know what Junon or Adraste (to use their French names) is up to at a given moment.
Wow, there’s a whole ‘nother side to Marais that I knew nothing about!
-- American Record Guide
NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL AN ERA: ALBUMS 1980-1984
UNIVERSAL UK
CD
$20.99
Jun 06, 2025
Essential Tracks From Iconic Albums... This 4CD set opens with a trio of tracks from stunning debuts: 'A Ray Of Sunshine' from 'Fantastic', the 1983 debut album from Wham, 'Lemon Firebrigade' from Haircut 100's 'Pelican West', and the sumptuous 'Show Me', the opening track from 'The Lexicon Of Love' from ABC. Huge 1983 albums are up next from Culture Club, with 'Black Money' from 'Colour By Numbers', and 'This City Never Sleeps' the closing track on 'Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)' from Eurythmics. Another epic closer from Alison Moyet with 'Where Hides Sleep' from her solo debut 'Alf' is followed by 'Frankie's First Affair' from another 1984 debut, 'Diamond Life' from Sade. Roxy Music's 1982 'Avalon' included 'The Space Between', whilst Japan with 'Talking Drum' from 'Tin Drum' leads a stellar run of iconic albums from Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, Heaven 17, Ultravox and The Human League with 'The Things That Dreams Are Made Of' from 1981's hit-packed 'Dare'. The first disc closes with Donna Summer from her Quincy Jones produced 1982 eponymous album, Tina Turner with the opening track from her landmark 1984 release 'Private Dancer' and Bruce Springsteen from his 1980 double classic 'The River', while the final track 'Mystery Achievement' was the final track on the Pretenders debut 'Pretenders' released just two weeks into 1980 - and sounding as fresh today as it did over 45 years ago. Wham! Are back opening CD2 with 'Heartbeat' from 1984's 'Make It Big' - an album that housed multiple #1 singles. Soft Cell are featured next with 'Secret Life' from their remarkable debut 'Non- Stop Erotic Cabaret', and a track that would be a #1 10 years later as a cover version, 'Young At Heart', is featured from Bananarama's 1983 debut 'Deep Sea Skiving'. A run of superb synth pop including Nik Kershaw, Howard Jones and Bronski Beat follows, before a couple of r&b influenced tracks from Shalamar, from their hit-filled 'Friends' album and Imagination from 'In The Heat Of The Night'. New-wave pop from Toyah, Kim Wilde and Culture Club come ahead of a couple of great covers: - 'Are You There With Another Girl?' from Mari Wilson, and Carmel's take on 'Tracks of My Tears' from 1984's 'The Drum Is Everything'. Next up a masterful jazz-influenced collaboration between The Style Council & Tracey Thorn, ahead of the title track from Paul Simon's 'Hearts And Bones', and a beautiful ballad 'Turn Out The Light' from Joan Armatrading's 1980 'Me Myself I' - all leading to the closing song, the title track from Paul Young's 1983 #1 'No Parlez'. CD3 opens with a stellar line up of the era's most sophisticated pop. Leading off with the timeless 'The Chauffeur' from Duran Duran's enormous second album 'Rio', before 'Taking Islands In Africa' a stand-out from Japan's 'Gentlemen Take Polaroids'. Tears For Fears made their album debut in 1983 and the title track from 'The Hurting' is featured along with a great pop moment, 'Black Night White Light' from Frankie Goes To Hollywood's 1984 debut 'Welcome To The Pleasuredome'. Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark are up next alongside Laurie Anderson from 'Big Science', The Cure from 'Seventeen Seconds' and Joy Division from 'Closer'. U.S. Alt-pop tracks from R.E.M. and The Psychedelic Furs come ahead of synth led gems from Blancmange, China Crisis and The Associates. 1981's biggest selling album in the UK was 'Kings Of The Wild Frontier' from Adam & The Ants and 'Ants Invasion' taken from it is featured next along with The Teardrop Explodes from 'Kilimanjaro', Echo & The Bunnymen with 'Crystal Days' from 'Ocean Rain', The Jam from 'Sound Affects', and Aztec Camera with 'We Could Send Letters' from their 1983 debut album 'High Land, Hard Rain', whilst the discs' sign-off is from Nick Heyward with the gorgeous 'The Day It Rained Forever' from his fantastic solo debut 'North Of A Miracle'. The final disc kicks off with a run of classic synth led epics: New Order open with 'Age Of Consent' from their second album 'Power, Corruption And Lies', and 'Hard Times', from the 1982 remix album from The Human League using the name The League Unlimited Orchestra. Visage released their second album 'The Anvil' in 1982 and the title track is up next along with three more title tracks: Simple Minds with 'New Gold Dream (81/82/83/84)' from their brilliant 1982 release, Talk Talk with 'The Party's Over' from the same year, and The Fixx with 'Reach The Beach' - from their 1983 second release which gave them a Top 10 U.S. album. In 1984, David Sylvian released his first solo album 'Brilliant Trees', and from it the outstanding and atmospheric 'Nostalgia' shares a jazz-infused sophistication with 'Almost Blue', up next from Elvis Costello & The Attractions. The Cure released their fifth album 'The Top' in 1984, and it's opening track 'Shake Dog Shake' features ahead of 'Angels On The Balcony' from Blondie, featuring their signature sound and taken from 1980's 'Autoamerican' - and from the same year - Dexys Midnight Runners from 'Searching For The Young Soul Rebels'. In 1982 The Clash released 'Combat Rock', and 'Overpowered By Funk' is included. Next up are The Police with their fusion of post punk and 'reggae rock', from their 1980 #1 album 'Zenyatta Mondatta' with 'When The World Is Running Down, You Make The Best Of What's Still Around', followed by Grace Jones' breathtaking version of 'Nightclubbing'. The opening track 'Tyler' from UB40's acclaimed 1980 debut 'Signing Off' comes ahead of the closing tracks, both of which featured on albums released on the influential 2-Tone label; The Selecter with the title track from 1980's 'Too Much Pressure', and The Specials with their cover of 'Enjoy Yourself (It's Later Than You Think)', the opening track on their 1980 album 'More Specials'. 72 fantastic tracks - A sampler of the iconic albums that represent an incredible period of creativity and originality: NOW That's What I Call An Era : The Albums 1980 1984.
Francaix: The Music for Solo Piano, Duo & Duet
Nimbus
CD
$32.99
Apr 01, 2012
FRANÇAIX Scherzo. 5 Portraits de jeunes filles. Eloge de la danse. Piano Sonata. 5 Encores. Danse des 3 Arlequins. 8 Variations. Nocturne. 3 Equisses sur les touches blanches. La Promenade d’un Musicologue Eclectique. De la Musique avant tout chose. Pour Jacqueline. Si Versailles m’etait conté. Scuola di Ballo. 1 8 Danses exotiques. 1 15 Portraits d’enfants d’Auguste Renoir. 2 Napoléon 2 • Martin Jones, 1 Richard McMahon, 2 Adrian Farmer (pn) • NIMBUS NI 5880/2 (3 CDs: 19:05)
Had Jean Françaix been born a decade or so earlier, we would be referring to Les Sept rather than Les Six. As it was, the French-polished and long-lived composer (1912–97) followed in the footsteps of his slightly older confrères, particularly Poulenc, in typifying the French style of his era: witty, light-hearted, and insouciant. Françaix’s music derives from the bouncy rhythms and diatonic melodies of French folk music, but mixes in the vulgarity of the boulevard, the harmonic asperity of Stravinsky, and an occasional hint of 1920s jazz, all done with assured craftsmanship. While many of his concertos have been recorded—the best-known are the sprightly Piano Concertino (1932) and the Clarinet Concerto—Françaix’s output for solo piano has not. The only previous recordings I discovered are by Annette Middlebeek on a hard-to-find Koch disc from 2001, and another from 2008 by Nicole Narboni on the obscure label CDBY, which I have never heard of. (The latter recital is intriguingly promoted as “Narboni on Food, Felines, Fathers, and Jean Françaix.”) I did not manage to do any comparative listening—my order of the Koch disc failed to materialize by deadline— but in any case this new Nimbus set trumps both in terms of completeness alone.
Although Françaix was an expert orchestrator, probably more skilled than Poulenc, whose Story of Babar the Elephant he arranged for orchestra, the younger composer first made his mark as a pianist. He continued to play throughout his life, not only his own works but also music by other composers, often teaming with the cellist Maurice Gendron. Many of his compositions involve piano, and I notice a three-disc set of chamber music with the composer at the piano is scheduled to be released late in 2012 (this being the year of Françaix’s centenary, of course).
Meanwhile, we have the indefatigable Martin Jones to bring us up to speed on the keyboard works. The set opens with the early, mostly staccato Scherzo, a favorite of the composer that he played often, and it shows him at his most deft in its clarity and harmonic sleight of hand. The Scherzo sets the tone for the rest of the program and is tossed off with perfect élan here by Jones. Françaix preferred miniatures, and many of the larger works are in fact suites made up of several short movements. Some, such as the oddly titled Promenade d’un Musicologue Eclectique , are composed of tributes to other composers such as Chopin, Ravel, and Adam. Françaix always sounds like himself, but Ravel was clearly a major influence along with Chabrier and, to some extent, Satie. We might expect a work titled Piano Sonata to be more serious in tone but that expectation is quickly dashed; the first movement scampers off like a French poodle. (The same thing happens in the composer’s one symphony.) The sonata’s second movement (Elégie) features an Impressionistic bell-like accompaniment. Timing is one of the composer’s finest assets: Nothing outstays its welcome, and just as one might be tiring of high spirits a pensive moment of lyricism comes along, like the lovely “La Tendre” in the Five Portraits of Young Girls suite. The gentle Nocturne’s arpeggiated left hand registers like updated Fauré, and it is this piece, the composer’s final composition for solo piano (1994), that brings the first disc to a close.
In the duo and two-piano works Jones is joined by Richard McMahon or Adrian Farmer. The Eight Exotic Dances of 1957 draw on popular Latin and jazz forms. The final movement is titled Rock’n’roll but it is far more jazz than rock, a musical genre too earthy for the fastidious Françaix, I suspect. Napoléon and Si Versailles m’etait conté are two-piano arrangements of music from films, while Scuola di ballo is a ballet score from 1933, which, 30 years later, the composer reworked for himself and his daughter Claude to play. The resulting score is more elaborate than a mere reduction, as you will hear if you compare it to the orchestral version recorded by Thierry Fischer and the Ulster Orchestra (Hyperion). It draws on music by Boccherini in much the same way as Stravinsky reinterpreted Pergolesi in Pulcinella , and forms a joyous finale to the program.
Devotees of piano music and avowed completists owe a lot to Martin Jones, truly one of the finest of British pianists. For Nimbus he has recorded a good deal of Spanish music (including multiple discs of Mompou), a Czerny series, Szymanowski, and several others. He is a sparkling technician, but beyond that he always manages to sound utterly sympathetic in the music he chooses to record. His partners in this enterprise are equally at home; McMahon, for one, has a formidable reputation in duet work. Nimbus’s recording strikes me as perfect; as usual, there is air around the sound but it is never muddy, always crisp, and suits the piano to a T. While it may be asking too much to listen to the three discs straight through (though I did so without any ill effect, several times), this is undoubtedly a delightful set to dip into and certainly a significant addition to the catalog.
FANFARE: Phillip Scott
Rheinberger: Motets, Masses & Hymns / Patterson, Gloriae dei Cantores
Gloriae Dei Cantores
CD
$18.99
Mar 01, 2011
RHEINBERGER 3 Motets, op. 133. Mass in F for Male Choir and Organ, op. 190. Hymn, op. 140. Mass in g for Female Choir and Organ, op. 187. Mass in E?, “Cantus Missae,” op. 109 • Elizabeth C. Patterson, cond; David Chalmers (org); Gloriæ Dei Cantores • GLORIÆ DEI CANTORES 121 (74:05 Text and Translation)
This is a retread. Recorded in 1994, it was previously reviewed by John Bauman in 2000 in Fanfare 23:6. What I can’t be sure of is whether or not the original has been remastered, for in Bauman’s headnote it carried a label number of 108 and in its current reincarnation Gloriæ Dei Cantores has renumbered it 121. The discrepancy is significant inasmuch as Bauman complained in his review of engineering that damaged the music, noting a distant perspective that lacked full bass. Since I don’t have the earlier release to compare with the one at hand and, indeed, never heard it, I can only comment on the disc before me. Having listened to it, I’ll venture that nothing has been done to correct or compensate for Bauman’s impression of the recorded sound, for the singers do in fact come at the ear as if from some distant aural space. The effect is compounded, in my opinion, by a kind of churchy acoustic, which is strange, given that the recording was not made in a church but in the splendid acoustic venue of Mechanics Hall in Worcester, Massachusetts.
Besides panning the recording, Bauman expressed little love or patience for Rheinberger’s music, dismissing these works in a few pithy, if amusing, words worth quoting: “Perhaps Rheinberger’s writing reflects the late-19th-century calm of the Catholic Mass that favors the lack of big, almost explosive outbursts. It makes one want to throw the whole of his sacred writing out. Even with the organ, the Masses just seem to go on forever. They last just over 20 minutes, which is really a very short time compared to the Masses of Haydn, Mozart, and Schubert. All of these three Masses are thus afflicted, as well as the short motets and hymns. In short this is well-crafted music that ultimately brings about a big ho-hum. The performances seem to be good but one—at least this listener—just doesn’t care.”
I tend to be more charitable toward Rheinberger, allowing for the fact that even in his own lifetime (1839–1901) he was probably more sought-after as a prominent professor of organ and composition than he was recognized as a great composer. His roll call of students at the conservatory in Munich was long and impressive; it included Humperdinck, Wolf-Ferrari, Horatio Parker, George Chadwick, Henry Holden Huss, and Wilhelm Furtwängler, among others. And though his methods were stern and pedantic, apparently he was beloved by all who came under his wing.
From an entry in the February 1902 issue of Etude Magazine , we get some insight into Rheinberger’s MO from a J. W. Nicholl who had studied organ under him. “At a technical blunder the professor would frown, and if later in the lesson the same mistake occurred he would expostulate. Once, from nervousness or perhaps lack of sufficient preparation, a student made the same mistake three times during the playing of a Rheinberger sonata, the result was that the lesson came to a violent stop, and the unfortunate student left the Conservatorium in a very unenviable state of mind.” Lest you think this shows an impatient and ill-tempered tutor, I think it shows quite the opposite. I’ve known teachers who wouldn’t suffer a student the same mistake twice, let alone three times.
As the opus numbers in the headnote indicate, Rheinberger was nothing if not prolific, churning out a large volume of organ music, as well as numerous Masses, motets, and other sacred vocal works. But he also produced many secular songs and ballads, some chamber music, at least two symphonies I know of, and two or three operas. I can’t say I’ve ever heard an opera by Rheinberger, but I do have a recording of his Symphony No. 2 in F Major with Alun Francis leading the Northwest German Philharmonic on the Carus label, and a two-disc set on MDG of his complete piano trios with the Parnassus Trio, and I find them quite to my liking.
Rheinberger’s style tends to confound expectations for a German-Romantic composer who was almost exactly contemporaneous with Brahms and who couldn’t have escaped the lingering malodor that hung over Munich following the real-life opera starring Wagner, Cosima, von Bülow, Liszt, and King Ludwig.
The works on this disc have very little in common with Brahms’s sacred motets. Rheinberger’s music is not nearly as contrapuntal—the voices move mainly together in harmonic, chorale-style blocks—and it’s regular in its progressions, consonant, and sweet. One writer has suggested that rather than regarding Rheinberger as a lesser Brahms, we should think of him as a “South German Fauré.” That analogy may apply to Rheinberger’s chamber music—there’s definitely a bit of a French accent in his piano trios—but I don’t think it holds up in these Masses. When I think of Fauré and sacred vocal music, I think of his Requiem, and these pieces are nothing like that. They’re of a much more staid and devotional character. If I had to compare them to anything, I’d say they’re a bit reminiscent of some of the sacred vocal works by Bruckner.
Bottom line: I’m not bothered, as Bauman was, by the distant perspective and churchy acoustic. In fact, for me, it tends to enhance the ethereal quality of the music. I can see how one might become bored by more than an hour’s worth of this stuff, which pretty much all sounds alike, but I find it calming, comforting, consoling, and peaceful, much in the way I find a good deal of 16th-century Renaissance vocal polyphony to be. So, on that note, I’m going to recommend this disc with the stipulation that I’ve described the music to you and told you what you can expect.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
