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Cascade - Beethoven, Prokofiev & Schumann: Piano Music / Williams
SOMM Recordings · Sep 2023CD$20.99 -
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Chamber Music by Erich Wolfgang Korngold / Beatson, Eusebius Quartet
SOMM Recordings · Oct 2021CD$20.99 -
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Brahms: Piano Concertos; Music for Solo Piano / Levit, Thielemann, VPO
SONY CLASSICS · Nov 2024CD$29.49 -
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Cascade - Beethoven, Prokofiev & Schumann: Piano Music / Williams
SOMM Recordings announces Cascade; the exhilarating new recital by pianist Cordelia Williams featuring music by Beethoven, Schumann, and Prokofiev. Cascade explores music’s mercurial ability to change in an instant; to reveal depths beneath the surface; and to illustrate; as Williams says; “that the whole world can change entirely in one twist of perspective; one change of angle; to offer a glimpse of something bigger”.
Early and late Beethoven bookend the program. Unpublished in his lifetime; the C major Bagatelle (WoO 56) flickers and glints; sparkles and surprises with kaleidoscope-like brilliance. His Op.126 Six Bagatelles – among the very last pieces he wrote for solo piano – alternate between the introspective and the garrulous; each turned inside out to reveal new facets and features. A variegated collection of 20 miniatures with hints of Chopin; Scriabin and Shostakovich to be found; Prokofiev’s Visions fugitives; Op.22 are essentially a series of meditations; each individually pursuing a specific idea or mood while collectively exploring the hinterland between surface appearance and what lies beneath; and all expressed with comparable crystalline clarity. Schumann’s Waldszenen (Forest Scenes); his last major cycle for solo piano; is an enchanted landscape lit up by beguiling pastoralism and shadow-cast by darker recesses of the imagination. Two sides of the same coin: Arcadia in excelsis; and red in tooth and claw.
Booklets notes; as with all of Cordelia Williams’ recent SOMM releases; have been written by Michael Quinn. Piano winner of the BBC Young Musician of the Year Competition; Cordelia Williams’ previous SOMM releases include her acclaimed coupling of Bach and Arvo Pärt (SOMMCD 0186); hailed by International Piano as “a magnificently stimulating concept; brilliantly recognised”; well-received recitals of Schubert (SOMMCD 0127) and Schumann (SOMMCD 0150); and Nightlight (SOMMCD 0639); which Fanfare hailed for Williams’ “spectacular playing” and which Gramophone described as “extraordinary”.
American Classics - Adams: Shaker Loops, Etc / Alsop, Gunn, Et Al
Alsop makes a good case for Short Ride and for the Berceuse élégiaque. The latter work is an arrangement for chamber orchestra of a work by Ferrucio Busoni—a fact that is not mentioned anywhere in Naxos’s documentation, shamefully enough. Adams, in his Nonesuch recording, is a little more weird and abrasive than Alsop in Shaker Loops—to good effect. All in all, the availability of the Nonesuch recordings does not make this Naxos release superfluous. Alsop is a fine conductor, the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra plays well for her, and then there’s that Naxos price! If you’ve been curious about Adams’s music, but have not been willing to pay Nonesuch prices to hear it, here are four of Adams’s best works in competitive performances at a fraction of the cost.
Raymond Tuttle, FANFARE
Shostakovich: Symphony No. 15 / Haitink, BRSO
Dupre: Piano & Chamber Works
MENDELSSOHN, BRAHMS & GRIEG: VIOLIN SONATAS
Chamber Music by Erich Wolfgang Korngold / Beatson, Eusebius Quartet
SOMM Recordings throws new, invigorating light on the Chamber Music of Erich Wolfgang Korngold, performed by the Eusebius Quartet and pianist Alasdair Beatson. Hailed by musicologist Nicolas Slonimsky as “the very last breath of the romantic spirit of Vienna”, Korngold’s stellar beginnings in Europe’s concert halls and opera houses were later overshadowed by his success in America where his soaring symphonic signature forged the template for the Hollywood soundtrack. But, as Korngold authority Brendan G Carroll notes in his informative booklet essay, the composer’s “relatively small body of chamber works... is no less impressive and actually offers a succinct distillation of his style and voice, often to considerably profound effect.”
The earliest work here is the string quartet arrangement of the suite drawn from his 1920 incidental music to Shakespeare’s Viel Lärmen um Nichts (Much Ado About Nothing). Its glowing Intermezzo is heard in the world premiere recording of Tom Poster’s sumptuous new arrangement. The following year’s Op.15 Piano Quintet was composed shortly after Korngold’s opera Die tote Stadt (The Dead City), and, Carroll notes, “its flamboyant, heroic melodic style owes much to the residual influence of that epic score”. The Op.26 Second String Quartet from 1933 “is one of the most intensely ‘Viennese’ works Korngold ever wrote.” The jolly, bubbling humor of its opening gives way to a rich, expansive Larghetto before concluding with a spirited hymn to that most Viennese of dance forms, the waltz.
Praised as “excellent” by The Sunday Times, the Eusebius Quartet was formed in 2016 and is making its debut on SOMM Recordings. Alasdair Beatson’s previous SOMM releases include his enthusiastically reviewed recording debut, coupling Schumann, Grieg, Brahms and Berg (SOMMCD 086), and a Mendelssohn recital (SOMMCD 104) hailed by Classic FM for its “highly sensitive playing of rare insight”.
Chopin: Fantasie, Polonaise-fantasie, Etc / Fou Ts'ong
Without underestimating the problems of the other pieces, it can safely be said that the Polonaise-Fantaisie is the most difficult work here to interpret. Fou Ts'ong does many excellent things, especially in the poco pià lento section; and note the dream-like reverie in which the music restarts after the return of the introductory gestures. But he does not achieve quite the flow, the sense of conviction, that mark his other...performances. Just the same, this issue still should have the attention of all Chopin collectors.
-- Gramophone [7/1979, reviewing the Berceuse, Barcarolle, and the Polonaise-Fantaisie]
Faure: Works For Cello & Piano / Francois Salque, Eric Le Sage
FAURÉ Cello Sonatas No. 1 & 2. Romance. Elégie. Sérénade. Papillon. Berceuse. Clarinet Trio, op. 120 1 • François Salque (vc); Éric Le Sage (pn); 1 Paul Meyer (cl) • ALPHA 600 (74:02)
Here we have the type of recital that has almost disappeared from the face of the earth: quintessentially French performances of quintessentially French music. As an analogy, I should also point out that quintessentially German, Italian, Austrian, Dutch, and British performances have also faded to a precious few. The standardization of both instrumental style and sound has, by and large, imposed a generically pretty but nationally ambiguous style and sound on orchestras, solo musicians, and chamber groups the world over. Heck, we even have a hard enough time coming up with a quintessentially American sound anymore.
But Éric Le Sage and François Salque are indeed throwbacks to at least the 1940s. Salque’s cello avoids the generically rich, dark sort of timbre one hears from most such players the world over nowadays, but has rather a lean, edgy sonority not unlike Pierre Fournier. This does not mean that Salque’s low range lacks depth of tone, just that it’s not a basso profundo sound; it’s more like a basso cantate, which is fine by me. Likewise, Le Sage’s piano plays with light and shade, color and nuance, in a way that, fortunately, has never entirely disappeared from the lexicon of French pianists on record, from Cortot to Thibaudet.
Thus these performances reach inside the music not just in terms of emotional response but also in terms of coloristic response. They do not lack for energy or excitement when the music calls for it, even in such a piece as the op. 69 Romance, yet despite a CD cover that is almost completely black with white and blood-red lettering, their playing is a virtual rainbow. Some modern listeners, more used to the plush generic quality of many musicians nowadays, may find this approach foreign to them or difficult to comprehend, but as the expression goes, “this is the real deal.” As good as the recording of mostly the same music by cellist Ina-Esther Joost Ben-Sasson is (Naxos 8570545), my decision in favor of this release is predicated by exactly the virtues (or, if you prefer, idiosyncrasies) mentioned in the second paragraph. I should also add that Paul Meyer manages to fit in very well indeed in the performance of the Clarinet Trio. You simply can’t sing Italian comic patter like an Italian, you can’t conduct Má Vlast as well as a Czech-born conductor can, and you can’t play French music any better than the French do it.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Saint-Saëns: Sonatas for Violin & Piano / Zilliacus, Hadland
Saint-Saëns's chamber music broke new ground in France at a time when public taste tended to favour opera and opéra-comique. His first Sonata for violin and piano, one of the earliest composed in France, is a masterpiece of boundless beauty. Its emotional impact and its highly poetic content are served by the composer’s perfect mastery of formal architecture. It has also been proposed as the model for the ‘Vinteuil Sonata’ which runs through Marcel Proust's novel cycle ‘In Search of Lost Time’. The second Sonata, composed in Egypt, is very different from its predecessor: more serious, classical, and intimate. While the writing is more melodic, the composer prophesied that the sonata would not be understood “until the eighth hearing”. These two masterpieces are complemented by the Fantaisie for violin and harp, a virtuoso work in which the use of the harp rather than the piano produced a delicate, refined, even magical sound reminiscent at times of Fauré and Debussy, and by the charming Berceuse, one of Saint-Saëns’ best-known miniatures. Originally for violin and piano, it is performed here in an arrangement for violin and harp that, again, emphasizes the subtleties of Saint-Saëns’ writing.
R. Schumann: Complete Works for Piano / Uhlig
For over 60 years, repeated efforts have been made to capture on recording Robert Schumann’s Complete Works for Piano solo, a fascinatingly broad and varied spectrum ranging from highly virtuosic pieces for the concert hall and valuable literature for teaching purposes. This attractive and yet challenging assignment was not always approached with the necessary intellectual rigor, quite apart from any purely artistic shortcomings, and so none of these sets can justly be deemed “complete”. Schumann had published a string of works in two more or less divergent versions, so that it is highly questionable whether an edition can be labelled “Complete Recordings” if it only contains one of those versions or worse still, makes a misguided attempt to combine two of them. Meanwhile, works that were published at remote locations or remained unpublished have hitherto been taken into account only in exceptional cases.
The first true complete recording of Robert Schumann’s works for piano solo on 17 albums (in 15 volumes), played by Florian Uhlig, seeks for the first time to offer imaginative compilations containing all original works for pianoforte written between 1830 (Abegg Variations op. 1) and 1854 (Ghost Variations) according to the newest critical editions and/or first editions. Several of these albums also contain premiere recordings, often of fragments that were amenable to completion. After the project was completed in 2021, it was evident from a further critical inspection of the five Studien- und Skizzenbücher held in the University and State Library in Bonn, and from the volumes of the complete piano works for two hands that have so far appeared in this comprehensive and groundbreaking edition, that there is a string of either very short complete or longer fragmentary pieces dating from about 1830 to 1837 that are worthy of attention.
French Impressions
Hemsi: Chamber Works / ARC Ensemble
Alberto Hemsi was born in 1898 in Turgutlu (also known as Cassaba), in Anatolia (present-day Turkey). Although there had been a Jewish presence in Anatolia for more than 2000 years, the population expanded considerably following the Alhambra Decree of 1492, with the arrival of Sephardim from Spain and Portugal. It then dwindled precipitously with the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire, the rise of Nazism, the creation of the state of Israel, and the escalation of anti-Semitism in the Arab world. Having completed his training at the conservatory in Milan, Hemsi returned to Anatolia determined to collect and notate as much traditional Sephardic music as he possibly could.
A fascination with national folk music had taken root throughout Europe – Bartók and Kodály in Hungary, Dvorák and Smetana in Bohemia, and Vaughan Williams and Gustav Holst in England being the most familiar examples. Because his research was not defined by political or geographical boundaries, Hemsi was compelled to survey the myriad communities spread throughout the vast Sephardic diaspora. He was as fascinated by this musical heritage as he was concerned about its survival but, like so many composers, he also understood how traditional melodies, together with the various performance styles and conventions that supported them, could provide inspiration and nourishment for his own music.
REVIEWS:
Despite Hemsi’s nomadic existence, the works on this disc reflect the composer’s lifelong fascination for Sephardic folk music which he assiduously collected and transcribed, as well as a keen absorption of other exotic idioms. The net result is a sequence of attractive and atmospheric works that cover similar ground.
-- BBC Music Magazine
Hemsi is probably best known for his set of Coplas Seferdies, Sephardi songs published in numerous volumes, but his chamber music is well worth getting to know. The earliest piece in this disc is the innocuous-sounding Méditation for cello and piano (Tom Wiebe and Kevin Ahfat), written at some point before 1931, and couched in the ‘Armenian style’. Pianistically it evokes the cimbalom or, as the notes remind us, to be specific, the Greek santouri, a hammered dulcimer. The slow intense dialogue between the two instruments seems almost deliberately imitative of, or a shadowy second cousin of, Bruch’s Kol nidrei. In 1942 he wrote the Pilpúl Sonata for violin and piano (Emily Kruspe and Ahfat). It’s cast in a standard three-movement format and encodes plenty of Sephardic material, not least in the fleet and pithy first movement, and also in the call-and-response central one, a kind of cantorial recitative that takes the violin high in a way somewhat reminiscent of Bloch. There’s fine drama in the driving finale.
The following year – or thereabouts, as dating can’t be sure – Hemsi wrote an intriguing Quintet in G for Viola (Steven Dann) and string quartet. It signals a slight compositional shift in Hemsi’s thinking, being somewhat more conventional in structure and effect. His relish for insouciant dance patterns and folkloric inflections, though, is most obvious in the Burlesca second movement but the most paradoxical movement is the slow one, a Berceuse, that exudes flowing lyricism which, whilst hardly expressively deep, opens up a channel of lightly flecked impressionism: Hemsi looking backwards and sideways simultaneously. For the finale there’s a Greek dance, bright and brisk and over quickly and triumphantly.
Tre arie antiche (c.1945) are derived from the Coplas Seferdies and are brief three-minute (or so) studies. The first is fast, the central panel more gauzy and withdrawn, and the final piece extremely catchy. Which leaves the 1956 Danze nuziali greche, Op 37 rewritten from piano originals for cello and piano and dedicated in the piano original to Gina Bachauer. These three nuptial dances cover some expressive ground. The first is a fast and exciting panel honoring the mother-in-law, the second is the bride with her slow and expressively ‘sung’ lyricism, thoughtful, tactile and with Semitic cadences, and the final panel is the godfather – loquacious, big-boned, and excitable. It works beautifully for the cello, for which instrument Hemsi clearly had a real affinity.
There are comprehensive, astute notes and an excellently judged recording.
This is another fine reclamation from the ARC Ensemble, some of whose members I’ve mentioned by name but all of whom play with considerable enthusiasm and technical accomplishment.
-- MusicWeb International
Spanish Classics - Rodrigo: Complete Orchestral Works Vol 4
This is the fourth volume in Naxos’s series of “Complete Orchestral Works” by Rodrigo, but it is the first one to come my way. (I see no record of Volumes 1–3 having been reviewed in Fanfare, either.) My initial impression, though, is that this is yet another worthwhile series from a label that seems determined to leave no work unrecorded.
The glittering Piano Concerto is derived from a 1942 Concierto heroico, also for piano and orchestra. Pianist Joaquín Achúcarro revised the Concierto heroico “to achieve a better balance between the solo instrument and the orchestra, and to avoid some of the original repetitions,” in the words of annotator Enrique Martínez Miura. (Apparently, two “extremely virtuosic” cadenzas have been removed from the Largo too.) The new work was premiered in 1996, three years before Rodrigo’s death. What Rodrigo thought of all this is not indicated here, nor can I comment on the original work, as I have not heard it. I can say that the newer work is an attractive one, colorful to the point of being garish, and dramatic to the point of being hyper-emotional. Rodrigo’s original intention was to reflect on his hometown’s survival of the Spanish Civil War. If most of the Piano Concerto seems more like a marvelous circus than a commentary on war and the human spirit, it is hard to know whether to lay blame at the feet of Rodrigo or Achúcarro. That doesn’t make the work less enjoyable, though.
Música para un jardín (“Music for a Garden”) is Rodrigo’s own orchestration of two piano berceuses from 1935 (one for autumn and one for spring). When he orchestrated it, he added berceuses for the other two seasons, and a brief prelude. The finished work was used in a film documentary about Madrid’s El Retiro Park, but no visual assistance is necessary; this wistful and charming music stands on its own. The life of plants evokes an appropriately innocent response from the composer.
The other three works are less ambitious. Juglares, composed in 1923, was Rodrigo’s first orchestral work. After a brief drum tattoo, there is an attractive Allegro with an appealingly monotonous melody, a passionate slower section, and then a return to the opening section—short and sweet. The gorgeous Preludio para un poema a la Alhambra was written in 1928, while the composer was studying in Paris. The score is headed, “At twilight a guitar sighs, and beyond, almost within the Alhambra, ring out the rhythms that drive the dance.” That Ravel’s influence can be felt in this music is no surprise. Homenaje a la tempranica, from 1939, is another Parisian work, but more typical of the mature Rodrigo. “La tempranica” means “precocious girl,” and it is the name of a popular zarzuela by another composer. This was Rodrigo’s homage to that composer’s work, not to feminine precocity, per se (although the Homenaje was premiered by an all-female orchestra).
None—the conductor, the soloist, the orchestra—is familiar. Nevertheless, I have no complaints about the technical quality or the spirit of the performances. Ferrandiz, in fact, seems like a pianist worth hearing more from. The sound engineers have wrapped this gift with a bright and brilliant ribbon.
Do you like the Concierto de Aranjuez? (Who doesn’t?) Naxos and I ask you, each in our own way, to explore more of Rodrigo’s music. He was most definitely not a “one work” composer!
-- Raymond Tuttle, Fanfare
Tribute to Paul Badura-Skoda
Gottschalk: Piano Music For 2 And 4 Hands / Marks, Barrett
CD 1*
Réponds-moi, Danse Cubaine, Op. 50 (1859) [2:37]
Printemps d'Amour, Mazurka, Caprice de Concert, Op. 40 (1855) [4:31]
Marche de Nuit, Op. 17 (1855) [5:07]
Ses Yeux, Célèbre Polka de Concert, Op. 66 (1865) [4:32]
La Jota Aragonesa, Caprice Espagnol, Op. 14 (?1853) [4:14]
Le Bananier, Chanson nègre, Op. 5 (?1848) [3:03]
Ojos Criollos, Danse Cubaine, Caprice Brillante, Op. 37 (1859) [2:46]
Orfa, Grande Polka, Op. 71 (?1863/64) [2:39]
La Scintilla (L'Énticelle), Mazurka Sentimentale, Op. 20 (1848/53) [3:18]
Marche Funèbre, Op. 61/64 (1853/54) [5:46]
La Gallina, Danse Cubaine, Op. 53 (1859/63) [2:24]
Radieuse, Grande Valse de Concert, Op. 72 (?1863/64) [5:35]
Grande Tarantelle, Op. 67 (?1865) [5:01]
CD 2**
Souvenirs d'Andalousie, Caprice de Concert sur La Caña. Le Fandango et Le Jaleo de Jerez (1851) [4:17]
Le Banjo, Grotesque Fantasie, Caprice Américain (?1854/55) [4:03]
Grand Scherzo (1869) [4:56]
Pasquinade, Caprice (1863) [3:40]
Berceuse, Cradle Song (1861) [4:47]
Tournament Galop (?1850/51) [3:13]
Mazurk [3:47]
'Union' Paraphrase de Concert on the National Airs, The Star Spangled Banner, Yankee Doodle and Hail Columbia (1852/62) [8:41]
The Last Hope, Méditation Réligeuse (1854) [6:01]
Scherzo Romantique (1851) [3:50]
Le Mancenillier, West Indian Serenade (?1849/50) [5:22]
The Dying Poet, Meditation (?1863) [6:43]
I count M. Louis Moreau Gottschalk among my most joyful and refreshing musical discoveries of recent years. It all started with a second-hand CD of the Irish pianist Philip Martin playing, among other things, Le Banjo, Le Bananier and the jaw-dropping Tremolo. That was followed by a Naxos recording of the orchestral music – review – and, most recently, by Martin’s set of the complete piano music ( review). In a spirit of discovery I was only too keen to hear this Nimbus collection, from two pianists who are new to me. It’s been around for a while, but what makes this set rather special is that CD 1 is devoted to four-handed versions of these showpieces; and that promises to be very entertaining indeed.
So it proves. The Chicago-born Alan Marks and British partner Nerine Barrett get off to a terrific start with Réponds-moi, a now sparkling, now seductive little Cuban number. Anyone who knows the two-hander will be astonished by the ebullience and invention on display here. The piano sound is clear and unfettered, making it ideal for such spontaneous writing and playing. The music-box tinkle of Printemps d’Amour is especially attractive, that quicksilver treble a real delight. What a marvellous sense of collective music-making, and how well these players get to the open, easeful heart of these works.
Rhythms are always impeccable, those in the early Marche de Nuit and Le Bananier superbly sprung. I’m delighted at how the oft winsome character of Gottschalk’s creations is so well caught and characterised. Dances – whether central American or central European – trip off the keyboard in a most disarming way. The imperious mien and Mediterranean warmth of that Spanish caprice are brought out in full. Occasionally, in Orfa for instance, I miss Martin’s more thoughtful, introspective playing style, in which rhythms and textures are more subtly done. Really that’s a minor caveat when Marks and Barrett’s musicianship is otherwise so polished and pleasing.
The first CD ends with a triple flourish. After the Cuban smokiness of La Gallina – simply breathtaking in its quick-fire delivery – and that giddy little Radieuse waltz, comes a crowning tarantella. Marks faces formidable competition in disc two which, recorded several years earlier, sounds a little brighter than the first. Make no mistake, the playing here is very assured, and Marks only yields to Martin in pieces such as Le Banjo. Here the Irishman’s control of touch and dynamics is unrivalled. The American is rather less nuanced or revealing. Then again, he just melts one’s heart with the charming Pasquinade – shades of Tremolo, surely – and the cradle song.
It’s an invidious task comparing these two pianists in this repertoire. I wouldn’t want to be without either of them. Just listen to Marks’s runaway rendition of the Tournament Galop and that medley of American patriotic tunes and you’ll hear what I mean. Yes, Martin has the better, fuller recording and a surer, more intuitive way with this music, but Marks certainly captures the generous, larger-than-life nature of these pieces very well indeed. In spite of some lovely touches neither pianist can save the rather maudlin Last Hope and Dying Poet; still they’re hardly dross, and both pianists’ versions are feelingly done.
I see from the rather skimpy liner-notes that Alan Marks died in 1995, which is a pity as I’d have liked to hear more Gottschalk from him. That said, it’s the four-handers that offer the greatest and most consistent musical rewards; the solos are somewhat intermittent in their appeal. Fine, atmospheric recordings though.
Energetic and entertaining; a must for Gottschalk groupies.
-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International
Fauré: Piano Quartet No. 2 & Piano Trio
Moszkowski: Complete Music for Solo Piano, Vol. 2
Although Moritz Moszkowski (1854–1925) wrote a considerable quantity of piano music, only a single piece, ‘Étincelles’, made it into the repertoire, not least because Horowitz enjoyed playing it. The early works on this second instalment in Ian Hobson’s survey of Moszkowski’s complete music for solo piano reveal a debt to Mendelssohn and Schumann, but the effortless craftsmanship to be heard here already justifies a later remark of Paderewski’s: ‘After Chopin, Moszkowski best understands how to write for the piano, and his writing embraces the whole gamut of piano technique’. Most of the pieces in Opp. 15 and 18 are attractive salon miniatures, but the Three Piano Pieces in Dance Form, Op. 17, are extended Lisztian essays that showcase Moszkowski’s mastery of the keyboard and his command of form.
Egon Wellesz: Piano Concerto; Violin Concerto
WELLESZ Piano Concerto , op. 49 1; Violin Concerto , op. 84 2 • 1 Margarete Babinsky (piano); 2 David Frühwirt (vn); Roger Epple, cond; RSO Berlin • CAPRICCIO 5027 (53:15)
Egon Wellesz, born in Vienna in 1885, is among the group of composers of “degenerate art” who survived the Nazi era physically, but not artistically. Like Braunfels, Zeisl, Mittler, or to a lesser degree Hartmann, his music died twice: once when the Nazis declared it “degenerate” and forced him into emigration, then again when the heavily subsidized postwar arts scene thought him not “degenerate” enough—too tonal, too beholden to music rather than organized sound. Even the many, many honors he received in the 50s, 60s, and 70s—in that sense he was luckier than many a colleague with a similar fate—smacked of guilt and placation, not genuine interest in his œuvre.
Wellesz was taught by Guido Adler (also Webern’s professor), became one of the first private students of Schoenberg, and later Schoenberg’s first biographer. In 1974 he died a CBO scholar in Oxford but was buried in his unappreciative home town, Vienna.
On this disc, further exploring “lost” 20th-century repertoire, Capriccio presents a piano concerto that decidedly, finally, doesn’t remind me of Ravel’s! Not that I don’t adore Ravel’s piano concertos to pieces; I do. It’s just that it started to seem like a strange running joke how anything from Zeisl to von Einem ( Fanfare 33:6) to Krenz ( Fanfare 33:2) seemed to remind of Ravel’s G-Major work. Wellesz doesn’t, partly because of his bold writing for piano and a more reticent orchestral part. From the first movement’s unhurried orchestral introduction over an impatient, then calming piano part, to the sudden spunk that picks up at around the two-minute mark, there is little that would immediately, much less invariably, remind one of any other composer. The virtuosic spikes that the pianist traverses, meanwhile, don’t just strike me as jazzy because I am listening to it (and writing this) as I am at a jazz festival in Bolzano, between gigs in this medieval town in South Tyrol. Pianistic ruminations and short orchestra exclamation marks take turns, with much of the material given to the solo piano. The five-minute, unintrusive slow second movement has the ability to just flit by if you don’t pay attention. The orchestra attempts to wax lyrically; the piano interrupts with coy runs. The third movement takes over stealthily with another slow introduction before virtuosity breaks through once again, pulling through to the end with some rambunctiousness and grand gestures. All together the work is not, to my ears, as wholly marvelous a discovery as Eric Zeisl’s (cpo 777226), to mention just an even more obscure work from a composer with a similar-enough biography. But it’s well worth listening to if concertos in general, and that lost period of music in particular, are of interest to you.
The same verdict stands for the Violin Concerto from 1961—even though it is considerably different in style. If you know Wellesz’s symphonies (also on cpo), you will have noticed a distinct break between the essentially late-Romantic symphonies Nos. 1 through 4 and the more explicitly modern Nos. 5 through 8. Wellesz called his Violin Concerto the brother of his Fifth Symphony and that is reflected by a greater—belated, if you will—incorporation of some elements of the serialist school. All movements are based on the same material, albeit a situation that Wellesz claimed to have discovered only after the fact.
The work manages to suggest density while retaining clear lines, and it is—at four movements—considerably more expansive than the Piano Concerto. After its premiere it was favorably compared to Berg (which it obliquely refers to) and Schoenberg. I don’t hear the beauty in it that I hear in the Berg (which, it should be pointed out, benefits from the advantage of far greater exposure, familiarity, and tons of wonderful recordings). It also seems less austere than Schoenberg’s concerto. Listeners who can just be brought to enjoy or accept the harmonic language of the Piano Concerto will find the Violin Concerto less attractive; tougher listening. But with some good will they should be able to access that work, too … especially via the Andante sostenuto, the fourth and last movement which, a terse and frenzied cadenza apart, has repose and considerable lyricism to offer. The violin part in the first movement has a good deal of electric, buzzing moments that are highly enjoyable. For getting to know the composer Wellesz, I’d start with the symphonies, but if they have turned you on already, then his two full-size concertos will be a mandatory expansion pack.
I know it must be frustrating for soloists or ensemble musicians when their work is done away with in one sentence, only because they are not famous enough to have pre-impressed the critic. This kindly dismissal usually takes place with adjectives like “adequate” or “perfectly acceptable.” Unfortunately for lack of comparison, knowledge of the score, and any immediately sensed enthusiasm about the playing (as in the Wetzler recording— Fanfare 33:4—for example), that’s exactly what I’ll have to do. Certainly the soloists Margarete Babinsky, David Frühwirt, or the Berlin RSO under Roger Epple don’t stand in the way of enjoyment.
FANFARE: Jens F. Laurson
Evocation
Brahms: Piano Concertos; Music for Solo Piano / Levit, Thielemann, VPO
This is the first recording of pianist Igor Levit, conductor Christian Thielemann and the Vienna Philharmonic with Brahms' two Piano Concertos. The release is a triple-CD album with Levit's recording of Brahm's late solo piano works opp 116-119. As a special encore Levit and Thielemann also play the four-hand Brahms Waltz op. 39/15 together.
REVIEW:
Levit’s utterly compelling accounts of the late sets are the more impressive element in this collection. He does not put a foot wrong in any of them; each piece is perfectly shaped, its subtly varied emotional charge instantly identified. It’s hard to think of many better recordings of these 20 gems, and certainly not of all four opus numbers together.
— The Guardian
Mahler: Kindertotenlieder & Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen
