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Muller: Uncommon Concertos / Zehnder, Royal Czech Symphonia Hradec Kralove
Ars Produktion · Feb 2024CD$22.99 -
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Sammartini: Sonatas for recorder & continuo Vol.2 / Böhlen, Hell, Rosin, Prosser
Aeolus · Jan 2022SACD$21.99 -
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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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Saint-saens: Violin Sonata No 1; Berceuse; Triptyque / Clamagirand, Cohen
Naxos · Apr 2013CD$19.99 -
Schumann: Symphonies No 2 & 4 / Zacharias, Orchestre De Chambre De Lausanne
MDG · May 2012SACD$24.99 -
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Scarlatti: Sonaten pour le clavecin Vol 1 / Andreas Staier
Deutsche Harmonia Mundi · Jun 2008CD$17.99
Galuppi: Sei Sonate A Tre A Due Violini E Basso Continuo
GALUPPI 6 Trio Sonatas • Accademia dei Solinghi • DYNAMIC 694 (54:05)
Venetian composer Baldassare Galuppi wrote his six trio sonatas, according to Danilo Prefumo’s notes, in 1760, and with their homophonic textures, relatively simple melodic patterns diced into relatively short, often repeated phrases, and their division into three movements each (fast-slow-fast), they look forward to the Classical era rather than back toward the Baroque, despite their being composed in the venerable genre of the trio sonata (it’s a case of new wine in old bottles rather than old wine in new bottles). William S. Newman treated Galuppi’s works (primarily his keyboard sonatas) in his book on the Classical era rather than in his volume on the Baroque: He deemed Galuppi a preeminent pre-Classical composer. The sonatas surely aren’t without affecting sentiment, as the First Sonata’s slow movement or especially the sighs from the Second Sonata’s corresponding movement show (in addition, in the Second Sonata, to the dialog pitting the two violins against the harpsichord). The first movement of the Second Sonata bustles with a kind of energy that even Antonio Vivaldi’s sharply chiseled concerto subjects don’t always evince. It may not be surprising to find all these concertos written in the major mode (in this case, A, F, D, G, B?, and E) in light of Newman’s estimate that Galuppi wrote more than 80 percent of his sonatas in major.
In general, the sonatas’ first movements crackle (many listeners, cueing a random track, might relatively easily identify it as a first movement or a finale); the second movements, as noted above, include sensitive turns of phrase and harmonic subtleties (some even recalling Mozart, though Newman dismisses the suggestion of a direct influence on the later composer); the finales, though often marked Allegro , frequently glide elegantly rather than drive forward (with occasional exceptions, like the finale of the Fifth Sonata, the jaunty figuration of which spans both manners). Prefumo notes the title given the Sixth Sonata’s slow movement, Dialogo tra Pasquino e Marforio , perhaps referring to two Roman “talking statues.” In any case, this brief movement, subtitled Recitativo instrumentato , features passages that Galuppi, as a noted opera composer, may have delighted to transfer to this instrumental genre; the sonata’s finale also bears a title, in this case, Ritornello , though the device hardly suggests the one by the same name that characterized Vivaldi’s concertos. The Accademia dei Solinghi (Claudio Adriani playing an Andrea Guarneri violin from 1675, Franco Simeoni playing a violin made in 2007 by Franco Simeoni, Alessandro Peiretti playing an anonymous late 18th-century cello, and Rita Peiretti playing a harpsichord made by Davide Peiretti in 1986) endows these sonatas with a brusque energy that brings to vivid life Charles Burney’s remarks, after he’d encountered Galuppi’s music in Italy, about the composer’s youthful imagination. Dynamic has provided a close up portrait of the ensemble, yet surrounds the instruments with enough reverberation to fuse their crunchy textures into a pleasingly mellifluous amalgam. On the basis of the sonatas’ lively and ingratiating melodic imagination and of the energetic and sympathetic performances by the Accademia, Dynamic’s release should appeal more widely than to specialists.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
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For some centuries Venice was one of the main centres of music-making in Italy. In the early 18th century Vivaldi was the key figure in the music scene, composing numerous operas, sacred works and instrumental pieces. After his death in 1741 his place was taken by Baldassare Galuppi, who soon became the most fashionable Italian master. His popularity was such that pieces by other composers were sold as written by Galuppi. One example is a setting of the Dixit Dominus which was purchased by the court in Dresden as a composition by Galuppi. Only fairly recently the true identity of the composer was discovered: Antonio Vivaldi.
Galuppi was born in Burano which explains his nickname 'Buranello'. His father was a violinist, who worked as a barber for a living. Galuppi's main teacher was Antonio Lotti. The English journalist Charles Burney visited Galuppi in 1770 and wrote: "Signor Galuppi was a scholar of the famous Lotti, and very early taken notice as a good harpsichord player, and a genius in composition. (...) He certainly merits all that can be done for him, being one of the few remaining original geniuses of the best school perhaps that Italy ever saw. His compositions are always ingenious and natural, and I may add, that he is a good contrapuntist, and a friend to poetry."
Galuppi has mainly become famous as a composer of operas, both serious and comic. His output in this genre is huge. In addition his work-list includes a large number of serenatas, oratorios and liturgical music. The largest part of his instrumental music is for keyboard. His oeuvre for instrumental ensemble is relatively limited: eight concertos for harpsichord and strings, seven concerti a quattro and the six trio sonatas which are the subject of this disc. They probably date from around 1760; they were not printed but have been preserved in a manuscript which is kept in the library of the University of Uppsala.
The judgement of Charles Burney that Galuppi was a "good contrapuntist" is affirmed by these sonatas which are written in the galant idiom. They are also an expression of the ideal of naturalness which was propagated by the Italian violin virtuoso and composer Giuseppe Tartini. All the sonatas are in three movements: fast - slow - fast. Although the two violins are basically treated on an equal footing, in several movements the first violin dominates, like the the first and last from the Sonata No. 1 in A and in the largo from the Sonata No. 3 in D. The adagio from the Sonata No. 2 in F is notable for its expression, partly through the use of general pauses. One of the most exuberant and technically brilliant movements is the closing allegro from the Sonata No. 4 in G.
The Sonata No. 6 in E has a remarkable middle movement, which is called Dialogo tra Pasquino e Marforio, in the form of a recitative. This is explained in the liner-notes: "Pasquinio and Marforio are names still used today in Rome for two statutes [=statues] from the Roman age, on which in past centuries the inhabitants of the Eternal City used to place mocking epigraphs and messages (called 'Pasquinate') referring to the establishment or public personalities. The statues were also called 'talking statues'; in Rome there were no fewer than six statues of this type, though Pasquino and Marforio were the most famous. Galuppi's short recitative may then be a playful allusion to some fact or event witnessed at the time of composition, or it might bear cryptic references to his time which, at the moment, we cannot clarify". This can only become clearer if we knew for sure the exact date and place of composition.
These trio sonatas are late specimens of a genre soon to disappear to make way for trios in which all parts were treated strictly equally, like the string trio. The Accademia dei Solinghi delivers good performances which may be a little less polished than we are used to hearing from the best ensembles of today. I have greatly enjoyed this disc, though, and if you decide to purchase it you certainly won't be disappointed. Music and performance make this recording well worth investigating.
-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International
SYMPHONY NO. 8 C MAJOR D 944
Nickel: Sonatas & Chamber Music for Oboes / Vanderkolk
The soulful sounds of the oboe and oboe d’amore infuse the expressive, lyrical new album of solo and chamber works by award-winning Canadian composer Christopher Tyler Nickel. The star of the show is Seattle Symphony principal Mary Lynch VanderKolk, whose artistry plays a vital role in Chris’ compositional process. He explains, “I find ways to incorporate her strengths and personality into expressing the music’s emotions.” The Oboe Sonata, dedicated to Mary, is by turns haunting and pastoral, navigating the full three-octave range of the instrument. The Sonata for Oboe d’amore demonstrates the large timbral and emotional range of the oboe’s lower-pitched cousin, from darkness to light.
Undaunted by the historic canon of iconic solo instrumental works already in existence, Chris – an oboist himself – created a tour de force with his Suite for Unaccompanied Oboe, a work Mary describes as “more cinematic” than his other concert works, not surprising perhaps given his countless award-winning TV, film, and theatrical scores. The album concludes with what is surely the only Oboe d’amore Quintet ever composed. The instrument’s plaintive tone takes center stage against the backdrop of string quartet, as the work moves from serenity, melancholy, and nostalgia, before ending with an invigorating finale that brings the inspiring album to a close.
REVIEWS:
Featuring the talents of oboist Mary Lynch VanderKolk, the new album Christopher Tyler Nickel: Sonatas and Chamber Music for Oboe and Oboe d’amore masterfully explores the full range and lyrical aspects of the oboe while spiritedly challenging its technical capabilities. Opening with the Oboe Sonata specifically composed for VanderKolk, Nickel’s own familiarity with the oboe is clearly demonstrated as he insightfully captures the strengths of the player – creating beautifully sweeping lines that showcase VanderKolk’s colourful and lyrical capabilities as she artfully navigates the dynamic and rhythmic passages in a way that only the most consummate performer could. Imagining the pensive sadness of the lone instrument at twilight is what one may experience as they listen to Nickel’s second piece of this collection, the Oboe d’amore Sonata.
The album concludes with the Quintet for Oboe d’amore for the namesake instrument and string quartet in a uniquely distinctive composition drawing the listener in with the dark, melancholic timbre of the double-reed instrument traditionally only heard in Baroque music, making this piece the first of its kind and a true testament to this Canadian composer’s proclivity for the oboe family and ability to fashion narrowly defined aspects of both music and the instrument into a broader phenomenon.
-- The Whole Note
Scharwenka: Violin Sonatas
The 18th Century Symphony - Kraus: Symphonies Vol 3
Though the C-sharp minor and E minor works that open and close this program fully reflect the tastes and semantics of their era, the Symphony in C minor, subtitled "Symphonie funèbre", is an astonishing discovery. Written in April, 1792, following the assassination of Gustav III (the event inspired operas by Verdi and Auber and its political repercussions were felt throughout Europe), this is one of the most extraordinary musical valedictions to pre-date Beethoven's Eroica. All four movements are somber and slow-moving, and the use of timpani, solemn brass, and muted strings seem uncomfortably alien to a work of the period. This is an exceptionally fine account; Sundkvist's orchestra plays magnificently under his watchful direction, and the solo cello and horn in the chorale section of the finale sound suitably eloquent.
This disc also includes Kraus’ Overture in D minor (according to Haydn's friend Fredrik Silverstolpe, Swedish ambassador to Vienna, it was performed by mixed wind band at Good Friday services in Stockholm for many years) in its original instrumentation, the outcome of detailed reconstruction of Kraus' original manuscripts. Another surprise is the C # minor 'Sinfonia da camera'; the second section of its minuet is simply the first part played backwards (a trick Haydn himself tried on occasion)! As with previous releases, the Swedish Chamber Orchestra and Sundkvist, offer spirited and polished orchestral playing and a bright-well-balanced recording. Highly recommended.
--Michael Jameson, ClassicsToday.com
Weinberg: Symphony No 12 "In Memoriam D. Shostakovich" / Lande
WEINBERG Symphony No. 12. The Golden Key: Ballet Suite No. 4 • Vladimir Lande, cond; St. Petersburg St SO • NAXOS 8.573085 (75: 40)
I have been at least mildly enthusiastic about Lande’s previous Weinberg discs for Naxos (Symphony No. 6 on 8.572779 and Symphony No. 19 on 8.572752) and this one is as good, if not better. This is not the first recording of Weinberg’s Symphony No. 12—Maxim Shostakovich had that privilege—but it appears to be the only one available on CD, and the coupling, which is very different in tone, and a nice complement to the symphony, is as enjoyable as it is generous.
Weinberg’s Symphony No. 12 “In Memoriam D. Shostakovich” was composed in 1976, a year after Shostakovich’s death. Many of Weinberg’s works are stylistically similar to Shostakovich’s. This is not surprising, as Shostakovich was a friend and mentor to Weinberg, almost from the time that the latter arrived in the Soviet Union after fleeing his native Poland. This symphony is particularly Shostakovich-like. Although it is “in memoriam,” it is not funereal in tone. In fact, like many of Shostakovich’s works, it displays an emotional ambiguity that encourages a number of interpretations from performers and from listeners alike. Shostakovich’s “Leningrad” Symphony appears to have been an especially strong source of inspiration, but the work’s structure—for example, the epic first movement—is more reminiscent of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10. The D-S-C-H (D-E?-C-B) monogram even makes several subtle appearances. The symphony’s themes are distinctive, and Weinberg is a surefooted musical architect. Another similarity with Shostakovich is his ear for unusual scoring, and his always interesting and sometimes grotesque use of wind instruments at the extremes of their register. No one hearing this symphony for the first time will miss its connections with Shostakovich. Weinberg is not an imitator, however, any more than Telemann imitated Bach.
The Golden Key is a ballet from 1955 based on a story by Aleksey Tolstoy. The lead character, Burattino, is a puppet, and the eponymous golden key allows its bearer to enter the country of Happiness. In addition to puppets, there are various animal characters as well. On one level, this is an innocent ballet—even a children’s ballet—but its themes of rebellion and idealism also suggest a deeper and even socio-political interpretation. Shostakovich’s ballet scores have their moments of excellence as well as moments of more workmanlike writing. The Golden Key , from what I have heard of it, is at least on their level. The first three suites were recorded by Mark Ermler with the Bolshoi Theater Orchestra—Olympia OCD 473, if you can find it. That disc also included excerpts from the Fourth Suite. In other words, all four suites have been recorded. Taken together, they add up to about 85 minutes of music, so I am wondering if all of the ballet’s music was used in one of the four suites.
As on the previous CDs, Lande and the St. Petersburg Symphony Orchestra are very satisfactory. Certainly one can imagine more assertive conducting and a richer sounding orchestra, but I don’t think anyone will be unhappy with these performances. In fact, I would say that this is an improvement from the earlier recordings, particularly that of the Symphony No. 6, but that’s one Weinberg symphony in which there was more competition. If you’re interested in Shostakovich, or in music from the Soviet Union in general, there is absolutely no reason not to give this fine new CD a try.
FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle
Cervetto: 6 Sonatas for 3 Violoncellos / Zeller, Frezzato
Six Sonatas or Trios for three Violoncellos or two Violins and a Bass, is the title of op. 1, published in London by Giacobo Basevi Cervetto between 1741 and 1745 circa. To the modern ear, it is curious to hear the terms sonata and trio referred to as synonyms: in fact, the genre – which in effect did experience a certain confusion regarding the terminology – is known today as the sonata a tre. As Cervetto was a cello concert musician, it is not surprising that his sonatas were composed for three violoncellos (two cellos and bass); the alternative of playing them with two violins was probably dictated by commercial reasons in order to interest a vaster public. We maintain that it is important to rediscover these sonatas who are little known to the public of today. These wonderful and unusual Sonatas are played on original instruments by Martin Zeller & Marco Frezzato.
Rameau chez la Pompadour / Camboulas, Ensemble Les Suprises
The famous Marquise de Pompadour, favorite of King Louis XV for nearly twenty years, reigned over the arts at court. Rameau, whom she particularly admired, was omnipresent. He received a specific commission for the Théâtre des Petits Appartements, where the Marquise herself sang in the midst of a troupe of amateurs and professionals: the result was Les Surprises de l’Amour, from which the ensemble Les Surprises takes its name. Under the expert direction of Louis-Noël Bestion de Camboulas, the group presents here the very first recording of this ballet in its original 1748 version, including the prologue entitled Le Retour d’Astrée, and couples it with another commission for one of the court’s annual residences at Fontainebleau: Les Sybarites (1753), an acte de ballet whose principal couple is reminiscent of the King himself and his favorite. A first-rate vocal line-up brings these two works back to life: Marie Perbost, Eugénie Lefebvre, Jehanne Amzal, Clément Debieuvre, David Witczak, Philippe Estèphe.
Boccherini: Complete Violin Sonatas, Vol. 1
The start of a major new series on Brilliant Classics – historically informed accounts of the violin sonatas by a Classical-era master of Rococo charm and invention.
Luigi Boccherini, still in his mid-20s, dedicated his Op. 5 violin sonatas to the Parisian keyboard soloist Mme. Brillon de Jouy. As a result, the keyboard is more than an equal partner with the most showy writing, in the style of the sonatas ‘for piano and violin’ by both Mozart and Beethoven. Boccherini himself thought well enough of these works to draw from them many times throughout his career. Movements from these sonatas appear in reworked guises in other chamber works and symphonies.
The other sonatas here came into being later in Boccherini’s career as arrangements of other works by Boccherini made by publishers eager to capitalise on the fame and industry of a composer renowned throughout Europe for his attractive melodic fluency Several of them are transcriptions of his cello sonatas, though whether the arrangements were made by the composer himself remains a mystery. Other sonatas were skilfully put together from his many string quintets; they made Boccherini’s music accessible to those who could not perform the ensemble works in their original versions. Brilliant Classics has produced the largest ever collection of Boccherini’s works on record with its 37CD edition, which won stunning reviews in the international press. This new set of violin sonatas becomes a vital addition to the Boccherini library of collectors. Each new album by the period-instrument violinist Igor Ruhadze has likewise attracted critical praise, not least in his regular partnership with the Russian-born pianist and harpsichordist Alexandra Nepomnyashchaya. Their recording of F.Geminiani Violin Sonatas op.1 received warm critical praise.
REVIEWS:
The Six Sonatas Op. 5 for harpsichord with violin accompaniment, published in Paris in 1768, constitute the only authentic examples intended by Boccherini for this instrumental combination. The keyboard style, highly idiomatic with its scales, triplets and broken octaves, the pre-Romantic atmosphere of the slow movements as well as the quality of the melodic and rhythmic elements, excited Europe. If Boccherini did not entrust anything else to this instrumental combination, then editors remedied this by generating several transcriptions. It is this unprecedented wealth that Brilliant intends to explore here – other volumes are expected.
The pianoforte of Alexandra Nepomnyaschchaya does not dethrone, in Opus 5, that of Franco Angeleri (Tactus, 1990) who followed the autograph manuscript of Parma in the company of Enrico Gatti. The chiseled refinement like the incisive dynamic of the touch, the expressive restraint of the violin expressed in the two Italians an unequaled feeling and sharing. Among the newcomers, the seduction is more demonstrative, the contrasts more accentuated, the sensuality and the feeling more showy, as in the Allegro maestoso of No. 6 or the Allegro molto of No. 5. Above all, the Andante of No. 4, just whispered by Angeleri and Gatti, gains an indescribable beauty.
The movements of trios, quartets and quintets reduced by Mlle. Le Jeune (Vénier, Paris, 1782) are a happy surprise. The distribution of voices is skillful. The infinite delicacy of the Andante sostenuto of Sonata G 51 is truly worthy of Boccherini. Certainly, the Amoroso of the G 52 and the Allegro con spirito of the G 53 have charm. No repeat being forgotten, some movements seem a little long. Sometimes a simple foil to the pianoforte, Igor Ruhadze takes his revenge in the Six Sonatas for violin and basso continuo (La Chevardière, Paris, 1775). The Sonatas for cello and basso continuo G 20 are the most emblematic of Boccherini. It is magnificent in places (Largo de la no 5) but above all exotic (no 6, after the famous G 4). The violin, with sober and clear diction, is supported by a balanced bass entrusted to the cello continuo and the harpsichord. Looking forward to the sequel!
-- Diapason
Sonatas for violin & harpsichord
Muller: Uncommon Concertos / Zehnder, Royal Czech Symphonia Hradec Kralove
The violin, the violoncello and the piano are blessed with an immense wealth of concertante works from all eras. Originally a cellist, and married to a marvellous cellist, it was only natural that many concertante works for strings were also written over the years.
However, writing for unusual instrumentations and instruments always seems to have had an appeal for me. Concertante works for vibraphone, saxophone and even snare drum ("Clatterclank" - homage to Jean Tinguely) bear witness to this. There are instruments which, despite their great potential in terms of expressiveness and tonal possibilities, have not been able to establish themselves in the classical concert repertoire. It is particularly surprising that, despite the great and worldwide popularity of the pan flute, there are hardly any concertante works for this instrument in a classical context.
The heckelphone, on the other hand, is still little known. With just over a hundred instruments in existence worldwide, it has its place above all in the great opera houses, where it shines with wonderful solos in operas by Richard Strauss, but also in his Alpine Symphony. In the 20th century it was used in the orchestra by Hans Werner Henze. Apart from a unique piece of chamber music by Paul Hindemith, a trio for viola, heckelphone and piano, the literature is quickly exhausted.
Sammartini: Sonatas for recorder & continuo Vol.2 / Böhlen, Hell, Rosin, Prosser
Viktor Kalabis - Composer & Conductor PURGATORY
The centenary of the birth of Viktor Kalabis (1923–2006), a major 20th-century Czech composer, is worthy of attention. The previous Supraphon album, Symphonies & Concertos (SU 4109-2), mapping his mature and late works, met with critical acclaim (Gramophone Choice / Reissue of the Month, Choc de Classica). Much of Kalabis’s early output, however, is yet to be discovered. The present recording, containing three pieces dating from between 1948 and 1951, attests to the young composer’s remarkable maturity. In the Concerto for Chamber Orchestra, Op. 3 (1948), Kalabis paid tribute to Igor Stravinsky, a great idol of his, with the concerto grosso form and instrumentation referring to Dumbarton Oaks. The impressive brief overture Youth, Op. 7 (1950), demonstrates the composer’s brilliant mastery of large symphony orchestra. The surprising dark colours in the work may reflect the difficult period of the Communist dictatorship’s ascent. The neo-folk Concerto for Cello and Orchestra, Op. 8 (1951), reveals Kalabis’s Dvorák, Bartók, Hindemith and late symphonic Martinu inspirations. Youthful dynamic energy and intimations of future weighty profundity characterise Kalabis’s early music. Three decades later, the composer recorded his early pieces, conducting the Janácek Philharmonic Ostrava. The present album thus affords the opportunity to listen to their authentic performance.
Vorisek: Symphony In D, Mass In Bb / Freeman, Jantzi, Et Al
Czech composer Jan Vorišek (1791-1825) was a talented musician just beginning to make a name for himself, particularly as a composer of piano music, when he died prematurely of tuberculosis. The excessively enthusiastic notes to this release take full advantage of speculative historical hindsight and describe his orchestral style as an amalgam of Beethoven's (which he may have known) and Schubert's (which he certainly didn't), asserting in passing that "Beethoven was never a great melodist...(!)" This hardly corresponds to the reality of what you actually hear on the disc, but it represents the only questionable aspect of this otherwise splendid production.
Vorišek's style arises directly from the classical language of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. Of incipient Romanticism or the Schubertian long melodic line there's nary a trace, and the music is none the worse for that. His single symphony might pass for early Beethoven: indeed, the end of the first movement exposition apparently lifts a famous passage directly from the finale of the older composer's Fourth Symphony, but this doesn't diminish Vorišek's modest originality. You can hear this at work, among other places, in the characterful use of timpani at the very beginning and in the wonderfully passionate minor-key opening of the slow movement. For some time now, the reference recording of this piece has been Charles Mackerras' reading on Hyperion with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra. Paul Freeman does him one better, having a superior orchestra, more tactile recorded sound, and slightly broader tempos that, combined with punchier accents (especially in the first movement), give the piece an appropriately grander stature. Let's just say that Freeman evidently views the work as closer to Beethoven while Mackerras places it closer to Haydn and Mozart.
Mackerras couples the Vorišek symphony with another singleton effort, by Arriaga. Cedille gives us more Vorišek, his marvelous Mass in B-flat, which (I believe) receives its CD debut recording here. This piece really is a find. Close in style to the language of Haydn's late masses, it contains numerous original touches, such as the thrilling augmentation of the fugue subject toward the end of the Gloria, an almost violent Crucifixus characterized by syncopated rhythms and jagged interjections from trumpets and drums, a sweetly lyrical second Hosanna following the Benedictus, and a startling ending scored for pianissimo timpani and brass. Its stylistic provenance may be clear, but there's no other mass setting quite like it, and fans of choral music really owe it to themselves to give it a listen.
Once again Freeman turns in an excellent performance (though he should have had a soloist intone the opening lines of the Gloria and Credo, as Vorišek, designing the work for a genuine liturgical setting, leaves these to the officiating priest). His soloists manage their assignments capably, the Prague Chamber Chorus sings with appropriate fervor, and the recording copes with the vast reverberation of the Rudolfinum in Prague very well. At the loudest moments the textures tend to thicken a bit, but this seems primarily a result of Vorišek's tendency to keep all of the parts close to their middle register, creating a certain density of sound (and I suspect making the work easier to perform by early 19th century church choirs). This is, in any case, a major release and a very pleasant surprise. Good work, Cedille.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Beethoven, R. Schumann, Saint-Saëns: Symphonies for Piano Duo vol. 2 / Uys & Schoeman
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)
Saint-saens: Violin Sonata No 1; Berceuse; Triptyque / Clamagirand, Cohen
SAINT-SAËNS Violin Sonata in d. Berceuse, Op. 38. Elégies: No. 1 in D, Op. 143; No. 2 in F, Op. 160. Sarabande et Rigaudon, Op. 93. Romance in D?, Op. 37. L’air de la pendule triptyque, Op. 136 • Fanny Clamagirand (vn); Vanya Cohen (pn) • NAXOS 8.572750 (68:01)
This CD turned out to be more than a pleasant surprise; it turned out to be a sheer delight. I wasn’t sure what to expect from two relatively young and relatively unknown (on record, at least) artists in Saint-Saëns’s frequently essayed Violin Sonata in D Minor, but the performance by Fanny Clamagirand and Vanya Cohen proved positively persuasive and more than competitive with some of the very best, among which I would count my first recording of the piece with Heifetz and Emanuel Bay on a 1950 RCA LP, along with more recent versions by Gil Shaham and Gerhard Oppitz on Deutsche Grammophon, and the very impressive young violinist Jack Liebeck with Katya Apekisheva on Quartz.
Clamagirand (b. 1984), a past graduate student of Jean-Jacques Kantorow at the Paris Conservatory, sports a robust tone that projects with a good deal of authority, yet is of an alluring sweetness. Saint-Saëns’s D-Minor Sonata, the first and by far more popular of two he wrote, can invite some coarseness in tone in a number of its rough-and-tumble passages, but Clamagirand will have none of it. She cuts through the slashing first-movement chords without slashing them, and she springs sprightly through the ricochet-like spiccato bowing in the Allegretto moderato . Vanya Cohen, born in 1980 in Monaco of Russian parents, leaves no doubt in her confident delivery of the piano part that Saint-Saëns’s swirling and whirling score is as much piano sonata as it is violin sonata. This is as brilliant and thoroughly convincing a performance of the piece as I know.
The most enchanting aspect of this album, however, is the short, salon-like pieces that fill out the disc to a generous 68 minutes. All in all, not counting the two sonatas, Saint-Saëns composed no more than six opus numbers originally scored for violin and piano, and on the present disc we have all but one of them, the Caprice brilliant in B Minor of 1859. In its place, Clamagirande and Cohen give us the Romance, op. 37, originally for flute and piano, but published with an alternate version for violin. And for extra measure, they also give us the Sarabande et Rigaudon , op. 93, originally a work for orchestra.
It would be inaccurate to say that these pieces are entirely absent from the catalog, but according to current listings, they’ve received scant attention on disc; and that’s really a shame, for there’s not one of them that’s not a real charmer. This is a most enjoyable program, and it’s one performed to the highest standards by two exceptionally talented artists. Very strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Schumann: Symphonies No 2 & 4 / Zacharias, Orchestre De Chambre De Lausanne
SCHUMANN Symphonies: No. 2; No. 4 • Christian Zacharias, cond; Lausanne CO • MDG MGD 940 1745-6 (SACD: 64:51)
This is the first time I have ever heard these symphonies played gracefully by a chamber orchestra. What makes them so beautiful is that Christian Zacharias does not employ his orchestra’s limitation of size as an excuse for delivering spiky phrasing and rude noises. (Roger Norrington! Beware of Dog!) What I encounter instead in these performances is the delicacy of Schumann’s piano suites and the fine ear of a pianist who knows this music must dance. In fairness, the Lausanne Chamber Orchestra is not that small—perhaps 50-strong here—but usually the temptation would be to overcompensate with smaller-dog tensile energy.
Happily we find instead kinder, gentler versions of big-orchestra Schumann. This approach works best in the inner movements of both symphonies, but also especially well in the danceable opening allegro of the Fourth. Taken a bit faster than usual, the Adagio of the Second Symphony could actually propel a couple gracefully around the room. In the outer movements we get similar tea-dance spirit, but at the slight expense of something larger and more exciting. This is such smooth, euphonious cozy Schumann; it is almost Dvo?ák.
Schumann, of course, was obsessed by the sound of disembodied trumpets during the composition of his Second Symphony. And there is more metaphysical fear and Wagnerian mystery to be captured in its introduction than heard here. Christoph Eschenbach evoked this hauntingly in his Bamberg cycle for Virgin in the early ’90s. And Ernest Ansermet, just up the road in Geneva, didn’t do badly with it, either. Small forces have difficulty with the stasis of mood and mystery. In particular, tremoli with a large complement of strings can evoke the infinite nature of things. But in reduced numbers, they demystify and can pester like flies at a picnic.
So I shall not argue that Zacharias has exhausted the possibilities found in these symphonies, just that the beauty of his approach will surprise you, in delicious but unobtrusive surround sound. If there is perhaps more grit, force, and sheer amorous passion to be found in the Second Symphony, well, Clara Schumann would certainly have thought so. As a small symbol in her diaries reveals, she and Schumann had sex virtually every day for 10 years! I always suspected girls loved Schumann!
FANFARE: Steven Kruger
Uto Ughi plays Beethoven
Celebrating the 250th anniversary of his birth, Sony Music Entertainment presents four major reissues devoted to Ludwig van Beethoven in its series of Classical Masters. Among the treasures in these new budget-priced sets are the complete symphonies, string quartets and violin sonatas performed by illustrious musicians of the past century.
The Italian violinist Uto Ughi studied with Enesco, was signed by EMI while still in his teens and went on to become a major RCA artist in the 1980s and 90s. In 1978, he recorded Beethoven’s 10 Violin Sonatas with Lamar Crowson, whom none less than Alfred Brendel described as “one of the finest chamber music pianists of our day”. The set was acclaimed on its release in Italy on LPs but has been largely unavailable since then, making this first release on four albums particularly enticing to the many admirers of these two superb musicians.
REVIEW:
Sony Classical’s budget price release of a 1978 Beethoven cycle originally issued by Dischi Ricordi featuring violinist Uto Ughi and pianist Lamar Crowson comes as a welcome surprise. The 34-year-old Ughi’s instrumental mastery and intelligent musicianship were captured at the cusp of his early maturity. His burnished, almost viola-like sonority is firmly focused in every register, abetted by impeccable intonation and a knack for tossing off the most difficult passagework with flawless ease. More to the point, however, Ughi consistently taps into the sometimes stressful dramatic, dynamic, and emotional contrasts that characterize Beethoven’s style, as does his expert collaborator Lamar Crowson.
The G major Op. 30 No. 3’s Allegro assai exemplifies this in how the duo offsets their fleet and winged treatment of Beethoven’s lyrical themes with appropriately hard-hitting szforzandos and driving climaxes. Another cogent case of “opposites attracting” can be found in both the refinement of the rapid runs and the unfettered dynamic surges in the A minor Op. 23 Allegro molto finale (sound clip). Listeners also will notice the playfully dovetailed imitative writing in the “Spring” and Op. 30 No. 2 Scherzi, and, conversely, the controlled rapture of Op. 96’s sublime central movement, where Ughi’s sheer tonal beauty and seamless bow control yield no quarter to the immense catalogue competition.
Each variation in the “Kreutzer” sonata’s middle movement conveys a distinct character, yet easily flows from one to the next. I also like how Ughi’s unexpected accents or points of emphasis appear to push the finale’s scurrying triplets ahead of the beat, yet never actually do so. In this sonata, however, Crowson proves less assertive a partner than the conductor/pianist Wolfgang Sawallisch in Ughi’s stunning and slightly superior early digital-era RCA Victor remake, coupled with the “Spring”. A pity that these later alternative readings didn’t find their way into this bargain box, along with Ughi’s still-artistically-competitive and long unavailable RCA Beethoven concerto with Sawallisch conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. Still, the 1978 Ughi/Crowson cycle is a veritable sleeper, worth considering as a supplement alongside the Dumay/Pires, Perlman/Ashkenazy, and Grumiaux/Haskil reference versions.
-- ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)
Clementi: Piano Concerto; Two Symphonies, Op. 18
Röntgen: Symphonies Nos. 7, 11, 12, 14, 22-24 / Porcelijn
We now once again can continue our comprehensive and successful Röntgen Edition with a new production containing two albums dedicated to his last symphonies. These works once again demonstrating that Röntgen was the most highly imaginative composer in Holland during the second half of the nineteenth century. Julius Röntgen composed his Symphony no. 12 in C major (“In Babylone”) in 1930, along with eight further symphonies. Seven of these works are laid out in a single movement and last from ten to 15 minutes. The actual main theme of Symphony no. 12 is only heard at the end in the plein jeu of the organ. At the beginning of 1930 Julius Röntgen was awarded an honorary doctorate from the University of Edin‑burgh. The degree was proposed by Professor Donald Francis Tovey, with whom he had already developed a friendship by 1910. Tovey considered Röntgen the last link in a chain proceeding from Beethoven, Schubert and Brahms, a man capable of telling and teaching us of these 19th‑century titans. Röntgen was so surprised and delighted at the prospect of this tribute that he immediately set out to compose his Seventh Symphony in F minor, the “Edinburgh” Symphony. Following the model of Joseph Haydn and his “Oxford” Symphony, he intended to present it to the university’s senate at the awards ceremony. Röntgen celebrated the Christmas season and New Year’s Day with the newly married couple in Winterthur, where his newest – and last – symphony originated in 1930. Symphony no. 14 in D major (“Winterthur”) makes do with a small amount of material. The horns enter on natural harmonics in D major, seemingly emerging directly from the Alpine scenery.
Beethoven: The Late Piano Sonatas / Igor Levit
All of the positive attention and high praise that 26-year-old pianist Igor Levit has garnered in Europe is thoroughly justified by his Sony Classical debut release encompassing Beethoven’s last five sonatas. Levit’s affinity for the composer’s essentially linear style and intense expressivity borders on clairvoyance, if you’ll forgive the cliché. You notice this immediately in Op. 101’s first and third movements, where thoughtful voice leading and flexible lyricism mesh into a single entity. Impressive pianistic poise and thoughtful dynamic scaling give clarity and meaning to the Scherzo’s obsessive march rhythms and difficult register leaps as well as to the Fugue’s knotty textures.
Levit takes the “Hammerklavier” first-movement Allegro at a tempo close to the composer’s admittedly optimistic metronome marking, yet the music ebbs and flows with characterful assurance. The Scherzo also takes bracing wing; it features biting cross-rhythmic accents and a ferocious ascending F major scale from bottom to top. You might describe Levit’s masterful Adagio sostenuto as a fusion of Rudolf Serkin’s classical reserve and Claudio Arrau’s depth of tone and vocally oriented inflection. In the finale’s introductory Largo, Levit piles into the jazzy broken-chord accelerando with shattering abandon, and brings plenty of drama, dynamic contrast, and varied articulations to the fugue.
Following Op. 109’s eloquently shaped Vivace, Levit’s well sprung and sharply detailed second movement is one of the few on disc to make Beethoven’s detached and legato phrasings audible to the point where the music sounds faster than it actually is performed. Levit’s heartfelt, beautifully sung out, and assiduously unified third-movement variations easily measure up to the catalog’s finest versions. Op. 110 also stands out for Levit’s brilliant synthesis of personal poetry and scrupulous detail, while Op. 111 matches Mauruzio Pollini’s extraordinary exactitude (the first movement’s driving 16th-note sequences impeccably in place, the Arietta’s dotted rhythms’ spot-on accuracy and inner “swing”) with an extra hint of cantabile warmth. In short, this is Beethoven playing of the highest distinction, not to be missed.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
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This is a notable debut recording. Thanks to Igor Levit’s remarkably even touch and precise rhythmic control, the scores’ details, minutely realized, are fashioned into lucid, structurally sound interpretations. This isn’t a pianist trying to outdo others with speed, volume, or extreme interpretations, but a musician whose tasteful instincts produce Beethoven performances with purity of expression and a certain reserve.
Most striking is the gentle songfulness that Levit brings to lyrical movements, such as the brief Allegretto —an endless melody in four-part texture, singled out by more than a few people, Glenn Gould included, as their favorite movement in all of Beethoven’s sonatas—that opens the 28th Sonata, op. 101. In it, Levit succeeds at creating natural phrase divisions without breaking long lines, something that sounds easy when it’s done this well. (Anyone who has tried to play it knows how extremely difficult this is, and how disjointed the movement can sound.) The Sonata’s technically punishing second movement’s dotted rhythms and rests are perfectly executed at an unrushed tempo, and in the final movement, Levit’s comic timing and articulation rivals the very best versions of the Sonata, such as Richard Goode’s.
A generation ago, one often made allowances in performances of the “Hammerklavier,” except perhaps for Pollini, for broader than ideal tempos in the first movement to accommodate technical difficulties, or moments of stressful scrambling to get through the fugue. Judging by some recent recordings of the work—by the excellent Van Cliburn Competition medalist Sean Chen, Mari Kodama (see Jerry Dubins’s review in Fanfare 37:3), and now Igor Levit—there are clear signs that pianists’ technique in the 21st century has caught up with the Sonata’s demands. Levit’s Apollonian reading is more fluent and less heaven-storming than most. This is a young man’s “Hammerklavier,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if he were to infuse the first and third movements with more drama, through the taking of time, later in his life. He plays the first movement at 132 to the quarter in a tempo that sounds just right—Beethoven’s metronome marking, once considered impossible to realize, is 138— achieving a kind of ecstatic swing whose confident steadiness and occasional lightness doesn’t diminish the music’s profundity. The slow movement, taken exactly at Beethoven’s metronome marking of 92, is gentler than many performances, less grandly soul-searching, but serious and intimate.
In the last three sonatas, I find Levit even better than Paul Lewis, whose well-considered performances sound merely like good piano playing compared to the poised, unearthly effect—I’m thinking here of the final movements of Nos. 30 and 32, in particular—that Levit achieves with his finer technical control. The highlights here are, once again, the lyrical movements, though op. 109’s Presstissimo second movement goes like quicksilver, and op. 110’s Allegro molto is a suitably brusque interruption of the work’s otherwise exalted proceedings. In the final pages of op. 110—the triumphant return of a fugue that has been interrupted and turned around by a grief-stricken lament—I find Levit’s tempo too fast, its fluency too easily achieved. I prefer Mitsuko Uchida’s more measured realization of these tricky tempo relationships.
In the Maestoso introduction to the 32nd Sonata, op. 111, Levit’s strict dotted rhythms reveal the music’s kinship to a French overture and provide continuity, unlike Andrew Rangell’s, whose freer concept of the rhythm bogs the music down. Unlike Barenboim in his 1980s DG recording, Levit doesn’t make the slow Arietta a static dirge. His pacing allows the second movement’s sublime variations to unfold with great logic and inevitability. His interpretation of op. 111 is close to Richter’s (a 1975 performance) in its straightforward pacing, but Levit’s voicing doesn’t have Richter’s laser-like exaggeration of top lines. His right hand comes out as needed in all of these performances, but with an appealingly unforced sonority.
The Richter comparison came to mind as I watched Igor Levit on YouTube, not because the two pianists’ playing is particularly similar, but because of their shared Russian-German background, and Levit’s eclectic, rather austere repertoire choices. Both pianists’ quiet concentration conveys the sense that whatever they’re playing is of life-and-death importance, though the grim, aggressive aura that Richter sometimes projected isn’t part of Levit’s image. Levit’s videos of music by Hindemith, Reger, Beethoven (the Third Concerto), and the Bach-Brahms Chaconne arranged for left hand, show that the intensity and refinement of his Beethoven sonatas is no fluke.
Thanks are due to Sony for taking on a serious young pianist in repertoire of his choice, and providing him with sensitive engineering that showcases his full range of dynamics. There’s every indication that this recording introduces one of the 21st century’s important pianists.
FANFARE: Paul Orgel
Buxtehude: VII Suonate Op 2 / Purcell Quartet
By the end of his life, the fame of Dietrich Buxtehude as an organist was so great that in 1706 the young J.S. Bach took four weeks' leave from his employment at Arnstadt and travelled on foot over 200 miles to Lübeck to hear him perform in concert. Ironically, the meteoric rise of the career of Bach himself as a composer meant that, until very recently, Buxtehude was primarily known simply as a forerunner to the great man, when in fact he was a major composer in his own right. These Trio Sonatas for violin, viola da gamba, and harpsichord are remarkable examples of Buxtehude's beautiful chamber music, and anyone expecting them to follow a set of pre-established procedures will be surprised. Inventive and full of life, each of the sonatas is different from the others, ranging from dance-like pieces and little fugues to variation sets with some dynamic duets between the violin and viola da gamba, and slow, airy pieces too. The recording complements CHAN 0766 (Trio Sonatas, Op. 1) of which Early Music Today wrote: 'The Purcell Quartet brings its customary virtues to these perceptive period-instrument interpretations: incisiveness, tonal transparency and excellent rapport and blend.' Through twenty-nine years and nearly fifty recordings of a huge range of repertoire, The Purcell Quartet has established itself as a leader in the area of baroque chamber music, not shrinking away from taking on fully staged productions of Purcell'sDido and Aeneas and Monteverdi's L'incoronazione di Poppea and Orfeo. The Quartet has toured the world, including the USA, Chile, Bolivia, Colombia, Peru, Japan, Turkey, and all the countries of Europe, and collaborated with the very finest singers, among them Susan Gritton, Nancy Argenta, Catherine Bott, Emma Kirkby, Julia Gooding, Michael Chance, Dominique Visse, Guy de Mey, Mark Padmore, Charles Daniels, Peter Harvey, and Richard Wistreich. The Purcell Quartet has recorded exclusively for Chandos Records since 1987, its discography now numbering more than forty discs.
C.P.E. Bach: Empfindsamkeit
Dvorak: Symphony No 9, Serenade For Strings / Ormandy Et Al
Ormandy certainly coaxes playing of great character and spontaneity out of the 60s vintage LSO. The strings throughout have marvellous bite and cohesion. Sample the soaring violins at 3.32 in the first movement, or the rich cellos and basses later in the same movement. Ormandy seems fairly content to play things ‘straight’, which suits me to a degree, though some conductors, most notably Kubelik (DG) and Kondrashin (Decca), are willing to take a few more risks to bring out the life and drama beneath the notes. Nevertheless, Ormandy makes sure that precision and adherence to the score is paramount, and this brings many rewards. The great Largo is never sentimentalised, and the Scherzo has real flair and panache, with the LSO wind particularly fine. The Finale has a sense of grandeur and breadth that is very satisfying, and while there may be more individual accounts in the catalogue, this performance has a lot going for it.
Kempe’s unforced, eloquent reading of the wonderful Serenade also has its own special magic. He takes a relaxed view of the opening, shaping the lyrical first theme in a slow, affectionate way that then contrasts with the slightly sharper rhythmic point for the second subject. There is real concentration in every bar, and though the Munich strings may not be world class, they respond enthusiastically to their great conductor. The Valse movement has a lovely lilt, as well as dramatic impulse, and the engaging Scherzo is matched by the warmth of the Larghetto. I’ve heard the Finale played with a touch more Slavonic bite and precision, but Kempe keeps a firm grip on proceedings and achieves a genuinely exciting climax. The recording is also warmer and slightly more focused than the older Ormandy.
This disc enters a very crowded field but has its rewards. I found myself hearing details in both performances that marked them out, and anyone who is more interested in genuine music-making rather than state-of–the-art sound will not be disappointed.
-- Tony Haywood, MusicWeb International
Scarlatti: Sonaten pour le clavecin Vol 1 / Andreas Staier
All these facets are zestfully displayed on this stimulating disc. Apart from genuine Spanish dances—the bulerias of Kk492, the peteneras of 502 and the Andalusian 519 which bubbles from minor to major—there are impressions of street processions (490, 491 with unmistakable sounds of trumpets, horns and drums, and a marching element in 518) and the exciting rattle of castanets or tambourines in the rapid note-reiterations of 141, 119 and 455, and Scarlatti's unique telescoped chords (490 and the even more dissonant 119). His unexpected modulations and side-stepping key-changes are to be heard in several sonatas, and his stamping basses in 502 and 517. And besides the hurtling arpeggios or broken-chord patterns (141, 454) and chains of trills (118, 501) there are the Scarlattian quirks such as the out-of-step octave unisons in 203 or the surprise changes of metre in 502. It is a pity we can't see Staier performing the vertiginous cross-hand leaps in the remarkable 108, as well as in 118 and the exuberant 119, but the sheer breakneck speed at which he plays 517, shooting off like an arrow from a bow, will leave listeners breathless.
He uses a harpsichord of German type with the G in alt called for in 454, 455 and 502, makes a few logically defensible registration changes in some sonatas, and adds occasional discreet ornamentation on repeats (which are fully observed except in five cases). This is a most enjoyable disc, which I would recommend very highly: there are many recordings of Scarlatti, but this is among the best.
-- Lionel Salter, Gramophone [2/1992]
