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Myaskovsky, Liadov, Rimsky-Korsakov: Cello Music / Wallfisch, Callaghan, Janáček Philharmonic
CPO · Feb 2023CD$18.99 -
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Trumpet Concertos / Gabor Tarkovi, Karl-heinz Steffens, Bamberger Symphoniker
Tudor · Nov 2010SACD$21.99 -
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C. P. E. Bach: The Complete Works for Piano Solo / Markovina
Haenssler Classic · Apr 2014CD$117.99 -
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Schumann, Grieg, Saint-Saëns: Piano Concertos / Shelley, Greed, Opera North Orchestra
Chandos · Mar 2009CD$21.99 -
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Holst: St Paul's Suite; Warlock: Capriol Suite/ Sir Adrian Boult, Vernon Handley
Lyrita · Nov 2007CD$20.99 -
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Tchaikovsky: Symphony No 2, Rococo Variations, Andante Cantabile / Elschenbroich, Kitayenko
Oehms Classics · Jan 2013SACD$19.99 -
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A THING CALLED JOE
FALLEN TREES
STILL CALLED THE BLUES
CHOPIN: SONATE OP. 65; SCHUMANN: ADAGIO
Allegri: Miserere; Britten, Etc / Short, Filsell, Tenebrae
Britten’s Hymn to St. Cecilia is a terrifically inventive piece of music in which the composer shows real flair in his writing for unaccompanied choir, even if Auden’s text seems rather high-flown in its imagery and somewhat verbose. Tenebrae not only rise to its manifold challenges but also surmount them with ease. They are excellent too in Holst’s splendid setting of Psalm 148, receiving marvellous support from Jeremy Filsell at the organ.
But in many ways the best is saved for last. Sir William Harris’s sumptuous setting for double choir of words by Edmund Spenser is, for me, one of the glories of English church music. It moves from the rarefied celestial atmosphere of the quiet opening to the blazing conviction and excitement of the passage at “And those eternall burning Seraphims” – Tenebrae are marvellous here – before the pacific mood returns at the close. The performance of this miniature masterpiece is thrilling in every respect. Indeed, I feel that here Nigel Short and his singers come close to realising the “endlesse perfectnesse” of which Spenser speaks.
This is an outstanding disc, which I have enjoyed greatly. The sheer quality of singing has always impressed me on the previous discs I’ve heard from this choir and, indeed, when I’ve heard them live. This new release is as good as any I’ve heard from them. The engineering is excellent and the disc comes with a good booklet including full texts. Another winner from Tenebrae!
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
SCHUBERT: PIANO SONATAS D 784 & D 959; ALLEGRETTO
Wilhelm Backhaus: The Complete Pre-War Beethoven Recordings

Wilhelm Backhaus (1884–1969) left a 60-year recorded legacy which began in 1908, but though known particularly for Beethoven and Brahms in his later years, he performed a much wider repertoire before the war (as seen on the companion album which presents works by Chopin, Liszt and Schumann) and the four sonatas and two concertos included here are the totality of his early Beethoven output. These are nevertheless important recordings – the ‘Emperor’ concerto was only the second ever recording and the first recorded by the ‘electric’ process. The 4th became an instant classic and still stands high among recorded versions. The sonatas benefit from the spontaneity of youth – the didactic and gruff presentation which occasionally afflicts Backhaus’s later complete sonata cycles is little in evidence here. Three of the sonatas were issued with Bach ‘fillers’ and we have included these here to reveal yet another side of Backhaus’ musicianship.
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REVIEW:
Backhaus has a particularly fascinating way with the development of the G major’s opening Allegro. The sonatas are a bit of a mixed bag, some superior to his later recordings, others not.
– Gramophone
The Pathétique was recorded the day after the Emperor and is an example of his unmannered (other than tempo speeding in the finale), direct, largely uneffusive sonata playing. The Moonlight has rather too many punctuation points for comfort but is otherwise eloquently phrased with real brio in the finale. Les Adieux is perhaps the pick of these early sonata readings for its consistency of vision; sometimes in Op.101 he is inclined to go hell-for-leather. This disc ends with a particularly beguiling performance of Clarence Lucas’ arrangement from Bach’s Christmas Oratorio.
– MusicWeb International
Greene: Overtures & Lessons; Boyce: Voluntaries
Telemann: The Autograph Scores / Standage, Collegium Musicum 90
TELEMANN Suites: in F, TWV 55:F16 ; in A, TWV 55:A7 ; in D, TWV 55:D23 . Concerto in D for Strings, TWV 43:D4 . Fanfare in D, TWV 50:44 . Divertimento in E?, TWV 50:21 • Simon Standage, cond; Collegium Musicum 90 (period instruments) • CHACONNE 0787 (79:18)
It seems like the Telemann fountain is flowing full force nowadays, with a number of recordings appearing like clockwork each month, and I’ve no doubt that the vast number of his compositions are very much in danger of being all recorded, that is, those that haven’t been lost. This disc brings together a selection of instrumental pieces performed by the venerable Simon Standage with the equally venerable and reputable Collegium Musicum 90, which he founded with the late Richard Hickox. Indeed, the Telemann offerings by this ensemble and its director are of such number, variety, and excellence that they were awarded the Telemann prize in 2010, an honor that shows their stature in this massive revival.
This disc does not disappoint, either, although only one of the six works presented is given its world premiere. This is the Divertimento in E?, which seems in every other way little more than a conventional suite of French dances but contains a rather nice dramatic element in the movement titles that offer something more than expected. It would seem that for someone who wrote such a tremendous amount of music, one would have scads of autographs all about, but in Telemann’s case, oddly enough, these seem to be a rarity. As few as 18 of the instrumental works exist in his own hand, nine of which are actually in a single collection written for and dedicated to the Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt, Ludwig VIII. This disc takes three of these works, written when the composer was 86 years old in 1766, opera ultima if ever there were. The remaining three are earlier, probably closer to 1708 or so when he was Kapellmeister at Sorau in Silesia, now Poland. It is no matter, for the thread that links them is that all are in the French style, dances that alternate fast and slow in the manner of the suite. Only in the Overture-Suite in A Major (titled Concert en Ouverture ) is there a hint of a soloist, in this case a vehicle for violinist Standage to shine. More interestingly, however, is that three of the works from late in the composer’s life include a pair of horns, as well as flutes, coming close to the standard Classical-period orchestra.
Since most have been recorded before, only a few words will suffice about the works themselves. The F-Major suite is very Handelian, with exaggerated French dotted rhythms at the opening, but the harmonies momentarily veer off into strange areas, one of Telemann’s trademarks, as is the outdoorsy feel of the Allegro section with its hunting calls. In the Bourrée that follows, the horns begin this dance in their high register, adding tonal punch to the line, but in the second part, the folk-song character in the decisive rhythms makes a nice complement. The final movement is titled “The Tempest,” and the skirling strings and echoing horns entrances, not to mention a nice crescendo at the beginning of each section, is quite dramatic. In the concerto grosso, I find the opening Andante amusing, almost like Telemann is teaching his ensemble exercises, but his penchant for folk rhythms reasserts itself in the Vivace that follows. One might also note the perpetual-motion finale of the A-Major suite, with its maniacal Gigue and final unexpected cadential flourish. The Divertimento is a perfect little gem, almost a dramatic and very civilized scene that begins with a quick awakening, a mincing gavotte that evokes a conversation at the table, and a brief hunt. Here we are more in the world of early Classicism than the rather more Baroque style of the remainder of the works on the disc.
About the performances themselves, Collegium Musicum 90 is up to its usual standard of excellence. The interpretation is finely nuanced, the attention to dynamic and rhythmic contrast clear, and the intonation spot-on. This rapport is clearly something that Standage and his group have achieved over the years, and this disc only adds to an already world-class reputation. I find some nice surprises, such as the rather prominent horns in the opening movement of the F-Major overture, which I suspect may have been playing bells-up in order to achieve the bucolic sound, very different from the more refined work elsewhere. The flutes are equally clear in their performances. All around, this disc can be highly recommended, even if you have most of the works on other recordings. I would make this one your standard.
FANFARE: Bertil van Boer
Myaskovsky, Liadov, Rimsky-Korsakov: Cello Music / Wallfisch, Callaghan, Janáček Philharmonic
For the last ten years or so, there has been a gratifying renewal of interest in the eminent Russian composer Nikolai Myaskovsky, whose career spanned the late Romantic to early Modern periods. His creative legacy deserves far greater attention than is currently paid to him: Myaskovsky's music demonstrates the highest level of craftsmanship and explores a very unique realm of emotional and soulful experience. His Cello Concerto, Op. 66, was composed in the last three months of 1944. What prompted Myaskovsky to compose this work is not known, since the work was neither commissioned by a performer nor written for a specific artist. It was probably intended to contribute to the growing repertoire of instrumental concertos being created for the rising generation of young Soviet virtuosos.
The two-movement concerto opens with a contemplative Lento ma non troppo in a modified sonata form, with a brief solo cadenza taking the place of the development. The prevailing autumnal melancholy mood is balanced by a passionate second theme in major. The ensuing Allegro vivace is shaped as a rondo, with two slow episodes complementing the energetic main theme with its lively triplets. After a brilliant cadenza, the movement reaches its climax when the material of the opening movement is resumed, then leads into a meditative coda. In addition, two virtuoso cello sonatas by Myaskovsky can be heard. The remaining pieces on this CD are by Myaskovsky's teachers at the St. Petersburg Conservatory - Nikolai Rimsky-Korssakoff, who taught him the art of orchestration, and Anatoly Lyadoff, with whom he studied harmony, counterpoint, and free composition.
Trumpet Concertos / Gabor Tarkovi, Karl-heinz Steffens, Bamberger Symphoniker
"The oft-recorded Haydn Concerto is vividly recorded with the signal completely unclouded. This reveals Tarkövi’s peach-tender full fat tone. This is on best display in the Andante of the Haydn which paves the way for the lickety-split allegro. The charmingly decorous two-movement Leopold Mozart Concerto features harpsichord continuo. Neruda’s Trumpet Concerto - like the Hummel work - returns us to the conventional three movement template. Prague-based Neruda wrote 18 symphonies, 10 violin concertos, one bassoon concerto, 34 trio-sonatas and, among much else, this trumpet concerto. It is a fluent work with some very eloquent noble invention in the opening Allegro and many touching and original turns in the solo line in the final Vivace. Hummel opens with sturm und drang before making way for some witty light-on-the-feet material. It is good to be reminded that Hummel wrote such a sweetly inclined concerto. Tarkövi is always pleasingly ripe-toned though he is not always ideally attentive to staccato demands. On the other hand mechanical noise from the pistons is imperceptible except once during the trills at the end of the first movement of the Hummel. There is much to enjoy here among these four concertos written between 1762 and 1803.
It is typical of Tudor that their booklet which is in three languages is a joy to use. It affords plenty of information about the music and the sensible font design and size is kind to the eyes."
-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International
C. P. E. Bach: The Complete Works for Piano Solo / Markovina

This 26-CD set containing CPE Bach’s complete solo piano works represents a landmark of the highest importance and, more significantly, listening pleasure. Ana-Marija Markovina has made a specialty of playing these works. She previously recorded the Prussian and Württemburg sonatas (for Genuin), but it is difficult to overstate the richness and variety found on these discs, or Markovina’s consistent success in rendering it all with such freshness, excitement, intensity, and charm. CPE Bach’s keyboard output consists primarily of sonatas, dozens of them, ranging over the entire course of his career, roughly from the 1740s through the 1780s. Most are three-movement pieces in fast-slow-fast form, but there are also rondos, fantasias, variations, character pieces, teaching pieces, arrangements of concertos and other orchestral works, dances, and everything from the very simple to the exceptionally complex, both technically and expressively—an entire world. More astonishingly, the quality of this music is almost uniformly high. Bach was a true craftsman, and while everyone will have their favorite works–and it’s pointless to say that it’s all equally good–you can sample just about anything on any of these discs and you will find plenty to enjoy and captivate your attention.
Markovina plays this music on the modern piano, the instrument that comes closest to any available in Bach’s day to realizing his clearly notated intentions. For example, he almost always asks for a full range of dynamics, from pp to ff, and his writings make clear that he valued above all a beautifully sustained, singing tone. The clavichord offered him the most possibilities in this regard at the start of his career, while in his last years his clear preference was for the piano (even though he had expressed reservations about early versions of the instrument in his 1750s Essay on the True Art of Playing the Keyboard). Markovina exploits the piano’s full dynamic range, as well as its ability to vary articulation, sustain the melodic line, and add muscle to Bach’s emphatic and often syncopated rhythmic schemes. In this respect she is far bolder than, say, Danny Driver’s genteel, almost effeminate CPE Bach recordings on Hyperion.
However, the most telling comparison has to be made with Miklós Spányi’s ongoing series of the complete keyboard works for BIS. Spányi uses period instruments, which have some advantages (the clavichord’s vibrato, for example), but also all of their inadequacies, including a lack of sustaining power and often a great deal of mechanical noise. On the piano, Bach’s music sounds modern; on early instruments, it sounds old. This contrast is exacerbated by Spányi’s inability to play a true allegro at speed. Consider, for example, the marvelous Sonata in B minor Wq. 65/13, which dates from the 1740s. The finale is marked “Allegro molto”. Spányi takes about six minutes (on the clavichord), Markovina slightly more than three. The difference in both sonority and expressive intensity is shocking, with Markovina infinitely more powerful and exciting.
CPE Bach’s modern reputation rests largely on his music in the “empfindsamer Stil”, with its highly expressive, emotionally eruptive, and constantly surprising writing; but a little-known aspect of this style was also the attempt to imbue music with a genuine sense of humor. Haydn, for example, learned a great deal from Bach’s pregnant use of silence. So rather than offer the usual examples of minor-key pathos, I offer as a listening sample the start of “L’Aly Rupalich”, a character piece also provisionally entitled “La Bach”, and possibly intended as a self-portrait of the composer. CPE Bach scholar Paul Corneilson describes the work as “a disco piece”, and how right he is.
Corneilson is also the Managing Editor of the Packard Humanities Institute’s ongoing CPE Bach Complete Edition, and it is largely thanks to that organization that this set of recordings has been made possible. CPE Bach fans, then, should be delighted to know that Corneilson has assembled an absolutely splendid volume of scores under the title The Essential C.P.E. Bach, containing 25 “greatest hits” from the composer’s keyboard, chamber, orchestral, and vocal music. Retailing for only $50, this beautifully printed, 350-page volume also contains excellent introductions to the composer as well as all of the music contained therein, a bibliography, a select discography, and a concordance that helps to locate each work by Wotquenne and Helm numbers.
Highlights include not only “L’Aly Rupalich”, a selection of sonatas, and the wonderful Rondo in E minor subtitled “Farewell to My Silberman Clavichord”, but also the Sonata for Unaccompanied Flute, the programmatic Sonata in C minor for Two Violins and Bass, and the amazingly dark Fantasia in F-sharp minor for Violin and Keyboard “CPE Bach’s Emotions”. There are also two complete symphonies, two complete concertos, and among the vocal pieces a bit of the celebrated Magnificat and the extraordinary Heilig for double chorus and double orchestra, a masterwork that everyone who loves Bach (Sr.) and Handel really must hear (there’s a fabulous performance on Harmonia Mundi).
You can order the score directly here, and I can’t recommend this elegant and smartly assembled volume highly enough. The same holds true of Markovina’s big box of Bach. I know, 26 CDs is a lot, and you’re not going to be playing them every day, but the important thing to remember is that you could, and you’d never be bored.
David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Schumann, Grieg, Saint-Saëns: Piano Concertos / Shelley, Greed, Opera North Orchestra
March's Disc of the Month sees Howard Shelley, recently awarded an OBE for his services to music, conduct the Orchestra of Opera North from the piano. In this his latest recording for Chandos Shelley turns his attention to three popular concertos in the piano repertoire: Robert Schumann's only completed piano concerto, Grieg's single piano concerto and Saint- Saëns Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor. These authoritative performances shed new light on three wellloved works, brought together on one disc for the first time. Shelley elucidates his revelatory approach to the works: 'Ever since I first fell in love with Schumann's Piano Concerto in my early teens, I have been intrigued and slightly puzzled by the tradition of slowing the fourth bar of the Allegro affettuoso first movement to what is effectively no more than an Andante, even though there is no indication of any tempo shift in the score. A metronome marking of 84 to the minim, taken from Schumann's manuscript, is given in almost all editions of this work, reducing only to 72 to the dotted minim for the central Andante espressivo section. These are extraordinarily fast basic tempos. There are similar issues in the second movement - a surprisingly fast metronome mark, suggesting perhaps a lighter lyricism than we are sometimes used to, especially in the big cello melody - and also in the first movement of Saint-Saëns's Second Concerto, which is often taken at about half its marked speed. As for Grieg's Concerto, we are fortunate to have Percy Grainger's very informative and detailed notes on the piece, as he discussed it with the composer. Elsewhere he points out that Grieg's tempos were generally faster than when others played the piece. These are some of the considerations which have led to the interpretations on this recording. Directing a highly responsive orchestra from the keyboard has also allowed me great freedom in realising my ideas.'
Knudage Riisager: The Symphonic Edition, Vol. 3
The Fourth Symphony, subtitled Sinfonia gaia, is actually a wartime work, its avowed cheerfulness sometimes taking on an air of desperation in the rhythmic obstinacy of its outer movements. Riisager’s Fifth Symphony also belies its title: Sinfonia serena. Scored for strings with a virtuoso timpani part, the movement titles are curious. There’s a scherzo marked “Vivace ilare” (“hilarious”), and the finale is an “Allegro spregiudicato” (“Unprejudiced allegro”), surely a first in musical history. As can hear for yourself from a sample of the second movement, the hilarity is primarily rhythmic, and once again the limited forces give no hint on paper of the actual range of tone color that Riisager actually obtains from his ensemble.
Bo Holten and the Aarhus Symphony play all of this music, most of it shamefully neglected, with unflagging energy, and that is precisely what it needs. I would not listen to the entire disc at a sitting. Riisager’s emphasis on dextrous counterpoint and intensive rhythmic interplay can be exhausting in large doses. Take each work one at a time and you’ll be delighted. The engineering, too, is superb, save perhaps for a touch of performance noise in the Sinfonia concertante. This is a splendid conclusion to a great series.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Voices of Defiance / Dover Quartet
None of the three works here has any declared programmatic intent, but knowing their provenance–Ullmann wrote his quartet while a prisoner in Theresienstadt in 1943; Laks composed his in 1945, after his liberation from years in Auschwitz; Shostakovich’s work came during a stay north of Moscow as war still raged during the summer of 1944–makes it easy to hear within the pages of each, so profoundly and movingly realized by the Dover musicians, more than mere echoes of the myriad, often conflicting emotions arising from the ever-present, inescapable tension and turmoil. Not surprisingly, these include both sadness and longing, but there are also moments in each of these works of beauty and optimism, as well as assertiveness. Whether some or all of these expressive components might add up to something called “defiance”—say, in these works’ more aggressive passages, or perhaps by the simple expression of hope, of serenity in the face of depression, violence, and death—is for each listener to decide.
Viktor Ullmann’s Quartet No. 3 is one of the finest quartets of the 20th century, immediately engaging from those opening seventh chords to the final (defiant?) G major exclamations. Descriptions of the work always include references to Schoenberg (with whom Ullmann studied), and though the influence is discernible (the harmonic freedom; a brief flirtation with a tone row), the style and structure are modeled more traditionally. And while Ullmann plays with tonal ambiguity here and there, the work remains in the tonal world.
Commentators–and even publishers–seem to disagree about the quartet’s organization: four movements? five? or two, as presented in this Dover performance? The Dovers combine the first three sections–Allegro moderato, Presto, Largo–almost without pause, which makes good musical sense; the “second movement” is more like a coda, short, fast, assertive, “mischievous”, darting and dancing until its brief recall of those opening chords.
The Dovers choose to slightly underplay certain dynamics and soften some of the score’s indicated articulations and accents, making contrasts less extreme than they might be (narrowing the range from forte to triple-forte, for instance, in the second movement; the light treatment of cello accents early in the first movement; the barely-there crescendo to forte in the opening measures). But there’s a consistency and balance to the quartet’s approach to this music whose poignancy is still quite real and truly projected. It’s a mystery why this work has received only a handful of recordings; it should be in every quartet’s repertoire, and in every music-lover’s library.
The Shostakovich String Quartet No. 2, on the other hand, has been recorded many times, and quite well, notably by another group on this same Cedille label, the Pacifica Quartet (see reviews). The Dover Quartet adds another exemplary performance, highlighted by the opening and closing minutes of the second movement–entrancing, reflective, serene, yet somehow intriguingly dark. In the third movement a disjointed waltz turns excitingly frenetic–made all the more effective by the Dover’s exacting articulation; the final movement conveys both “tension” and “dread”, just as Shaw describes. It’s a compelling, confident performance–perhaps that “imagery” Shaw and his colleagues imposed on the work really did make a difference!
Yes, we can imagine a “train whistle” at the opening of Szymon Laks’ String Quartet No. 3, as Shaw observes, followed by other allusions to a train ride theme. But you could more easily imagine something more abstract, as the music quickly becomes absorbed in developing Laks’ chosen Polish folk song thematic material. I have to say I wasn’t as enthralled with this work as I anticipated, based on first reading Shaw’s description of the music. Laks has an impressive and very moving story, having survived Auschwitz for more than two years, forced to perform music for his Nazi captors–and for prisoners going to their deaths.
The four-movement quartet stylistically fits very neatly in the company of Ullmann and Shostakovich; much of the musical language is similar (harmonic palette, off-kilter dance rhythms, for instance), yet, although written later than the other two quartets on the program, this work is far more “traditional” in its overall sound and manner. It also struck me as less idiomatic: it doesn’t immediately convince of its string quartet credibility, an essential string quartet nature and character.
Shaw was quite touched by the second movement (“one of the most impassioned and heartbreaking movements for string quartet I’ve ever heard”), and you may be too: it is very beautiful and obviously written from a place of deep reflection and emotion–and the Dovers play it that way. The other movements have moments of brilliance and beauty as well, from the playful, extended pizzicato of the third to the nifty, rich-textured, cleverly varied treatment of the folk melodies in the fourth. (Laks also doesn’t fail to show a bit of a sense of humor–or is it actually something more serious?– displayed in the very endings of the second and last movements.) For me, this piece is a little too long and perhaps guilty of overworking some of its material, but it’s also easy to hear how it would be fun to play, and would make an engrossing concert work.
The Dover Quartet has already demonstrated its deserved place among the world’s premier ensembles, and here, in its exploration and illumination of two lesser-known but also deserving composers and works, rescued from the ashes of mid-20th century Europe, shows a commitment not only to upholding the highest technical and interpretive standards, but to entertain and encourage inquisitive, open-eared audiences. And I should mention that the sound, from the Banff Centre in Alberta, Canada, expertly captures the “feel”, the presence of a string quartet playing live. Here also is another example of imaginative, enlightened–and enlightening–programming. Highly recommended.
– ClassicsToday.com (David Vernier)
Vivaldi Collection - Flute Concertos Vol 2 / Drahos, Et Al

The flute is probably the most serene instrument of all, aside from the harp. Its sound alone has a miraculously calming effect, evoking a mood of tranquility. This is assuming, of course, that the music being played is of a high and beauteous quality, something of which Antonio Vivaldi was certainly a master. The first concerto, "La tempesta di mare" (Sea storm), will be instantly recognizable by anyone who has seen recent diamond or wine commercials on television. The main theme's rapid upward scale is an engaging device the composer will use a few times throughout this collection. The Concerto in G minor, "La notte" (Night), creates an eerie atmosphere with its somber tones and very pregnant pauses, followed by a raging allegro. The D major concerto, "Il gardellino" (The Goldfinch) borrows the "The Four Seasons" technique of suggesting bird-song with two solo violins. Béla Drahos's playing in these and the remaining concertos captures the smile that is ever-present in Vivaldi's music with unerring skill and purity of tone. The Nicolaus Esterházy Sinfonia partners him with pungent, animated accompaniments. Naxos' warm recording enhances the effect of these engaging performances, which are simply as fine as any available.--Victor Carr, ClassicsToday.com
Auryn's Haydn Vol 5 Of 14 - Op. 20 / Auryn Quartet
Composer: Joseph Haydn (1732 - 1809)
Performers:
Matthias Lingenfelder, violin
Jens Oppermann, violin
Stewart Eaton, viola
Andreas Arndt, violoncello
Track Listing:
Disc One:
String quartet op. 20 no. 1, Hob. III:31 in E flat major
1. Allegro moderato
2. Menuet. Un poco allegretto
3. Affettuoso e sostenuto
4. Finale. Presto
String quartet op. 20 no. 2, Hob. III:32 in C major
5. Moderato
6. Capriccio. Adagio
7. Menuet. Allegretto
8. Fuga a quattro soggetti. Allegro
String quartet op. 20 no. 4, Hob. III:34 in D major
9. Allegro di molto
10. Un poco adagio e affettuoso
11. Menuet alla Zingarese. Allegretto
12. Presto e scherzando
Disc Two:
String quartet op. 20 no. 3, Hob. III:33 in G minor
1. Allegro con spirito
2. Menuet. Allegretto
3. Poco adagio
4. Finale. Allegro di molto
String quartet op. 20 no. 6, Hob. III:36 in A major
5. Allegro di molto e scherzando
6. Adagio
7. Menuet
8. Fuga con tre soggetti. Allegro
String quartet op. 20 no. 5, Hob. III:35 in F minor
9. Moderato
10. Menuet
11. Adagio
12. Finale. Fuga a due soggetti
Timing: 153:49
Beethoven: String Quartets Nos. 1-3 / Chiaroscuro Quartet
For a string player, Beethoven’s 16 quartets are of an importance similar to that of his sonatas to a pianist, or his symphonies to a conductor. As a body they form the culmination of all the chamber music composed before them, and to this day they remain a benchmark for every composer of string quartets. The Chiaroscuro Quartet begin their cycle of these works at the same place as Beethoven did, with the Op. 18 set which occupied him intensively for the best part of two years (1798 – 1800). The effort he put into these quartets was surely due to the fact that he had much to live up to – they would be measured against those of Haydn and Mozart, who had raised the genre to a supreme vehicle for ‘learned’ taste and subtle, civilized musical discourse. Beethoven was clearly determined that the six Op.?18 quartets should present the widest possible overview of his art. Of the three works included on this first volume, No.?1 in F major is the most imposing in scale and the widest in expressive range. In comparison, the second quartet, in G major, is more urbane and light-hearted, recreating the spirit of an eighteenth-century comedy of manners à la Haydn. The most lyrical of the set is Quartet No.?3 in D major, which despite its numbering was probably the first quartet that Beethoven completed.
REVIEW:
Quartet 3 in D major is the most striking, its first movement all surprises. Surprise 1 is its sense of improvisation, well conveyed by Alina Ibragimova. Surprise 2 is Ibragimova seamlessly introducing a second theme determinedly enjoying life. Surprise 3 is the cello, laying down a backcloth of octave leap then descent in quavers while the upper parts’ third theme comprises a spurting ascent and triumph of hammered crotchets. Surprise 4, all instruments together in a fourth theme of gracious chordal stability. Surprise 5, a crashing call to attention. Surprise 6: the development casts the opening theme in D minor. Surprise 7, a crisis with a surround of writhing quavers and conclusion of ff quavers in triplets by all. Surprise 8, a sudden calm and recapitulation. Surprise 9: the coda, Ibragimova bringing gazing, mystical questioning to that opening theme, the fourth theme response relieving it to return on an even keel, comfortably displayed by second violin and cello and enthusiastically validated by Ibragimova.
In the Andante con moto, the Chiaroscuros demonstrate the idée fixe of an opening theme progressing satisfyingly: just two largely rising sequences followed by two falling ones. The playful second theme is fastidiously pointed by Ibragimova and colleagues in turn. Soon comes an exploration of more sombre, questioning aspects of the first theme in a kind of variation proposed by first violin and cello and cast in pale sunlight, a striking effect from the Chiaroscuros’ gut strings, by first and second violins. Contrasted is the return of the second theme’s playfulness, then a wonderfully rounded, contrapuntally rich ‘variation’ of the first theme In the coda the cello brings a final observation of the shadowy low, and from first violin high, boundaries of the theme.
The third movement is an Allegro stylish dance from the Chiaroscuros, not labelled Minuet, not a Scherzo. It’s full of nuances well caught by the Chiaroscuros: pauses, rests and a sense of searching out the light. The ‘Trio’ in D minor has the second violin initiating running quavers, then the first taking them into upper register, the others treading saturninely the four-note ground bass Bach used in his Partita 2 for solo violin Ciaccona.
The Presto finale is an incisive display of rhythmic displacement, dynamic and textural contrasts, its development climax powerful. It sounds quite like 20th century music for strings. The Chiaroscuros deliver it with taste and polish, their coda both triumphant and carefree. The Dovers go for a lighter approach which, while matched by good contrast of accents and dynamics, doesn’t have the edge and tricksiness of the Chiaroscuros.
Best of the rest? In Quartet 1 in F major, the Adagio slow movement in D minor, marked affettuoso ed appassionato. From Ibragimova’s mournful first violin arioso there’s a vivid sense of exploring as well as experiencing this atmosphere of grief. Light comes with the F major second theme, started by second violin and sweetened by the first, a meditation extended by the viola, second and first violin in sustained, unhurried and unharried communion by the Chiaroscuros. Pianissimo reflection then moves suddenly to f despair, the Chiaroscuros gaunt and uncompromising, but becalmed by the first violin and viola in turn dwelling on the opening four notes of the first theme, so that also subject to meditation. Come the recapitulation of the first theme, after its first phrase the first violin is assaulted by the second and viola, to which it responds with movingly plaintive eloquence. The second theme return consoles, but D major sunlight is wintrier than F major. In the coda, the first violin takes frenzied flight in hemidemisemiquavers in septuplets, Claire Thirion’s cello staunchly maintains the first theme attacked by both violins. A crashing ff discord climax releases the first violin to muse in pitying empathy.
In Quartet 2 in G major, best is the finale, Allegro molto, quasi-Presto. The Chiaroscuros point well the soft, trim first theme before arrestingly sprightly loud wake-up. Then Thirion’s very loud entry of the theme, grittily delivered while Ibragimova half shrieks an equally determined counter motif, yet soon exchanges this for a delicate second theme, demurely echoed by Emilie Hörnlund’s viola, before a delightful sequence of luxuriant yawns from Ibragimova, before launching into a sylphlike dance. This provokes a bold re-entry of the first theme by second violin and viola with Ibragimova in wildly dazzling descant. The true first theme recapitulation begins quite docile, but Ibragimova decamps in showers of semiquavers. Thereafter the Chiaroscuros memorably keep the texture light, illuminating the contrapuntal ingenuity. The coda has a nicely pointed pp start before a crescendo to the scintillating ff close.
– MusicWeb International (Michael Greenhalgh)
Holst: St Paul's Suite; Warlock: Capriol Suite/ Sir Adrian Boult, Vernon Handley
Michael BALFE (1808-1870)
The Bohemian Girl: Galop (1843) [1:26]
Philharmonia Orchestra/Nicholas Braithwaite
Sir Edward ELGAR (1857-1934)
Variations on an Original Theme ‘Enigma’ Op. 36: X. Dorabella (1899) [2:41]
Pomp and Circumstance March No. 5 in C Op. 39 (1930) [5:41]
New Philharmonia Orchestra/Andrew Davis
Frederick DELIUS (1862-1934)
A Village Romeo and Juliet: The Walk to the Paradise Garden (1905) [10:49]
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Myer Fredman
Percy GRAINGER (1882-1961)
Shepherd’s Hey; The Immovable Do (1908-13; 1933-42) [2:11; 5:04]
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Nicholas Braithwaite
Sir Hamilton HARTY (1879-1941)
An Irish Symphony: The Fair-Day (1904) [3:01]
New Philharmonia Orchestra/Vernon Handley
Peter WARLOCK (1894-1930)
Capriol, Suite for full orchestra (1926-28) [9:47]
London Symphony Orchestra/Nicholas Braithwaite
Lord BERNERS (1883-1950)
The Triumph of Neptune: Hornpipe (1926) [1:50]
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Nicholas Braithwaite
Gustav HOLST (1874-1934)
St. Paul’s Suite for strings Op. 29 No. 2 (1913) [13:28]
English Chamber Orchestra/Imogen Holst
Ralph VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958)
Fantasia on a theme by Thomas Tallis (1910) [16:08]
rec. Jan 1979, Kingsway Hall (Balfe); Jan 1974, Walthamstow Assembly Hall (Elgar); Jan 1970, Walthamstow Assembly Hall (Delius); Aug 1978, Kingsway Hall (Grainger; Berners); April 1976, Kingsway Hall (Harty); Sept 1978, Watford Town Hall (Warlock); Jan 1968, Walthamstow Assembly Hall (RVW)
R E V I E W:
A fine introduction to Musical Britain
When I first saw the advert for this CD I assumed that it was the ‘sweepings up’ from the floor of the Lyrita studios: it was all the bits and pieces from their vinyl pressings that could not find a home elsewhere. Yet two things made me modify that view. Firstly I know that there is a vast amount of material awaiting re-release (the mono recordings of Jacob, White, Ireland and Wordsworth, for example) and secondly, as I listened to this CD I realised that it made a fine introduction to Musical Britain. I remember as a child books called the ‘Boy’s Guide to’ … Field-craft, Trains, Racing Cars et al. Perhaps this, in a more PC age, could be referred to as the "Individual’s Guide to British Music"?
The CD opens with a piece that was written when Great Britain was a ‘land without music.’ The Galop is probably the most famous excerpt from Michael Balfe’s best known opera: The Bohemian Girl. And of course it was once a Tommy Beecham ‘Lollipop’. Perhaps Balfe’s twenty-nine operas do not signify in the early 21st century when compared to G&S, Tippett or Benjamin Britten, but in his day he was a seriously popular composer. And Ireland – Balfe was born in Dublin - was at that time part of the United Kingdom!
I usually baulk at excerpting from Elgar’s Enigma Variations. My exception is the annual outing of Nimrod at the Cenotaph: I can forgive anything in those circumstances. So I suppose I am not really happy about one short variation being given here. Yet here it is - Dorabella which follows on from Nimrod and is a complete change of tone, mood and emotion. We hear the ‘stammering lightness’ and ‘merry chatter’ of Elgar’s helper and admired Dora Penny. It is a lovely piece that actually does stand alone … just about … although I feel that it is much more telling and effective following that great Beethovenian variation in the complete work.
And how often do we hear the P&C March No.5? Even enthusiasts of ‘Grunge’ cannot have avoided ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ in their lives’ journey. But how many know the other four (five)? I guess most people over the age of thirty-five will recall No. 4 in G being played as the recessional at the Prince and Princess of Wales’s wedding. The rest are little known and rarely heard. But please note that this late - it was composed four years before Elgar’s death - march is rather good. And the interesting thing is that most of us come to it afresh. It has not accrued the baggage - good, bad and indifferent - of being an alternative National Anthem played at the Proms.
I am not an opera fan, but I have always loved The Walk to Paradise Garden by Fred Delius. I know the opera A Village Romeo and Juliet and realise that it has a tragic context in that work. However, I got to know the piece on an old Beecham release of Delius orchestral works on Decca Eclipse and have had my own programme for this work ever since! So I suggest that listeners dump the libretto and see this piece as a nature poem – descriptive of whatever landscape or mindscape moves them most.
Percy Grainger is a rare personality. He wrote a vast amount of music that is little played these days. I am not a fan of his, yet I do appreciate that he was probably a wayward genius. And a few of his works do have the capacity to move me: most I find entertaining. The majority of listeners will know his ubiquitous Country Gardens which was arranged for just about every instrumental combination possible. Yet Shepherd’s Hey and the Immovable Do presented here deserve greater popularity. The latter piece was inspired by a leaking harmonium which continually sounded a ‘high C’ throughout the performance of whatever Grainger was playing. Shepherd’s Hey is based on the folk tune ‘The Keel Row’. Incidentally, the score was dedicated to Edvard Grieg. Both miniatures are worthy additions to the repertoire and would make excellent encores - if given the chance.
Our musical exploration moves back to Ireland. This time it is the second movement of Sir Hamilton Harty’s fine Irish Symphony – subtitled The Fair-Day. Most people will associate Harty with the Hallé Orchestra which he conducted between 1920 and 1933. Yet he was also an accomplished composer who wrote not only the present work but a wonderful piano concerto, a violin concerto and a number of other excellent pieces. Fortunately, most of these were released on Chandos a number of years ago and are still available. Additionally, Naxos has contributed their recordings of the Symphony and the Piano Concerto. Harty is a composer well worth investigating. The present piece is a fine evocation of a ‘Fair Day’ in Ireland that must have been familiar to the composer as a young man. Look out for the fiddler tuning up and the fine reel!
Everyone knows that Peter Warlock was a pseudonym. His real name was Philip Heseltine. He took the name of Warlock after some involvement with occult mysteries after time spent in Ireland during the Great War. More often noted for his superb songs, Warlock composed a mere handful of works for orchestral forces – including An Old Song, the Serenade for Frederick Delius and the Capriol Suite. Best known in its string orchestra incarnation, this latter work was originally given as a piano duet. Latterly it was arranged for full orchestra – this is the version we hear on this CD. The Suite is based on tunes found in an antique dissertation called ‘Orchesography’ which was supposedly penned by a certain ‘Capriol’. The programme notes inform us that the Suite was rejected by a number of publishers: this is hard to imagine since we now regard the work as one of the minor masterpieces of 20th century music. Apparently Warlock sold the work for a mere 25 guineas!
Lord Berners’ real name is much more impressive – Gerald Hugh Tyrwhitt-Wilson: it sounds as if it were straight out of a P.G. Wodehouse novel. He was an artist and a ballet producer whose day-job appeared to be that of a diplomat. Moving in the rarefied atmosphere of the Sitwells it is not surprising that he was an eccentric. The Triumphs of Neptune was conceived by Sacheverell and eventually became a successful feature for the Ballets Russes. The Hornpipe does not press on to the limits of musical invention, but it is attractive and does justice to its nautical origins. It is well worth discovering other music by this fascinating, if somewhat odd, composer.
Gustav Holst’s St Paul’s Suite surely needs no introduction or recommendation to readers of these pages. Yet sometimes it is easy to forget that this work comes from the same pen as The Planets. The work is conducted here by the composer’s daughter Imogen: to my ear it is one of the best recordings of this work in the repertoire. It is a Suite that must be listened to in its entirety and not excerpted.
The last piece is a major masterpiece. Along with Tippett’s Double Concerto and Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro it is one of the most important essays in string writing in British musical literature. The Tallis Fantasia is a work that seems to gather up the whole tradition of England – its landscape, its literature and its religion. It is impossible to listen to this work without being aware of the whole sweep of history – both musical and otherwise. In one sense it is a timeless work, yet in another it is as much a part of twentieth century music as Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue or Berg’s Violin Concerto. The Fantasia is a visionary score which marked its composer out as a major figure in the British musical scene.
Most cognoscenti of British music will have all these works in their CD collections. This release is a bit of a pot-pourri. Yet consider this. It is good to take the opportunity of listening to a variety of pieces played end to end - now and again; it reminds us of our whole musical heritage. And lastly if you know anyone who is edging towards an appreciation of the native music of the British Isles – this is the present for them. In either case – Buy it!
-- John France, MusicWeb International
COMPLETE DG & ARGO RECORDINGS
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No 2, Rococo Variations, Andante Cantabile / Elschenbroich, Kitayenko
TCHAIKOVSKY Symphony No. 2 in c, “Little Russian.” Variations on a Rococo Theme1. String Quartet No. 1 in D: Andante cantabile • Dmitri Kitaenko, cond; 1Leonard Elschenbroich (vc); Cologne Guerzenich O • OEHMS 669 (SACD: 62:56)
As of early February 2013, here is the status of the four major ongoing Tchaikovsky symphony cycles.
Poppen Reviewed Reviewer Kitaenko Reviewed Reviewer
1 34:3 Dubins 1 36:3 Dubins
2 36:1 Morrison/Bayley 2 36:6 Dubins
3 36:1 Morrison/Bayley 5 35:6 Dubins
4 33:3 Dubins 6 35:1 Morrison
6 35:4 Dubins
Pletnev Reviewed Reviewer Jurowski Reviewed Reviewer
1 35:6 Dubins/Grames 1 33:4 Dubins
2 36:2 Dubins 4 36:4 Dubins
3 36:4 Dubins 5 36:4 Dubins
4 34:6 Pomeroy 6 33:4 Dubins
5 35:3 Rabinowitz
6 35:3 Dubins
Notes:
(1) Thus far, only Pletnev’s cycle is complete. Poppen’s is close, with only the Symphony No. 5 left to go. If a symphony number is absent from one of the above tables, it means that that symphony has not yet appeared as of this writing.
(2) Of the four cycles, two are on SACD—Pletnev’s on PentaTone and Kitaenko’s on Oehms.
(3) One label is competing against itself—the Kitaenko and Poppen cycles are both on Oehms, but only the former is available in SACD format.
(4) For the sake of consistency, I’ve adopted the spelling of Dmitri Kitaenko’s name as it appears in the Fanfare Archive, but the Oehms discs give his name as Kitajenko, and I’ve encountered it elsewhere as Kitayenko.
(5) As is clear from the above tables, the overwhelming majority of these releases have been assigned to me. I’ve enjoyed the assignments because I’m a fan of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies—well, most of them, anyway—but I wish that more of my colleagues could have submitted reviews of these releases as well; for I, and the reader, I’m sure, would be interested to learn if others share or disagree with my conclusions.
For the most part, I’ve favored Pletnev for his dramatically charged readings, for the superb playing of the Russian National Orchestra, and for PentaTone’s exceptionally dynamic recordings. But what I call dramatically charged, others might call volatile and over the top. I’ve also criticized PentaTone for its rather ungenerous fillers.
Between Poppen and Jurowski the only question is which one I prefer less than the other. Both conductors and their respective orchestras—the London Philharmonic for Jurowski and the Southwest German Radio Orchestra for Poppen—have their strong points, among which are solid and secure playing in even-tempered, articulate performances and first-rate recorded sound. But relistening to them in preparation for this review, I found my original conclusions confirmed. There’s nothing exceptional in Poppen or Jurowski’s readings to make them standouts in the crowd. Then too, of the four cycles under discussion, these are the two that are not in SACD. A few years ago that wouldn’t have mattered; the recordings would have been considered state-of-the-art. But Tchaikovsky is one of music’s greatest orchestrators, and the subtleties and myriad details of his orchestration really benefit from well-engineered multichannel recordings.
So, here we are with Kitaenko’s fourth installment in his cycle, Tchaikovsky’s “Little Russian” Symphony, the No. 2. As I’ve had occasion to opine before, it’s a tossup, as far as I’m concerned, as to which is the weakest of the composer’s symphonies, the No. 2 or the No. 3. Kitaenko actually makes a stronger case for No. 2, I believe, than does Pletnev, the only other No. 2 out of the four above cycles I’ve reviewed. Kitaenko’s first movement is slower by only 33 seconds—11:29 vs. 10:56—but that slightly slower tempo gives the performance a feeling of being tighter, more disciplined, and better controlled. Pletnev drives the movement harder, which, in comparison, makes it sound a bit wild-eyed. In Kitaenko’s hands, the remaining three movements are slower too, considerably so in fact, such that his overall timing for the symphony is 36:07 compared to Pletnev’s 31:47. That’s really a significant difference. For the most part, I do think Kitaenko’s slower tempos work to the advantage of this particular score. Tearing through it the way Pletnev does only further trivializes its already subpar inspiration.
Here comes the hard choice. Complementing the symphony on Kitaenko’s disc is Tchaikovsky’s Variations on a Rococo Theme, welcome for its brilliant performance by young, London-based cellist Leonard Elschenbroich who plays the magnificent “Leonard Rose” cello made by Venetian luthier, Matteo Goffriller. Unfortunately, Elschenbroich chooses to perform the defiled Wilhelm Fitzenhagen version of the score, as so many cellists do. In a nutshell, Tchaikovsky entrusted Fitzenhagen, a professor at the Moscow Conservatory, to edit and fine-tune the cello part. In the composer’s absence, the emboldened professor performed a sorcerer’s apprentice repair job on the vehicle, connecting the windshield wipers to the exhaust pipe. When the sorcerer returned from abroad, he was so shocked and disgusted by what Fitzenhagen had done that he washed his hands of the whole thing, exclaiming, “Let the devil take it; let it stay as it is.” And for the most part it has.
Beyond the minor changes to dynamics and phrasing, Fitzenhagen reduced the number of variations from eight to seven and moved the third variation, along with the cadenza that precedes it and the Allegro that follows it, to the very end of the work. This resulted in two variations of similar character being juxtaposed, a problem Fitzenhagen solved by removing the last variation and tacking its closing paragraphs on to the concluding Allegro vivace. What possessed him to do all of this is not clear, but Tchaikovsky’s exasperated “let it stay as it is” has been taken by many, if not most, modern cellists as license for performing Fitzenhagen’s hatchet job. If you would like to hear the piece the way Tchaikovsky originally wrote it, I can recommend Julian Lloyd Webber’s Philips recording with the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Maxim Shostakovich.
The thing is that Elschenbroich’s performance of the work on this disc is really outstanding, which, in part, is what makes the choice between this new Kitaenko release and Pletnev’s a difficult one, for Pletnev offers as a filler for his Tchaikovsky Second the composer’s original first movement to the symphony, which the composer majorly revised a number of years later. The revised version is the standard form in which the symphony is performed today, so it’s instructive to be able to hear Tchaikovsky’s original thoughts.
The current Oehms album concludes with a souped-up version of the famous Andante cantabile movement from Tchaikovsky’s D-Major String quartet in what sounds like an arrangement for solo cello and string orchestra. My guess is that Elschenbroich plays the cello part while the orchestra’s strings play the violin and viola parts, but the cellist is placed so far forward and is so dominant that for much of the time it’s hard to tell what the strings are playing, or if they’re playing at all.
Decisions, decisions. I prefer Kitaenko’s way with the Second Symphony to Pletnev’s, and I’m very impressed by Elschenbroich’s Rococo Variations, though I wish he’d have opted for Tchaikovsky’s original version. On the other hand, Pletnev’s inclusion of the Second Symphony’s original first movement is a valuable addition to his disc. As for the respective orchestras and recordings, both make an equally visceral impact. I suppose the only advice I can offer you is to acquire them both. FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Liszt: Works For Piano & Orchestra / Lortie
Fantasia on a Theme from Beethoven's Ruins of Athens, Grande Fantasie symphonique on Themes from Berlioz's Lelio
These are exuberant performances, overflowing with arch character and impish brio. Lortie doesn't merely phrase responsively; he deftly teases and articulates, so that even routine passage-work lifts into scintillant repartee, wittily met by Pehiavanian and The Hague Residentie Orchestra. For salient instance, this is the first time I've heard the young Liszt's hilariously slapdash, formally sprawling Lelio Fantasy actually . . . fantasticated. Leslie Howard's fine, sympathetic go at it with Karl Anton Rickenbacher and the Budapest Symphony (Hyperion CDA67401/2, 22:5), to take perhaps the most challenging comparison, seems literal and earnest after this nuance-rife take, couching coruscating roguery in feathery exquisiteness. Nor do Howard's broader tempos—timing in at 29:44 against Lortie's fleet 24:06—help to put this overlong jeu across. Chez Lortie and Pehiavanian, on the other hand, it is no longer a mere curiosity but a grandly empurpled Byronic narrative. Similar comparisons could be drawn piece by piece, but suffice it to say that in brilliant contrast to the workmanlike note-spinning that too often overtakes such ambitious intégrales, these artists approach music-making as a form of merrymaking, animating everything with irresistible verve. Sound is transparently immediate in a spacious aural frame. Enthusiastically recommended.
Adrian Corleonis, Fanfare [9/2000]
Piano Concertos
Volume 3 triumphantly concludes Louis Lortie's Chandos cycle of Liszt's works for piano and orchestra. Once again his mastery is as fluent as it is scintillating. Less heartstopping or intense than his finest rivals in the two concertos (Richter and Zimerman, and Argerich in No 1 only) his occasional distance lends enchantment, and his aristocratic brilliance brings a special distinction to pages inviting heaviness and theatricality. Listen to him unbending winsomely at 1.24" in the First Concerto or tossing aside the Allegro vivace with an almost winged bravura, and at 045" in the cadenza from the Second Concerto he shows a poetry and inwardness rarely achieved in such overt showpieces.
He does all that is humanly possible with the Third Concerto, which received its premiere in 1990, yet even he, alive to moments of authentic Lisztian rhetoric, can do little to erase one's sense of music in urgent need of revision. Likewise the Concerto Pathetique, judiciously arranged from a variety of sources, storms and rants with the sort of self-conscious drama that often came too easily to Liszt; never more so than in the allguns-blazing Allegro trionfante conclusion. But again, the performance is exemplary, the recordings of demonstration quality with a sensible rather than spectacular balance, and George Pehlivanian and The Hague Residentie Orchestra prove themselves admirable partners, even when they are hardly maestoso at the start of the First Concerto. Altogether this has been a most distinguished series.
-- Bryce Morrison, Gramophone [5/2002]