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Hovhaness: Symphonies No 7, 14, 23 / Brion, Trinity College Wind Orchestra
Naxos · May 2010CD$19.99 -
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Leshnoff: Violin Concerto no. 1, String Quartet no. 1 / Wetherbee, Carpe Diem Quartet
Naxos · Feb 2009CD$19.99 -
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Wuorinen: Music Of Two Decades Vol 3 / Miller, Fine Arts Quartet
Music and Arts Programs of America · Aug 2013CD$19.99 -
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SaleMonteverdi: 7th Book of Madrigals / Alessandrini, Concerto Italiano
Naïve · Jan 2023CD$21.99$10.99 -
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Adolf Busch Plays Bach And Beethoven In Wartime New York
Music and Arts Programs of America · May 2006CD$18.99 -
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American Classics - Sousa: Music For Wind Band Vol 7 / Royal Artillery Band
Naxos · Dec 2008CD$19.99 -
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Shostakovich: Symphonies No 1, 2 & 3 / Wigglesworth, Netherlands Radio Philharmonic
BIS · Apr 2012SACD$21.99
BEETHOVEN: THE 9 SYMPHONIES
Beethoven was Wilhelm Furtwängler's guiding musical force. In his interpretations of the symphonies, the conductor generates irresistible dramatic momentum - and a constant sense of imaginative freshness - through the interrelationship of form, harmony, texture, rhythm and tempo. These recordings, all made in the late 1940s and early 1950s, in the Musikverein in Vienna and at concerts in London, Bayreuth and Stockholm, have been remastered in 192kHz/24-bit at Art & Son Studio (in 2021 for the 7 recordings included in The Complete Wilhelm Furtwängler on Records and newly for this edition for the 3 other ones), bringing their sound more alive than ever before and for the first time here on a physical medium.
As a bonus the 5th Symphony live performance from 1950 in Copenhagen restored in HD from an excellent condition analogue source has been added.
Itzhak Perlman: Complete RCA & Columbia Album Collection
In celebration of the great Israeli-American violinist’s 75th birthday, Sony Classical is proud to present the first-ever collection of Itzhak Perlman’s complete recordings for RCA and CBS/Sony in a single box set: 18 CDs spanning the years 1965 to 2012.
Itzhak Perlman has dominated the world of violin virtuosos for half a century. His TV appearances had already made him a household name in the US by the time he was 13. A few years later came his Carnegie Hall debut, then the prestigious Leventritt Award, followed by triumphant tours of Israel, North America and Europe between 1965 and 1968. By then he was an international celebrity and recognized “not just as the finest violinist of his generation but as one of the greatest musical talents to emerge since World War II” (leading string authority Tully Potter writing in the NEW GROVE).
And it was then that Perlman began his illustrious, virtually unparalleled career as a recording artist. His first sessions for RCA, accompanied by pianist David Garvey – with works ranging from sonatas by Handel, Leclair and Hindemith to showpieces by Paganini, Bazzini, Sarasate and Falla – took place in New York in 1965 but were not issued for nearly 40 years because the label felt concertos would make a more suitable commercial debut for the rising star. When an album of these pieces was finally released – as “Perlman Rediscovered”, in 2004 – it was hailed “an outstanding tribute to one of the great names among violinists of any age, as well as a remarkably varied and interesting recital in its own right” (ClassicsToday). These tracks are, of course, included in the new collection.
Perlman’s first concerto efforts for RCA – the Tchaikovsky, Sibelius and Prokofiev Second, with Leinsdorf and the Boston Symphony – were set down in 1966/1967 and released the following years as his recording debut. ClassicsToday acclaimed them in a recent reissue as “offering playing that is gutsy and shamelessly virtuosic, and with a sharper rhythmic focus than Perlman often achieved subsequently. The finale of the Sibelius remains a potent example of the playing’s youthful fire.” In 1969, Perlman recorded what was arguably one of the finest albums of his career, the two Prokofiev Sonatas (which he never remade), partnered by pianist Vladimir Ashkenazy at the beginning of their long and distinguished collaboration: “Delicate where needs be … and yet with a Heifetzian resilience that both sonatas willingly respond to … Perlman and Ashkenazy play with astonishing virtuosity” (Gramophone).
Itzhak Perlman’s work for American Columbia began in the mid-1970s and – apart from Bach and Vivaldi multi-violin concertos with Isaac Stern, Pinchas Zukerman and the New York Philharmonic under Zubin Mehta – cover a wide swath of chamber music with special partners: pianists Daniel Barenboim and Emanuel Ax, cellists Yo-Yo Ma and Lynn Harrell and guitarist John Williams. The Mendelssohn Piano Trios with Ax and Ma, first released in 2010, appear here for the first time in a Perlman collection (“…ensemble balance, clarity of inner part-writing, drama, lyricism, and phrase shaping of the highest order … I find these performances not just outstanding; I find them astounding” (Fanfare).
That other John Williams, the legendary composer for the silver screen, was Perlman’s collaborator in another medium, the movies: his two best-selling “Cinema Serenade” albums arranged and conducted by Williams, with Perlman featured in selections from such classic films as Modern Times, Gone with the Wind, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Out of Africa, Cinema Paradiso, The Color Purple and, of course, the theme that Perlman memorably performed on the soundtrack of Williams’s Oscar-winning score for the Spielberg masterpiece Schindler’s List.
New to Perlman CD editions are two complete soundtrack albums: John Williams’s “elegant and thoughtful score” for Memoirs of a Geisha in which the violinist is joined by Yo-Yo Ma and to which Perlman “brings a magical and peculiarly oriental sound to his violin-playing” (Gramophone), and the music for Yimou Zhang’s Hero by Tan Dun: “Few composers today write more effective melodies for bowed strings” (Gramophone). And to round off this uniquely wide-ranging survey of the violinist’s musical passions and triumphs, in its first appearance in a Perlman collection, the artist is joined by golden-voiced cantor Yitzchak Meir Helfgot in Eternal Echoes, a highly praised album of liturgical and traditional selections which the violinist has affectionately described as “Jewish comfort music – everything that I recognize from my childhood is in this program.”
SET CONTENTS
DISC 1:
Prokofiev: Violin Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 63
Sibelius: Violin Concerto in D Minor, Op. 47
DISC 2:
Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 35, TH 59
Dvořák: Romance in F Minor, Op. 11, B. 39
DISC 3:
Prokofiev: Violin Sonata No. 1 in F Minor, Op. 80
Prokofiev: Violin Sonata in D Major No. 2, Op. 94bis
DISC 4:
Lalo: Symphonie espagnole, Op. 21
Ravel: Tzigane, M. 76 (Version for Violin & Orchestra)
DISC 5:
Paganini: Centone di sonate, Op. 64, MS 112 (Sonata No. 1 in A Minor)
Paganini: Sonata for Violin and Guitar in E Minor, Op. 3, No. 6, MS 27
Paganini: Sonata concertata in A Major, Op. 61, MS 2
Giuliani: Duo concertante in E Minor, Op. 25 "Grand Sonata"
Giuliani: Cantabile in D Major, Op. 17, MS 109
DISC 6:
Dohnányi: Serenade in C Major, Op. 10
Beethoven: Serenade in D Major, Op. 8
DISC 7:
Bach, J.S.: Concerto for 2 Violins in D Minor, BWV 1043
Vivaldi: Concerto for 3 Violins in F Major, RV 551
Mozart: Sinfonia Concertante in E-Flat Major, K. 364
DISC 8:
Chausson: Concerto for Violin, Piano and String Quartet in D Major, Op. 21
DISC 9:
Brahms: Violin Sonata No. 1 in G Major, Op. 78
Brahms: Violin Sonata No. 2 in A Major, Op. 100
Brahms: Violin Sonata No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 108
DISC 10:
Mozart: Duo for Violin & Viola in G Major, K. 423
Mozart: Duo for Violin and Viola, K. 424
Leclair: 6 Sonatas for 2 Violins, Op. 3, No. 4
DISC 11:
Lubbock/Rosenbaum/Jones/Temperton: The Color Purple: Main Title
Gardel: Scent of a Woman: Tango (Por Una Cabeza)
Legrand: Yentl: Papa, Can You Hear Me?
Bacalov: Il Postino: Theme
Bernstein: The Age of Innocence: Theme
Williams: Theme (From "Far and Away")
Legrand: The Umbrellas of Cherbourg: I Will Wait for You
Previn: Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse: Theme
Williams: Sabrina: Theme
Barry: Out of Africa: Main Title
Bonfa: Black Orpheus: Manha de Carnaval
Williams: Main Theme (From "Schindler's List")
Morricone: Love Theme (From "Cinema Paradiso")
DISC 12:
Raksin: Theme from "Laura" (1944)
Steiner: Theme from Now, Voyager (1942)
Chaplin: Smile from "Modern Times" (1936)
Rózsa: Love Theme from Lost Weekend (1945)
Young: St. Patrick's Day from The Quiet Man (1952) (Traditional)
Korngold: Marian & Robin Love Theme from "The Adventures of Robin Hood" (1938)
Hupfeld: As Time Goes By from "Casablanca" (1942)
Walton: Touch Her Soft Lips and Part (From "Henry V")
Young: Stella by Starlight from The Uninvited (1944)
Young: Theme from My Foolish Heart (1949)
Steiner: Tara's Theme (From "Gone with the Wind" 1939)
Newman: Cathy's Theme from "Wuthering Heights" (1939)
DISC 13:
Tan Dun: Works
DISC 14:
Paganini: 24 Caprices for Solo Violin, Op. 1, MS 25
Ben-Haim: Berceuse Sfaradite
Sarasate: Navarra, Op. 33
Handel: Violin Sonata in E Major, Op. 1 No. 15, HWV 373
Hindemith: Violin Sonata, Op. 11 No. 1 in E-Flat
Leclair: Violin Sonata, Op. 9 No. 3 in D
Bloch: Baal Shem: II. Nigun (Version for Violin & Piano)
Falla: Spanish Dance No. 1 (from La vida breve)
Bazzini: La ronde des lutins, Op. 25
DISC 15: John Williams: Works
DISC 16:
Mendelssohn: Piano Trio No. 1 in D Minor, Op. 49
Mendelssohn: Piano Trio No. 2 in C Minor Op. 66
Mendelssohn: Songs without Words, Op. 19, No. 1 Sweet Remembrance" - Andante con moto"
Mendelssohn: Songs without Words, Op. 38, No. 2 - Allegro non troppo
DISC 17:
Berditchever: A Dudele
Shenker: Mizmor L'Dovid
Goldfaden: Shoyfer Shel Moshiakh
Schwartz: Romanian Doyne
Rosenblatt: T'filas Tal
Traditional: Yism'chu
Schloßberg: R'tzay
Traditional: Dem Trisker Rebns Khosid
Schorr: Sheyibone Bays Hamikdosh
Traditional: Kol Nidrei
DISC 18:
Tchaikovsky: Sérénade mélancolique, Op. 26, TH 56
Tchaikovsky: Valse-Scherzo, Op. 34, TH 58
Dvořák: Romance in F Minor, Op. 11, B. 39
Dvořák: 8 Humoresques, Op. 101, B. 187: No. 7, Poco lento e grazioso (Transcribed by Oscar Morawetz for Violin, Cello & Orchestra)
Dvořák: Piano Trio No. 4 in E Minor, Op. 90, B. 166: "Dumky", V. Allegro
Dvořák: Slavonic Dances, Op. 72, B. 147: No. 2, Dumka. Allegretto grazioso
Halvorsen: Passacaglia and Sarabande for Violin and Viola (With Variations on a Theme by Handel)
Walton: Canzonetta from Henry V
Williams: Air and Simple Gifts
Nielsen: Cantatas / Holten, Knudsen, Andersen, Hedergaard
NIELSEN-BANGERT Cantata for the Opening Ceremony of the National Exhibition in Aarhus NIELSEN Music for Hans Hartvig Seedorf Pedersen’s Homage to Holberg. Helge Rode’s Prologue to Shakespeare: Ariel’s Song. 1 Cantata for the Annual University Commemoration • Bo Holten, cond; Ditte Højgaard Andersen (sop); Mathias Hedergaard (ten); 1 Palle Knudsen (bar); Jens Albinus (nar); Aarhus Cathedral Ch; Danish Natl Op Ch; Aarhus SO • DACAPO 8.226079 (65:52 Text and Translation)
Cantatas by Carl Nielsen? Yes! Surprised? So was I, and I’m sure you’ll be too. One reason they aren’t known is that they were composed for specific celebratory functions whose initial presentation was interrupted by speeches, cheering, polka bands, more speeches, and lots of drinking. Not exactly an atmosphere conducive to great art. Add to that the fact that Nielsen didn’t want to compose some of them, had to work with an over-verbose librettist in one (and assigned half the composition duties to one of his pupils, Emilius Bangert), and carried on a running argument with the committee that commissioned it over the libretto of another, and you can well imagine that these aren’t among the composer’s best works.
Of course, this doesn’t mean that they’re bad pageant music—certainly not as bad as Beethoven’s Wellington’s Victory, which the composer practically laughed at until it turned out to be a really popular money-maker—but the music is only occasionally interesting because the texts are only occasionally interesting. In the first cantata, the Nielsen-Bangert collaboration written in 1909, the most interesting piece by far is No. 4, the one that the two composers split pretty much down the middle (Nielsen wrote the first 117 bars, Bangert the rest). Bangert’s other contributions, Nos. 2, 3, and 7, are by no means “bad” music—the older composer supervised his pupil’s compositions and possibly made suggestions—but they lack character and originality. It’s the age-old battle between craft and art.
The second cantata on this album is in fact the last one composed, in 1923. This is mature Nielsen, and since he had a strong affinity for Holberg anyway, having set his text for the opera Maskerade to music almost 20 years earlier, his heart was really in it. The beginning is not promising—it starts with a pompous brass fanfare in the same vein, and even the same key, that ended the last piece of the previous cantata—but it soon develops into interesting music. Nielsen himself said, “It is … a shame that this music is only for this particular occasion, but it is constructed in such a fashion that it can be performed repeatedly and in other circumstances [emphasis mine].” The first movement features a quartet of Muses; here, soprano Andersen is joined by soprano Eline Denice Risager and mezzos Birgitte Mosegaard Pedersen and Bolette Bruno Hansen. The second soprano and mezzo are not terribly good, but they get by. The second movement features a baritone solo; the third is purely choral.
This is followed by one excerpt, a tenor solo, from a cantata celebrating the tercentennial of Shakespeare’s death (1916). It is so isolated because it was published and performed separately after the event, primarily by Danish tenor Anders Brems. It’s a very nice piece that, unfortunately, is sung by Hedergaard with unsteady tone.
The Cantata for the Annual University Commemoration , written in 1908, is the only one of Nielsen’s cantatas written for a recurring occasion. It is one of the most thoughtfully composed, and most cantata-like in alternating sung recitatives accompanied by piano with full choral-orchestral passages. Again, ignoring the text, this is music that could be performed to other texts for other occasions. There is an unusual touch of harmonic darkness to the music of the second number, where Nielsen also cleverly integrated the piano used in the recitative into the orchestral fabric; during the second recitative, the piano’s role expands into almost song-cycle-like accompaniment. This is a truly inspired bit of writing. Toward the end of the movement, the piano’s role changes again, accompanying four horns in concerto fashion before the chorus returns, then remaining as a prominent instrument along with the full strings. A slow tempo, muted violins, and ostinato bass create a mysterious mood in No. 3.
What amazed me the most about these works, particularly the last two, which are pretty good and original music, is the fact that in each case Nielsen was forced to work on a short deadline, barely more than two or three weeks. His lack of interest in the Aarhus cantata undoubtedly led to his creating the shallowest music. As to the performances, they are absolutely first-rate except for the aforementioned unsteadiness of tenor Hedergaard and two of the lady Muses. Andersen has a very light-toned, pretty Bach-Mozart-type soprano voice. Although baritone Knudsen also shows some signs of unsteadiness, he is generally very good. Diction is crystal-clear. Both the Aarhus Choir and Orchestra and the Danish National Opera Chorus are rock-solid, transparent in texture, and firmly committed to giving the best performances they can. Conductor Holten walks a fine line between creating excitement commensurate to the occasions in question and delivering excellent, well-contoured performances, and he succeeds handsomely in this task. And, happily, the sonics are crystal-clear, no muddiness of sound. If you can ignore the bombast of the first cantata, then, this is a worthy addition to your Nielsen collection.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Hovhaness: Symphonies No 7, 14, 23 / Brion, Trinity College Wind Orchestra
An hour’s worth of Hovhaness in ‘wind band plus percussion symphonic garb’ is the raison d’être of this Naxos release. It bears all his most obvious hallmarks, sometimes starkly: vistas, intense tattoos, hieratic brass, convulsive dialogues, chimes, noble perorations, edifices of almost Mayan splendour.
The Seventh Symphony dates from 1959. The purity of its rhythmic percussion tattoos and the hieratic nature of its brass calls give one an idea of the processional intensity of its dramaturgy. The loquacity of his wind writing implies a raft of interior monologues. The writing becomes more concentrated in the central movement where Hovhaness ensures themes are less fragmentary and by the finale things have turned positively Olympian. The percussion is now subservient to the to the brass calls, themselves more legato and ushering in a sunset glow, and a cooling, reflective consonance.
The following year he wrote Ararat, Symphony No.14. It makes much of ‘dragon fly’ sonorities, bright trumpets and glittering percussion once again but adds a further percussive layer via bell chimes and a buzzy series of terraced sonorities – dramatic, florid, and ground shaking in the central movement. The percussion starts up immediately in the finale but is gradually worn down by the sheer pugilistic insistence of the conquering brass.
The final symphony of the three is written on a much broader canvas than these two quarter of an hour works. But it too is a powerful construction, its chattering winds and terse declamation capturing the ear with great trenchancy. Drunken lowering lower brass add a leering patina as well, as do the aero engine and gamelan evocations. The finale is a wonderful example of nobility and processional tread with repeated figures passed from brass to wind adding a layer of sonic depth. We feel as if some vast castle is being evoked, as the brass calls resound from battlement to crenellation; Gormenghast in music.
Keith Brion has a long track-record with Hovhaness and he directs his forces with great vitality and precision. This splendid disc has been excellently engineered and admirers of the composer need not hesitate.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
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These three symphonies for wind orchestra treat some recurring themes in Alan Hovhaness' work: mountains (Symphonies Nos. 7 and 14) and his Armenian heritage (Symphony No. 23, evocative of the medieval city of Ani, "The City of A Thousand and One Cathedrals"). The later work is by far the most substantial, but all of them constitute worthy additions to the repertoire for winds and percussion. They are very well played here by the Trinity College ensemble under Keith Brion, who has lived with this music for many decades. Perhaps the English horn soloist in "Sunset", the last movement of Symphony No. 7, is a touch "quacky", but this and any other criticisms would be mere quibbles. The brass play with confidence and the sort of imposing serenity that Hovhaness so often requires, while the drums, bells, and tam-tam punctuate the texture atmospherically. Sonics are very fine, and the entire production is dedicated touchingly to the memory of Lady Evelyn Barbirolli (d. 2008), who some readers may recall was a noted oboist in her day. Recommended to fans of the composer, and of good music for concert band.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Suonate per violino e violone o cimbalo, Op. 7, Vol. 2
Schubert: Symphonies Nos. 8 "Unfinished" & 9 "The Great"
With regard to the universally esteemed Symphony No. 8 Unfinished its history continues to be a matter of much debate. Schubert authority Nikolaus Harnoncourt recognises the symphony was intended as a four movement score although he is convinced there must have been a point when Schubert decided the two completed movements were perfect on their own. In the first movement Allegro moderato chief conductor Philippe Jordan ushers the listener into Schubert’s enthralling and dramatic sound-world with a reading that maintains a remarkable inner tension. Marked in the Andante con moto is the bitter-sweet quality of drama and breathtaking allure that Jordan imparts. The woodwind playing is top drawer.
Harnoncourt firmly believes that the ‘Great’ C Major is “a colossal edifice in which Schubert remakes the symphony … anyone who has experienced this masterpiece is no longer the same as before.” Schubert’s final symphony is a work the composer described in his personal letters as “a grand symphony.” Here maestro Jordan gives a disarming reading that in turn combines magnificent drama and deep compassion. It is hard to ignore the Beethovenian/Wagnerian influence on the opening horn calls. The resolute playing of the expansive opening movement is tinged with a dark hue. Jordan excels in the Andante con moto maintaining an exemplary pulse throughout. I savour the encounter between the primarily pastoral quality of the fresh outdoors and the dramatic squally extremes. The dignified march theme on the oboe is a highlight. The spirited dance melodies of the Scherzo receive polished playing and resolute bite. Jordan exercises judicious control of the bold and courageous Finale: Allegro Vivace a movement full of colourful incident that feels both compelling and expressive.
Despite its excellence this Wiener Symphoniker coupling has to compete with a wealth of rival accounts. My first choice recording for the Unfinished is from the Berliner Philharmoniker under Günter Wand: raptly beautiful playing engages the listener from start to finish. Wand was recorded live in 1995 from the Philharmonie, Berlin on RCA Victor Red Seal. My single standout recording of the ‘Great’ C Major is from Claudio Abbado with the Orchestra Mozart assembled at live concerts in 2011 at Bologna Auditorium Manzoni and Bolzano Auditorium, Italy. Recently released Abbado’s captivating DG account with a wealth of orchestral detail is quite superbly played and recorded.
On the other hand it may be more sensible to buy a complete set of the Schubert symphonies. Although the competition is extremely fierce I can suggest four recommendable boxes. My first choice is conducted by Karl Böhm and the Berliner Philharmoniker recorded in 1963/71 in the exceptional acoustic of Jesus-Christus-Kirche, Berlin. As a Schubert conductor Böhm has few peers. He conducts typically warm and polished performances on Deutsche Grammophon. On Decca there is an excellently played and recorded set from István Kertész and the Wiener Philharmoniker recorded in 1963/71 at the Sofiensaal, Vienna.
There is a quite outstanding set from the Berliner Philharmoniker under Harnoncourt recorded live in 2003/06 at Philharmonie, Berlin on the orchestra’s own label. Harnoncourt has made lengthy and serious study of Schubert’s manuscripts removing the unauthentic revisions that have become part and parcel of the scores. From start to finish the well prepared Berliner Philharmoniker plays magnificently with a sense of spontaneity that carries the listener along on an enthralling journey. Rather under the radar but well worth investigating is the impressive 2013 release conducted by Lorin Maazel with the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks. All the symphonies were recorded live by them in 2001 at the Prinzregententheater, Munich and after a decade have finally been issued on BR-Klassik.
Returning to this Wiener Symphoniker release, the recording engineers can be congratulated for a satisfying sound quality that is especially clear and well balanced. Jordan draws expressive yet firmly controlled playing from his Vienna orchestra. The tempi, rhythm, phrasing and dynamics are shaped into one impressive whole. This is an engaging CD that will grace any serious collection.
- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International
Mahler: Symphony No.7 (LP)
HERE COMES THE SUN
Bax: Symphonies 1 & 7 / Fredman, Leppard, LPO
Anguished harmonies seem more prevalent in Symphony No. 7, although some glittering moments bring contrast. The longer paragraphs carry with them a certain grandeur that is most affecting, a certain quiet nobility that inspires some sort of awe. The Lento (with a Piu mosso section marked, ‘In Legendary Mood’) is rather beautiful, although perhaps it is a trifle over-long (it begins to sprawl rather here). The ending is touchingly tender, though.
The finale begins with a nod to Britten in its open-air exuberance, and later features some brass writing that would not have disgraced Walton’s Crown Imperial. The close is certainly grand (although do I detect a hint of bombast?), and the noble, long-breathed string melodies are here even more effective because of Lyrita’s superb, warm recording. Of course we are in competition with Chandos’s Bryden Thomson and Vernon Handley, two conductors whose qualifications in this repertoire are fully acknowledged, not to mention David Lloyd Jones’s Bax recordings for Naxos. Yet Leppard’s instincts are accurate and always convincing.
This is a valuable disc, not least because it puts two substantive works by Bax side-by-side. Both performances do the scores justice and the recording is, as usual from this source, exemplary.
-- Colin Clarke, MusicWeb International
Great Haydn Symphonies - No 6, 45, 48, Etc / Fischer, Et Al
There are two ways to obtain the complete Haydn symphonies: a third set on Sony, conducted by Dennis Russell Davies seems no longer to be generally available in the UK, even as a download.
One was made some time ago by Antal Doráti with the Philharmonia Hungarica (Decca 448 5312, 33 CDs). From this set only the Paris Symphonies seem currently to be separately available (Decca E473 8102) and, at prices ranging from around £165 to £195 – even more, £352.15, for the download from hmvdigital.com – buying the whole thing may be something of a daunting proposition. Even as a download, only that Paris set, two Double Decca sets of the London Symphonies and a Decca Eloquence recording of Nos. 94, 100 and 101 remain available separately. These are fine performances of which I can speak from personal experience, having owned several of them on LP; I still have and regularly play some of the smaller CD sets from the series which were once available.
There is, however, a far less expensive way to obtain the symphonies complete, from the Austro-Hungarian Haydn Orchestra under Adam Fischer; the whole set comes on just 8 CDs in mp3 format (NI1722) and can be purchased from MusicWeb International for £23.00 post free. The discs can be played directly from any CD, SACD or blu-ray player which offers mp3 playback, but it’s better to drop and drag the files onto a computer hard drive and play them from there.
Dominy Clements in recommending the set went so far as to include graphic print-outs of the same segment of Symphony No.1 from the normal CD and the mp3 version, demonstrating not only that they sound identical but that there is objective evidence to support the point.
The selection listed above comes from that complete set and, although I don’t have access to that mp3 edition on disc, I’ve been listening to some of the symphonies in mp3 sound from the Naxos Music Library and I’m blessed if I can hear any difference between the versions on CD and the mp3 equivalents.
I’ve reviewed the classicsonline.com downloads of Symphonies Nos.1-20 – July 2012/2 Download Roundup – and Symphonies 21-39 and ‘107’-‘108’ (also known as ‘A’ and ‘B’) – July 2009 Download Roundup. Though I could hardly recommend the downloads when they are more expensive (£39.95) than their physical equivalents on 5 CDs (NI5426-30 and NI5683-7 respectively, £23.00 each post free from MusicWeb International), I was able to confirm the high quality of the mp3 sound. So if you are looking for a complete set of the Haydn symphonies that mp3 set, NI1722, looks to me like the best. If, however, you would like to ease yourself into this wonderful music gradually, the ‘Great Haydn Symphonies’ pair of CDs, obtainable from MusicWeb International for £12 post paid, would be an excellent way to dip your toe into the water.
By no means all the Haydn symphonies with a nickname received their nomenclature from Haydn himself, and by no means all of them are accurate. In this case, however, the set of six nicknamed works provides a very useful peg on which to hang a 2-CD set of works from all periods of Haydn’s long productive life. Not only that, but these are six of my own favourites among the composer’s huge symphonic output.
No.6 comes from the earliest period of his tenure with the Esterházy family. It’s one of a series of three linked works, depicting Morning, Noon and Evening, though it stands well enough on its own. Early it may be, but Haydn never really had a period when his music didn’t sound fully accomplished and its appeal is enhanced by the excellent performance which it receives.
Symphony No.45 is the most famous of the Sturm und Drang symphonies from Haydn’s middle period, around 1770. The name Sturm und Drang or storm and stress refers properly to the pre-romantic literature of the period, notably to a series of works by Goethe and Schiller. The story behind the last movement, with the musicians leaving one by one as a hint to their employer that they needed a break, is well known but that doesn’t diminish the power of the music; it remains unhackneyed no matter how many times I must have heard it. Perhaps the performance here doesn’t quite match the power of a Vanguard recording with Antonio Janigro at the helm, which used to be available, but it comes pretty close.
No.48 also comes from the Sturm und Drang period. Its nickname refers to the belief formerly held that it was composed specially for a visit from the empress, Maria Theresa. For some reason she always seems to develop an spurious extra ‘i’ in the name of this symphony, perhaps by false association with the German name Mariatheresien-symphonie. As with No.45, it’s easy to see why the symphonies of this period came to be linked with the literature of the period. My only reservation about Fischer’s performance of this symphony may sound irrational, but the modern horns hit their notes just slightly too comfortably in comparison with period-instrument performances.
It’s not that I didn’t enjoy Fischer’s account of this work, but compare the period-instrument performance from Roy Goodman and the Hanover Band on an inexpensive Hyperion recording (Helios CDH55119, with Nos. 49 and 50, £6.99 or less; £5.99 for mp3 or lossless download: see March 2012/2 Download Roundup) and the extra adventure involved in hitting the right notes adds an extra touch of zest to the performance, as does the inclusion of a just-audible harpsichord. Any one of the budget-price discs from this series might make a useful addition to the Nimbus ‘Great Symphonies’ set; it’s a series that was never quite completed, though it contains recordings from all periods of Haydn’s symphonic output.
If you’ve fallen for the appeal of Haydn in Sturm und Drang mode, Nimbus offer another 2-CD set of Nos. 43, 44, 49, 52, 59 and 64 (here).
Symphony No.82 moves us on several years to Haydn’s visit to Paris in 1785/7. Fischer’s performances of the six symphonies from this period are available on a pair of Nimbus CDs (NI5419-20 - £16.00 post free from MusicWeb International here). The only reservation that I have about recommending the ‘Great Symphonies’ set is that you may well fall for the charms of No.82 and want the whole set. If you doubt the validity of the ‘bear’ nickname for this symphony, Fischer’s growly finale makes it seem thoroughly appropriate, even though it isn’t one of Haydn’s own devising. Here again, only a preference for a period-instrument performance such as Harnoncourt’s Deutsche Harmonia Mundi 3-CD set (82876606022, all repeats observed) or Roy Goodman’s on Hyperion (Nos. 82-4, CDH55123) would be reason to look elsewhere – I’m happy with either approach.
The Oxford Symphony was performed at Haydn’s award of an honorary doctorate by the university, so the title has some validity even though in the end he failed to compose the new work he had intended for the occasion and substituted one that was already well known in England. Simon Rattle’s account of this and other symphonies from the period between the Paris visit and Haydn’s first to London has received critical praise (Nos.88-92 and Sinfonia Concertante, EMI 3942372: Recording of the Month, but I find it too heavy by comparison with the best period performances. You don’t need period instruments, however, to make the symphonies of this period sound well, as Eugen Jochum demonstrated in his BPO recordings of Nos. 88 and 98 and his later LPO set of the ‘London’ Symphonies and as Fischer demonstrates in his version of the Oxford. This is modern-instrument Haydn without the ‘big band’ effect that I find from Rattle and I found it an excellent complement to Roy Goodman’s period-band on Hyperion Helios CDH55125.
The nicknames of Haydn’s symphonies don’t always translate from one language to another. In German No. 94 is known as the Drum Stroke Symphony (mit dem Paukenschlag), so easily confused with what is known in English as the Drum Roll Symphony, No.103. The English nickname, Surprise, like the German, refers to the loud stroke in the slow movement, designed to wake the ladies. I first got to know this symphony from Beecham’s early-1950s Columbia (CBS) performance, once available on the Philips Classical Favourites label – no longer available but his later 1950s remake, still in mono, is on the first of two EMI Gemini 2-CD sets: details below. If Fischer and his team don’t quite recapture the magic of that version – could anyone? – I can’t think of any better recent version.
Hungarian orchestras and conductors seem to have a particularly strong rapport with Haydn – surely it can’t just be due to the fact that he composed for the Esterházy family whose palaces spanned what is now the international border. There used to be several CDs of his music on the Hungaroton White Label which, if reissued at budget price, would still be well worth considering. David Blum recorded several of the symphonies with the Esterházy Orchestra for Vanguard which, like those Hungarotons, I still listen to with pleasure. Intermittently available on CD, there’s a very strong case for the latter especially to be reissued. Despite their Eastern European name, the Esterházy Orchestra are American. Still available, however, and of genuine Hungarian provenance, are the successful recordings which Naxos has made of Haydn symphonies with the Nicolaus Esterházy Sinfonia and Béla Drahos.
Good as all these are, the Austro-Hungarian Orchestra, drawn from top-flight Austrian and Hungarian players, is best of all. These recordings were made over a period of seven years, during which time the orchestra had three Konzertmeister, or leaders: Rainer Küchl, Erich Binder and Wolfgang Redik. The quality of performance over that period is remarkably consistent.
I’m not suggesting that these are perfect – even if such a thing were possible. I would have liked a little more generosity in the matter of first movement repeats, for example. Without necessarily wishing for every repeat to be observed, as Harnoncourt does in his most recent recording of the Paris Symphonies for Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, I do feel that there’s imbalance in Fischer’s No.82 – Doráti’s, too, for that matter – where the first and second movements are almost exactly the same length and the finale is shorter than either. Goodman strikes a neat compromise by observing the first-movement repeats but not those in the finale (Hyperion Helios CDH55123, with Nos.83 and 84).
Just occasionally, too, I felt that some of Fischer’s ritardandi were slightly artificial, but that’s only if one judges them against those of Thomas Beecham, who somehow manages to make everything he does seem thoroughly natural and Haydnesque, even though he clung to outdated editions which he knew to be erroneous when better texts were already available. See the review of his EMI recordings of the London Symphonies – Bargain of the Month – and my November 2011/1 Download Roundup. Beulah have reissued Beecham’s Symphonies Nos. 101 and 103 – see April 2012/1 Download Roundup.
The recordings are excellent throughout. Even the two earliest here, of Nos. 45 and 94 from 1988, are not at all bad but the later recordings sound even better. With short but valuable notes this inexpensive set is a strong contender.
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Leshnoff: Violin Concerto no. 1, String Quartet no. 1 / Wetherbee, Carpe Diem Quartet
REVIEWS:
Leshnoff might compose his music for anyone who wants to listen, but it seems to me that the inattentive listener will be cheated out of most of its pleasures. Indeed, it wasn’t until I sat down and really listened to this CD on my home stereo that I realized how fine this music is. It asks the listener to devote time and attention to it; there’s no pandering here, but I think it still is accessible to anyone who is sufficiently open-minded enough to enjoy Hindemith, Bartók, or late Stravinsky, for example. (Surely that’s not too much to ask!)
The Violin Concerto could well be a significant addition to the instrument’s repertoire. Five movements are indicated, but because there is no pause between the first and second movements, and none between the fourth and fifth, and also because there is a tempo change in the fourth, the work’s structure is more complicated than the CD’s track listing indicates. The concerto opens with a figure not unlike Westminster chimes, and because it reappears several times throughout the concerto, it serves as a kind of guidepost. The opening Allegro drives forward with purpose, and is serious but not grim. There is much to interest the ears, not least in the orchestration, which is consistently imaginative. The solo writing is idiomatic, as if Leshnoff composed it for himself. At 7:57, the second movement (Slow) is the concerto’s longest, and it is here that we are introduced to Leshnoff’s more lyrical side. Again, orchestral colors are deployed with an artist’s sensitivity, and the musical argument is well considered and involving, with an emotional intensity suggesting that the composer, in spite of his age, is something of an old soul. If Samuel Barber had lived longer, he might have written music not unlike this. The central Scherzo lightens the mood—for a time—without disturbing the concerto’s emotional trajectory. Prokofiev comes to mind. Leshnoff uses the orchestra masterfully, avoiding both cliché and novelty for novelty’s sake. The fourth movement (Slow–Fast) returns to the mood of the second, but it is more unsettled, and soon becomes agitated. A crisis is reached, and then resolved—but only partly—in the closing Elegy, which again is reminiscent of Barber. The music stops before one expects it to, giving the concerto an open-ended feeling. Although he didn’t write a programmatic work, one of Leshnoff’s inspirations was a story told by a Holocaust survivor. During forced labor, SS guards would make prisoners sing Nazi propaganda songs, but the prisoners would insert their prayers into these songs. In light of this story, one can better understand why the concerto ends as it does.
Distant Reflections is scored for solo violin, piano, and strings, with an offstage string quartet. This might be thought of as Leshnoff’s response to Vaughan Williams’s Tallis Fantasia , except here Leshnoff uses fragments from a Mass by Ockeghem. As in the concerto (but without sounding like it), a very refined ear is at work (in terms of both color and form), and Distant Reflections is at once sensual and serious. Without talking down to listeners or gimmickry, Leshnoff indeed has succeeded in writing new music that could appeal to many.
Pearl German is the wife of Jeremiah German, “a college professor with an abiding love of music,” according to Naxos’s booklet notes. The String Quartet No. 1 was a commission in honor of German’s wife, on the occasion of her 80th birthday. The four movements, beginning with “Winter,” are named after the four seasons. Again, this is not a programmatic work—there are no Vivaldian stamping feet or barking dogs. Instead, Leshnoff seems to be aiming at a more metaphysical reflection on the cycles of life. Ending the work with “Autumn” allows Leshnoff yet another downbeat ending, which he seems to like and does well. In terms of both timbre and emotions, this quartet is refined, eschewing that which is obvious or easy. As in the other two works, his writing is concise; Leshnoff is not a composer who goes on talking after he has nothing more to say.
These performances, all supervised by the composer, make an excellent case for the music. Wetherbee is a first-class violinist, whether he is a soloist or within the very able Carpe Diem String Quartet, whose other members are Wendy Morton, Korine Fujiwara, and Robert Firdman. The Baltimore Chamber Orchestra, founded in the 1980s, plays with polish under the direction of Markand Thakar, and with evident appreciation for Leshnoff’s ideas. There are some weird and annoying sonic artifacts, only noticeable during pauses and very quiet sections in the recording of the String Quartet; it sounds as if another ensemble were playing in a studio two doors down. Otherwise, Naxos’s recording is excellent.
Labels like to push their hot new composers, and after a while, one gets skeptical over this or that so-called discovery. Leshnoff, however, is excitingly “the real thing,” and I expect we’ll be hearing a lot more from and about him in years to come.
-- Fanfare
JACQUET FILES VOLUME 7
Wuorinen: Music Of Two Decades Vol 3 / Miller, Fine Arts Quartet
It's a lot easier to tell you what the electronic piece, Time's Encomium, isn't: it isn't imitative of nature or acoustic musical instruments. If the point seems inappropriate or trivial, I remind the reader that a great deal of synthesized sound appears to exist for these kitsch aspirations. So then, while Times's Encomium in this narrow regard falls on the ear as abstraction pure but far from simple, I urge the reader not to conflate abstract with offputting. The piece abounds with playful energies. When disparate sounds interact as friskily as they do here, play of one kind or another, whether or not one knows the game's name, is obviously the thing, Wuorinen is the kind of cerebral practitioner who requires one's attention in a state of openness. We do not hear Time's Encomium transpiring toward a direction. The logic is rather that of extraordinary fireflies of various heft, hue, and gravitas. As anyone who's spent a country night outdoors, a lightshow's enjoyment need not connect with those forces that stage it. The listener is content (if he's wise) to perceive the co.nposer as firefly or, better yet, the firefly's First Mover. Wuorinen composed the work between 1968-69 at the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center In New York.“ . . . The RCA synthesizer . . . is prejudiced by design toward 12-tone equal temperament . . . [I]f one accepts the limitation as a boundary condition . . . it ceases to be a problem. . . . Afterwards, I made the large-scale structure by processing the synthesized materials in one of the [center's] analog studios. Thus the work consists of a core of synthesized music, most of which appears in Part I, surrounded and interlarded with analog-studio transformations of that music. The synthesized [can be] identified by its clarity of pitch. . . . The processed almost always contains reverberation. Thus metaphorically, the listener stands in the midst of the synthesized music, which presents itself . . . with maximal clarity; and stretching away from him, becoming more and more blurred in detail, the various transformations . . .“ I assume that Wuorinen speaks in “standing] in the midst“ of the four-channel original, which one hears to his regret as a two-channel mixdown. We are back on my Fanfare hobby horse.
In no way strange to say, Wuorinen's Piano Sonata (No. 1, 1969) appears on its surface to share in those compositional impulses and schemata that yielded Time's Encomium. This seems to me especially true of the music's fast-paced, angular energies. Of particular interest is the sonata's performer, the late Robert Black. As others have for David Tudor, Wuorinen composed an obviously difficult work in large measure as a tribute to Black's strengths and sympathies. (Because music absorbs its background, we tend to overlook an executant's sometime part in a work's conception, no less its successful performance—which Black's certainly sounds to be.)
Wuorinen's comments about his here handsomely performed First String Quartet have the ring of a manifesto. “The [quartet of 1971] reflects fundamental concerns . . . with questions of large-scale form, in particular the issue of an appropriate developmental—or 'directed'—structure suited to a non tonal environment. I had already become . . . impatient with [much of new music's directionlessness] and wanted to establish formal procedures that would allow local flexibility while solidly undergirding a musical progress analogous to the very powerfully directed structure of tonality [my italics].“ Wuorinen then gives a summary of his solution, which need not detain us here. Enough to know what was then on the mind that remains aloof from a world, in too large part, of half-baked juvenalia. The String Quartet (No. 1) plays vis-à-vis the electronic and solo-piano work a tad richer in lyrical interest, in acknowledgement perhaps of a four-string ensemble's native soulfulness. The insert mentions an earlier Music & Arts CD of this Wuorinen quartet, with one of Milton Babbitt's, as an inferior transfer. While I haven't that disc to compare, the present digitization of an analog master sounds very good indeed. Again, the three volumes of this Wuorinen edition—there are no immediate plans for a fourth—address a need. All three volumes heartily recommended.
-- Mike Silverton, FANFARE [3/1997]
Mahler: Symphony No. 7
Buxtehude: Vocal Music, Vol 2 / Reuter, Munk, Et Al
The four cantatas give us the chance to hear Buxtehude employing a variety of strategies.
Das neugeborne Kindelein sets the four verses of a Christmas hymn first published in 1588 by Cyriacus Schneegass (1546-1597), German hymn-writer, composer and music theorist. The words have a simple radiance, each of the four stanzas made up of four lines rhymed aabb. Buxtehude treats them interestingly; he adopts different approaches for each of the four stanzas. In the first he sets the opening three lines, the initial announcement of the recurrent ‘new’ birth of Christ and its significance, relatively plainly, allowing the words to dominate and hold the attention. Then, as if to celebrate the significance of the words of proclamation, the final line of Schneegass’s first stanza is richly elaborated through repetition and contrapuntal echo. Between each stanza we get an instrumental ritornello and after its first return, the second stanza offers yet more vocal elaboration and responds beautifully to the text’s assertion that the angels are singing in the sky, a response heightened by a greater use of instrumental accompaniment interwoven with the vocal phrases than was allowed to happen in the first stanza. The third stanza speaks of the battle against “Teufel, Welt und Höllenpfort” and the sense of conflict is heightened by much greater use of instrumental interjections which break up the vocal phrases and the lines of the verse. In the fourth stanza, as the text grows to a full realisation that the birth of “das Jesuslein” guarantees the possibility of human salvation, the musical metre changes and the instruments and voices work more obviously together, so that verse, voice and instruments embody, in their new relationship, the transformation into coherent meaning of which the hymn speaks. Buxtehude, in short, has integrated text, singers and instrumental ensemble with a completeness of achieved purpose that makes Das neugeborne Kindelein a minor masterpiece.
In Der Herr ist mit mir the text is taken from the Psalms (Psalm 118 verses 6-7). In the Authorized Version it reads thus: “The Lord is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me. The Lord taketh my part with them that help me: therefore shall I see my desire upon them that hate me”. To the German translation of these verses is added a concluding ‘Hallelujah’. Buxtehude sets the Psalm text in predominantly homophonic fashion, the text remaining clearly and emphatically audible, its meaning emphasised by some patterned rhythmic and harmonic touches. With the ‘Hallelujah’ Buxtehude launches into a virtuoso ciacona made up of nineteen variations over two-bar ostinato bass. The contrast with what has gone before is startling and exciting.
The most dramatically expressive work here is Fürwahr, er trug unsere Krankheit, setting verses from Isaiah prophetic of the crucifixion. There is some powerful instrumental writing and Buxtehude’s music articulates a powerful response to the idea of the Passion; the writing, both for the bass soloist and for the chorus, as well as for the sections of the chorus, is consistently intense and moving. The response to the imagery of Christ’s wounds and “stripes” is especially poignant. Fürwahr, er trug unsere Krankheit is a fine piece, full of sustained melodies and aching harmonies, and it comes off particularly well in this recording.
Alles, was ihr tut is perhaps the most familiar of these four cantatas. It is an exhortation to ensure that (in the words of the Epistle to the Colossians) “whatsoever ye do in word or deed, [ye] do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the father by him”, as well as a petition that God might assist both individual and community. Buxtehude fruitfully juxtaposes elements of the sacred concerto and the aria, as well as the setting of a chorale text to an already existing melody; homophonic passages and contrapuntal writing are employed by turns; the interplay of instruments and voices is always effective and interesting. In passing phrases – both textual and musical – between soloist and chorus, Buxtehude seems to offer an artistic statement as to the proper relationship between the individual and the community in a Christian society. The whole work breathes an untroubled faith and the continuo work from the Dufay Ensemble is particularly striking here.
The external evidence makes it unlikely that the Magnificat is Buxtehude’s; although one copy of the work was found in the collection of Buxtehude’s friend Gustav Düben, who certainly owned copies of works by Buxtehude, it has to be said that he also owned works by other composers too; other surviving copies of this setting come from areas of Europe where Buxtehude is not known to have had any connections. Nor, indeed, does it really sound like Buxtehude; it lacks the subtlety and inventiveness of Buxtehude at anything like his best. It is pleasant but undistinguished and is perhaps best attributed to that old favourite ‘Anon’.
These are not perfect performances. The closing ‘Hallelujah’ of Der Herr ist mit mir hasn’t quite the brilliance and lightness of touch that the music deserves; Johan Reuter’s bass, though tonally very apt and attractive, isn’t quite as expressive as one might wish; just now and then, by the highest standards, the voices of one or two of the choir’s soloists sound overtaxed. On the other hand, the Choir as a whole sings beautifully, their work tonally lovely, their diction exemplary. The performances are certainly plenty good enough to give the hearer a pretty good idea of just how fine this music is.
-- Glyn Pursglove, MusicWeb International
Monteverdi: 7th Book of Madrigals / Alessandrini, Concerto Italiano
With this recording of Book VII of Claudio Monteverdi’s madrigals (1619, Venice), Rinaldo Alessandrini and his Concerto Italiano devote themselves to a love theme with a very pastoral edge the composer particularly savored. The Italian harpsichordist and conductor once again offers us a collection of Monteverdi madrigals of the highest quality, in which the poems not only lead the singing, but also determine the arrangement of the madrigals by poet. Inspired by “the hitherto unpublished stamp of a literary intention” indicated by the composer at the start of the collection, Rinaldo Alessandrini and his ensemble, accustomed to enlightening dramatics, offer a sparkling polyphony varying from one to six voices, in a wide range of pitches.
REVIEWS:
Claudio Monteverdi’s Seventh Book of Madrigals have been recorded well by several early music groups, but one expects superior readings from harpsichordist Rinaldo Alessandrini and his vocal-instrumental ensemble Concerto Italiano, and indeed, one gets them here. He presents the madrigals not in the order in which they were published, instead grouping the texted pieces by poet. This points to the stylistic features an audience of Monteverdi’s time would have been interested in, and Alessandrini supports these features with readings that differentiate the pieces sharply from one another. This is an ideal recording of music by the later Monteverdi.
-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)
This is Book 7, but not as you know it. A must-read booklet essay by Alessandrini himself frames the new recording as a philosophical and dramatic undertaking rather than an exercise in completism. This is opera without the stage – a riveting and incredibly stylish account of this vast and varied book of music.
-- Gramophone
Vivaldi - Gods Emperors & Angels
VIVALDI Concertos for Various Instruments: RV 86 1 , 163, 271 2 , 312 3 , 445 4 , 482 5 , 500 6 , 526 7 , 530 8 ) • Adrian Chandler, dir 2,7,8 (vn); Pamela Thorby 1,3,4 (rcr); 1,5,6 Peter Whelan (bn); 7,8 Sara Deborah Struntz (vn); La Serenissima (period instruments) • AVIE AV 2201 (72:01)
One of the underlying motifs of this program seems to be Bohemia, which Vivaldi visited in 1730 and where he probably acquired the paper on which some of these concertos are written. This mixed program opens with what must be one of his briefest concertos, RV 163, in B?. Though under four minutes, and with no special solo instrument, it encompasses many of Vivaldi’s salient characteristics: a strong opening theme, a fine melody, and rhythmic surprise. This brief piece is called “Conca,” for reasons Adrian Chandler connects with a Bohemian use of the conch shell to ward off impending storm. The only storm in front of us here, however, is the pleasurable swirl of Vivaldi’s invention.
In 1727–28, Vivaldi wrote two sets of string concertos, both, in the end, called La Cetra (the lyre). One set was published in Amsterdam in 1727 as op. 9 and may have originally been intended for the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles VI, to whom, on a visit to Trieste in 1728, however, he personally gave a manuscript of a set of new concertos. Vivaldi may have been looking for a job, and the emperor was certainly interested, but nothing happened because the emperor died and Vivaldi, having moved to Vienna without a patron, died in poor straits. The ensemble plays one concerto from the published set (RV 530) and two from the manuscript (RV 526 and 271, of which the former had to be reconstructed by Chandler).
The remaining four concertos on this disc use bassoon and recorder for the concerted part. Two of these, however, are single-movement fragments (RV 482 and 312, the latter reconstructed by Chandler). There is also a “sonata” for recorder and bassoon (RV 86).
Numbering 19, La Serenissima is a fairly large band, as early instrumental ensembles go. This gives a pleasant and most-welcome heft to its sound. The soloists are all good and it would be invidious to single out one of them. This is Vivaldi at his most vivacious, but don’t overlook the rightly named “amorous” concerto (RV 271) from the 1728 manuscript with which the program ends. Anyone looking for an introduction to Vivaldi’s instrumental pieces other than The Four Seasons would do well to start here.
FANFARE: Alan Swanson
Jones: Symphonies No 4, 7, 8 / Groves, Thomson, Et Al
JONES Symphonies: No. 4, “In memory of Dylan Thomas” ; No. 7; No. 8 1 • Charles Groves, cond; Bryden Thomson, cond; 1 Royal PO; BBC Welsh SO 1 • LYRITA 329 (78:05)
Welsh composer Daniel Jones (1912–1993) was born in Pembroke and raised in Swansea, where he forged a friendship with the poet Dylan Thomas. After study in Swansea, Jones moved to London’s Royal Academy of Music. His output included concertos for violin, oboe, and cello; choral music, including the Oratorio, St. Peter ; an opera, The Knife ; chamber music; and 13 symphonies. Jones’s musical language is essentially tonal. He originated a rhythmic method for heightened expression—a device that he called “complex meters” involving maintaining and often juxtaposing, complex and often-irregular time signatures over a long timespan. Musically, Jones was influenced by Purcell, Haydn, and Janá?ek, but his language is personal. His symphonies can be broadly divided into three groups: Symphonies Nos. 1–5 (1944–58), conceived within the late-Romantic symphonic tradition and scored for large forces; Symphonies Nos. 6–9 (1964–72) moving towards greater structural experimentation, unusual combinations of instruments, and shorter lengths; and Symphonies Nos. 10–13 (1976–92) concerned with concision and paring down germ ideas to the barest essentials.
Daniel Jones’s Fourth Symphony, considered to be one of the composer’s finest achievements, was composed in memory of the poet Dylan Thomas, who had died, tragically young, in New York on November 17, 1953. Their relationship had been close; they had shared a zest for life. It was Jones who had written the folk-like music for Under Milk Wood. The Symphony is, understandably, elegiac; the opening Maestoso movement speaks bleakly of tragedy and loss, with a sometimes funeral-march tread, but also of defiance. The central Allegro capriccioso scampers along; it is light-hearted and capricious. Its playfulness might suggest the larger-than-life characters from Under Milk Wood , and perhaps the real-life antics of composer and poet, while its slower, sadder, middle section is more reflective, sometimes darkly so; it has a vulnerability, a sadness—and regret? The final Adagio-moderato-adagio is turbulent and disturbing; the music’s violence seemingly released reluctantly in a brief coda that highlights a solo violin with pizzicato cellos and basses.
The Seventh Symphony is cast in five movements, although the fourth and fifth share the same track. Completed in 1972 and dedicated to Sir Charles Groves, it was written as a commission from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. The work has an unsettling ambiguity, the music often lurking in dark corners and having many abrupt contradictions. The most immediately appealing material is in the quicksilver Scherzando that employs a xylophone to heighten its puckish, tipsy fun, but even here tragedy stalks. The Eighth Symphony has five movements too. The music is enigmatic and ferocious, lyrical and searching, and not without a sardonic wit. Its extraordinary, arresting opening chords are sounded on marimba. Imaginative orchestrations abound: the often-spectral third movement has some amazing interchanges between piano and vibraphone; the elegiac fourth movement includes harmonic passages for kettledrums under heartfelt music for strings, muted trumpets, and softly played trombones; and the high-spirited finale sounds triumphant trumpets and tubular bells.
Strong performances of some quite original music. A rewarding disc for the adventurous.
FANFARE: Ian Lace
Adolf Busch Plays Bach And Beethoven In Wartime New York
Adolf Busch had been one of the highly celebrated violinists and greatly admired exponents of the Beethoven concerto in Europe before WWII, but had never recorded it prior to his emigration to the U.S. in 1939. After a period of relative neglect, he was invited by American Columbia to record the work in 1942, but the outcome was not a success. Critic Tully Potter tells the story in his linernotes: "On 7 and 8 February [1942] the Busch brothers ... collaborated with the Philharmonic-Symphony, in the Beethoven Concerto, Adolf airing a new set of cadenzas written the previous year. ...the Saturday-evening interpretation gained mixed notices, the best being very good, the worst very bad; and perhaps the violinist was not at his best. Two critics indicated that he seemed nervous--hardly surprising, when it was his first performance for years of a work he had been accustomed to play almost every week. He was certainly in excellent form on the Sunday afternoon: the CBS network broadcast was taken down by at least two home recordists and one of those documents is here released for the first time. It makes an admirable corrective to the official Columbia recording, made next day at Liederkranz Hall. Unfortunately the production was delegated to the talented but inexperienced Goddard Lieberson. Busch was palpably under strain in the opening movement, his nervousness exacerbated by Lieberson's insisting he stand on a raised platform, which made him feel remote from his brother and the orchestra and brought him too close to the microphone. The resulting poor balance caused him to reject the recording and it was not issued until after his death. The live performance is everything one might expect." The fillers include a Bach concerto (in a minor) never commercially recorded by Busch.
Shostakovich: Symphony No. 7 / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony
Dmitri Shostakovich was one of the most important composers of the 20th century. With his works - most notably his fifteen symphonies, which took Late Romantic music and transferred it to the modern age – he has shaped the repertoire. His aesthetic is determined by the impact of the Second World War and also by the political conditions in the Soviet Union under Stalin. Forced to work for the dictator, he also had to make numerous concessions to him. It was in the war year of 1941 that Shostakovich composed his Symphony No. 7 in C major, opus 60. It comes in the approximate middle of his oeuvre and was named the “Leningrad” symphony because Shostakovich dedicated it to his native city (today’s St. Petersburg). The marching theme in the first movement was composed even before the outbreak of the German-Soviet war, in around 1939 or 1940. He wrote further movements in Leningrad, during its siege by German troops from September 8, 1941 onwards, and finally completed the symphony in Kuibyshev (Samara) on the Volga, having been evacuated from the war-torn city together with his family on October 1, 1941. It was there on March 5, 1942 that the symphony received its world premiere, performed by the similarly evacuated orchestra of Moscow’s Bolshoi Theatre under the direction of Samuil Samossud. The Moscow premiere on March 27 took place in perilous circumstances, but even an air raid alert could not convince the audience to go to the shelters, so captivated were they by the music. The music has retained its fascination to this day, and the Seventh Symphony is considered Shostakovich's best-known work. Mariss Jansons, who himself ranks as a specialist in the Slavic repertoire as well as the symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries, has tackled this masterpiece on numerous occasions. This performance, released for the first time, was recorded at concerts on February 11 and 12, 2016 at the Philharmonie in Munich’s Gasteig. Here, under Jansons' baton, the musicians of the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks interpret Shostakovich's Seventh Symphony as a shattering testimony to the epoch in which it was written as well as a profound expression of our present age. The live recording of those concerts is now being released by BR-KLASSIK in an exemplary interpretation of one of the most important symphonic works of the 20th century.
Bruckner from the Archives, Vol. 5
American Classics - Sousa: Music For Wind Band Vol 7 / Royal Artillery Band
SOUSA Music for Wind Band, Vol. 7 • Keith Brion, cond; Martin Hinton (cnt); 1 Royal Artillery Band • NAXOS 8.559247 (57: 26)
America First. The Presidential Polonaise. The Rifle Regiment. Congress Hall. El capitan. Intaglio Waltzes. Golden Jubilee. The Bride Elect. Sounds from the Revivals. 1 The Charlatan. Sheridan’s Ride. The Black Horse Troop. The Naval Reserve
Keith Brion, one of the foremost authorities on the music of Sousa, has been building an extensive library of Sousa’s music for Naxos since 1998, beginning with the first release (“On Stage,” Fanfare 22:1), which first appeared on marco polo in 1997. This is planned to be the most comprehensive collection of Sousa assembled, currently consisting of these seven volumes of wind band music, in addition to an earlier three volumes of Sousa for orchestra. In terms of wind music alone, Brion has so far released 86 works: marches, suites, waltzes, and novelty numbers. The current largest collection is by the Detroit Concert Band, which recorded all 116 published marches on five CDs (Walking Frog 300). The U.S. Marine Band’s set of four CDs, available as “A Box of Sousa” on Altissimo 5571, has 56 works. In terms of performances, the Marine Band is probably my favorite, with the Naxos set a very close second. Both compare favorably with the best single-disc releases, including Junkin with the Dallas Wind Symphony (Reference Recordings 94), Fennell with the Eastman Wind Ensemble (Mercury 434300), Foley with the American Main Street Band (EMI 54130), and Keith Brion with his own New Sousa Band (Delos 102 or Walking Frog 217), which includes seven restorations of recordings conducted by Sousa himself. The relative completeness of the Detroit release recommends it, but the performances often lapse into the routine. Besides, the Naxos set will eventually include 20 additional marches and dozens of concert works.
This seventh volume is as good a place to start as any, as it continues the series pattern of presenting a satisfying mix of the familiar ( El capitan and The Black Horse Troop ) and the unfamiliar ( Congress Hall and The Naval Reserve ), of marches derived from Sousa’s stage works ( El capitan , again, The Bride Elect and The Charlatan ), of Strauss-inspired waltzes ( Intaglio Waltzes ), of historical scenarios à la Wellington’s Victory , complete with battle sounds, racing horse hooves, and cheering ( Sheridan’s Ride ), and novelty numbers like Sounds from the Revivals , an arrangement of late-19th-century hymns which may have been written for Offenbach’s orchestra when they appeared at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition.
James Camner has reviewed three of the earlier releases in the series for Fanfare : Vol. 2, 25:5, Vol. 3, 27:3, and Vol. 4, 28:1. In each he has pointed out the essential rightness of Brion’s performances. I concur. They are not so fast as to make them overbearing or cheaply exciting, but rather taken at a comfortable march tempo that allows the music to unfold naturally. The Royal Artillery Band, formed before the American colonies declared independence, plays with style and verve. Those who have learned their Sousa with (or in) larger concert bands may initially be surprised by the somewhat smaller sound of this ensemble, but in fact, this is the instrumentation that Sousa used in his own touring band. Sousa-lovers will want the whole series. The uncertain risk little, at Naxos’s bargain prices, by diving in here.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
Sondrebo: Cantica Sacra
Shostakovich: Symphonies No 1, 2 & 3 / Wigglesworth, Netherlands Radio Philharmonic
Gripping performances, reported in superb sound.
Mark Wigglesworth’s Shostakovich symphony cycle has been quite a long time in the making – over ten years, in fact – but it’s now nearly complete. I believe the Fifteenth is still to be recorded but this issue should be the penultimate release. We’ve reviewed most of the previous releases – the Fourteenth, one of the earlier releases (BIS-CD-1173) does not seem to have come our way – and each has attracted generally favourable comments. A full set of links to earlier reviews appears at the foot of this review. So far I’ve only heard a couple of the issues in this series, Symphonies Four and Eight.
Over the years when my colleague Dan Morgan and I have listened to the same recordings – including those which he’s reviewed but I haven’t – I found that generally our views have coincided quite a lot. Recently, however, unbeknownst to each other, we wrote simultaneous reviews of Vasily Petrenko’s disc of Shostakovich’s Second and Fifteenth symphonies and found ourselves taking quite different stances. I know that Dan has written admiringly of this latest Wigglesworth issue in its download format so I was intrigued to receive the CD version, though I’ve taken care not to read Dan’s review while preparing my own appraisal. The divergence of opinion over the aforementioned Petrenko release led to some interesting comments on the Message Board so it seemed to me that the arrival of this Wigglesworth CD would be a good opportunity to revisit Petrenko’s accounts of all three symphonies.
One problem for me in approaching this disc is that I’ve never thought very highly of either the Second or Third symphonies and that was reflected in my comments on Petrenko’s recording of the Third and, subsequently, of the Second. Would Mark Wigglesworth make me change my mind? To some extent he has made me more favourably disposed towards the Third though I’m afraid the Second still remains a closed book to me.
Irrespective of any issues about interpretation, I think there are two reasons why Wigglesworth is to be preferred over Petrenko in the Second and Third symphonies. One is that, as we shall see, though the sound on the Naxos discs is pretty good the BIS sound is even better. The other is that Wigglesworth has a clear advantage in using the professional voices of the Netherlands Radio Choir. Petrenko’s Liverpool choir, an amateur body, makes a good showing but the Dutch choir has more punch and their sound is better focused – I’m sure it helps that the choir is smaller than the Liverpool chorus. Naxos does enjoy one advantage, however, which may seem small but which, actually, is quite important: the sung texts are printed in transliterated form whereas BIS offer only the Cyrillic text and an English translation and as most collectors won’t read or speak Russian it’s easier to follow in the Naxos booklet what’s being sung.
The BIS booklet notes are by Mark Wigglesworth himself and he writes insightfully about the music. I was struck by a comment he makes about the First Symphony and the influence of Petrushka and, indirectly, perhaps of Pierrot Lunaire that “the disconcerting idea of human beings as puppets, with their actions manipulated by unseen string-pullers from on high, was one that stayed with the composer right the way through to his final symphony, written almost fifty years later.” In the second movement Wigglesworth’s tempo for the fast music seems very fleet but, in fact, when I compared Petrenko there’s not much to choose between them. In the third movement, however, there is quite a difference: Wigglesworth’s basic pulse is fleeter than Petrenko’s – he takes about a minute less to play the movement – but I don’t think he loses anything thereby in terms of intensity or power; quite the reverse, in fact. This may well be an instance where less means more. In passing, it’s interesting to note that in his much-admired complete cycle Rudolf Barshai is quicker than either of these younger conductors, taking just 7:43. Wigglesworth is excellent in the transition from the third movement to the fourth, bringing out the dark power in the music to perfection. The playing of the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra is razor sharp throughout the whole performance and the recording – to which I listened in conventional CD format – is stunning in its immediacy; as an example, listen to the pivotal timpani solo in the finale (track 4, 6:00). I still think the Petrenko performance is a very good one but I think Wigglesworth is even better, digging deeper.
The dynamic range of the BIS recording is such that if one plays the Second Symphony at a level that will be comfortable in the strident passages then the opening is all but inaudible, even when listening through headphones. In fact it’s only after some two minutes have passed that one can really discern what’s happening. That’s not intended as a criticism of BIS, by the way; that’s surely what Shostakovich intended and all credit to Wigglesworth and his orchestra for playing so softly. The RLPO’s playing for Petrenko, while extremely quiet, is not so hushed. BIS splits the symphony into four tracks – on Naxos there are three. Wigglesworth, having started so softly, maintains the mysterious atmosphere very successfully throughout the first section. I start to “lose the plot” with this work when we get to the Meno mosso section (track 7); much of this passage sounds simply chaotic and I can’t shake off the feeling that it’s all sound and fury signifying – well, what does it signify? Wigglesworth scores over Petrenko in having what sounds like a proper siren at the opening of the choral section – and during it; Petrenko uses the option to have the sound played by unison brass instruments. As mentioned above, the Dutch choir has more punch and body to their singing than their Liverpool rivals, valiant though the Merseysiders are.
In his note on the Third Symphony Mark Wigglesworth makes some interesting and important points. He observes that, though the symphony also concludes with a choral setting of a suitably revolutionary text it was not, unlike the Second, an official commission. In other words, the decision to write this work was Shostakovich’s and he himself selected the text that he set at the end. What does this tell us? Well Wigglesworth notes that by now Stalin was in power and, indeed, one of the composer’s own friends – the dedicatee of the First Symphony – had been liquidated. So perhaps Shostakovich was showing himself to be “on message”. However, the poem that he set in the Third Symphony is one that celebrates the revolutionary struggle of the workers rather than revolution and a leader such as Lenin – let alone Stalin – so perhaps, suggests Wigglesworth, Shostakovich is lauding the concept of proletarian revolution rather than the way it had been implemented – and perverted.
Wigglesworth’s recording is divided into seven tracks. He does the opening of this continuous, one-movement work (track 9) very well and after the surface innocence of that section there’s tremendous drive and purpose to the music that follows (tracks 10-11). Here the playing of the Dutch orchestra is very vital. The orchestra also excels in the glacial string episode (track 12) that foreshadows, I think, parts of the Fourth Symphony. Later on the climactic unisons over drum rolls towards the end of track 13 sound very impressive – the BIS recording reports the bass drum thwacks marvellously, so too the baleful tuba solo at the start of track 14. Once again Wigglesworth’s choir makes a splendid showing; I don’t care at all for the music they sing but they deliver the surface excitement with great fervour. This is the most convincing performance of the Third that I’ve heard; even so, I remain sceptical, though slightly less so than before. I note with some interest that Wigglesworth’s overall timing for the symphony is significantly shorter than Petrenko’s; he takes 27:51 against 31:10.
These are gripping performances, reported in superb sound and if you want Shostakovich’s first three symphonies in a package you shouldn’t hesitate. Perhaps it helps that Mark Wigglesworth has recorded these early works almost at the end of his slowly assembled cycle; is he able thereby to refract these scores through his experience of the later works? That must be the case. One question remains: would I have rated Vasily Petrenko’s performances differently had I heard Wigglesworth first? I think the honest answer to that is no. I still think Petrenko’s versions are very good. However, Wigglesworth’s interpretations are presented in superb sound and on balance I think he has the edge interpretatively and in terms of the quality of the singing and playing that he inspires.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
