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Barriere & De Bury: Sonates et suites pour le clavecin / Quintavalle
Brilliant Classics · Apr 2017CD$17.99 -
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Mozart: Piano Concertos Vol 9 / Christian Zacharias, Lausanne Chamber Orchestra
MDG · Aug 2012SACD$24.99 -
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Schubert: Complete Overtures / Christian Benda, Prague Sinfonia
Naxos AudioVisual · Oct 2011Blu-Ray$16.99 -
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SaleMagnard: Cello Sonata; Piano Trio / Patria, Bellario, Trio Mazzena
Brilliant Classics · May 2024CD$13.99$10.99 -
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SaleWitt: Symphony, Flute Concerto / Gallois, Sinfonia Finlandia Jyvaskyla
Naxos · Aug 2010CD$19.99$13.99 -
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Mozart: Piano Sonatas / Wanda Landowska
Wanda Landowska's reputation as a harpsichordist obscures her considerable achievements as a pianist, especially in regard to these extraordinary Mozart recordings, made at her Lakeville, Connecticut home in 1956. The sound is on the dry side, and Landowska's reposeful, intimately scaled readings rarely exceed mezzo-forte. Yet her seemingly infinite gradations of shading and touch, her immaculate control and timing, plus her well-considered and expressive embellishments (try the K. 333 sonata first movement's exposition for a few elaborate surprises) add up to a master class in style from which many of today's historic-minded interpreters can learn and benefit.
A singing impulse consistently governs Landowska's liquid trills, proportioned rubatos, and finely tuned balances between the hands that ensure no dead spots. She arpeggiates chords with the utmost specificity, abetted by a masterful and sophisticated finger legato technique. As a result, she employs the sustain pedal sparingly and tellingly. Although these performances were reissued on CD only by RCA Japan, they now gain a welcome lease on life courtesy of Arkivmusic.com's "on demand" reprint program. Notes are in Japanese only.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Beethoven: The Late Piano Sonatas / Igor Levit
All of the positive attention and high praise that 26-year-old pianist Igor Levit has garnered in Europe is thoroughly justified by his Sony Classical debut release encompassing Beethoven’s last five sonatas. Levit’s affinity for the composer’s essentially linear style and intense expressivity borders on clairvoyance, if you’ll forgive the cliché. You notice this immediately in Op. 101’s first and third movements, where thoughtful voice leading and flexible lyricism mesh into a single entity. Impressive pianistic poise and thoughtful dynamic scaling give clarity and meaning to the Scherzo’s obsessive march rhythms and difficult register leaps as well as to the Fugue’s knotty textures.
Levit takes the “Hammerklavier” first-movement Allegro at a tempo close to the composer’s admittedly optimistic metronome marking, yet the music ebbs and flows with characterful assurance. The Scherzo also takes bracing wing; it features biting cross-rhythmic accents and a ferocious ascending F major scale from bottom to top. You might describe Levit’s masterful Adagio sostenuto as a fusion of Rudolf Serkin’s classical reserve and Claudio Arrau’s depth of tone and vocally oriented inflection. In the finale’s introductory Largo, Levit piles into the jazzy broken-chord accelerando with shattering abandon, and brings plenty of drama, dynamic contrast, and varied articulations to the fugue.
Following Op. 109’s eloquently shaped Vivace, Levit’s well sprung and sharply detailed second movement is one of the few on disc to make Beethoven’s detached and legato phrasings audible to the point where the music sounds faster than it actually is performed. Levit’s heartfelt, beautifully sung out, and assiduously unified third-movement variations easily measure up to the catalog’s finest versions. Op. 110 also stands out for Levit’s brilliant synthesis of personal poetry and scrupulous detail, while Op. 111 matches Mauruzio Pollini’s extraordinary exactitude (the first movement’s driving 16th-note sequences impeccably in place, the Arietta’s dotted rhythms’ spot-on accuracy and inner “swing”) with an extra hint of cantabile warmth. In short, this is Beethoven playing of the highest distinction, not to be missed.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
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This is a notable debut recording. Thanks to Igor Levit’s remarkably even touch and precise rhythmic control, the scores’ details, minutely realized, are fashioned into lucid, structurally sound interpretations. This isn’t a pianist trying to outdo others with speed, volume, or extreme interpretations, but a musician whose tasteful instincts produce Beethoven performances with purity of expression and a certain reserve.
Most striking is the gentle songfulness that Levit brings to lyrical movements, such as the brief Allegretto —an endless melody in four-part texture, singled out by more than a few people, Glenn Gould included, as their favorite movement in all of Beethoven’s sonatas—that opens the 28th Sonata, op. 101. In it, Levit succeeds at creating natural phrase divisions without breaking long lines, something that sounds easy when it’s done this well. (Anyone who has tried to play it knows how extremely difficult this is, and how disjointed the movement can sound.) The Sonata’s technically punishing second movement’s dotted rhythms and rests are perfectly executed at an unrushed tempo, and in the final movement, Levit’s comic timing and articulation rivals the very best versions of the Sonata, such as Richard Goode’s.
A generation ago, one often made allowances in performances of the “Hammerklavier,” except perhaps for Pollini, for broader than ideal tempos in the first movement to accommodate technical difficulties, or moments of stressful scrambling to get through the fugue. Judging by some recent recordings of the work—by the excellent Van Cliburn Competition medalist Sean Chen, Mari Kodama (see Jerry Dubins’s review in Fanfare 37:3), and now Igor Levit—there are clear signs that pianists’ technique in the 21st century has caught up with the Sonata’s demands. Levit’s Apollonian reading is more fluent and less heaven-storming than most. This is a young man’s “Hammerklavier,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if he were to infuse the first and third movements with more drama, through the taking of time, later in his life. He plays the first movement at 132 to the quarter in a tempo that sounds just right—Beethoven’s metronome marking, once considered impossible to realize, is 138— achieving a kind of ecstatic swing whose confident steadiness and occasional lightness doesn’t diminish the music’s profundity. The slow movement, taken exactly at Beethoven’s metronome marking of 92, is gentler than many performances, less grandly soul-searching, but serious and intimate.
In the last three sonatas, I find Levit even better than Paul Lewis, whose well-considered performances sound merely like good piano playing compared to the poised, unearthly effect—I’m thinking here of the final movements of Nos. 30 and 32, in particular—that Levit achieves with his finer technical control. The highlights here are, once again, the lyrical movements, though op. 109’s Presstissimo second movement goes like quicksilver, and op. 110’s Allegro molto is a suitably brusque interruption of the work’s otherwise exalted proceedings. In the final pages of op. 110—the triumphant return of a fugue that has been interrupted and turned around by a grief-stricken lament—I find Levit’s tempo too fast, its fluency too easily achieved. I prefer Mitsuko Uchida’s more measured realization of these tricky tempo relationships.
In the Maestoso introduction to the 32nd Sonata, op. 111, Levit’s strict dotted rhythms reveal the music’s kinship to a French overture and provide continuity, unlike Andrew Rangell’s, whose freer concept of the rhythm bogs the music down. Unlike Barenboim in his 1980s DG recording, Levit doesn’t make the slow Arietta a static dirge. His pacing allows the second movement’s sublime variations to unfold with great logic and inevitability. His interpretation of op. 111 is close to Richter’s (a 1975 performance) in its straightforward pacing, but Levit’s voicing doesn’t have Richter’s laser-like exaggeration of top lines. His right hand comes out as needed in all of these performances, but with an appealingly unforced sonority.
The Richter comparison came to mind as I watched Igor Levit on YouTube, not because the two pianists’ playing is particularly similar, but because of their shared Russian-German background, and Levit’s eclectic, rather austere repertoire choices. Both pianists’ quiet concentration conveys the sense that whatever they’re playing is of life-and-death importance, though the grim, aggressive aura that Richter sometimes projected isn’t part of Levit’s image. Levit’s videos of music by Hindemith, Reger, Beethoven (the Third Concerto), and the Bach-Brahms Chaconne arranged for left hand, show that the intensity and refinement of his Beethoven sonatas is no fluke.
Thanks are due to Sony for taking on a serious young pianist in repertoire of his choice, and providing him with sensitive engineering that showcases his full range of dynamics. There’s every indication that this recording introduces one of the 21st century’s important pianists.
FANFARE: Paul Orgel
Haydn: The Complete Piano Sonatas, Vol. 6 / Bavouzet
"Bavouzet’s Haydn is unmatched in its zest and its wit. But it is also substantial, informed and deeply rewarding."
--The New York Times on Bavouzet's Haydn Sonatas cycle, 2022
The highly acclaimed series of Haydn’s complete piano sonatas with multi-award winning pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet has now reached Volume 6, its halfway point. This set opens with the most imposing of Haydn’s early sonatas, No. 11, and follows it with two lesser-known ones, both from the late 1770s, that were published without the composer’s approval: Nos. 34 and 35. Each of Nos. 36 and 43, the last two featured here, opens a new group of six sonatas, and a new world in Haydn’s compositional style. Future volumes will continue to explore the huge variety of style and expression found in Haydn’s sonatas.
As usual the pianist conveys his personal views in the booklet notes, praising ‘the generally very short phrases typical of Haydn, the abundant touches of humor, the surprises, the embellishments,’ and adding: “The five sonatas in this program are not among the most well known. But what treasures they conceal!...I am delighted to dedicate this disc to Professor Erno Nemecz with whom I have shared a love for Haydn’s music for thirty-five years.”
REVIEW
Six volumes into Jean-Efflam Bavouzet’s tour through the complete Haydn Piano Sonatas, listeners will have a pretty good idea of what to expect...a witty, urbane, slightly French-accented take on repertoire that has long cried out for a contemporary champion. This is Haydn for, and of, a new generation.
Wisely ignoring chronology, each volume is a musical lucky dip, throwing together a diverse grouping of works. Volume Six is built around the spacious Sonata in B Flat Major, No. 11. The more sedate E-flat Major Sonata No. 43 feels, by contrast, rather anonymous, despite Bavouzet’s frisky ornaments. This gives way with calculated shock to the expansive grace of the central Minuet and Trio. Bavouzet makes his slow movements sing in silky tone and legatos, but it’s the livelier, comic movements where he really comes into his own. I defy anyone to listen to the irrepressible final Rondo from the Sonata in A Flat Major No. 35, or the slinky, near-jazz of the C Major Sonata’s first movement Allegro and not find themselves grinning with delight at such irreverent, instinctive musicianship.
--Limelight (Alexandra Coghlan)
Barriere & De Bury: Sonates et suites pour le clavecin / Quintavalle
This set of discs is quite interesting: it brings together two French composers from the first half of the 18th century who are little known. That is to say: Jean-Baptiste Barrière is fairly well known, but almost exclusively as a pioneer of the cello in France. It is remarkable that the two collections which Luca Quintavalle has recorded were published at about the same time, but are stylistically very different.
Barrière was from Bordeaux and worked in Paris in 1730 as Musicien ordinaire de notre Académie Royale de Musique. In 1733 he was granted a privilege to publish sonatas and other instrumental works. He studied for some time in Italy, but there are different opinions on exactly when he was there. It is not that relevant from a musical point of view, because right from the start the Italian influence in his compositions is clearly discernible. His first two books with six sonatas each were printed in Paris in 1733 and 1735 respectively; these were followed in 1739 and 1740 by the third and fourth book. These collections show an increase in technical complexity and the last two books attest to Barrière's full embracing of the Italian style.
In 1739 he also published a book - as Livre V - for the pardessus de viole, the descant viol. It comprises six sonatas, the first five of which were also included in the book of harpsichord music which was published in the same year. These are not merely transcriptions but reworkings for a completely different instrument, including additional ornamentation, elaboration and idiomatic runs. These sonatas follow the Corellian trio sonata model: they comprise four movements in the order slow - fast - slow - fast. Barrière added a sixth sonata in three movements: andante - largetto (sic) - aria amoroso.
Their Italian character not only comes to the fore in the use of the form of the sonata. In fact, Barrière was the first French composer to write sonatas for keyboard. A further Italian trait is that the movements have exclusively Italian titles: adagio, allegro, andante, grave, largo, aria. The only dance included here is a sarabanda in the Sonata No. 2 in D. However, the most important token of Italian influence is the music itself. There are Neapolitan influences, but also references to the music of Vivaldi and Domenico Scarlatti. Some movements are quite dramatic; one of the most notable examples is the adagio which opens the Sonata No. 4 in G.
Barrière's harpsichord sonatas have little to do with tradition. Only one part of the Sonates et pièces can be connected to the French harpsichord school. The six pièces are character pieces as we know them from the oeuvre of, for instance, François Couperin. However, stylistically they are much closer to such pieces by the likes of Forqueray and especially his contemporary Joseph Nicolas Pancrace Royer (1705 - 1755). In the preface to his Premier Livre de pièces pour clavecin of 1746 Royer stated that "[the] pieces are open to great variety, passing from the tender to the lively, from the simple to the tumultuous, often successively within the same piece". That is the case with Barrière's character pieces as well; some indeed can be counted among the 'tumultuous', such as La Casamajor.
It is remarkable that the harpsichord pieces of the younger Bernard de Bury are more conservative than Barrière's. Much more than in the pieces by the latter we notice François Couperin's influence. His Premier livre de pièces de clavecin which dates from around 1736 includes several pieces whose titles are identical or almost identical with titles in the four harpsichord books of Couperin.
Bury came from a musical family; his father was ordinaire de la musique du roi. He spent his entire life and career in Versailles. He took several positions at the court; as maître de chapelle he succeeded his teacher Colin de Blamont, to whom he dedicated his harpsichord book. In 1785 he was ennobled by Louis XVI, five months before his death. In addition to his harpsichord works he composed music for the stage which found a positive reception.
Despite some Italian traits in his harpsichord music - just like in Couperin's ordres - his keyboard music is very French. The book comprises four suites of different lengths which include almost exclusively character pieces. The only exception is the loure in the 3e Suite in G. The chaconne which closes the 4e Suite in E and the entire collection, is one of the most telling tokens of this book's being part of the French tradition: hardly an opera was written without a chaconne and virtually every suite for keyboard or for an instrumental ensemble included a chaconne. There is no watershed between dances and character pieces: several of the latter were written in the form of a dance, or perhaps we should say that dances were given titles to indicate an extra-musical meaning. In the 1e Suite in A, for instance, we find a sarabande with the title Les Regrets. A form which Bury frequently uses is the rondeau, which was becoming increasingly popular in France around the mid-18th century.
Bury's harpsichord works have been recorded before, but are hardly known; they also seldom appear on programmes of recitals. As far as I know only a couple of pieces from Barrière's collection are available on disc; this is probably the first complete recording. I find that rather surprising, considering their quality and their historical importance. That makes this set a significant addition to the discography. This repertoire is served very well by Luca Quintavalle who delivers energetic and stylish performances. The brilliance of Barrières pieces and the different features of Bury's harpsichord works is convincingly conveyed. He plays a splendid instrument: a copy of a harpsichord by Pierre Donzelague of 1711. The miking is just right: it reveals enough details without losing the overall picture.
There is just one issue I need to mention. There is too little space between the pieces: the first movement of a sonata or a suite follows the last movement of the previous work almost attacca. That is an unlucky negligence on the side of the production team.
Considering the importance of the repertoire and the quality of music and interpretation this production deserves the label of Recording of the Month.
– MusicWeb International (Johan van Veen)
Krenek: Early Piano Works / Korzhev
Ernst Krenek’s early musical development was informed by the middle-class cultural ambient of the city of Vienna. Already at an early age he heard his mother playing “salon pieces” on the piano; they attended musical theater performances and the Sunday matinees conducted by Alexander Zemlinsky in the nearby Volksoper. The popular repertoire of operettas, military bands, and cabaret also had a fixed place in the life of the Kreneks.
Ernst Krenek learned a wide spectrum of musical literature from his piano teacher. Together they played four-hand arrangements of operas and symphonies. The works of Richard Wagner and Richard Strauss had a great influence on him, especially the latter, since at that time he was – as the ‘leader of the most radical modernism’ (Krenek, Memoirs) – on the path to world fame. In spite of their merely playful, childish aspirations, his own early attempts at composition can be associated to his biographical world. In terms of style, they are clearly obliged to the musical language of Viennese classicism and romanticism. The titles of these sometimes only partially realized compositions prove to be an interesting mirror of the social reality of the not yet ten-year-old: biblical and sacred motifs dominate alongside references to historical events, above all from the military history of the Habsburg Monarchy. These ambitious works were complemented by smaller marches and waltzes for piano. In his early and mid-teens, a clear development toward vocal settings of German poetry is evident, be it as art songs or choral works. Occasional instrumental works, such as variation works for piano trio, a sonata for cello and piano, or a stage work, are early testimony of the diversity in Krenek’s future oeuvre.
REVIEW:
Collectors who’ve resisted the thorny atonality of Ernst Krenek’s mature piano music will find his earlier works for the instrument, well, tonal and not all that thorny! Think of Max Reger’s short piano pieces or Korngold’s keyboard output, and you’ve basically got the young Krenek.
Listen to the First sonata’s zestful and harmonically restless Rondo finale, for example. I would have mistaken it for an idiomatic piano transcription of one of Richard Strauss’ late-period wind ensemble pieces. The Sonatina No. 2 Gavotte’s modulatory wanderlust makes the Gavotte from Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony sound minimalist by comparison. In the single-movement Sonatina No. 5 and the Six Piano Pieces, Krenek begins to branch out into the terse expressive qualities, angular phrasings, and tonal ambiguity characterizing his later sonatas.
Mikhail Korzhev makes a cogent and convincing case for this repertoire, which comes as no surprise, given his dazzling and authoritative recordings of Krenek’s first three piano concertos. The pianist’s incisive fingerwork vivifies sequences in obsessive dotted rhythms, such as in the Sonatina No. 1’s Vivace finale and the Sonatina No. 3’s Scherzettino, while giving ample attention to bass lines. Korzhev plays up the Sonatina No. 2’s central Theme and Variations sudden mood shifts in a way that never makes them sound episodic or fragmented. He clearly understands and believes in the music, which makes this release an ever more valuable addition to the Krenek discography.
-- ClassicsToday.com (Jed Dislter)
Clementi: Piano Concerto; Two Symphonies, Op. 18
Mozart: Piano Concertos Vol 9 / Christian Zacharias, Lausanne Chamber Orchestra
MOZART Piano Concertos: No. 12 in A , K 414 ; No. 26 in D, K 537 • Christian Zacharias (pn, cond); Lausanne C O • MDG GOLD 940 1759-6 (54:20)
This release, Volume 9 in Christian Zacharias’s ongoing cycle of the Mozart piano concertos, is wonderfully satisfying in every way. I can’t imagine that anyone could find any fault with his natural-sounding piano playing, the clear, sweet sound of the Lausanne Chamber Orchestra, the spacious, clear recorded sound, or, of course, the music itself.
The 12th concerto is an early example of the special grace and intimate expression found in Mozart’s other notable works in A Major: the 23rd concerto, the quintet and concerto for clarinet. The untroubled, celebratory 26th concerto, usually referred to as the “Coronation”, though not here, is sometimes regarded as a less profound work than the other late Mozart concertos, but it has always been a favorite of mine. Zacharias’s wonderful phrasing, glorious ornamentation, and profound understanding of the nuances of Mozart’s keyboard style now make this my favorite performance of the piece, displacing Murray Perahia’s fine account. (I won’t give away a delightful timbral surprise that happens in the cadenza of the first movement.) In general, MDG’s recording adds some resonance to the sound of the piano, with the orchestra providing a sonic foil that’s crisp by comparison, a very pleasing overall balance.
If the other volumes in this series are comparably excellent—and Scott Noriega’s review of the 24th and 25th concertos in 36:1 indicates that they are—then Zacharias’s Mozart cycle may surpass the very best ones that use the modern piano and simply qualify as a life-enhancing event.
FANFARE: Paul Orgel
Haydn: Piano Sonatas, Vol. 3 / Leon McCawley
SOMM Recordings is pleased to announce the third volume in Leon McCawley’s much praised series of Franz Joseph Haydn’s Piano Sonatas. Six Sonatas, spanning the years 1767-84, are featured: the earliest No.31 in A-flat major, the latest No.56 in D major while Robert Matthew- Walker provides fascinating booklet notes describing the multifarious effects on his music of Haydn’s enthusiasm for equal temperament. Sonata No.31 in A-flat major is, he says, a continuation of Bach that seems to bypass Mozart and anticipate early Beethoven: “Astonishingly original music, and not just for its time”. The two-movement Sonata No.32 in G minor is a unique and intimate work while No.34 in D major boasts an innovative tonal scheme that disguises its virtuosity with immediately approachable technique. The F major Sonata No.38, notes Matthew-Walker, is “full of that wonderful combination of inner life and directly human expression that is the essence of Haydn”. Two later Sonatas – Nos.55 (B-flat major) and 56 (D major) – arguably saw romantic sonata form tested to its expressive limits by “Haydn’s original genius” and his “thematic developmental-variation technique even today causing surprise for its profoundly original subtleties”. Volume I was recognized with a coveted Diapason d’Or from Diapason magazine, which enthused: “What a range in his interpretation and how many layers of gradation! McCawley ties these together in a special quality of inflexions which make their point with great intelligibility and sensitivity”. BBC Music Magazine declared Volume II “should stand high on any list” of quality recordings of Haydn, adding “the sparkle of McCawley’s touch is instantly apparent”. Gramophone also commended McCawley’s playing, describing it as “light of touch, stylistically assured and brimful of intelligence and wit”.
Theodor Von Schacht: Symphonies, Vol. 1
SCHACHT Symphonies: in C; in E?; in E?, “Echo” • Gernot Schmalfuss, cond; Evergreen SO • CPO 777 737-2 (79:33)
CPO’s liner notes for this release are typically long, but surprisingly focused entirely on music-making in the Perpetual Diet of Regensburg. Nothing about Schacht, and none of the musical analysis CPO typically offers. The latter is most surprising, given that two of the works on this record are truly imaginative examples of the Haydn symphony’s further development.
Let’s start with a brief note about the composer. Theodor von Schacht (1748–1823) was a pupil in Stuttgart of Jomelli, between 1766 and 1771. His subsequent career centered almost entirely around Regensburg: appointed musical intendant and creator of the Court’s Italian Opera in 1774, of its German Singspiel company in 1778, and of a renewed Italian Opera in 1784. He became musical director of the Court’s orchestra in 1786. Schacht was well regarded both at home and abroad, and decided in 1805 to try his luck in Vienna. There his sacred music proved very popular—popular enough, at any rate, for Napoleon in 1809 to commission six solemn Masses from Schacht. He moved to Württemberg in 1812, and back to Regensburg in 1819. I’ve found no indication as to when he was ennobled and acquired his von, but presumably it was achieved either from Prince Karl Anselm during Schacht’s first lengthy stay in Regensberg, or from Austria’s Archduke Rudolf, who gave Schacht his protection while the latter was in Vienna. (Rudolf was a great patron of Beethoven, and received many dedications from the latter. Yes, including the so-called “Archduke” Trio.)
The symphonies are remarkably inventive. While presenting a Haydn-like synthesis of Italian, German, and French traits, they display a richer chromatic harmonic and thematic vocabulary. (The Regensburg rulers had family ties with the Esterháza, and there was a lively exchange of musical materials over decades. One symphony of Schacht’s was actually credited for a while to Haydn.) The Andante of his Sinfonia in C jumps at one point directly from a passage in F Major to one in A? Major; and the trio in the same Sinfonia’s minuet explores a modulating chain from its home key of C Major—by way of delicately handled solo and paired winds—through B Minor, A Major, A? Minor, E? Major, D Major, etc. The effect in retrospect is Schubertian, and not merely here, for short bursts of wide-ranging harmonic progression occur in most of his movements. This isn’t to suggest that Schubert was influenced by Schacht, but that the latter was a composer with an ear to the latest musical developments, and the skill to capitalize on them in ingenious ways.
If these works are typical of his symphonic output, then Schacht, like Haydn, had a love of the theme and variations form. Both the undated symphonies on this album (the sinfonias in C Major and E? Major; the Sinfonia con Eco in E? Major is credited to 1775, and sounds earlier than the others) employ this for their slow movements. He not only varies the entire theme, but suddenly expands short motivic sections of it, either after a fashion that extends the theme when it returns, or moves it in an entirely new direction. Once again like Haydn, his rondo finales play games with meter, accent, rhythm, postponed cadences, false final cadences, and sudden expressive, harmonic shifts. Grove I notes that Schacht’s instrumental music was less notable for its contrapuntal interest, but in fact his two- and three-part writing is often striking, made more so by his sensitive orchestration. I shouldn’t be surprised if these works begin to make their ways into concerts.
Gernot Schmalfuss doesn’t lack energy, nor the Evergreen SO of Taiwan lack precision, discipline, and color. I would have preferred more attention spent on phrasing in the warmer galant material—Schacht has a gift for ravishing bel canto melody, which he rightly rations for a few special moments—and Schmalfuss takes the Andante movement of the C-Major Symphony at 114 bpm, which vitiates some of the composer’s sensuous writing. But overall, these are good readings, especially tight in the bustling finales, with careful attention paid to dynamics. CPO’s engineering is less distant than in some of their releases, and does a good job of catching Schacht’s bright, frequently shifting orchestral palette.
As charming as Weber’s symphonies, Schacht’s are considerably more substantial than his. And since this is labeled “volume one,” we can look forward to future installments. Meanwhile, don’t miss this.
FANFARE: Barry Brenesal
Haydn: Piano Sonatas Volume IV / McCawley
SOMM Recordings is pleased to announce the fourth volume in Leon McCawley’s much praised series of Franz Joseph Haydn’s Piano Sonatas. Six Sonatas spanning the years 1766-80 are featured: the earliest the miniature First Sonata in G major, the latest the E flat major Sonata No.51, while Robert Matthew-Walker’s fascinating booklet note charts how deftly Haydn balanced the expectations of others and his own creative ambition. “Intended more to entertain than engage the intellect”, the fleet, divertimento-like First Sonata seems to anticipate the pedagogical leanings of Bartók’s Mikrokosmos more than a century and half later.With its unabashed galant style, the D major-led Sonata No.30 is ‘Papa’ Haydn at his most quicksilver brilliant and delightful, while Sonata No.35, in A flat major – “a masterpiece of piano writing” – displays striking characteristics of early Romanticism. Composed with the enhanced voice of the then newly available fortepiano in mind, sibling Sonatas Nos.48 (C major) and 49 (C sharp minor) maintain a winning Classical poise even as one surprise after another see Haydn pushing the sonata form in new and unexpected directions. Volume I (SOMMCD 0162) received a coveted Diapason d’Or from Diapason magazine, which enthused: “What a range in his interpretation and how many layers of gradation! McCawley ties these together in a special quality of inflexions which make their point with great intelligibility and sensitivity”. BBC Music Magazine declared Volume II (SOMMCD 0602) “should stand high on any list” of quality recordings of Haydn, adding “the sparkle of McCawley’s touch is instantly apparent”. Of Volume III (SOMMCD 0624) Gramophone hailed McCawley as “a thoughtful, keenly intelligent artist in peak form… [Haydn’s] piano works an inexhaustible source of artistic riches.”
C.P.E. Bach: Empfindsamkeit
MOZART 1 2 3 4 - SOLO DUO TRIO QUARTET
Schubert: Complete Overtures / Christian Benda, Prague Sinfonia
Schubert wrote his first theatrical work when he was fourteen and his hopes of success in the genre, never truly realised, were long lasting. He wrote concert overtures and music for Singspiele (Song-plays), in some of which he was guided by his teacher, Salieri. The music for the melodrama Die Zauberharfe (The Magic Harp) is better known as the Overture to Rosamunde, but evidence of his captivating vitality, tunefulness and theatricality is everywhere to be heard.
Reviews of the original CD versions.
You may feel drawn to this disc out of a sense of duty. You know that you ought to know more of Schubert’s overtures than the so-called “Rosamunde” or the Overtures in the Italian Style. So you put this disc on – and are immediately transported with a sense of sheer delight. What is more, this continues throughout the disc as one engaging work follows another. At the end you pour yourself another cup of Earl Grey and start again. Well, at least that was my experience.
You may know all of these early works already and have scores or good recordings of them, in which case none of this will come as a surprise. For those who do not, let me explain that the nine overtures on this disc are all relatively early works written for a variety of purposes. Some are for operas or plays, some are concert works, and the last was probably written for a Cantata in honour of the Chief Inspector of Elementary Schools, a man also in charge of the fund for teachers’ widows. Despite that it is a very engaging piece. The notes by Keith Anderson helpfully explain the origins of each Overture, but I doubt whether you would be able to distinguish which is which without those notes. They are however unfailingly attractive, most with slow introductions followed by sonata-form movements. If you enjoy Schubert’s first three Symphonies, you will certainly enjoy these pieces which are very much in a similar vein and with similar virtues, especially in respect of the very characteristic scoring. Over and over again the listener will find themselves delighted by a turn of phrase, an unexpected harmony or deft orchestration.
Although clearly this is essentially down to the composer, much of the pleasure of the disc is also due to the bright but affectionate performances by the Prague Sinfonia, an expanded version of the Prague Chamber Orchestra. Christian Benda comes from a very distinguished family of Czech musicians and directs performances that are just right for these pieces, avoiding on the one hand blandness and on the other excessive point making. The recording quality is clear and full.
You will have gathered by now that I have had considerable pleasure from this disc. Completeness can be a mixed blessing, but on this occasion I am very glad that Naxos have decided to do this in respect of a category as unexpected as Schubert’s Overtures.
-- John Sheppard, MusicWeb International
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As this second volume of overtures shows, there really is quite a bit of little-known Schubert orchestral music. Perhaps the biggest discovery for many listeners will be the turbulent Overture in E minor, but there are more than a few substantial pieces here. The two Overtures in the Italian Style are delightful, and so true to their models, and all of the music here is very well played and recorded. Benda and the Prague Sinfonia deliver a particularly vivacious account of the Rosamunde Overture, just the opposite of the thick and heavy "German" approach that we so often hear, while Fierabras also has plenty of energy. The sonics capture the players very naturally, with nicely present woodwinds and excellent balances between brass and strings. No qualms here: Go for it.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Magnard: Cello Sonata; Piano Trio / Patria, Bellario, Trio Mazzena
Albéric Magnard, born in Paris in 1865, was a pupil of Dubois, Guiraud, Massenet and D’Indy at the Paris Conservatoire, and he frequented the circle of César Franck. In 1896, he became a teacher at Paris’s Schola Cantorum. Then, from 1904, he settled in the countryside on his estate at Manoir des Fontaines in Baron (Oise), where he died in 1914, shot by German troops while attempting to defend the property, which was set on fire along with many of his as yet unpublished compositions. In addition to four symphonies, he is also the author of operas, but chamber music is the genre in which he best expressed himself and into which he poured the influence of Beethoven and the counterpoint of the Schola Cantorum. His last chamber work, the Sonata for Cello and Piano Op. 20 is among his most significant compositions. Composed between 1908 and 1910, it is structured in four movements like all his chamber works, betraying his devotion to German contemporaries and in opposition to the French tendency for three movements in symphonies and instrumental compositions.
Completed in 1905, the Piano Trio Op. 18 was first performed at the Salle Aéolian in Paris in January 1906. Also in four movements, it presents more measured writing than the Cello Sonata or Violin Sonata. The dialogue between the three instruments is refined and balanced without any break in interaction.
These are works by a brilliant composer faithful to tradition. On the whole the music can be described as an innovative and surprising, certainly deserving of wider recognition.
Denis Matsuev - Carnegie Hall Concert
THE CARNEGIE HALL CONCERT • Denis Matsuev (pn) • RCA 88697291462 (78:35) Live: New York 11/2007
SCHUMANN Kinderszenen, op. 15. LISZT Sonata in b. PROKOFIEV Sonata No. 7 in B?, op. 83. LIADOV The Musical Snuff-Box, op. 32. SCRIABIN Etude in d? , op. 8/12. GRIEG In the Hall of the Mountain King (arr. Ginzburg)
He has been called the “next Horowitz,” though I’ll wager that Horowitz never had the strength of Denis Matsuev. Now the fifth album of the formidable virtuoso is available, a live concert from Carnegie Hall no less, evidently recorded in one take. As far as I can tell, this is the entire concert sans one Stravinsky encore.
Matsuev has chosen well albeit somewhat dangerously for this debut, though the record proves he is more than up to the challenge. Schumann’s Kinderszenen is not a work that usually opens a program because it has relatively little thunder, lots of contrast, and confounds audience expectations for an initial hearing of a new artist. I am sure the Carnegie audience was expecting thunder and got poetry instead. Matsuev proves himself the gentle giant in this work, reining in any tendencies to turn Schumann into Beethoven, and for the most part rendering the work in an affable and engaging manner.
In fact, the last number of the set, “The Poet Speaks,” dovetails nicely into Liszt’s monumental opus almost as if that composer had taken his cue from Schumann. But not many bars pass when we hear what we came for, and truly this man is capable of some astounding virtuoso pianism that practically redefines the word. I have never heard Liszt’s propulsive and thunderous octaves sound like this before; in fact, I don’t remember hearing such an enormous and singly percussive sound from the instrument since hearing Jorge Bolet play the Tannhäuser overture at Indiana University back in 1973. This is so loud and so powerful that one fears the piano will come crashing down to the ground, and I am not at all convinced that the piano does in fact hold up well. RCA captures the sound of the piano and the hall quite effectively, but the percussive tsunami that Matsuev unleashes here distorts the tonal quality of the instrument; I was almost surprised that he didn’t stop between sections and have a tuner come out on stage. But this is a very good performance, almost eclipsing my favorite, that of Emil Gilels on RCA Living Stereo. Gilels also had this sort of power in his heyday—or at least close—but reveled in his own poetic instincts in the same manner that Matsuev does.
The Prokofiev is not a work one associates with poetry; instead it is a mechanistic beast of the industrial age. Sviatoslav Richter premiered the work in 1943 after having learned it in four days. It does represent a world out of focus, and not only that but actively committed to a certain type of inhuman mania that creeps up every century or so. But for all that, it never ceases to excite and thrill listeners, possibly because in the end it does strike a hopeful note, though after a lot of struggle, something those in the Soviet Union at the time of the Great Patriotic War would certainly understand. Matsuev is on top of this one as well, ferociously committed to its unflagging anti-sentimentality. Though Richter will always have an authority here (Archipel), and Argerich turns in a barn-burner as well (EMI), this one has to be ranked with the very best.
The three encores given are but teasers—one would love to hear some extended Scriabin from this man, this short étude offering but a glimpse of his impetuous way with the music, while the Liadov and Grieg are simply contrasting icings on one cake. RCA catches the vast dynamic range of this artist as well as anyone can, and it’s quite a ride. You won’t fall asleep during this one, that’s a promise.
FANFARE: Steven E. Ritter
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In concert and on disc Mr. Matsuev has mostly specialized in finger-busting virtuoso pieces. But what was most striking about the account of Schumann’s "Kinderszenen" that opened this recital was the delicacy and introversion of his playing. Starting at a hushed volume and a relaxed pace he phrased with a dreamy freedom that had the feeling of spontaneous invention.
A diaphanous account of the "Träumerei" movement threatened to disappear altogether, and the bold silences and aching sustained notes of the concluding "Der Dichter Spricht" had an almost daredevil feel.
...Liszt’s Sonata in B minor...gave him ample opportunity to take it out on the keyboard. Tumultuous passages here were almost overwhelmingly raucous. But his poetic instincts held fast in tender moments, with trills as thrillingly precise as one might ever hope to hear.
...He superbly captured the moody fluctuations of Prokofiev’s Sonata No. 7, from anxiety and brittleness to haunted rumination, and offered a primal performance of the roiling Precipato finale.
Liadov’s "Music Box"; a Scriabin étude (Op. 8, No. 12); "In the Hall of the Mountain King" by Grieg in a flamboyant transcription by Grigory Ginzburg — each greeted with increased passion...When it ended, one fully expected to see smoke curling from his fingertips.
- New York Times
(Review of the Carnegie Hall concert, 11/19/2007)
Bartók: Piano Concertos / Aimard, Salonen, San Francisco Symphony
Pianist Pierre-Laurent Aimard joins forces with the San Francisco Symphony and Music Director Esa-Pekka Salonen for a recording of Bartók’s complete piano concertos. A pianist himself; Bartók imbued his three concertos with multiple aspects of his compositional persona; ranging from complex and innovative (the First) to exuberant (the Second) and serene (the Third). The result is a fascinating slice of his musical life. This all-Bartók release marks the first Pentatone collaboration between Esa-Pekka Salonen and the San Francisco Symphony; an ensemble he has reshaped through creative performance concepts and expansive new media projects.
A renowned champion of twentieth-century music; Pierre-Laurent Aimard has released multiple acclaimed albums in his exclusive contract with Pentatone; including Messiaen’s Catalogue d’Oiseaux (2018) and Visions de l’Amen (2022); along with Beethoven’s Hammerklavier Sonata & Eroica Variations (2021). He also joined Tamara Stefanovich in Etudes and Frames (2023); with music by Vassos Nicolaou. Salonen returns to the label for the first time since his recording of Stravinsky’s Perséphone (2018); the San Francisco Symphony previously appeared on the 2005 Pentatone release Young America.
REVIEWS:
You know just within a couple of minutes these recordings are going to be special. As Salonen and the San Francisco Symphony sweep thrillingly into the First Piano Concerto’s Allegro, Pierre-Laurent Aimard luxuriates in the space they leave him on a superbly recorded disc…‘Definitive’ is a daft word to use about an interpretation. How can we truly know? But superlative this absolutely is.
-- The Sunday Times (★★★★★)
Ultimately, then, we’ve got something special here: a fresh take on some canonic works by a conductor and soloist whose bread-and-butter is this very fare. It’s an undertaking that flatters all parties involved musically, technically, and intellectually. Best of all, it draws out the latent mellifluousness of Bartók’s writing, even when, outwardly, that’s at its most hard-edged.
-- The Arts Fuse
In the second concerto I particularly admired the middle movement, with its opening on slow strings – which were silent in the first movement – and the fast toccata-like middle section generated exactly the right kind of excitement.
The third concerto is more different from the other two than they are from each other. It is mainly serene and graceful, remarkably so when one considers that it was written in wartime, in exile and when Bartók knew he did not have long to live...Aimard, slightly to my surprise, provides beautifully elegant phrasing and articulation and shows himself as much at home in the graceful writing here as he did in the much more challenging writing in the first two concertos...The recording is impeccable.
-- MusicWeb International
[Aimard] is aided and abetted every step of the way by the San Francisco Orchestra and its new(ish) music director...Salonen approaches these works as unapologetically modernist, and he has inspired the orchestra to shed the richly upholstered colors they developed under MTT for a less weighty, more severe color palette that ensures laser-like clarity even in the densest contrapuntal passages. The middle sections of concertos 1 and 2’s slow movements are particularly telling, and listen to the wind’s precision and leanness in the first concerto’s opening movement, which gives the music a mechanical brilliance. Pentatone’s engineers ensure the bass drum has plenty of impact. When Salonen conducted these concertos for Bronfman in Los Angeles, the Sony engineering highlighted that orchestra’s cinematic sound. Here we have a quite different sound palette that embraces a greater variety of hues in a true concert hall acoustic.
Characterful...strongly recommended.
-- The Classic Review
Röntgen: Symphonies Nos. 7, 11, 12, 14, 22-24 / Porcelijn
We now once again can continue our comprehensive and successful Röntgen Edition with a new production containing two albums dedicated to his last symphonies. These works once again demonstrating that Röntgen was the most highly imaginative composer in Holland during the second half of the nineteenth century. Julius Röntgen composed his Symphony no. 12 in C major (“In Babylone”) in 1930, along with eight further symphonies. Seven of these works are laid out in a single movement and last from ten to 15 minutes. The actual main theme of Symphony no. 12 is only heard at the end in the plein jeu of the organ. At the beginning of 1930 Julius Röntgen was awarded an honorary doctorate from the University of Edin‑burgh. The degree was proposed by Professor Donald Francis Tovey, with whom he had already developed a friendship by 1910. Tovey considered Röntgen the last link in a chain proceeding from Beethoven, Schubert and Brahms, a man capable of telling and teaching us of these 19th‑century titans. Röntgen was so surprised and delighted at the prospect of this tribute that he immediately set out to compose his Seventh Symphony in F minor, the “Edinburgh” Symphony. Following the model of Joseph Haydn and his “Oxford” Symphony, he intended to present it to the university’s senate at the awards ceremony. Röntgen celebrated the Christmas season and New Year’s Day with the newly married couple in Winterthur, where his newest – and last – symphony originated in 1930. Symphony no. 14 in D major (“Winterthur”) makes do with a small amount of material. The horns enter on natural harmonics in D major, seemingly emerging directly from the Alpine scenery.
Witt: Symphony, Flute Concerto / Gallois, Sinfonia Finlandia Jyvaskyla
WITT Symphony in C, “Jena.” Symphony in A. Flute Concerto in G, op. 8 • Patrick Gallois (fl, cond); Sinfonia Finlandia Jyväskylä • NAXOS 8.572089 (69:37)
Born in the same year as Beethoven, the longer-lived Friedrich Witt (1770–1836) is acknowledged today, if a bit shamefacedly, as the composer of the so-called “Jena” Symphony once attributed to Beethoven. Not a single note of the score changed between the time it was believed to be by the great Ludwig Van and when it was discovered not to be; yet critical opinion of the work plummeted like the stock market on the report of bad news. Funny how that happens—yesterday buy, today sell, though nothing but the name of the note issuer of record has changed.
Recordings of Witt’s works represent but the tip of a sizeable iceberg; fewer than 10 of his works, as far as I can tell, have been recorded. Yet he is believed to have written as many as 23 symphonies, numerous concertos for various instruments, a considerable volume of chamber music, a number of operas, and an oratorio, Der leidende Heiland (The Suffering Savior), which secured him an appointment as Kapellmeister at the court of the Prince-Bishop of Würzburg in 1802.
Prior to this, however—sometime around 1792 or 1793—while Witt was serving as cellist at the court of Oettingen-Wallerstein and taking composition lessons from Antonio Rosetti, he laid eyes upon four of Haydn’s latest “London” Symphonies—Nos. 93, 96, 97, and 98—which Haydn had sent to Wallerstein. This, according to Keith Anderson’s booklet note, and other biographical sources I’ve come across, was Witt’s moment of dawning light, a light that, paradoxically, would eventually dim his own lamp in the pages of music history. Witt’s worst “crime,” it seems, was not simply imitating Haydn to the point of near plagiarism, but doing so at a time when Beethoven was busy “liberating music” from the strictures of classical content and style, if not quite yet classical form. In other words, Witt chose the path of the arch-conservative. History thereby ended up lumping him together with the lesser contemporaries of Haydn and Mozart instead of with the lesser contemporaries of Beethoven and Schubert, whom Witt outlived by the better part of a decade. Which lumping would have been better for Witt’s posthumous reputation I’m not sure; neither changes the music he wrote.
Witt’s G-Major Flute Concerto, newly recorded here, has been recorded before. It was included on an MDG Gold disc that also contained the composer’s Sixth, so-called “Turkish,” and Ninth symphonies. Johannes Moesus led the Hamburg Symphony Orchestra, and the concerto was played by flutist Susanne Barner. That release, which I happen to have, was reviewed by Barry Brenesal in Fanfare 29:2.
As for the “Jena” Symphony, don’t believe everything you find, or don’t find, at ArkivMusic. As of this writing, the site lists only the current Naxos recording. But the work has appeared on disc before as far back as the 1950s. An LP on the Concert Hall label with Walter Goehr conducting the Netherlands Philharmonic has been transferred to CD, and there is a downloadable Deutsche Grammophon version with Franz Konwitschny. Versions on Urania with Rolf Kleinert leading the Leipzig Philharmonic and with Wolfgang Hoffmann leading the Rhineland Philharmonia on Musical Heritage Society also exist.
In hindsight, it’s hard to imagine how Witt’s “Jena” Symphony, written sometime before 1796, could ever have been mistaken for a work by Beethoven. Even Beethoven’s earliest orchestral works, namely the first two piano concertos, present an entirely different sound world from Witt’s symphony. Beethoven’s melodic contours are different, as is his way of writing for winds and of extending and developing his thematic material. Witt’s symphony is pure Haydn. Listen to the first movement’s second theme beginning at 2:13. In shape and style, it’s close to a dead ringer for the first movement’s second theme in Haydn’s D-Major Symphony No. 93, which was one of the four “London” Symphonies that Witt had access to at Oettingen-Wallerstein.
The Adagio likewise proceeds in Haydnesque melodic phrases and harmonic gestures, while the Menuetto is big on formal flourishes, curtsies, and that big ballroom-band sound common to so many of Haydn’s minuet movements. It contains none of the sprinting, whiplash elements that, in Beethoven’s hands, would transform the minuet into a scherzo. The last movement, a spirited Allegro, would have brought a London audience to its feet, just as Haydn’s finales did. If you love Haydn (and who doesn’t?), and his 106 symphonies aren’t enough for you, you can listen to Witt’s “Jena” Symphony and pretend it’s Haydn’s 107th, or you can listen to it and appreciate it for what it is, the work of a master copycat.
The A-Major Symphony, written perhaps a year or two before the “Jena,” seems somehow lighter and fleeter of foot. A passage or two in the first movement sounds as if it’s about to lapse into the bubbly, scintillating passagework one hears in Mozart’s “Linz” Symphony. The one surprise Witt has in store for us is that he places his Menuetto in second position, before the Andante. Though not unprecedented—Haydn did it in his C-Major Symphony No. 32—the practice was uncommon before 1830. Beethoven, in fact, didn’t reverse the order of the two inner movements in any of his symphonies until the Ninth, though it’s arguable whether the Eighth even has a slow movement at all.
Though Haydn wrote close to four dozen concertos for various instruments, the medium was not his in the way it was Mozart’s, and Witt seemed instinctively to realize this, turning instead to Mozart’s concertos as the model for his own G-Major Flute Concerto of 1806. With so few of Witt’s works available on record, it would be rash to say that this concerto is his crowning achievement. I think it’s safe to say, however, that it displays a wealth of melodic invention, ample virtuosic challenges for the soloist, a richness of orchestral writing, and an originality of ideas that seemed lacking in the symphonies. With as fine a flute concerto as this, I’m surprised that flutists aren’t lining up to add it to their repertoires.
Until I received this recording, I thought that Susanne Barner on the aforementioned MDG disc was perfectly fine, but compared to renowned flutist Patrick Gallois on this new Naxos CD, she sounds rather laid-back and a bit mechanical in her delivery. Gallois sparkles and tosses off Witt’s arpeggios, runs, and roulades with panache. The Sinfonia Finlandia Jyväskylä, under Gallois’s direction, also sounds more spirited and alert, not to mention better recorded than the Hamburgers under Moesus.
Taking that into account, along with the fact that this, to my knowledge, is the only modern recording currently available of Witt’s “Jena” Symphony, Gallois becomes the entry of choice. A selling point of the MDG is that it contains two of Witt’s other symphonies not duplicated on the current disc. So, I shall be keeping both; but for those wanting to sample Witt’s work that has netted the most ink—the “Jena”—and what may be one of his most masterly works—the flute concerto—Naxos’s CD is a no-brainer and a bargain to boot.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Hands up who has heard of Friedrich Witt. Not many probably, for Witt seldom even makes it to the footnotes of musical history books. His main claim to fame is that his Symphony in C major - which is the first work on this recording - was once mistakenly attributed to Beethoven. In the early 1900s musical researchers uncovered the score and found the master’s name written next to two parts of the manuscript. Remembering that Beethoven himself had intimated that he had once attempted a symphony in C, the researchers put two and two together and got it wrong. It was left to H.C. Robbins Landon to prove that the work was really by Witt, a cellist and composer from Wallerstein.
Nevertheless, the Naxos tradition of bringing the obscure to light has paid off in this recording. The three works presented give a fascinating insight into the kind of music that was being written in the tin-pot courts of Germany while the likes of Beethoven were developing revolutionary new means of expression in Vienna. This does not mean that the music is poor. Quite the opposite. It is bold and attractive stuff.
The C major symphony (nicknamed ‘Jena’ after the city’s university, where the manuscript was discovered in 1909) was composed in 1796 and is clearly influenced by Haydn. This is no coincidence. It is known that in 1792 or 1793 Haydn sent four of his London symphonies - Nos. 93, 96, 97 and 98 - to Wallerstein, where Witt must have seen them. The opening allegro is upbeat and playful, with a touch of Haydn wit. The ensuing ‘Adagio cantabile’ contains an attractive melody, while the finale is a fast-paced race to the finish that makes good use of the comparatively large orchestra at Witt’s disposal - including timpani and trumpets, as well as flute, oboes, bassoons, horns and strings.
The Symphony in A major is less riveting. Written about six years earlier, it lacks Haydn’s positive influence and is hemmed in by simple and rather restrictive sonata-form structures. The Flute Concerto in G is much more satisfying. This work was published in 1806 and benefits from a fuller, heavier, orchestral sound. Nevertheless, it still inhabits the sound-world of Haydn and Mozart rather than ‘Eroica’ Beethoven. Patrick Gallois ably tackles the tricky flute solos while simultaneously conducting the Sinfonia Finlandia Jyväskylä. There is a quasi-Romantic opening to the second movement, followed by a fine flute melody which is developed and decorated. But the final Rondo brings us safely back to the late eighteenth century.
-- John-Pierre Joyce, MusicWeb International
Gallo: 12 Trio Sonatas / Parnassi Musici
REVIEW:
Within the first few seconds of the first track--the Sonata No. 1 in G major--most listeners will find themselves in surprisingly familiar territory--surprising because this little-known 18th-century composer seems to have written a popular tune long attributed to Pergolesi, a misattribution given additional false credibility by its use in Stravinsky's Pulcinella. In fact Stravinsky used selections from several of Domenico Gallo's trio sonatas in his famous ballet music, thinking them to be works of Pergolesi because they were published under his name in late-19th century English editions.
Ultimately--other than the fact that it's always nice to set the record straight--the author of these expertly written and very appealing works for violins, cello, and harpsichord is not so important as what they offer to listeners and to performers. (For the record, even Gallo's authorship isn't absolutely certain for all 12 sonatas.)
As realized by these four excellent players and their well-matched period instruments, we can count on a steadfastly upbeat, uplifting hour and 10 minutes of first rate chamber music notable for its lovely, lively melodies and skillfully varied textures and harmonic settings. Gallo shows much of his best stuff in his slow movements--and so do the performers, who demonstrate their facility in bringing out the music's emotional core. Good examples are the slow movements of No. 2 in B-flat, No. 3 in C minor, and the very Bach-like No. 6 in D major for which, unfortunately, you'll have to do a little searching because each work is served by only one track number. Throughout, the playing is stylish and full of personality, buoyed by unfaltering technical confidence and assured ensemble interaction. The sound is intimate, warm, and resonant. It's not Bach; it's not even Pergolesi. But it's well worth a place in your CD collection, especially as this set contains pieces you won't find anywhere else. Perhaps Parnassi musici and/or other musicians will be motivated to explore and record the many other works by Gallo that remain unpublished and unperformed.
-- David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
Paganini: Complete Chamber Music / Paganini String Quartet
Dynamic, the independent Italian record label, based close to Paganini’s birthplace in Genoa, has compiled this ten disc set of their previously issued Paganini recordings. It seems that several of these recordings were receiving their first recording. Although this box includes the complete edition of Paganini’s fifteen quartets for strings and guitar; the three string quartets and a number of other chamber works there is certainly much of Paganini’s chamber music not included here. It omits the large amount of chamber music that Paganini wrote for guitar and violin, solo guitar and for solo violin. There are seventy or so duets for violin and guitar, including the familiar Sonata concertata, MS2, Grand Sonata, MS3 and the Cantabile, MS109. In addition Paganini wrote over a hundred scores for solo guitar. Dynamic have issued discs of a sizeable number of Paganini’s works for violin and guitar and a disc of some of his solo guitar scores.AB The Arts Music label on Red Line has four volumes of the solo guitar music.C With regard to the solo violin music there are many available versions. For the Dynamic label Stefan Milenkovich has recorded the complete music for solo violin - released in 2004 on CDS 402/1-2.
Paganini holds an esteemed status as probably the world’s finest ever virtuoso violinist but his chamber music compositions are, with minor exceptions, almost totally ignored. It is often forgotten that Paganini also played and composed for the guitar. In fact, of the five opus numbers published during his lifetime only the op. 1 set of 24 Caprices for Solo Violin did not include the guitar. It may come as a surprise that Paganini also wrote a sacred choral score entitled Le couvent du mont St. Bernard for violin, chorus and orchestra. I have yet to hear it but it was given its first recording by the Dynamic label.
I have previously reviewed five of the ensemble scores with guitar that are contained on this release on two volumes of recordings from the German based Ambitus label (Vol. 1 AMB97977 and Vol. 2 AMB96899).
It seems that Paganini wrote chamber music from an early age and continued to do so regularly throughout his life. Often he would compose whilst on tour as a virtuoso performer during the long and arduous coach journeys. Biographer Danilo Prefumo has written that, “Paganini’s chamber music is the genuine expression of the more private side of this composer’s musicality …” The general neglect of Paganini’s chamber music is highlighted by the fact that for many decades a large number of the scores have not been generally available for performance. For example his three string quartets MS20 were published as recently as 1976 with a performing edition in 1991; some hundred and fifty years after their composition.
In addition to his fame for composing for the violin Paganini also wrote a substantial amount of music for the guitar. The majority of the scores on this Dynamic release include the guitar. Swiss composer Franz von Wartensee, an associate of Paganini, wrote in his memoirs, “Not everyone knows that Paganini was a first-rate guitarist, since he did not consider it worth the effort to present himself publicly as such.” The sources of information that I have checked are rather vague on the origins and dates of Paganini’s attraction to the guitar. I understand that the main influence was his father Antonio who was himself a mandolin player and it is likely that from an early age Paganini would have received instruction from Antonio. It seems that from around 1801, during the few years that Paganini lived with a wealthy lady on her country estate in Tuscany, his energies were principally channelled into guitar study and composition.
On the whole the music on this Dynamic series is characteristic, lyrical and immensely enjoyable. These scores have a propensity for delivering entertainment rather than cherishing pretensions of greatness; those wanting significant emotional depth to their music should look elsewhere.
Comprising seventy percent of the set the fifteen Quartets for strings and guitar (CDs 1-5); the three Strings quartets (CD 7) and the five Trios for strings and guitar (CD 6) follow a similar sound-world and design. Here Paganini’s typical four movement plan predominantly consists of a quick and entertaining opening movement Allegro followed by a lively and carefree second movement Minuet that verges on a Scherzo. The slow third movement is expressive, aria-like and sweetly lyrical, marked Adagio or Andante. Concluding the score is a brisk and spiritedly ebullient Allegro or Presto that sometimes employs the stricter form of a Rondo.
I especially enjoyed the Theme and eight Variations for two violins and cello, MS117 (CD 8) - an unusual and pleasurable score with a noble theme, followed by a set of eight variations containing a wide range of moods. The twenty one Divertimenti carnevaleschi for two violins and cello, MS4 (CD 8) are a substantial set of short and varied scores.
Included on the final disc is the four Nocturnes for two violins, viola and cello, MS15 (CD 10). Each of the Nocturnes opens with an expressive slow movement that precedes a brisk and lithe dance-like movement. Two interesting and amiable scores are the Sonata per Rovene per mandolino e chitarra (Serenata per Rovene in E minor for mandolin and guitar), MS14 and the Serenata per mandolino e chitarra (Serenata in G major for mandolin and guitar), MS16. Both scores are cast in two brief movements with the mandolin taking the leading role. In a way similar to the four Nocturnes, MS15 a slow movement is followed by a movement of a swifter pace. The final work on the set the Minuetto per l’amandorlino per mandolino solo (Minuet in E major for solo mandolin), MS106 is a rather uninspiring three movement affair.
To be candid these works although interesting and highly appealing are not candidates to become staples of the chamber repertoire and are unlikely to be taken up by the leading ensembles on the international stage. Notwithstanding the numerous four movement scores, I found many of the other works such as the three Duets for violin and cello; the twenty one Divertimenti carnevaleschi for two violins and cello; the substantial three Duets for violin and bassoon; the Sonata per Rovene per mandolino e chitarra and the Serenata per mandolino e chitarra contained surprises both in terms of layout, employment of instrumentation and musical content.
Generally, I was fascinated by how Paganini’s writing can sometimes display a certain vulgarity and the next minute I could be enchanted by his charm and warmth. I found it frequently difficult to forecast what Paganini would do next and this unpredictability is a characteristic that was highly pleasing.
Dynamic have employed some nineteen different players over the fifteen year span of these recordings. Violinists: Bruno Pignata the leader of the Quartetto Paganini performs on a large number of the scores; Stefan Milenkovich displays his undoubted prowess on disc 8 and the renowned international soloist and Paganini champion Salvatore Accardo plays on the Three Duets for violin and bassoon (CD 9). It is clear from these interpretations that the players relish the attractive writing. Throughout I was impressed by the matching of the players, their blend of ensemble and choice of pace. Overall finesse, eloquence and tonal beauty are not words that I would use to describe these performances although the playing is consistently characterful, and often glowing and delightful. I especially enjoyed the effervescent performances of the allegros of the quintets and quartets and was impressed that the momentum of the slow movements is never allowed to wane.
Generally the sound quality has been produced to a decent standard, clean and bright with just a slight lack of depth. However, on CD 9 I found the Three Duets for violin and bassoon to be rather too brightly lit and I had to resort to considerable adjustment of the line-out-level on my disc player. There is an interesting and well written essay in the accompanying booklet by Danilo Prefumo; yet I was left wanting more information on the actual scores.
These rarely encountered chamber music scores from the Genoese Maestro are certainly worthy of investigation.
-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International
Full details
CD 1: Complete Quartets for strings and guitar, Vol. 1 [67:16]
Quartet No. 1 in A minor, Op.4/1, MS28 [21:41]
Quartet No. 9 in D major, MS36 [21:42]
Quartet No. 10 in A major, MS37 [23:53]
CD 2: Complete Quartets for strings and guitar, Vol. 2 [63:47]
Quartet No. 11 in B major, MS38 [20:28]
Quartet No. 12 in A minor, MS39 [23:33]
Quartet No. 13 in F major, MS40 (1819) [19:46]
CD 3: Complete Quartets for strings and guitar, Vol. 3 [68:53]
Quartet No. 3 in A major, Op. 4/3, MS30 [21:21]
Quartet No. 7 in E major, MS34 [26:04]
Quartet No. 14 in A major, MS41 [21:27]
CD 4: Complete Quartets for strings and guitar, Vol. 4 [64:03]
Quartet No. 2 in C major, Op. 4/2, MS29 [18:56]
Quartet No. 8 in A major, MS35 [23:03]
Quartet No. 15 in A minor, MS42 [22:04]
CD 5: Complete Quartets for strings and guitar, Vol. 5 [74:17]
Quartet No. 4 in D major, Op.5/1, MS31 [24:21]
Quartet No. 5 in D major, Op. 5/2, MS32 [24:20]
Quartet No. 6 in D minor, Op. 5/3, MS33 [25:36]
CD 6: Complete Trios for strings and guitar [65:29]
Serenata in C major for viola, cello and guitar, MS17 [15:10]
Terzetto Concertante in D major for viola, cello and guitar, MS114 [22:55]
Terzetto in D major for viola, cello and guitar, MS69 [20:12]
Terzetto in A minor for 2 violins and guitar, MS116 [03:03]
Serenata in F major for 2 violins and guitar, MS115 [04:09]
CD 7: Complete String Quartets, MS20 [64:55]
String Quartet No. 1 (c.1815) [19:02]
String Quartet No. 2 (c.1815) [23:00]
String Quartet No. 3 (c.1815) [22:53]
CD 8: Works for violin/s and cello [67:00]
In cor più non mi sento, theme and variations for two violins and cello, [08:15]
Three Duets for violin and cello:
Duet No.1 [09:13]
Duet No.2 [09:49]
Duet No.3 [09:21]
21 Divertimenti carnevaleschi for 2 violins and cello, MS4 [30:22]
CD 9: Three Duets for violin and bassoon, MS130 [50:08]
Duet No.1 [16:57]
Duet No.2 [16:52]
Duet No.3 [16:19]
CD 10: Quattro Notturni a quartetto, MS15 and other works [57:07]
Quattro Notturni a quartetto for two violins, viola and cello, MS15: Notturno No. 1, [06:28]
Notturno No. 2, [07:11]
Notturno No. 3, [04:14]
Notturno No. 4, [03:31]
Quartet No. 7 in E major for two violins, viola and cello, MS34
(transcription from quartet for strings and guitar) [22:49]
Sonata per Rovene per mandolino e chitarra, MS14 [02:56]
Serenata per mandolino e chitarra, MS16 [02:53]
Minuetto per l’amandorlino per mandolino solo, MS106 [07:05]
Performers Quartetto Paganini: Bruno Pignata (violin), Lorenzo Lugli (viola), Paola Mosca (cello), Giuseppe Briasco (guitar) (CDs 1-3). Quartetto Paganini: Bruno Pignata (violin), Ernest Braucher (viola), Riccardo Agosti (cello), Giuseppe Briasco (guitar) (CDs 4 & 5). Dora Bratchkova (violin), Götz Hartmann (violin), Antonello Farulli (viola), Andrea Noferini (cello), Adriano Sebastiani (guitar) (CD 6). Quartetto d’archi Paganini: Bruno Pignata (violin), Gian Luca Allocco (violin), Ernest Braucher (viola), Dario De Stefano (cello) (CD 7). Stefan Milenkovich (violin), Riccardo Agosti (cello), Pier Domenico Sommati (second violin) (CD 8). Salvatore Accardo (violin), Claudio Gonella (bassoon) (CD 9). Quartetto d’archi Paganini: Bruno Pignata (violin), Gian Luca Allocco (violin), Ernest Braucher (viola), Dario De Stefano (cello), Dorina Frati (Genoese mandolin), Piera Dadomo (guitar) (CD 10).
Schenck: The Nymphs Of The Rhine Vol 1 / Les Voix Humaines
What's a critic supposed to do? The last thing you want is to go around just handing out top ratings, but what choice do you have when you hear a disc such as this one? On the surface it's got very little going for it--obscure repertoire, esoteric instruments, and it's chamber music to boot! And for the whole disc, all you hear is two solo bass violas da gamba--no orchestra, no keyboard, no exotic winds or percussion. But I'm willing to bet that if you hear this, if you have even the remotest appreciation for beautiful melody, for the richly-colored, reedy sonority of ideally matched stringed instruments, and a fascination with the essence of chamber music--a real dialogue between players--you will be pleased and happily surprised. It's not Bach or Marais, and it's not masterpiece-caliber music, but these six sonatas by 17th-century Dutch-born composer Johannes Schenck (1660-c. 1712) show an unusually accomplished facility for dramatic, interactive part-writing as well as a thorough command of the gamba's technical limits and possibilities. Schenck was a virtuoso player himself (he was one of the many stars at the Düsseldorf court from about 1696 until his death), and the two performers on this recording, members of the Quebec-based Les Voix Humaines, not only grasp the music's considerable technical demands, but fully embrace its more or less free-flowing style, weaving and tossing and shaping their lines, playing with and against each other in a spirited, sometimes improvisatory-like conversation. Le Nymphe di Rheno (The Nymphs of the Rhine) is the title of Schenck's Op. 8 collection of 12 sonatas of which half are presented on this Volume 1. I'm actually looking forward to more of this music from these very fine musicians on Volume 2. And the full-bodied sound makes the whole thing just about perfect. --David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
British Cello Sonatas, Vol. 2 / Handy, Walsh
In her A minor Sonata, Op.5, as in her earlier Sonata in C minor for cello and piano (1880), Ethel Smyth favors expressivity over virtuosity, emphasizing the cello’s warm and lyrical tone. The piano enjoys a key role in all three movements and is often invited to present the chief subject matter rather than merely playing a supporting role accompanying the cello line. One of Delius’s most satisfying chamber works, the Cello Sonata is distinguished by the expressive power of its material. Both instruments enter at the same time, the cello unfolding a songlike, long-limbed line, while the piano presents the main idea. A second key theme, introduced by the cello over the piano’s rippling, arpeggiated chords, is more forthright and sharply defined. An unattributed review of Gibbs’s Cello Sonata in E published in The Musical Times in 1953, found it to be ‘an ideal piece of work for cellists who want something contemporary on which to develop their technique, for its difficulties are of the sort which repays practice’. Thanks to this recording of the work more than seventy years after its completion, contemporary listeners now have an opportunity to appreciate its melodic strength, understated formal artistry and grateful writing for both instruments. Britten’s Cello Sonata is a challenging, bravura piece that benefits immeasurably from the natural affinity between composer and cellist Mstislav Rostropovich. The relationship would inspire Britten to produce four more major works for Rostropovich who wrote of the work, ‘This is a sonata full of surprises, innovations for any cellist, gifts for the musician flowing freely from the horn of plenty. We meet not merely a novelty in finger-work but, what is most important, a new kind of expressive and profound dramatic composition.’
Music for a Viennese Salon / Night Music
Philadelphia-based period-instrument ensemble Night Music re-creates an afternoon of music making from October 1801 at the Austrian capital’s Palais Arnstein, with a flamboyant Quintet for flute and strings by Joseph Kraus, a duo by Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf for the unusual combination of viola and double bass, and a chamber arrangement – by the impresario Johann Peter Salomon utilizing the same instrumentation as the Kraus Quintet – of perhaps the most notorious of symphonic surprises. NIGHT MUSIC is a Philadelphia-based chamber ensemble dedicated to exploring and performing music of the Revolutionary era, roughly 1760 to 1825. Their repertory ranges from duos and trios to large-scale chamber works combining strings and winds, such as the imaginative symphony arrangements that were so popular around 1800, to concertos, cantatas, and concert arias. The 2019-2020 season highlights include guest appearances at Kenyon College and the University of Pennsylvania’s “Music at the Pavilion” Series. Recent engagements include the PhilaLandmarks Early Music Concert Series and the Early Music at St. James series in Lancaster.
REVIEW:
The Kraus Flute Quintet makes an excellent opening, likely to make you wonder why we don’t hear more of this Swedish composer’s music. Although the flute is first among equals here, it’s by no means a showy piece for a soloist. Night Music perfectly integrate flute and strings, and the recording is also very well integrated.
Is Salomon’s arrangement of Haydn's ‘Surprise’ Symphony equally worthy of recording? The music makes a good effect, charming music at this scale, receiving a charming performance; as in the Kraus, the flautist and the engineers don’t allow the instrument to dominate. With such small forces, however, the feature which earned the work its nickname, the sudden change from quiet to loud in the andante second movement, designed ‘to make the ladies jump’ – Beecham used to bring it off especially well – doesn’t quite come off, despite a claim to the contrary in the booklet. That said, this is an enjoyable work in its own inevitably diminished right.
I can’t claim great music status for the Dittersdorf Duo, but it, too, receives a performance which brings out its attractions, and the recording captures the unusual sound of the combination very effectively.
– MusicWeb International
Taneyev: Violin Sonata, Piano Music / Olga Solovieva, Et Al
TANEYEV Violin Sonata in a. 1 Theme and Variations in C. Repose. Scherzos: in d; in g; in e?; in C; in F. Prelude in F. Quadrille. Andantino semplice. Prelude and Fugue in g?, op. 29. Romance, op. 26/6 (arr. Feigin) 1 • Olga Solovieva (pn); Ivan Peshkov (vn) 1 • NAXOS 8.557804 (72:41)
After several decades in the wilderness, Sergey Ivanovich Taneyev (1856–1915) is enjoying somewhat of a comeback, with a number of recent recordings introducing him anew to audiences that may have known his name but have heard little of his music. With Nikolai Rubinstein as his piano teacher and Tchaikovsky as his instructor in composition, Taneyev graduated from the Moscow Conservatory with honors. He made his concert debut in Moscow in 1875 playing Brahms’s D-Minor Concerto, and the following year he toured Russia as accompanist to the great violinist Leopold Auer.
Unfortunately for Taneyev, a dyed-in-the-wool musical conservative who distinguished himself as a performing artist in the works of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven, and who, as a composer, cast his countenance ever further West and further back than Tchaikovsky, becoming an expert in the techniques of 15th-century vocal polyphony and 16th-century counterpoint, he ran afoul of his Russian nationalist contemporaries. No love was lost between them. Taneyev was disdainful of the “Mighty Handful,” publicly reproaching Balakirev, calling Borodin “a clever dilettante,” and remarking that Mussorgsky made him laugh. He was a bit more deferential towards Rimsky-Korsakov, respecting the composer of Scheherazade for his serious study of counterpoint.
Taneyev’s personality and outlook are perhaps a bit easier to understand when one realizes that he was, in his own mind, anyway, an unfairly untitled aristocrat. Coming from a wealthy family, he enjoyed the resources to pursue his interests in science, history, mathematics, and philosophy. Traveling extensively, he rubbed elbows with literary figures such as Zola and Flaubert, and with musical celebrities such as Franck and Saint-Saëns. Taneyev’s attitude towards the progressive composers and modern music of his day was not dissimilar from that of his older but longer-lived French contemporary, Saint-Saëns; both abhorred what they saw as unschooled, undisciplined dilettantism in any field of endeavor, but especially in music and the arts. When Tchaikovsky left his position at the Moscow Conservatory in 1878, Taneyev replaced him; during his tenure there, Scriabin, Rachmaninoff, Gliere, and Medtner, among others, benefitted from Taneyev’s teaching, though each went his own way once out from under his influence.
The five scherzos for solo piano on this CD, written between 1874 and 1875, are asterisked as being world premiere recordings. And grateful we should be to pianist Olga Solovieva and Naxos for outing them, for they are gem-like beauties, which, in melodic and harmonic vocabulary, are heavily indebted, according to note author Anastasia Belina, to Schumann and Tchaikovsky.
The major work on the program, Taneyev’s 1911 A-Minor Violin Sonata, carries the subtitle, “Of medium difficulty.” The piece was new to me, though there is another recent recording of it listed on the Northern Flowers label. Melodically, as well as in the close exchanges and echoing back and forth of material, the writing bears resemblances to the op. 12 violin sonatas of Beethoven, not surprising, given Taneyev’s Classical leanings and his touring with Auer. Based on the hearing of it—I don’t have the score—I’m fairly confident in saying that the piece is technically easier to play than the Beethoven sonatas. Filled with charming melodies for the violin and delightful effects in the piano part, Taneyev’s Sonata would make a wonderful work for any moderately advanced violin student.
Though Naxos is not claiming premiere recording status for the C-Major Theme and Variations, this is the only current listing I find for it. The piece is a student work dated 1874. Taneyev was 18 at the time and still under Tchaikovsky’s supervision. According to Belina’s note, Taneyev’s exercise was heavily influenced by Tchaikovsky’s “Thème original et variations,” the concluding number in his Six Pieces for Piano , op. 19, which appeared in 1873, the year before Taneyev wrote his work. Evidence in support of Belina’s contention comes in the form of a theme Taneyev borrowed from the finale of Tchaikovsky’s Second String Quartet as a counter-melody in the second variation. The transmigration from Tchaikovsky’s Quartet to Taneyev’s Variations must have happened at the speed of light, for both works were written at virtually the same time.
Of the remaining pieces on the disc for solo piano, the Quadrille is the most interesting and the longest at almost eight minutes. Careful listening reveals that Taneyev did not use the title flippantly or fancifully. He was too much of a stickler for correctitude. Technically and formally, a quadrille is an ancient and very complex dance that became all the rage, alongside the waltz craze, in 19th-century Vienna. If written according to the Viennese form, which Taneyev’s is, the dance is comprised of six sections: (1) an open rondo-form, the “Pantalon,” in 2/4 or 6/8 time; (2) the “Été,” always in 2/4; (3) the “Poule,” a closed rondo form, always in 6/8; (4) the “Trénis,” a mirrored binary form (A-B-B-A); (5) the “Pastourelle,” a modified rondo, always in 2/4; and (6) “Finale,” a double ternary form (AA-BB-AA) in 2/4 time in which each statement of the theme is eight bars in length. It’s fascinating to listen to the precision with which Taneyev adheres to the formal scheme in his whirligig Quadrille.
Finally, there is the Romance adapted for violin and piano from the composer’s song cycle, Immortelles . The appearance of the right-hand piano’s notes on the page is alleged to resemble the stalactites of the song’s title, “Stalaktitï.” While there is a static “dripping-tears” character to the piece, I wouldn’t put too much stock in the analogy, especially if you, like me, associate stalactites with the freakish icicle-like formations found in cold limestone caves. Taneyev’s Romance may be tearful, even sentimental, but it’s heartwarming in the same way that the fourth in the set of Dvo?ák’s Four Romantic Pieces , op. 75, is. In fact, Taneyev’s Romance bears a striking resemblance to the Dvo?ák.
This is a thoroughly winning disc. The more of Taneyev’s music I hear, the more I think he has been undeservedly eclipsed by the very dilettantes he despised. He wasn’t a Russian nationalist in the mold of the “Mighty Handful,” but his music may actually be better crafted than theirs; and, to me at least, it’s more appealing than that of some of his more renowned students. Ivan Peshkov is wonderful in the two violin works, and Olga Solovieva, as both soloist and accompanist, is one of the best advocates Taneyev has. Urgently recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Quantz: Four Concertos / James Galway, Jörg Faerber, Et Al
Quantz wrote about 300 concertos and 200 chamber works for the flute, more than Vivaldi did for his instrument, the violin and, I venture to guess, more than anyone else for any one instrument. Of course there were two good reasons for it: he was the premier flute virtuoso of his time and was well paid for his duties as flute teacher (with a bonus for each work he wrote) to Frederick the Great at Sanssouci, where the establishment included C. P. E. Bach—who was far less well rewarded. The four concertos recorded here confirm the why of it: Frederick's musical tastes were conservative and better satisfied by Quantz, who only half-released his grip on the Baroque, than by the often wildly experimental Bach. Quantz, faithful to the four-movement format in his trio sonatas, followed Vivaldi's three-movement, fast-slow-fast example in his concertos. His flanking movements commonly feature five appearances of the ritornello, from the material of which the solo episodes develop; there is little of counterpoint or sophistication of any kind. The thematic material is more galant than baroque, and what there is of the latter is redolent of Vivaldi, not least in the Allegro assai of the G minor Concerto.
These straightforward concertos, 'music for pleasure' as it were, spring no surprises—which no doubt pleased the king, and should likewise please today's lovers of cultured 'easy listening'. Galway is at his engaging best, economical with his very personal vibrato, caressing in the slow movements and sprightly in the fast ones. The Wurttemberg CO, with the friendly sound of the harpsichord nicely audible in this well-balanced recording, share Galway's virtues in these luculent and stylish performances.'
John Duarte, Gramophone [11/1991]
