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C.P.E. Bach: Sonatas for Keyboard & Violin / Podger, Bezuidenhout
Channel Classics · Apr 2023SACD$23.99 -
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Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No. 5 - Ravel: Piano Concerto in
Idil Biret Archive · Sep 2009CD$14.99 -
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SalePaderewski: Songs and Mélodies - Suite in G Major / Smolij, Adamski, Schmidt, Capella Bydgostiensis
Naxos · Sep 2021CD$19.99$9.99 -
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SaleBeethoven: Piano Sonata No 3; Ravel, Chopin / Arthur Rubinstein
ICA Classics · Mar 2013CD$14.99$11.99 -
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Sale4 Symphonies - Brahms, Dvorak, Sibelius, Nielsen / Dausgaard, Danish National Symphony Orchestra
C Major Entertainment · Jun 2012DVD$32.99$16.49 -
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Sale ★ GrammyKodály: Háry János Suite; Symphony in C / Falletta, Buffalo Philharmonic
Naxos · Oct 2023CD$19.99$9.99 -
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MOZART: THE COMPLETE PIANO SONATAS VOL. 3
Chopin / Ivo Pogorelich
Ivo Pogorelich has a special relationship with the piano music of the Polish Romantic composer Frédéric Chopin. It is Chopin, after all, whom he has to thank for his international breakthrough. When, at the age of 22, Pogorelich took part in the 1980 Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw, his exceptional playing caused an immediate sensation. Martha Argerich, who was on the jury, described him as a “genius”. Since that time, Pogorelich has been increasingly committed, on recording and in concert, to an image of Chopin that is far from the commonplace cliché of the brilliant and pleasing composer of salon music. Now Pogorelich once again offers completely new insights into Chopin’s world and the soul within the sound in what is in fact his fifth Chopin album, but the first for more than twenty years. He has selected works from the 1840s, the last decade of the Polish master’s life. These include the Nocturnes op. 48 no. 1 and op. 62 no. 2, the Fantasy op. 49 and Chopin’s third and last Piano Sonata, op. 58.
What Pogorelich admires in these works is Chopin’s ability to make the piano a gateway to the soul: “Chopin delivers an open invitation to penetrate human psychology. It’s a specific invitation to continually seek out and explore every possibility that the piano has to offer. That’s a never-ending process, and it will continue to challenge new generations of artists in the future too.”
The Croatian-born pianist traces a path in this recital that starts with the small form, continues by way of the brilliant Fantasy and finally reaches the large-scale, four-movement sonata form. In Pogorelich’s hands, despite their magical lyricism, the two Nocturnes have a gripping sense of tension and drama. The Fantasy in F minor, op. 49 is marked by a sombre mood of conflict, yet at the same time it reflects the improvisational skill for which Chopin was celebrated. With the Piano Sonata No. 3 in B minor, op. 58, the composer not merely bids farewell to this genre, with all its rich tradition. The work also demonstrates his efforts to create a new kind of sonata. And with Ivo Pogorelich this much-performed and popular piano work is transformed into an exciting new encounter with Frédéric Chopin.
REVIEW:
After a 20-year hiatus from the recording studio as regards Chopin, Croatian pianist Ivo Pogorelich (b. 1958) returns with an hour of deeply-thought, if eternally controversial, interpretations of some standard, late-Chopin repertory.
Pogorelich claims that “art is cruel,” that it often violently confronts our conventions and our complacency. Even if one does not subscribe to Antonin Artaud’s credo of art’s “theater of cruelty,” we must acknowledge that Pogorelich softens the blows with a wonderfully warm sonority and clarity of line.
If one is willing to concede that “depth of expression” compensates for or justifies hyperbolic slowness, then Pogorelich’s Fantasy in F Minor (1841) will appear a miracle of sustained intimacy, given its full three-minutes’ length beyond that of Claudio Arrau. The grim, martial opening will soon cede to national, Polish impulses in aristocratic contours, in mazurka and polonaise rhythms. Pogorelich becomes mesmerized by his own poetic filigree, so the musical thread loses a sense of dramatic continuity. Again, the luxury of the arpeggios and runs, high and low, mixed together with declamatory bass chords, proves haunting. In the middle section, Lento sostenuto, Pogorelich finds a drawn-out, poetic balance of improvisatory and ballade-like narrative. The last pages become a postlude or epilogue, very slow and deliberate, strumming their way into a vaporous coda.
Pogorelich’s way with Chopin last, published Nocturne in E (1846) feels better suited to his grand leisure: marked Lento, dolce sostenuto, the melodic line can bear the stretched, serpentine extension it receives, more like Berlioz than Chopin. The secondary theme in ascending, bass runs achieves C-sharp Minor and a series of syncopations that articulate Chopin’s advanced sense of polyphony. Pogorelich makes these rhythmic impulses more lyrical than their accustomed wont. We feel significantly alerted to Chopin’s trills and moving bass line, as the piece eventually assumes a modified rondo format. The music ends, or rather collapses, into the tonic and evaporates.
The last of Chopin’s three piano sonatas, this in B Minor (1844), receives the most improvisatory treatment in the program. The opening, Allegro maestoso, acquires a searching gravitas, alternately martial and nostalgic. Pogorelich milks the secondary theme in D, breaking its dreamy phrases to contrast with the quicksilver runs that provide a coda to the disparate fragments. That the movement ends in the tonic major seems artificial here, another spliced-on, poetic shard.
So far as improvisation occurs, the Scherzo: Molto vivace in E-flat Major from Pogorelich really proves the berries. He invests a liquid urgency into its eighth-note runs, while the chordal, B Major section projects reflective poise. Doubtless, all of Pogorelich’s slow tempos have been awaiting the B Major Largo movement, which now drags out a long, chain-link series of nocturnal thoughts in E Major. If the playing were not so intrinsically lyric, the progress would resemble a sweet dirge with tolling bells. The last movement, Finale: Presto non tanto, assuming the listener’s patience has endured, moves with a hard-won (after a lingering, high dominant 7th chord) gallop, a bit marcato for my taste, but at least moving with decisiveness, especially in the brilliant runs. The secondary theme in the relative B Major, hurls a sense of national pride at us, its left hand’s singing in the manner of a liberated etude. Pogorelich’s sonority gains the heroic high ground at last, thundering to a firm, B Major coda.
-- Audaud.com (Gary Lemco)
C.P.E. Bach: Sonatas for Keyboard & Violin / Podger, Bezuidenhout
The Baroque dream team of Rachel Podger and Kristian Bezuidenhout interpret the astonishing music of C.P.E. Bach’s Violin Sonatas in C Minor, B Minor, D Major and G Minor. The two early sonatas here from the 1730s resemble the older style of his father. Listening to these works, you can imagine J.S. Bach glancing over Emanuel's shoulders while he wrote them as a teenager at home in Leipzig. The later sonatas, written 30 to 50 years later, reveal an emancipated composer whose developed musical language embodies the 'Empfindsamer Stil', the directly emotional and rhetorical style characteristic of northern-german music of the time.
Rachel Podger writes: “It was wonderful to delve into the specific musical world that belongs to C.P.E. Bach for this recording with Kris. These violin sonatas are (quite unfortunately!) largely overshadowed by the classical Viennese sonatas of Mozart and Beethoven. Part of his genius is that he is full of surprises and unpredictable turns, and this was hugely enjoyable for me during the musical partnership with the wonderful Kristian Bezuidenhout.”
REVIEWS:
Rachel Podger and Kristian Bezuidenhout are performers of the highest level of technical polish, and I am especially impressed by Bezuidenhout’s imaginative and assertive pianism. Podger’s violin was built by the Genoese maker Antonio Pazarini (Pesarinius) in 1739. Excellent sound from Channel as usual.
-- American Record Guide
Across the later sonatas Kristian Bezuidenhout and Rachel Podger savor the qualities of coaxing, pleading, playfulness, and arresting quirkiness that signal their identification with the so-called Empfindsamer Stil. But nothing is ever cut and dried. The keyboard opening of the B minor Sonata, composed some three decades after its G minor cousin, sounds like a throwback to the teenage work. And, rich in Empfindsamer fingerprints, the Arioso with five variations proves to be a 1780 respray of an earlier work.
At one level, Bezuidenhout and Podger help to pinpoint the chronology, allotting a handsome-sounding copy of an 1805 Walther fortepiano to the later works and a Taskin-inspired harpsichord to the products of the 1730s. It’s just one example of the thoughtfulness with which they approach a set of performances that are as equally persuasive in the bustling, youthful incisiveness of the G minor and D major Sonatas, as in the pristinely-paced, probingly expressive whimsy of the Arioso. Their music-making is infectiously spontaneous yet tellingly ‘considered’ – seamless rapport and impeccably-judged articulation delighting in a stream of illuminating felicities. CPE Bach’s free-spirited sonatas have surely found their free-spirited match.
-- BBC Music Magazine
This is how it’s done, my friends. A completely scrumptious new release from the queen of the Baroque violin, Rachel Podger. In partnership with keyboardist Kristian Bezuidenhout, Rachel gives to us a bit over an hour of completely entrancing music by the often underestimated Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714–1788), fifth child and second surviving son of Johann Sebastian Bach.
There should be nothing underestimated about these keyboard and violin sonatas. They are imaginative, innovative, sublime. Add to this the impeccable performances, with that breath of life Rachel delivers so well in all of her performances, the excellent partnership with Kristian Bezuidenhout, and the utterly delightful recording quality from Jared Sacks, and one has an album to savor again and again. It is a must listen recording.
There is pure joy in Podger's performances, one feels her connection with music, the composer, and her audience. Kristian Bezuidenhout is her perfect partner in these works, As with Podger, his playing is not tied to a metronome. He plays, as does she, with a degree of improvisational exploration that makes these works far more interesting than in many other hands.
Listening to them together, one feels their connection in this music. I was particularly struck by this in their excellent performance of the Sonata in C minor which fairly danced with barely contained energy in the final Presto movement – their timing together is exquisite.
The shift from harpsichord to fortepiano and back again adds great interest to the recital. With the change in instruments, the texture of the sound changes. The balance of the violin and the keyboard shifts. Hard to accomplish in a live performance, but a delightful gift across the breadth of this recording.
-- Paul Rushton of Positive Feedback
Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No. 5 - Ravel: Piano Concerto in
Paderewski: Songs and Mélodies - Suite in G Major / Smolij, Adamski, Schmidt, Capella Bydgostiensis
Although Paderewski is more readily associated with his career as a legendary virtuoso pianist, his modest output of 70 orchestral, instrumental and vocal works deserves to be more widely known. Prominent among his vocal output is a series of early songs that reveal natural flowing patterns while exploring both melancholy and folk idioms. The Douze Mélodies, written at the end of his compositional career, is the most original and striking Polish set of songs of the period, notable for dissonance, chromaticism and a palette of rich and unusual musical colors, to which this orchestral arrangement adds a whole new dimension. Little known, the early Suite in G major offers youthful warmth and brio.
The Suite / Orlando Cela, Lowell Chamber Orchestra
Though there are thousands of languages and countless political differences across the world, people tend to come together through equally endless forms of music and dance. On THE SUITE, the Lowell Chamber Orchestra, under the direction of Orlando Cela, focuses the lens on the Baroque dance suite as a method of expression that’s ripe for international flavor, artistic individualism, and human storytelling. Suites by Georg Philipp Telemann and Johann Sebastian Bach examine the gallant style’s history and set the groundwork for modern interpretations. The Baroque vanguards pass the torch on to two contemporary composers, Anthony R. Green and Jose Elizondo, who shape and mold the style to match their own compositional artistry as they paint musical pictures of civil rights activism, heart-warming moments in the sun, and the passing of time. What results is an alchemical combination of the old and the new that not only celebrates the original Baroque form, but expands upon it with contemporary, cross-cultural flair.
SUITES BWV 1007-1012
FLORENCE PRICE: SYM NO. 3 MISSISSIPPI RIVER SUIT
Beethoven: Piano Sonata No 3; Ravel, Chopin / Arthur Rubinstein
BEETHOVEN Piano Sonata No. 3 in C, Op. 2/3 1. RAVEL Valses nobles et sentimentales 1. CHOPIN Nocturne in D?, Op. 27/2 1. Ballade No. 1 in g, Op. 23 1. Andante spianato et Grande Polonaise brillante, Op. 22 2 • Artur Rubinstein (pn) • ICA 5095 (73:00) Live: London 3/17/1963 1 and 10/6/1959 2
If ever there were a pianist who could be considered the aristocrat of the instrument for the 20th century it would surely be Artur Rubinstein, so full of intelligence, nobility, and remarkable simplicity are his interpretations. He was, above all else, a direct communicator of ideas. Throughout his career he always played to the audience, making them feel part of the show, of the whole experience itself; they in turn loved him for it. And though he was not always the most secure technician (in terms of playing the correct notes, not in terms of his overall musical interpretations) he is in especially fine form here.
His direct approach to the music can be witnessed from the very beginning of the recital. Rubinstein’s Beethoven was always interesting to me depending on the particular repertoire he was approaching—his recordings of the “Appassionata” Piano Sonata or the Fourth Piano Concerto are some of the pinnacles of the recorded performances that have been bequeathed to us in the 20th century. His Beethoven Third Sonata is good—it is straightforward; he has little fluctuation of tempo (though the forte outburst in the first movement at 0:25 does push it a bit); his articulation is crisp when required, and he brings a fine joie de vivre in this bright, but not always sunny C-Major work. There is something lacking for me, though—a tension, a drama that I find inherent in this work. Everything here is just too smooth. In Rubinstein’s Ravel there is a tinge (but just a tinge!) of the percussive quality of a Prokofiev: One can almost see Rubinstein’s grin as he lets the rest of us in on what he knows to be Ravel’s true intentions in this work. Too often are these waltzes performed in a flowery manner. The pianist’s approach is subtle in his carefully calculated tonal shadings and in his elegant way of always maintaining the sense of the beat, of the dance, which inspired one of this composer’s loveliest creations. Rubinstein is in especially fine form in Chopin—his composer. The D?-Major Nocturne is the crowning jewel in this recital: Once again everything that makes a Rubinstein performance special is in evidence here, from the continuous flow of the accompaniment to the way in which he approaches each and every phrase, from the highly lyrical to the highly ornamented. Anyone who questions Rubinstein’s mechanism needs to behold the ease in which he plays each and every note in the rapid flourishes that pervade this work. Not only are all of the individual notes crystal clear, each also has a beautiful ringing tone. The G-Minor Ballade was one of the pianist’s favorite works and he is in spectacular form here. He captures that wonderful sense of the narrative—not only can he make the piano sing, he can make it speak. Unfortunately there is an issue here. A sound anomaly mars this otherwise fantastic recording at around 8:30. The Andante spianato and Grand Polonaise act as encores, coming from a much earlier recital. Here too Rubinstein’s magical qualities come out in the ease in which he projects the gentleness of the nocturne-like introduction and the elegance of the dance that follows. It is not the most dynamic reading of the Polonaise I know, but it is powerful nonetheless.
The sound throughout the recording is fine given its vintage (other than the aforementioned issue in the Ballade). What is most remarkable about Rubinstein for me is his naturalness—there seems to be not even a strand of the eccentric in his playing. His Chopin will always remain a favorite because of its elegance, its straightforwardness, and its rejection of the picture of the composer as a frail and meek individual. His Chopin is timeless. His Ravel too is fascinating. In his hands the music retains its modern aura. This is one disc that you’ll be sure to want in your collection; I’m all too happy to make it part of mine.
FANFARE: Scott Noriega
Bach: Suites No 2, 3 And 6 / Maxim Rysanov
In the early days of CDs, it always was cause for special comment in reviews (and a high rating for sound!) whenever you came across a recording so realistic and natural it seemed as if the performer was right there in the room with you. This disc would have received that production accolade, and happily gets similarly high marks for its first rate, reference-quality performances.
This is certainly not the first time Bach’s suites for solo cello have been performed on viola–a perfectly natural adaptation and transposition, the viola strings identically configured, their tuning an octave higher than the cello–and while there’s no definitive version of the score, there are contemporary copies of these pieces that enable an arranger/adapter such as Simon Rowland-Jones (in this case) to create a performing edition that’s both faithful to Bach and idiomatic to the instrument in question.
And speaking of faithful, violist Maxim Rysanov plays with a respect for the score–no distracting affectations here!–but also distinguishing his interpretations with a well-considered assertiveness in tone and articulation that confirms the viola’s voice as, if not equal in depth and sheer sonic power to that of the cello, at least as technically impressive and musically satisfying. Rysanov performs these three suites on his 1780 Guadagnini viola, and proudly explains his decision to perform Suite No. 6, originally written for a five-stringed instrument, in its original key–D major–in spite of the difficulty this presents for a player on a four-string viola. (This same approach was successfully executed by violist Patricia McCarty in her viola-traversal of the cello suites for Ashmont several years ago–read review here).
That “up-close and realistic” digital sound we marveled at back in the 1980s often had one drawback, due to the newness of the technology, or simply to the ignorance or unawareness of the production team: along with the timbral realism of the strings or flute or piano or whatever came the presence of the equally, frighteningly natural breathing and wheezing and occasional humming and groaning of the performer, or the clicking and clacking of valves or keys, not to mention the squeaking and screeching of fingers sliding on guitar strings. Thankfully, although we do occasionally hear evidence of Rysanov’s physical, breath-taking existence, it’s minimally distracting (unless you choose to clap on the headphones and turn up the volume).
Rysanov recorded the other three suites for BIS on an earlier CD, and it’s clear that in these confident, exemplary readings he confirms these works as legitimate viola concert pieces rather than simply useful studies or “borrowed” material for an instrument short on its own substantive solo repertoire. In fact, in Bach’s own time and place, “authentic” Bach sometimes meant recycled, re-purposed Bach–keyboard concertos from violin concertos; mass movements from cantata movements; sacred works from secular ones. The idea of making transcriptions or arrangements of Bach is as old as the composer himself.
Many violists besides Rysanov have taken on the cello suites (in several different editions)–but of course this practice doesn’t stop with the viola: Bach made an arrangement of the C minor suite BWV 1011 for lute, and indeed the lute and guitar are the instruments of choice in many modern transcriptions. And the ready adaptability of these pieces to other instruments or ensemble forms isn’t confined to plucked and bowed strings–or even to the world of the traditional classical music stage. Let’s enjoy a great example, from the Gigue of the C major suite BWV 1009–an energetic, sometimes feisty little piece that brings out the livelier side of two very different interpreters: Rysanov with his solo viola, and the Swingle Singers of 1964. Whatever your preference, you have to agree–it’s Bach, and it works.
-- David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
4 Symphonies - Brahms, Dvorak, Sibelius, Nielsen / Dausgaard, Danish National Symphony Orchestra
4 SYMPHONIES • Thomas Dausgaard, cond; Danish Natl SO • C MAJOR 710508 (DVD: 168:00) Live: Copenhagen 2009
BRAHMS Symphony No. 1. DVO?ÁK Symphony No. 9. SIBELIUS Symphony No. 5. NIELSEN Symphony No. 3
If, as I did, you were to begin your examination of this release with disc 1, track 1 (the Brahms symphony), you might well conclude that there was little need to continue. There is something rather too cool and casual about Dausgaard’s interpretation of this powerful music. It lacks inner tension. There is not enough contrast between ideas. Accents are in the wrong places. Short notes are cheated of their value. And that’s not all. The second movement just plods on, the third is charmless, the fourth frantic and lurches from one tempo change to the next. Listening to the complete symphony several times could not induce me to alter my initial unfavorable observations. Adding visual insult to aural injury, sight and sound are not synchronized, and the difference between the two is disturbing, to put it mildly.
But then came the Nielsen symphony. What a difference! Right from the opening moments it had all the vigor and élan and determination lacking in the Brahms. Rhythms were tight and crisp. The music bristled with enthusiasm and commitment. The finale positively beamed with Elgarian nobility and breadth, rising to an absolutely thrilling climax. What a joy! Nielsen’s Third had hitherto never been one of my favorite symphonies, but Dausgaard nearly made it so in this performance.
Does Dausgaard work his magic on the two remaining works as well? The answer, I’m glad to say, is yes. Furthermore, the synchronization problem that affected the Brahms symphony is only minimal in the Nielsen and nonexistent in Dvo?ák and Sibelius. The “New World” Symphony receives one of the finest performances I have heard. Dausgaard’s approach is no romantic wallow but rather a clean, purposeful traversal filled with taut rhythms, precise attacks and releases, glowing sound, and architectural strength. Dausgaard likewise makes a strong case for the Sibelius Fifth, never allowing momentum to sag, carefully propelling the music forward with masterly control. I am particularly impressed with the ease in which he handles the tempo change for the second part of the first movement. By the time the grand climax of the finale arrives, one feels a great journey has been completed.
All four performances were recorded live in Copenhagen’s Koncerthuset in 2009. The personnel changes from symphony to symphony, but both principal horns, both principal trumpets, and both timpanists are star players. Generally the woodwinds are excellent, but violins seem a bit thin for an orchestra that is otherwise so assured and well balanced. However, the basses make up for this deficiency with their huge, rich sound, heard at its best at the quiet endings of three of the Brahms movements and in some of the more powerful moments of the Dvo?ák symphony. Aside from the basses, the orchestra plays with a bright sound, textures are clear and clean, balances are well controlled.
The camerawork is devoted about 20 percent of the time to Dausgaard and his facial contortions, 10 percent to views of the full orchestra from afar, and 70 percent to the business of jerking the viewer’s eyes from one instrumental close-up to another—two seconds of a horn player’s embouchure, a second of flute keys, two notes from the timpani, etc. Who determined that this is what we want to see? I find it annoying to the point where I simply can’t bear to watch.
On ArkivMusic the price for these four symphonies is $27 ($40 for the Blu-ray version)—just under $7 a symphony, a good buy even without the inferior Brahms symphony, especially for performances as fine as the other three.
FANFARE: Robert Markow
Haydn: String Quartets Nos. 1-3, Op. 33 / Chiaroscuro Quartet
“Gut strings and classical bows are also the tools of a captivating quest for sonority”, French magazine Diapason recently wrote to describe the Chiaroscuro Quartet. After Op. 20, Joseph Haydn’s first major string quartet cycle, and Op. 76, his last, the internationally renowned ensemble is now embarking on the Quartets Op. 33, dubbed the “Russian Quartets” and dedicated to the Russian Grand Duke Paul, the future Tsar Paul I. Having earned a reputation as eccentric and non-conformist, sometimes downright offensive, Haydn felt the need to write music more in keeping with the public’s lighter, more ‘popular’, less ‘scholarly’ tone, with a livelier sense of rhythm. And while there is comedy in some of the scherzos, it would be wrong to reduce these works to what some dour critics have called ‘comic fooling’.
In Quartet No 1 in B minor, the comedy is cerebral, often disturbing. This is certainly not the case in Quartet No 2 in E flat major, nicknamed “The Joke” because of the sparkling tarantella that concludes it. In Quartet No 3 in C major, “The Bird”, Haydn invites us to a veritable bird concert before concluding brilliantly with its persistent refrain inspired by a wild Slavic folk dance.
Kodály: Háry János Suite; Symphony in C / Falletta, Buffalo Philharmonic
Zoltán Kodály’s orchestral output is relatively small but brimming with Hungarian spirit. JoAnn Falletta and the Buffalo Philharmonic (BPO) present one of the composer’s most popular works, the Háry János Suite, alongside Summer Evening and the Symphony in C major. Falletta and the BPO’s acclaimed previous Kodály album is on 8573838.
REVIEW:
This is JoAnn Falletta’s second recording for Naxos of music by Kodály and it is every bit as fine as that earlier one. It includes two works which deserve greater exposure than they have received. It also contains Kodály’s most popular orchestral piece, the Háry János Suite. There have been plenty of excellent accounts of this suite, particularly by such Hungarian conductors as István Kertész and Iván Fischer. Falletta holds her own against those, even if none I have heard surpasses Kertész in this music, including his 1964 recorded sound.
The primary reason to get this CD is the rarely performed Symphony in C, a piece that Kodály worked on over a long period beginning in the 1930s and completing only in 1957. It is an attractive and well-orchestrated work with memorable themes and characteristic of Kodály in its harmony and rhythms.
There is plenty of detail to be savoured and at the same time good, but not excessive reverberation. Another fine production from Naxos.
-- MusicWeb International
Bach: Clavier Ubung Vol 1 / Benjamin Alard
Born in 1985, the French Alard is both an award-winning harpsichordist and organist who studied at the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis. At 25, he has already performed with leading period-instrument ensembles, such as La Petite Bande under Sigiswald Kuijken and Capriccio Stravagante under Skip Sempé, and he has established himself as a leading presence as a keyboard artist on the early-music scene, participating in a number of international festivals.
Going up against established masters in this repertoire—and for apples-to-apples comparison I cite only harpsichordists—such as Christophe Rousset, Pieter-Jan Belder, Ralph Kirkpatrick, Gustav Leonhardt, Trevor Pinnock, Igor Kipnis, and Blandine Verlet—the young Alard has stones; you’ve got to give him that. The question is does he have the goods to pull it off? And the answer, in a word, is “yes.”
The six keyboard partitas that comprise Part I of Bach’s Clavier-Übung (Keyboard Practice) in its totality are arguably the pinnacle of the composer’s works for solo harpsichord. Though they are among Bach’s earliest pieces to be published (they appeared in print between 1726 and 1730), they are actually the last of his three sets of keyboard suites to be written. (They were composed between 1725 and 1730–31.) The English Suites were composed sometime between 1715 and 1720, and the French Suites, between 1722 and 1725. We may therefore assume that the partitas are a summation, up to that time, of Bach’s compositional style and technique as applied to the harpsichord, for which they were written.
Speculation has it that Bach intended to write a seventh partita, perhaps as a tribute to his predecessor in Leipzig, Johann Kuhnau, who had published two volumes of his own Neue Clavier-Übung, each containing seven partitas. Bach’s choice of keys for his six partitas does suggest a planned seventh that would have had to be in F Major to complete the scheme; indeed, F Major is the key of the Italian Concerto that opens the Clavier-Übung, part II. Is it possible that the movements of the Italian Concerto would have been incorporated into the seventh, missing, partita? It’s an interesting theory.
In three out of the six partitas, Bach pretty much follows standard operating procedure vis-à-vis succession of movements. All six partitas, without exception, begin with an introductory movement, though fancifully, perhaps, Bach calls each by a different name: Praeludium, Sinfonia, Fantasia, Ouverture, Praeambulum, and Toccata. These are followed in Nos. 1, 3, and 5 by the customary stylized dance movements: Allemande, Courante (or Corrente, depending on whether Bach was in French or Italian mood), and Sarabande. Again, in all six partitas, one or more take-your-pick dance movements, such as Menuet, Gavotte, Passepied, etc., are inserted after the Sarabande. And in all but No. 2, the partitas end with the customary concluding Gigue. But No. 2, one of the three “irregulars,” ends with a movement Bach calls Capriccio, which is not in the usual 6/8 or 12/8 gigue meter, but in 2/4, so it’s not just another gigue by a whimsical name.
In the two remaining “irregular” partitas, Nos. 4 and 6, Bach gets cutesy with the standard layout of movements, inserting an Aria or Air in between the Courante and Sarabande, so that we end up with insertions both before the Sarabande and after it. To mix it up further, in No. 4, Bach calls his Courante by its French name, but the Aria that follows it by its Italian name; whereas in No. 6, he reverses himself, calling his Corrente by its Italian name and his Air by its French name. Whether this has some special significance or not, I don’t know, but is it too much to imagine that Bach wasn’t the stern wig he’s often portrayed as, and that he was just being mischievous? The aforementioned Capriccio movement offers ample evidence of the composer’s off-the-wall humor; it’s a real ear-tickler.
A final footnote to this whole business is that at one point the partitas came close to being called German Suites to complement the already written English and French Suites, which, technically speaking, are no more English or French, respectively, than are the partitas German. And who would know better than Christophe Rousset? Harpsichordist, Baroque music specialist, and Frenchman, he has observed that all of Bach’s keyboard suites follow a largely Italian convention.
Now, back in Fanfare 27:4, Patrick Meanor reviewed a recording of the partitas on the Satirino label performed by harpsichordist Kenneth Weiss. That was in 2004. Six years later, as inexplicably but often happens, the same album was sent to the magazine to be reviewed again, and this time, as recently as 33:5, it was assigned to Christopher Brodersen. The American-born Weiss has long been active on the Parisian period-instrument scene, having collaborated with William Christie and Les Arts Florissants for many years. In any case, both Meanor and Brodersen found much to rave about in Weiss’s readings, which the harpsichordist performs on a copy of a Gottfried Silbermann instrument built by Anthony Sidey. I missed Meanor’s earlier review, but based on Brodersen’s glowing account, I decided to acquire the Weiss on my own. Contra my colleagues, I found Sidey’s harpsichord, or Satirino’s recording of it, hard and metallic sounding and fatiguing to listen to. So, only in part for that reason, Weiss’s recording would not have received my recommendation had I reviewed it.
That is not the case with the sound of Alard’s harpsichord, which is also modeled after a German instrument by Sidey. It is captured perfectly at an ideal distance in the ambient and ever so slightly reverberant acoustic of the Chapelle Notre-Dame de Bon-Secours in Paris. Balanced throughout its registers, of crystal clarity in its voicing, and so dulcet of tone is this instrument that I found myself listening, enchanted, to all six partitas straight through without tiring of it.
If Meanor found Weiss’s performances “passionate,” “poignant,” “terrifying,” and “filled with existential dread,” I found them aggressive, driven, and in-your-face—other reasons, in addition to the aforementioned clangorous and clattering sound of the instrument, that Weiss is not to my liking. In contrast, I find Alard’s readings poetic, lyrical, filled with grace, and ultimately sublime. Perhaps it’s the difference between the American in Paris, Weiss, and the patrician elegance and refinement of the natural-born Frenchman, Alard.
In Alard’s playing, I hear a natural and logical connection to, and extension of, François Couperin and the French keyboard tradition, and I find it exquisitely beautiful. The style is manifested in Alard’s exceptionally imaginative, perfectly timed, and delightful agréments that he applies so tastefully in the binary repeats. Even in the fiendishly difficult Capriccio of the C-Minor Partita, which is already wacky enough as is with its oddball dissonances and harmonic excursions, Alard finds the time and space between the notes to add just the right zinger of an embellishment. Just listen to the mordents that trip by at 1:29 and again at 1:33 in the repeat of the A section. But there are other ways to embellish besides adding ornamental notes, and you can hear it in Alard’s playing of the repeated B section. Here the embellishing takes the form of coordinating the right and left hands differently than in the first time through, so that the syncopated and offbeat rhythms in the counterpoint take on a totally different emphasis.
The more I listened to these performances, the more I came to believe that there is as much genius in Alard’s conception of this music as there is in Bach’s creation of it. For me, this is now, and will be for the foreseeable future, the be-all and end-all of Bach keyboard partita recordings. The set is beautifully presented in a four-panel cardboard foldout with detailed, informative notes in French and English and enhanced by a wealth of photographs. If Weiss’s partitas show up on Brodersen’s 2010 Want List, Alard’s may well show up on mine. But whether it does or not (there are always hard choices to make), if you care about Bach on the harpsichord, you must not be without this release for another minute.
-- Jerry Dubins, FANFARE [9/2010]
Haydn: Complete Piano Trios, Vol. 3 / Trio Gaspard
As with the previous volumes in this series, Trio Gaspard has conceived a programme of contrasting trios that works as a standalone recital. The musicians have again included a contemporary work commissioned as part of the project – in this instance the world première recording of Kit Armstrong’s Revêtements. The earliest trio on the album – No. 12 – takes its form from the dance suite, with an opening allemande and concluding minuet framing a minor-key polonaise. Trio No. 19 which opens the programme features two contrasting movements in the same tonality – a spirited Vivace offset by a graceful minuet. The long and complex first movement of Trio No. 25 is followed by two shorter ones. Whilst the outer movements of Trio No. 43 sit firmly in C major, the A major central movement (with an extended central minor key section) displays yet another form of contrast. Trio Gaspard is regularly invited to major international concert halls across Europe and further afield. Highlights of the 2023 / 24 season will include a residency at Wigmore Hall, a performance of Beethoven’s ‘Triple’ Concerto with Uppsala Chamber Orchestra, and recitals in Firenze, Lucerne, Bern, Helsinki, Gateshead, and Heidelberg.
Joseph Szigeti: Complete Columbia Album Collection
Sony Classical is pleased to announce the release of a 17-CD box set collecting the recordings made between 1940 and 1956 for American Columbia by the renowned Hungarian violinist Joseph Szigeti.
Szigeti had a remarkable career. Born in 1892 in Budapest, where he studied with Jenő Hubay, one of most celebrated virtuosos and teachers of that golden era of violin playing, he was praised by the iconic German violinist Joseph Joachim at his Berlin debut in 1905; lived in London for several years following his acclaimed 1907 debut and played chamber music with, among others, Myra Hess and Ferruccio Busoni; was a frequent visitor after the war to the Soviet Union, where he introduced Prokofiev’s First Violin Concerto; made his triumphant American debut at Carnegie Hall under Stokowski in 1925; toured the world during the 1930s before finally settling in the US in 1940.
It was in that year that Szigeti renewed his friendship with fellow Hungarian émigré Béla Bartók, and in April the two gave a now-legendary recital in Washington which featured Bartók’s First Violin Rhapsody of 1928 – a work dedicated to and premiered by Szigeti in Europe. In May 1940, Columbia recorded their interpretation of this “vehicle for Szigeti’s biting and wholly magnificent fiddling” (MusicWeb International) in New York. That performance appears here for the first time on CD, along with another important work by Bartók, the classic first recording of his Contrasts for clarinet, violin and piano, written for and performed with Szigeti and Benny Goodman.
The rest of the new collection displays many more treasures of Szigeti’s passionate dedication to chamber music: in Bach, Handel, Tartini, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Dvořák, Debussy, Ravel, Bloch, Busoni, Prokofiev, Stravinsky and Henry Cowell, collaborating with such artists as Andor Foldes – another Hungarian émigré – as well as with Mieczyslaw Horzowski, Myra Hess, Pablo Casals and Igor Stravinsky.
There are, of course, major orchestral works represented in the new Szigeti edition, including two towering concertos in D major – the Brahms, recorded in 1945 with Eugene Ormandy conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra, and the Beethoven, recorded in 1947 with Bruno Walter and the New York Philharmonic (“an account of impassioned grandeur” – MusicWeb International) – along with Busoni’s early Violin Concerto in D major, recorded in 1954 with Thomas Sherman conducting the Little Orchestra Society. Szigeti’s numerous Bach concerto recordings for Columbia are here as well, conducted by Casals, Fritz Stiedry and George Szell.
As Nathan Milstein, one of his great colleagues, said in a touching tribute to Szigeti, who died in 1973: “He was an incredibly cultured musician. Actually, his talent grew out of his culture. … I always admired him, and he was respected by musicians.” In his late years, Joseph Szigeti finally got the appreciation he deserved from the general public as well. Sony Classical’s new collection his Columbia recordings, many never before released on CD at Sony Classical, can only further enhance that appreciation.
REVIEWS:
Joseph Szigeti (1892-1973) was the violinistic equivalent of a “kunst diva”, just as Gidon Kremer is today. He never had a particularly beautiful tone, while his bowing and intonation grew less dependable with age. Yet Szigeti never put a wrong musical foot forward. His phrasing communicated form, character, architecture, and astute harmonic awareness, with musical considerations always taking precedence over physical expediency.
Sony/BMG’s 17-CD collection of Szigeti’s complete Columbia Masterworks recordings stands out for exemplary remasterings that stem from the best possible source material. His intense yet thoughtful collaborations with Mieczyslaw Horszowski in Beethoven’s Sonatas Nos. 1, 5, 6, and 10 have never sounded so full-bodied and detailed as they do here. The same goes for the 1947 Beethoven Concerto, where the New York Philharmonic turns in firm and insightfully aligned playing under Bruno Walter’s direction. It contrasts to the conductor’s relatively casual and deferential backing in Szigeti’s 1932 recording, which, however, finds Szigeti on far better form.
Rehearing Szigeti’s 1949 Bach Sonata No. 3 in C major for violin solo reminded me just how much more fluent and controlled this performance is in comparison to the violinist’s relatively tenuous Vanguard remake. Likewise, his masterful 1940 account of the D minor concerto based on Bach’s keyboard concerto BWV 1052 is technically, musically, and sonically superior to the bloated 1950 reading under Pablo Casals’ direction. Szigeti’s Casals Festival contributions are admittedly uneven.
His collaborations with Béla Bartók, Igor Stravinsky, and Henry Cowell are both historically important and musically illuminating. Somehow the older Szigeti’s wiry tone imparts welcome character and tension to sonatas by Hindemith, Ravel, and Busoni, as well as the rarely heard Prokofiev solo sonata and Busoni concerto. It must be said, though, that the latter’s final scherzando-like passages are heavy going for the veteran violinist, as are the Busoni sonata’s overextended fugal sequences.
Listeners expecting suaveness and elegance in Brahms’ G major Op. 78 and D minor Op. 108 sonatas with Horszowski may wince at Szigeti’s tremulous and effortful execution. Still, he makes every note count, and the aching fragility that emerges from Op. 78’s outer movements and Op. 108’s deliberately unfolding third movement compels my undivided attention. Yet this Brahms D minor pales next to the power and authority of Szigeti’s great 78 rpm edition with pianist Egon Petri. As for the short encore-type pieces favored in the shellac era, Szigeti plays them dutifully rather than lovingly; he wasn’t a charmer like Kreisler, Elman, Milstein, or Ricci. Or Heifetz, for that matter.
The booklet includes full discographical data, an informative essay by Tully Potter, and Szigeti’s own notes for a 1970 Japanese reissue of his Schubert recordings. Even if just half of this collection represents Szigeti at his best, Sony/BMG’s comprehensive and meticulous production values deserve the highest accolades. In the meantime, a complete edition of Szigeti’s pre-war European 78s is long overdue.
-- ClassicsToday.com (Jed Distler)
The 31 works, from sonatas to chamber works to concertos, span Bach and Beethoven to Debussy, Ravel, Busoni and Henry Cowell. Bartók is pianist in his own Rhapsody No 1 for Violin and Piano. All the Brahms, including the Trio No 2 in C major with Hess and Casals, is to treasure. Szigeti plays Dvořák with grace and melancholy, and gives bite and attack to Stravinsky. The style may be redolent of another era, yet still this playing speaks to us.
– Guardian (UK)
This is a quite wonderful set, one of the highlights being an all-Busoni disc, the Second Sonata with Mieczysπaw Horszowski and the Violin Concerto with the Little Orchestra Society under Thomas Sherman. No one listening could fail to grasp the profound level of Szigeti's musical understanding.
– Gramophone
SET CONTENTS
DISC 1:
Bartók: Violin Rhapsody No. 1, Sz.87 (Remastered)
Bartók: Contrasts for Clarinet, Violin and Piano, Sz.111
Bloch: Three Pictures of Chassidic Life for Violin and Piano (Remastered)
Milhaud (arr. Lévy): Saudades do Brasil, Op. 67: No. 9, Sumare (Remastered)
Falla (arr. Levy): El Sombrero de Tres Picos, Parte I, Danza de la molinera (Remastered)
Mozart: Divertimento No. 15 in B-Flat Major, K. 287, "2. Lodronsche Nachtmusik" (Remastered)
DISC 2:
Mussorgsky-Rachmaninoff: Sorochintsy Fair, Act III: No. 5, Gopak (Remastered)
Dvorák (arr. Kreisler): Slavonic Dance in E Minor, Op. 46, No. 2 (Arr. in G Minor) (Remastered)
Dvorák (arr. Kreisler): Slavonic Dance No. 3 in A-Flat Major, Op. 46, No. 3 (Arr. in E Minor) (Remastered)
Hubay: Scènes de la Csárda No.4, Op. 32, "Hejre Kati", I. Lento ma non troppo. Allegro moderato (Remastered)
Hubay: Scènes de la Csárda No.4, Op. 32, "Hejre Kati", II. Allegro molto (Remastered)
Kodály (arr. Szigeti): Háry János Suite, IZK 26: V. Intermezzo (Remastered)
Brahms: 21 Hungarian Dances for Orchestra, WoO 1: No. 5 in G Minor (Remastered)
Debussy: Violin Sonata No.3 in G Minor, L. 140 (Remastered)
Hubay: The Zephyr, Op. 30, No. 5 (Remastered)
Schubert, Francois: Bagatelle Op. 13, No. 9, "Die Biene" (Remastered)
Stravinsky: Duo Concertant for Violin and Piano
Stravinsky: Pastorale, Song without Words for Violin & Woodwind Quartet
Stravinsky: Russian Maiden's Song
DISC 3:
Beethoven (Cadenza: Joseph Joachim): Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 61
DISC 4:
Brahms: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 77
Brahms: Violin Sonata No.3 in D Minor, Op.108: II. Adagio
DISC 5:
Beethoven: Violin Sonata No.1 in D Major, Op. 12, No. 1 (Remastered)
Schubert: Violin Sonata in D Major, D.384
Schubert (arr. Friedberg): Piano Sonata No.17 in D Major, D.850: IV. Rondo. Allegretto moderato (Remastered)
Beethoven: Violin Sonata No.7 in C Minor, Op. 30, No. 2 (Remastered)
DISC 6:
Prokofiev: Violin Sonata No.1 in F Minor, Op. 80 (Remastered)
Prokofiev: Violin Sonata No. 2 in D Major, Op. 94bis (Remastered)
DISC 7:
Bach, J.S.: Violin Sonata No. 3 in C Major, BWV 1005
Bach, J.S. (arr. Reitz): Keyboard Concerto No. 1 in D Minor, BWV 1052
DISC 8:
Schubert: Fantaisie for Piano & Violin in C Major, Op.Posth. 159, D. 934
Corelli (arr. H. Leonard): Violin Sonata in D Minor, Op.5 No.12 "La Folia" (Variations Serieuses)
Debussy (arr. Roelens): Suite bergamasque, L. 75: No. 3. Clair de lune
Lalo (arr. Szigeti): Aubade from "Le Roi d'Ys" (Act III)
Tchaikovsky: 6 Pieces, Op. 51: No. 6, Valse sentimentale
Bach, J.S. (arr. Szigeti): Violin Partita No.3 in E Major, BWV 1006: VI. Bourrée (Remastered)
DISC 9:
Bach, J.S.: Concerto for Flute, Violin and Keyboard in A Minor, BWV 1044 (Remastered)
Bach, J.S.: Violin Concerto No. 1 in D Minor, (arr. BWV 1052/1056) (Remastered)
Bach, J.S.: Brandenburg Concerto No. 5 in D Major, BWV 1050
DISC 10:
Schubert: Rondo in B Minor for Piano and Violin, D.895 (Op.70) "Rondeau brillant"
Beethoven: Violin Sonata No.10 in G Major, Op. 96 (Remastered)
Schubert: Violin Sonata in A Major, Op. 162. D. 574 "Grand Duo" (Remastered)
DISC 11:
Brahms: Piano Quartet No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 60
Brahms: Piano Trio No. 2 in C Major Op. 87
DISC 12:
Cowell: Sonata No. 1 for Violin and Piano (1945) (Remastered)
Shapero: Sonata for Piano Four Hands (1941) (Remastered) (Harold Shapero, piano; Leo Smit, piano)
Cowell: Celestial Vision: How Old Is Song? (Remastered)
DISC 13:
Beethoven: Violin Sonata No.5 in F Major, Op. 24 "Spring"
Beethoven: Violin Sonata No. 6 in A Major, Op. 30, No. 1
DISC 14:
Bach, J.S. (arr. Szigeti): Violin Concerto in G Minor, BWV 1056 (Remastered)
Handel: Violin Sonata in D Major, HWV 371 (Remastered)
Tartini (Cadenzas: Szigeti): Violin Concerto in D Minor, D. 45 (Remastered)
Tartini: Violin Sonata in G Major, B. G19 (Remastered)
DISC 15:
Ravel: Violin Sonata No.2 in G Major, M. 77
Hindemith: Violin Sonata in E Major (1939)
Prokofiev: Sonata for Solo Violin in D Major, Op. 115 (Remastered)
Prokofiev: Five Melodies for Violin and Piano, Op. 35bis (Remastered)
DISC 16:
Busoni: Violin Concerto, Op.35a, BV 243
Busoni: Violin Sonata No.2, Op.36a, BV 244
DISC 17:
Brahms: Violin Sonata No.1 in G Major, Op. 78 "Regen" (Remastered)
Brahms: Violin Sonata No.3 in D Minor, Op.108 (Remastered)
