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SaleSgambati: Sinfonia festiva; Piano Concerto / Damerini, La Vecchia, Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma
Naxos · Dec 2023CD$19.99$13.99 -
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Rolla: Viola Concertos, Symphony in D & Tantum ergo / Schiavo, Vitale, Braconi, Il Demetrio
Brilliant Classics · Feb 2019CD$13.99 -
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Bruno Walter Conducts Bruckner's 4th And 9th Symphonies
Music and Arts Programs of America · Jul 2012CD$32.99 -
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Copland: Orchestral Works, Vol. 3 - Symphonies / Wilson, BBC Philharmonic
Chandos · Jan 2018SACD$21.99 -
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Bruckner 11 - Complete Symphonies, nos. 00-9 / Thielemann, Wiener Philharmoniker
UNITEL Edition · Sep 2023Blu-Ray$102.99 -
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SaleMozart: 'Posthorn' Serenade; Gallimathias Musicum / Mardirossian, CCPO Pardubice
Brilliant Classics · Aug 2024CD$12.99$9.99 -
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Debussy: Nocturnes - Franck: Symphony / Celibidache, Munich Philharmonic
MUNCHNER PHILHARMONI · Aug 2024CD$22.49 -
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SaleViotti: Violin Concerto No. 22; Cherubini: Symphony In D
Brilliant Classics · Feb 2024CD$13.99$10.99 -
Haydn: Symphonies 35, 38, 39, 49, 58, & 59 / Solomons, L'Estro Armonico
CBS Masterworks · Jul 2010CD$24.99 -
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Mozart: Klavierkonzerte No 22 & 23 / Barenboim, Kubelik, Bavarian Radio Symphony
BR Klassik · Apr 2010CD$19.99 -
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Schumann: Symphonies 1 & 4 / Roth, Cologne Gurzenich Orchestra
Myrios Classics · Sep 2020SACD$21.99 -
FARRENC: SYMPHONIES NOS. 1-3 OVERTURES 1 & 2
Sgambati: Sinfonia festiva; Piano Concerto / Damerini, La Vecchia, Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma
Between 1879 and 1880, as he approached his 40th birthday, Giovanni Sgambati completed his Piano Concerto in G minor, a work on which he had been working for about two years. It was a significant moment for Italian instrumental music: it was, in fact, the first Romantic piano concerto by a composer from the country that had given the world both the instrument, invented by Cristofori almost two centuries earlier, and the genre itself.
The Piano Concerto displays an assured compositional hand. It constitutes not only a new beginning for Italian piano music but also a synthesis of the possibilities offered by the genre. An extremely difficult work to play, it is not immediately accessible on a first hearing, given the density of its material, but reveals more about Sgambati’s inventiveness and technical mastery every time you listen to it.
The Sinfonia festiva (Ouverture de fête) was composed in 1878 or 1879, making it contemporaneous with the Piano Concerto and proof of Sgambati’s growing dedication to orchestral music. It is a short but mature work, confidently written, clearly inspired by the dance-like character of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. Three main themes, the first lean and lively, the second more lyrical, the third impudent and leaping, are organized according to the principle of sonata form, with a development section in which the initial motif pops up time and again, wandering between tonalities, sometimes giving the impression of formal freedom, sometimes of obeying rondo form.
REVIEW:
A pupil of Liszt, Giovanni Sgambati (1841-1914) stood out among 19th-century Italian pianists for his advocacy of the German school and classical models. His massive three-movement Piano Concerto in G minor (1880) might be described as a hybrid that fuses the similarly scaled Brahms D minor concerto with piano writing marked by Lisztian bravura.
Imagine Liszt reworking the echt-Hungarian finale of Brahms’ Violin Concerto for piano on his own stylistic terms, and you’ll get an idea of what Sgambati’s third movement sounds like. Similarly, the grandiose first movement owes much of its existence to the arpeggiated flourishes in Beethoven’s Emperor concerto first movement and motives from Liszt’s Hungarian Fantasy.
Recorded live in 2013, the (late) pianist Massimiliano Damerini handled the daunting piano part with brilliance and confidence. He positively opens up and thrives in front of an audience.
Both conductor and orchestra make a splendid case for the delightful Sinfonia festiva (‘Ouverture de fête’), presented in its world premiere recording here.
-- ClassicsToday.com (Jed Distler)
Rolla: Viola Concertos, Symphony in D & Tantum ergo / Schiavo, Vitale, Braconi, Il Demetrio
As both conductor at La Scala from 1802 to 1833, and a professor at the new conservatoire in Milan, Alessandro Rolla (1757-1841) was the heartbeat of Milanese music in the turbulent early decades of the 19th century. He was also an accomplished performer on both violin and viola, and his own compositional output reflects his instrumental mastery, filtered through his experience of leading the Italian premieres of quartets and symphonies by Beethoven as well as operas by Mozart: he was a complete musician of his time. The F major Viola Concerto opening this attractive new album belongs to Rolla’s apprentice years in service to the ducal court at Parma. With its uncompromising technical demands and unwavering focus on the solo instrument, the concerto represents a missing link between the idioms of Tartini and Paganini. The dawn of bel canto may be discerned in the slow movement of the album’s concluding D minor Viola Concerto, which concludes with a charmingly bucolic Rondo. Dating from Rolla’s Milanese years, the 1805 Tantum ergo also features a concertante role for the viola, in sinuous accompaniment to the vocal bass soloist: a highly original device perhaps prompted by Mozart’s famous Sinfonia Concertante. As a performer, Rolla reserved the most haunting melodies and moments for himself: After a vocal cadenza on the closing Amen it is the viola that sets the seal on the work with an intensely lyrical phrase and a brilliantly virtuosic stretta. The D major Sinfonia likewise belongs to the first decade of the 1800s – infused with Rossinian verve and bubbling with operatic drama in the quick outer movements. The Milanese violist Simonide Braconi plays Rolla’s music to the manner born, being the long-standing principal violist at La Scala. He is accompanied here by a chamber orchestra based in nearby Pavia and specialising in Classical-era works by neglected composers.
Bruno Walter Conducts Bruckner's 4th And 9th Symphonies
BRUCKNER Symphonies: No. 4; 1 No. 9. 2 MOZART Symphony No. 35 in D “Haffner” 3 • Bruno Walter, cond; 1 NBC SO. 2 Philadelphia O. 3 New York PO • MUSIC & ARTS CD-1262 (2 CDs: 127:30) Live: 1 02/10/1940, 2 02/28/1948, 3 02/06/1944
Having recently obtained an extensive collection of acetates from the estate of a private music collector, the Music & Arts label is issuing some fruits of that here in the form of live performances by Bruno Walter. Two items—the Bruckner Ninth and the Mozart “Haffner” symphonies—are previously unissued items; the Bruckner Fourth was released on Pearl GEMM CD 9131 but here enjoys slightly but tangibly superior sound. While still constricted, it is tolerably listenable by the standards one would expect for a recording of that vintage. Here the weak bass register is noticeably stronger and clearer, background hiss is slightly reduced, occasional fluctuations in pitch have been evened out, and assorted clicks and pops and similar extraneous noises excised or reduced. However, the Pearl release is still not superfluous, as this issue does not include the filler pieces by Weber and Smetana (the overtures to Oberon and The Bartered Bride ).
While none of these items is, strictly speaking, a novelty in the Walter discography, the performance of the Bruckner Fourth preserved here is of particular interest to both Brucknerians and Walterians. The Walter discography contains only two versions of this score: the live one presented here, and the conductor’s studio recording with the Columbia Symphony Orchestra, recorded from February 13-25, 1960. (The discography of the CSO is complex, because Columbia used that moniker for several different studio orchestras in various locales. In Walter’s case, the monaural recordings are with a reduced contingent of the New York Philharmonic and other local musicians, while his stereo recordings are with a core ensemble drawn from the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Los Angeles Festival Orchestra, supplemented by members of various Hollywood film studio orchestras.) The Sony SMK 64 481 issue of the studio performance is presently available—as are most of the titles in Sony’s erstwhile “Bruno Walter Edition”—as an ArkivMusic reprint.
What is most remarkable is how radically Walter’s conception of this piece changed over 20 years, with the respective timings providing an initial indication: 16:32, 14:32, 8:27, and 18:32 versus 18:40, 15:37, 10:59, and 20:46. Walter does use different editions of the score—the 1888-89 Löwe/Guttmann version in 1940, and the 1936 Haas edition of the 1878/80 version in 1960. (For the 1960 recording I am taking the word of John F. Berky on his abruckner.com discography site over that of Sony, which states in its CD booklet that Walter used the 1953 Nowak edition.) However, this in no way accounts for the differences, as most of them are matters of instrumental detail (e.g., the radically reduced orchestration in the Scherzo at 8:13-8:16 in the 1940 performance as compared to the same passage at 8:20-8:23 in the 1960 recording) rather than cuts in the score. Instead, Walter’s earlier interpretation is far more volatile, not only in terms of significantly faster tempi but also in more generous use of accelerandi and other tempo modifications. For example, in 1940 there is an adrenaline rush on an ascending scale from 1:41 to 1:52 not employed in 1960, while in the fourth movement the 1940 performance takes only a mild ritardando at 8:13 to 8:16 but in 1960 a very emphatic one in the same passage at 8:20 to 8:23. In 1940 the Scherzo movement is taken at an exceptionally brisk pace, whereas in 1960 it is stately, with the trio section being positively languorous. Similarly, whereas in 1960 Walter squares off phrases in the more emphatic manner common to most Bruckner performances nowadays, demarcating discrete units as aural equivalents of the giant stone blocks used to construct Gothic cathedrals, in 1940 the phrasing is noticeably more fluid and linear, particularly in woodwind runs that ripple like rapidly flowing rivulets (cf. at 15:24 in the first movement). How much these changes owe to the oft-noted differences in Walter’s recordings made before and after his March 1957 heart attack, and how much they may owe to the conductor possibly seeking to elaborate greater distinctions between his approaches to Bruckner and Mahler, can only be a subject of speculation. In any case, in these respects the 1940 performance is akin to the relatively few complete Bruckner symphony performances that survive from before WW II, and suggest an earlier school of performance which is now well-nigh extinct. Both for that reason, and for the intriguing snapshot of how Walter’s interpretation of this piece shifted over the years, this recording is of particular interest for collectors of historical performances.
The companion performance in this set of the Bruckner Ninth lacks the same degree of intrinsic value, in that there are eight surviving recorded performances from Walter’s baton, variously given with the New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra, Vienna Philharmonic, Los Angeles Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. The table below provides details for comparison. In this and the succeeding tables, if a particular performance has appeared more than once on CD, I have cited the best version currently in print; studio recordings are marked with an asterisk. For the timings in this instance, I have used those provided by Mark W. Kluge in his notes to the 2003 Music and Arts release of the 1946 performance, except for the 1948 and 1950 performances not listed by him.
FANFARE: Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings
03/17/46 NYP Music & Arts CD-1110 21:42 9:37 19: 42
02/28/48 PO Music & Arts CD-1262 21:19 9:43 19:28
02/02/50 NYP none (private collection) 20:12 9:55 19: 15
08/20/53 VPO Andromeda ANDRCD 9092 21:10 10:09 19:17
12/27/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571 20:32 10:09 19:46
02/10/57 NYP Music & Arts CD-1212 19:59 10:01 19: 14
11/13/59 LAP none (private collection) 22:30 10:53 21: 58
11/16-19/59 CSO Sony SMK 64 483* 23:51 11:29 23:16
As Kluge rightly states in the booklet notes to the 2003 disc of Walter’s 1946 performance, “Walter’s live performances of the Ninth Symphony preserved on tape show a certain consistency, varying in individual nuance rather than interpretive outline”. In the booklet notes to the present release he further observes, “All of his live performances of the score display certain common interpretive details,” of which he provides several examples, such as “the very precise (almost clipped) brass interjections in the opening bars.” Unremarked upon by Kluge, except for a passing observation that the studio account “lacks the fire of Walter’s live performances,” is the extraordinary speed and drive of Walter’s conception of the work, which in the pre-1959 performances clocks in at between 49:22 (the fastest recorded performance by any conductor) and 51:01. Among the almost 400 complete performances listed in the abruckner.com discography, only Volkmar Andreae, Jascha Horenstein, Georg-Ludwig Jochum, Roger Norrington, plus (amazingly) John Barbirolli and Hans Knappertsbusch, have timings within three minutes of Walter. This work alone gives the lie to the stereotype of Walter as a cushy, gentle interpreter given solely to Gemütlichkeit rather than Sturm und Drang.
Despite their overall similarity, the pre-1959 performances do not suffer from lack of variety or interest. With the exception of the live 1959 performance, which stems from a relatively poor source, the sound quality improves incrementally with the more recent performance date, though the sonic differences between the three performances from 1953-57 are rather minimal. For me, the key factor in evaluating the first six performances is Walter’s approach to and follow-through from the fortissimo recapitulation of the first theme of the opening movement, beginning at about halfway through the movement. For the approach to the recapitulation, the recap itself, and the section immediately thereafter, Walter demarcates each of the three sections with a marked caesura and tempo adjustment. There are noticeable differences to how he does this in several of the performances; although these may simply be differences of the moment, they suggest instead that he was not entirely satisfied with his handling of these sections and was constantly searching for new and better solutions. I find the 1946 performance to be the least satisfactory; as the timing of the first movement indicates, Walter there inserts greater pauses and slows down each section more than usual, causing the whole to lose coherency and momentum and to bog down. Walter also takes two major ritardandi early on, at 1:55 and 3:00, that he drops after the 1948 Philadelphia performance, which has a similarly hobbling effect. (For a more positive response, see Robert McColley’s review back in 26:6.) By contrast, the unreleased 1950 performance is the most successful, having a fierce energy and the least pronounced breaks and tempo deceleration.
The three performances from 1948 and 1953 occupy a middle ground between these extremes; here the differences are to be found more in the distinctive timbres of the respective orchestras. In his booklet notes to the 1946 performance, Kluge states that “the warmer style of the Vienna Philharmonic added a sense of plasticity and nuance not as evident in the later [1953] New York performance,” given the latter orchestra’s “virile, even aggressive playing style.” I would agree, but I find a certain slackness present in the Vienna performance as well, and its recorded sound is slightly more recessed. Comparing the New York and Philadelphia ensembles in the present booklet notes, Kluge correctly finds “a contrast in style between the two ensembles. The Philharmonic sonority is bold and brassy, making the most of Bruckner’s dramatic climaxes. However the Philadelphia ensemble, even in its first encounter with the score, adds a patina of refinement”—due no doubt to the orchestra’s fabled string section. Finally, in 1957 Walter attempts a hybrid solution that combines pronounced Luftpausen with his briskest tempi, a solution I prefer to all but the 1950 performance (see also the positive review by Jeffrey J. Lipscomb in 32: 3).
The two 1959 performances are, as their timings indicate, of a very different character—ultimately no less dramatic, but more monumental and in line with the mainstream of Bruckner interpretations, while also evincing the more rounded edges of Walter’s trademark lyricism in other repertoire. Given both the relatively poor sound of the preceding live performance, and some ill-fitting junctures in it that suggest Walter’s new interpretation not to be fully settled, the studio recording is easily preferable between those two. Along with the 1957 performance—and that of 1950, for those few who can find it from private sources—the studio recording is also one of the top choices for Brucknerians who want Walter represented in their collections.
Despite Walter’s intense devotion to Bruckner following his recovery from a near-fatal bout of double pneumonia in 1927 (Walter credited his convalescence with giving him the spiritual repose needed to comprehend Bruckner rightly), many commentators have regarded his studio Bruckner recordings, especially that of the Ninth, as relative weak points in his discography. Devoted Walterian that I am, I nevertheless agree with that assessment; Walter never mastered the timing of the numerous pauses in Bruckner’s symphonic movements, and choosing the manifold subtle shifts in tempi needed to make the sprawling movements cohere, to the same degree as did Wilhelm Furtwängler and Eugen Jochum, my own Bruckner reference standards. Part of the fault here, however, lies not with Walter but with Columbia’s miscalculated decision to use an orchestra of only 65 players for the recording sessions—possibly due to a degree of parsimony, but also because the extremely lively acoustics of Legion Hall would have caused a full-sized orchestra to be swamped with reverberation. The fact that Walter almost fully succeeds in disguising the paucity of string players and producing a genuine Brucknerian orchestral sound testifies to near-miraculous conductorial skills.
The 1948 performance of the Bruckner Ninth in Philadelphia was paired in concert with a performance of Mozart’s “Haffner” Symphony. Since only the Bruckner was broadcast for a one-hour time slot, the performance of the Mozart was not preserved. In its stead, Music and Arts has thoughtfully provided a previously unreleased 1944 New York Philharmonic broadcast of the work. Mozart occupies a large and special place in Walter’s discography. In terms of frequency of surviving performances, the “Haffner” has seven recordings—five live and two studio, with the NBC Symphony, Boston Symphony, New York Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. It thus ranks behind No. 40 (eleven performances, eight live and three studio) and No. 39 (eight recordings, five live and three studio), and is tied with the “Prague” (seven recordings, four live and three studio). The following table again provides details for comparison; note that Tahra misdates the 1953 performance to January 5 instead of January 4.
Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings
02/17/40 NBC SO Andromeda ANDRCD 9012 5:02 4:31 3:10 3: 33
02/06/44 NYP Music and Arts CD-1262 5:15 4:44 3:16 3: 33
01/21/47 BSO Wing WCD 58 (Japan) 5:11 4:29 3:17 3:37
02/05/50 NYP none (private collection) 5:33 5:05 3: 25 3:43
01/04/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571-572 5:29 4:54 3:33 3:55
01/16/53 NYP Sony SMK 64 473* 5:27 4:44 3:21 3:46
01/13-21/59 CSO Sony SM3K 46 511* 5:58 5:13 3:49 4:04
Here one notes that until the final, post-heart attack, stereo recording, Walter’s interpretive approach remains remarkably consistent, broadening very slightly in tempi with the passing years. As before, sound quality generally improves in successive performances, save for the decidedly poor-sounding Boston Symphony issue and the somewhat tubby sound of the unedited source for the 1950 performance. Yet here, too, there are subtle differences, with the 1944 performance under review being the most distinctive. At 1:15 in the first movement, Walter slows the tempo for the lyrical counter-subject to a far greater degree than elsewhere, and likewise beginning at 4:40 accelerates the tempo to a far greater degree to provide a whirlwind close. Not unexpectedly from an ensemble drilled under Toscanini, the NBC performance features particularly strong, crisp accents on chords and fluid runs on strings and winds. The live 1953 performance has a higher voltage than the studio recording that followed it, though it suffers from a rather glassy, shrill treble register (for a different opinion on the last point, see Mortimer H. Frank’s review in 14:4). The stereo recording has of course by far the best sound, but its slower tempi drain it of the vitality characteristic of Walter’s earlier performances. The 1944 performance is in surprisingly good sound for its time, and I would rate it alongside the two 1953 versions as the best of his performances of this work.
The remasterings of the original sources have obviously been done with the meticulous care that marks all Music and Arts issues. Mark Kluge’s booklet notes are exemplary; they include a brief discussion of recent Bruckner scholarship that defends the Löwe/Guttmann edition of the Fourth as one genuinely authorized by Bruckner rather than riding roughshod over his true intentions, and also discuss Walter’s various retouchings of the timpani and brass parts in different performances of the Ninth. (Kluge does not discuss the 1950 performance, but the excision of the trombone parts from certain passages of the Scherzo that occurs in the 1957 and 1959 performances also occurs there, though curiously not in the intervening ones from 1953.) The booklet and tray card have a typographical error that gives the total time of the second disc as 50:30, which is the timing of the Bruckner Ninth alone; the correct total time is 68:20. For Walterians, this release is self-recommending; for Brucknerians and collectors of historic performances, it will be of interest primarily for the Bruckner Fourth, and secondarily for the “Haffner” and the Ninth. To each of these interested parties, this release is warmly recommended.
James A. Altena
Sowerby: The Paul Whiteman Commissions & Other Early Works
This is a delightful, even astonishing release... A valuable missing piece in the early discourse between jazz and classical music.
Evoking the Roaring Twenties, Chicago composer Leo Sowerby’s engaging and ingenious Synconata (1924) and Symphony for Jazz Orchestra (“Monotony”) (1925), critically praised for their distinctive harmony, counterpoint, and humor, receive world-premiere recordings by Chicago bandleader-trombonist Andrew Baker and his Andy Baker Orchestra, making their Cedille Records debuts. Sowerby was among the leading young American classical composers commissioned by celebrity bandleader Paul Whiteman to create fresh repertoire for his landmark series of “symphonic jazz” concerts — a roster that also included George Gershwin, Ferde Grofé, and Zez Confrey. The same Jazz Age concerts that saw the premieres of Sowerby’s Synconata and Symphony for Jazz Orchestra also launched Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue into America’s consciousness. The program also includes Sowerby chamber works from the same period: his Serenade for String Quartet and the world-premiere recordings of his String Quartet in D minor and Tramping Tune for piano and strings, all performed by the Avalon String Quartet, an ensemble “prizing grace, charm and elegance” (WQXR Radio). Joining the Avalon in Tramping Tune are pianist Winston Choi, head of the piano program at Roosevelt University’s Chicago College of Performing Arts, and Alexander Hanna, principal double-bassist of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The album was recorded by the Grammy Award-winning team of producer James Ginsburg and engineer Bill Maylone.
REVIEWS:
This is a delightful, even astonishing release. It contains early works by Leo Sowerby, the most popular composer of church music in the 20th century USA. The two largest items here were composed for Paul Whiteman’s (of Rhapsody in Blue fame) jazz band. They are extraordinarily appealing. The first, called Synconata, is a single movement “overture” full of memorable ideas. It may not be as melodically distinctive as Gershwin, who was a great song-writer first and foremost, but it certainly passes the time entertainingly.
This is even more the case with the Symphony for Jazz Orchestra, given the eyebrow-raising title “Monotony” (!). Don’t worry. The music is anything but. The title comes from the original circumstances of its first performances, as a sort of theatrical art piece featuring a huge metronome front and center. Both of these scores had to be reconstructed by Andy Baker for the present disc, and he inspires his musicians to give loving, dedicated interpretations, captured in perfectly balanced, tactile sonics. Even without the other pieces on the disc–all but one world premieres–this would be worth acquiring.
However, the remaining items are much more than mere makeweights. Sowerby’s First String Quartet is a substantial work in three movements. The idiom is self-consciously “American,” full of modal, folk-like themes and zesty rhythms. Although the movements get longer as the work progresses, the music becomes increasingly lively and the entire structure, however unconventional, works extremely well. The Avalon String Quartet had to work just as hard as Any Baker to bring the piece to performance, but the effort was certainly worth it. The two additional works, Tramping Tune for quartet, piano and double bass, and the charmingly lyrical serenade for string quartet, round out this compelling and beautifully assembled collection. Truly a major discovery.
– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; David Hurwitz)
The “main event” here, so to speak, is Sowerby’s jazz symphony Monotony. This is an utterly fascinating piece, more classical than jazz despite its use of muted trumpets, banjo and the like, at least in structure. Sowerby builds the first movement around a little sliding chromatic figure played by the trombones in their low range, which is then transformed a bit and moved up to the saxophones as the music develops. Suddenly, a bright little clarinet tune pops up (probably played by Ross Gorman, Whiteman’s virtuoso clarinetist at the time who created the upward opening glissando in Rhapsody in Blue), before the strings and brass get in on the fun. Once again, the syncopations are much closer to ragtime than to real jazz of the era (for examples of this, listen to contemporary recordings by the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band and The Wolverines with Beiderbecke on cornet), but Sowerby’s composition skills kept him and the piece going.
Overall, this is a very interesting album. Kudos all around, to the performers for doing such a good job on the music as well as to Çedille Records for recording and releasing it. This is a valuable missing piece in the early discourse between jazz and classical music.
– The Art Music Lounge
The 18th Century Symphony - Cannabich / Lukas, Lukas Consort
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 - Liszt: Mazeppa / Mehta, BRSO
This BR-KLASSIK CD features recordings of concerts on February 28 and March 1, 2013 in the Philharmonie im Gasteig.
Zubin Mehta is closely associated with the city of Munich and the orchestras based there. From 1998 to 2006, he was General Music Director of the Bavarian State Opera in Munich, and has similarly close ties with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra.
Tchaikovsky wrote his Symphony No. 5 in E minor, op. 64, the so-called "Fate Symphony,” in 1888. All four movements of the work are permeated by the so-called “fate” theme. Together with his fourth and sixth (“Pathétique”) symphonies, the fifth is one of Tchaikovsky's most popular.
Franz Liszt's symphonic poem "Mazeppa" is based on a poem by Victor Hugo and uses musical material from the composer’s fourth "Etude d'exécution transcendante" from 1846. The symphonic poem was composed in 1850 during Liszt's tenure as court conductor in Weimar, and was first performed on April 16, 1854. Liszt's symphonic poem describes the wild ride across the steppe of the emaciated and exhausted Ivan Masepa (Mazeppa), tied to the back of a horse. He is finally rescued by Cossacks, who take him to Ukraine.
Mahler: Symphony No. 9
Copland: Orchestral Works, Vol. 3 - Symphonies / Wilson, BBC Philharmonic
The exploration by John Wilson of Copland’s major orchestral output with the BBC Philharmonic has now reached Volume 3, with this invigorating programme recorded in surround-sound. It opens with An Outdoor Overture, a cheerful and breezy piece which Copland composed in 1938, intending to spearhead an initiative encouraging ‘American Music for American Youth’. Originally written for organ and orchestra, the First Symphony is presented here in its revised version (1926-28) for large orchestra. The six concise movements of Statements (1932-35) introduce a new style, their gritty soundscapes being stunning examples of what Copland later would refer to as ‘hard-bitten’ pieces. The concluding work is the expressive, fantastical Dance Symphony (1929) which explores different styles of symphonic movements, its dark aura a residue of its origin as a ballet on a grotesque vampire theme, composed 1922-25 and named Grohg. The symphony has remained a highly controversial piece ever since.
Bruckner 11 - Complete Symphonies, nos. 00-9 / Thielemann, Wiener Philharmoniker
On the occasion of the Bruckner bicentenary; the Vienna Philharmonic recorded its first ever complete Bruckner cycle with a single conductor; Christian Thielemann. In addition to the well-known canon of nine symphonies; the two earliest Bruckner symphonies in F minor and D minor were also recorded for the first time in the orchestra’s history. This uniquely complete edition from the Musikverein and Salzburg Festival; featuring 11 symphonies also includes extensive conversations with Christian Thielemann about each symphony and insights into his rehearsal work.
“In this audiovisual edition Bruckner 11; the Vienna Philharmonic pays tribute to the symphonic works of the great Austrian composer Anton Bruckner; whose 200th birthday anniversary will be celebrated in 2024. The Vienna Philharmonic; perhaps more than any other ensemble; can look back on a shared history with Bruckner that was shaped by the composer’s great esteem for the orchestra and which was to have a decisive influence on Austrian musical culture. The premiere of the Symphony No. 2; for example; which Bruckner himself conducted in 1873; was a great success and; despite considerable opposition at the time; led to numerous performances and premieres. The close artistic and personal relationship between Anton Bruckner and the Vienna Philharmonic also contributed to the development of an unmistakable “Brucknerian” sound and style of playing which has had an enduring influence on the composer’s legacy up to the present day.This anniversary provides a welcome occasion to celebrate the music of Anton Bruckner.
For the first time in our orchestral history we have made a complete recording of all nine symphonies and two of his brilliant yet rarely performed early works with a single conductor. We enjoy a very close artistic partnership and friendship with Christian Thielemann; who is an acknowledged expert on the music of Anton Bruckner and one of the most influential contemporary conductors in this repertoire. In this recording; our long tradition comes alive in both sound and images. We hope it will encourage people to rediscover the treasures of Bruckner’s music; a legacy that the composer bestowed upon present and future generations of music lovers.” Prof. Daniel Froschauer; Chairman of the Wiener Philharmoniker
Melchers: Works for Orchestra / Martin, Gävle Symphony
Swedish composer Melcher Melchers (1882–1961) has been largely forgotten by music history. Melchers studied composition in Paris and his circle of friends included, among others, Matisse, Picasso, Modigliani, Guillaume Apollinaire, Erik Satie, and members of Les Six. Among the Nordic composers he had the biggest impact on the French music life but his aesthetics in music were quite conservative: d’Indy, Chausson and César Franck were his greatest influences. This album by the Gävle Symphony Orchestra and conductor Jaime Martín includes Melchers’ magnum opus, his finely crafted Symphony in D minor, Op. 19 together with world première recordings of two symphonic poems.
REVIEW:
Melcher Melchers' music can be described as traditional with a French accent. Initially he gravitated towards German Late Romanticism, but the French influence exerted a decisive pull, and he became influenced by César Franck, Debussy, Ravel, Satie and Les Six. His compositions include a symphony, symphonic poems, a violin concerto, two piano concertos string quartet, sonatas for violin and cello and twenty songs.
The disc opens with two strikingly contrasting symphonic poems, each receiving their world premiere recordings. The first was inspired by a painting by Peter Paul Rubens titled La Kermesse (1635–1638). It depicts an exuberant festival in the Flemish countryside. Melchers captures the atmosphere to perfection in this lighthearted, ebullient score. There are children playing, people dancing and food and wine flowing in abundance. The rhythmic abandon and colorful orchestration vividly convey the joie de vivre of the scene.
Élégie couldn’t be more different. Written a year before La Kermesse in 1919 it’s dedicated to the memory of the composer’s mother who had recently died. It didn’t, however, receive a premiere until 1924, when it was performed under the baton of Georg Schnéevoigt. Melchers employs dark, sombre sonorites to convey the solemn nature of the subject matter. A static quality pervades the music.
The three-movement Symphony in D minor is Melchers most important composition. Scored for a large orchestra, the work was written in 1925. The composer entered it for a competition a year later organized by the Stockholm Concert Society for the inauguration of a new concert hall in the city. It took second place to Kurt Atterberg’s vocal work Sången. From its first performance it elicited a positive response from the critics. The opening movement is the most extensive of the three. It brims over with drama and powerful climaxes. The contrasting lyrical moments convey an enchanted world of bucolic idyll. A beautiful slow movement overflows with melancholy and wistful regret. The finale recalls the festive mood of La Kermesse, joyous, optimistic and uplifting.
The Gävle Symphony Orchestra under Jaime Martín offer spirited and persuasive performances of these attractive works. They’ve been captured in the best possible sound.
-- MusicWeb International (Stephen Greenbank)
Mozart: 'Posthorn' Serenade; Gallimathias Musicum / Mardirossian, CCPO Pardubice
MOZART: HAFFNER-SERENADE KV 250 & MARSCH KV 249
Andris Nelsons conducts the Wiener Philharmoniker
Debussy: Nocturnes - Franck: Symphony / Celibidache, Munich Philharmonic
This release from the archive of the Munich Philharmonic honors two iconic works from the repertoire of French symphonic music of the late 19th century: César Franck's Symphony in D minor and Claude Debussy's Nocturnes. Franck's only symphony testifies to grandeur and French elegance, while Debussy's Nocturnes capture the special atmosphere of the night with all it's twilight colors and movements. In these remastered concert recordings from 1991 and 1983, legendary conductor Sergiu Celibidache interprets the two masterpieces with all their drama and finesse intact.
Viotti: Violin Concerto No. 22; Cherubini: Symphony In D
Haydn: Symphonies 35, 38, 39, 49, 58, & 59 / Solomons, L'Estro Armonico
The most remarkable of [these works] are the two minor-key symphonies that reflect the influence of the Sturm und Drang ("Storm and Stress") movement in German literature of the time: the impassioned No. 39 in G minor with its four horns, which inspired similar works in the same key by J. C. Bach, Vanhal and Mozart, and the sombre No, 49 in F minor, known as La passione and the last and greatest of Haydn's symphonies in the form of the sonata do chiesa (with the slow movement placed first). Of the other four works, No. 38 in C - in Haydn's festive manner - with trumpets and drums and C alto horns, is particularly striking not least because of its stunning, concertonle oboe solo in the finale, probably written, as H. C. Robbins Landon suggests in the accompanying booklet, to show oft the Esterházy orchestra's new oboist Vittorino Colombazzo. No. 59 in A, known as the Fire for reasons that remain obscure, is full of excitement and dramatic surprises, such as the totally unexpected entry of the oboes and horns two-thirds of the way through the slow movement, and the extraordinary fortissimo horn call that interrupts the return of the main theme a few bars later. No. 35 in B flat is on the whole a sunny, exuberant work, though with an unexpected outburst of passionate counterpoint in the first movement's development section; and No. 58 in F has an almost chamber-musical intimacy and boasts an amusing menuet alla zoppa ("Limping Minuet") that frames a dark-hued Trio that sounds, in Landon's words,, "rather as if a group of slightly sinister Gypsies had suddently entered the feast".
The performances are distinguished by their clean textures, rhythmic precision and nice feeling for tempo; there is a tasteful, and never obtrusive, harpsichord continuo and some spectacular high horn-playing. Perhaps the two minor-key symphonies could do with rather more weight and intensity, but on the whole it would be hard to imagine performances of more freshness and conviction. Even the tendency towards short-breathed phrases in the slow movements and to vibrato-less bulges in the string playing seem less noticeable than before. The recording is every bit as vivid as were the earlier ones [released on Saga Records, now unavailable]—and that is high praise.
-- Gramophone [7/1982]
Mozart: Klavierkonzerte No 22 & 23 / Barenboim, Kubelik, Bavarian Radio Symphony
MOZART Piano Concertos: No. 22, K 482; No. 23, K 488 • Daniel Barenboim (pn); Rafael Kubelík, cond; Bavarian RSO • BR 900709 (58:48)
Twenty-eight year old Daniel Barenboim and the esteemed conductor Rafael Kubelík are heard here in two of Mozart’s most profound and appealing piano concertos. Twenty years later, in 1990, Barenboim recorded these concertos with the Berlin Philharmonic, this time as both pianist and conductor. Between these years, Murray Perahia in his early 30s, as both pianist and conductor, recorded these concertos (in the mid 1970s) with the English Chamber Orchestra, and elder statesman Rudolf Serkin recorded them (in the mid 1980s) with Claudio Abbado and the London Symphony Orchestra. Barenboim, while continuing a busy schedule as a pianist, eventually became principal conductor or music director of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and later of the Berlin Philharmonic. Perahia continues, on occasion, to conduct chamber orchestras from the keyboard. Serkin never, to my knowledge, served as conductor. These facts are a source for interesting performance comparisons of these concertos. I am wary of the practice of conducting from the keyboard when the orchestral demands are equal to those of the piano or of any other keyboard instrument, and these two concertos make such equal demands.
The first and third movements of the E? concerto (K 482) on this CD are played at rather fast tempos, producing an inappropriate tension and a consequent masking of detail, robbing the listener of the ability to savor the beauty of Mozart’s creation. The exception is the andantino cantabile middle section of the third movement, where the tempo is suitable. The second-movement variations, however, are exceptionally well played, but the thrilling effect of the right-hand C Minor against the left-hand C Major (starting at the legato at bar 13 from the end) in the final variation is not discernible. Barenboim’s 20-year-later effort as pianist-conductor is much more successful, principally because of his more relaxed tempos. The C Minor/C Major effect in the final variation, however, remains hidden. Perahia as pianist-conductor produces a more satisfying K 482 than either of Barenboim’s efforts by using not only relaxed tempos but more effective phrasing. The C Minor/C Major effect in the final variation is no longer hidden at Perahia’s command. Unfortunately, Perahia’s decision to use Hummel’s cadenzas in the first and third movements was not a wise one. The Serkin/Abbado K 482 is still my favorite because of its very many virtues. Serkin’s characteristically deliberate tempos benefit this concerto by allowing the listener to hear detail not easily discovered, even in Perahia’s fine account. Abbado’s ability to allow inner part-writing to be clearly heard matches Serkin’s attention to detail. The C Minor/C Major effect in the final variation is crystal clear, and as a result an ecstatic experience. Bars 181–182 (shortly before the andantino cantabile ) in the final movement pass unremarkably from both Barenboim and Perahia, but Serkin plays them with an agogic that allows accenting of the first note of each of the four occurrences of four 16th-note groups. The result (at 4:00 in the Serkin recording) is magic.
The A-Major Concerto (K 488) fares better than its companion concerto under Barenboim/Kubelík and under Barenboim-“squared.” The more relaxed first-movement tempo of Barenboim-squared is initially preferable to that of Barenboim/Kubelík, but the latter has the distinct advantage of more discernible orchestral detail. But Barenboim’s more relaxed tempo in his dual role eventually becomes a bit sluggish. The plaintive F?-Minor Adagio has Barenboim at his best in both recordings, but Kubelík’s independence as conductor produces a more convincing emotional effect. The final movement is a Barenboim/Kubelík triumph in terms of the exuberance demanded by the music and the orchestral detail provided by the conductor. Especially noteworthy are the important bassoon passages, which are never masked, and the three appearances of the passage borrowed from the first movement of the B?-Concerto (K 456), which are gloriously bouncy. The final movement under Barenboim-squared is too subdued—too square, as it were. My preferences for the A-Major Concerto are Perahia-squared (but never square) and Serkin/Abbado. The former is the master of phrase shaping and the latter the master of attention to detail.
This is a disc worth having because Barenboim and Kubelík have something unique to say about these concertos. My preferences may lie elsewhere, but hidden details like bassoon passages and C Minor/C Major superposition are revealed enough by familiarity with the music to free them from complete hiding.
FANFARE: Burton Rothleder
Barenboim first collaborated with Kubelík when the pianist was sixteen. That encounter was in Australia. And K488 was the first concerto he played in public, back when he was eight. The conjunction of that concerto and the Czech conductor comes in this release from BR Klassik, which presents a collaboration made in June 1970 in Munich where Kubelík was music director of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra.
This was a compatible meeting of minds. Barenboim is on record as having admired the older man for his seriousness and vitality, and it certainly sounds to have been a congenial coming together of kindred spirits. Kubelík ensures that the string weight in K488 is not too saturated but remains clarified, if not exactly spruce. Meanwhile Barenboim is characteristically attentive in his exchanges with the wind principals – the warmly supple dialogue with the first flute is a case in point. The first movement cadenza is conspicuously well played but contains melancholic introspections that are fully realised in the central movement – the veiled anticipations lead with inexorable logic to the deepening expression that follows. What remains laudable is that this expression comes at no cost to the architectural continuity of the music making. Instead the clarinets offer reprieve in their flowing episodes and the grandeur of the melancholy is adroitly realised by a confluence of soloists, alert orchestral colours and detailed etching of rhythms and contours from the conductor. Released from this spirit, the finale explores more bucolic emotions – bubbling lower winds, clarity and rounded ebullience from Barenboim and if the recording somewhat favours, as so often, the soloist - meaning that some winds writing can be swamped - this deficiency doesn’t materially limit one’s appreciation of a fine traversal, a unanimous one moreover, expressively and intellectually.
These features apply equally to the companion concerto performed here, the Concerto in E, K482. The Military-Janissary quality is welcomingly celebrated by Kubelík, the crisp chording having more than a touch of imperial majesty about them. Barenboim evokes something of his hero Edwin Fischer’s simplicity of expression. His excellently conceived cadenza playing impresses and so too does the austerity and interior expression of the slow movement. The reminiscent reverie cultivated in the central panel of the finale attests to the probing introspection of these collaborations.
Naturally Barenboim’s concerto cycle with the ECO will be the first port of call for collectors of the commercial discography from around this time. But these almost contemporaneous live traversals are of lasting value given the assured and sensitive direction of Kubelík.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No 5; Beethoven / Leinsdorf
The previous Leinsdorf offering in this series had a very good-to-fine Schubert 9, an even finer Schumann 4 and a wonderful Wagner “Good Friday Music”. However much you enjoyed it, I should think that only those present in the Boston Symphony Hall on 15 April 1969 could be fully prepared for the impact of the present resuscitation.
The first pleasant surprise that the material is in colour, even if definition is not up to modern standards. The second is that Leinsdorf, who was usually seen – before and after 1969 – without a baton and said in a late interview that he felt freer to mould the music expressively with just his hands – marches on with a longish baton and seems accustomed to wielding it. Richard Dyer, whose eye-witness notes continue to be such a valuable feature of this series, makes no mention of this. It would be interesting to know more about Leinsdorf’s use and non-use of the baton.
But all this pales before the fact that this sometimes austere and pedantic conductor is on truly inspired and inspiring form, conducting with total involvement. This doesn’t mean that it’s all fast and loud: the Beethoven goes at a good but not excessive pace and there is plenty of expressive weight to the introduction. The wind phrases in the allegro are beautifully turned and the coda truly blazes.
Leinsdorf’s Beethoven is a known factor. If it wasn’t always this good, I suppose it doesn’t need a lot of imagination to see that, on the right day, it could be. But his Tchaikovsky?
Leinsdorf only recorded one Tchaikovsky Symphony commercially, the Sixth with the Los Angeles Philharmonic some years before his Boston appointment. I’ve never heard this, nor have I ever seen it spoken of with bated breath. Whereas the internet grapevine has been shouting excitedly about this Fifth ever since somebody posted an incomplete sound-only version, as Richard Dyer relates. I can well understand those internet commentators who say they’ll never listen to their other discs of the work now this is available, or one who actually heard it at the time and has been unable to find a performance to match it – not even Mravinsky – ever since.
On the face of it, Leinsdorf doesn’t “do” anything particular with the music. The introduction is brooding but also purposeful – he notes that it is “andante” not “adagio” and one senses a great latent power behind waiting to be unleashed. His “Allegro con anima” does not sidle in slowly, gaining speed later, he sets an up-front tempo straight away. It will sound very fast to some listeners. But this is his tempo, so the first crescendo is not accompanied by an accelerando and the hammering passages go at about the “normal” speed. Nor does he deviate from this tempo, except where Tchaikovsky actually requests a slower pace for the second subject. Leinsdorf plays this with great tenderness and free rubato, even risking some less precise ensemble. On paper, this might sound like one of Leinsdorf’s dogmatic demonstrations, and if he had subsequently taken the performance into the studio I fear it might have turned into just that. I must emphasize that here everything is white-hot and convinces as a free expression of emotions.
So, too, does the slow movement. The tempo is pretty steady but there is a sense of free-soaring passion which completely effaces any sense of the four-square. The waltz has an elegance which does not prevent exploitation of its darker moments while the finale carries all before it. The coda has an air of crude triumph presaging Mahler. Audience reaction is rightly rapturous and even Leinsdorf manages some smiles. It looks as though the Bostonians learnt to love Leinsdorf just as he was on his way out.
I haven’t ventured to compare this with other favourites. Once the initial impact has worn off I cannot believe that performance by such as Mravinsky or Markevich, which have provided inspiration to generations (and to me) can be wholly and eternally eclipsed. The case still remains for a cooler, more brooding approach, notably provided – in very primitive sound – by Landon Ronald. At the opposite extreme, the capacity of late Celibidache to bend your internal clock and suspend disbelief at his time-dilations is not to be dismissed either. What I am quite sure of is that Leinsdorf has belatedly entered the select list of the greatest Tchaikovsky performances on record.
Back to batonless Leinsdorf in black and white for the Mozart bonus. He puts on an incredibly autocratic face with black looks all round. Those used to modern Mozart will gasp at the fullness of the first attack, yet there is lilt as well as majesty, and delicacy later on, Leinsdorf shaping the music with crisp finger-movements.
An interesting filler, perhaps. But don’t miss the Tchaikovsky on any account.
-- Christopher Howell, MusicWeb International
LEINSDORF CONDUCTS BEETHOVEN AND TCHAIKOVSKY
Ludwig van Beethoven: Egmont, Op. 84: Overture
Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Erich Leinsdorf, conductor
Recorded at Symphony Hall, Boston, 15 April 1969
Bonus:
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Serenade No. 9 in D major, K. 320, "Posthorn": II. Menuetto: Allegretto
Recorded at Sanders Theatre, Harvard University, 15 January 1963
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: Enhanced Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Booklet notes: English, French, German
Running time: 57 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Abel: Between Two Worlds - Orchestral Music
Brahms: Four-Hand Piano Music, Vol. 12
Johann Stamitz: Flute Concertos / Aitken, Katkus
J. W. STAMITZ Flute Concertos: in D; in C; in D; in G • Robert Aitken (fl); Donatas Katkus, cond; St. Christopher CO • NAXOS 8.570150 (69:15)
The music of Johann Stamitz (1717–57) is largely known through a handful of works. For clarinetists, the B? Concerto is arguably one of (if not the) earliest written for the instrument that uses both the upper clarion and the lower chalumeau registers, and thus earns its reputation for its modernity. Orchestral trios foreshadow the emerging symphony; and his later works, including the La melodia germanica series published in Paris in 1756, not only are some of the earliest to establish the four-movement conventional symphonic pattern, but they also popularized the orchestral effects associated with the Mannheim orchestra, of which Stamitz was the concertmaster. These include rapid scales (the so-called coup d’archet ), the layered crescendo (the original Mannheim steamroller), and the rapidly ascending triads known as the Mannheim rocket. Less well known is the fact that he was a prolific composer, who, in his position, was able to experiment with the capabilities of his instruments, the various textures that could be obtained, and with form and structure. As a result, his efforts had far-reaching impacts upon the music and composers that followed him.
Stamitz was active during a period that one either can characterize as galant or (to borrow a term from literature) empfindsam . Both of these are tricky to translate accurately in musical terms, the former meaning something like “polite” or “well bred” and the latter “emotional” or “sensitive” (and there are other words that work as well). But what it really means for the listener is that there is a new sense of freedom to explore the capabilities of the music, to play with rhythm and contrast, and to develop new genres and styles. This disc presents four of his flute concertos, probably written for Johann Baptist Wendling, a flutist who was arguably one of the best of the entire century. Considering that the instrument was made of wood and had only a couple of keys, both the tone production and technical capability was limited, making the instrument more appropriate to chamber work than playing versus an orchestra, particularly one the size and power of Mannheim. In all four works, Stamitz demonstrates a skill that focuses on a dazzling display of technical virtuosity that is rarely overshadowed by the accompaniment. Even when he adds horns, as he does in the two D-Major concertos, the use is sensitive to the overall sonority. As for the flute part itself, if the listener, spoiled by the long, lyrical lines and regular phrases of the two Mozart pieces, seeks such in these works, disappointment will follow. Instead, there is a virtual compendium of pyrotechnics that leaves the listener breathless (not to mention the poor flutist). Rapid runs, leaps between registers, perpetual-motion figuration, and the rapid oscillation between duple and triple rhythms make this a flute virtuoso’s delight, as these works push the envelope of what is technically possible with the instrument. Moreover, in the C-Major Concerto, even the orchestral ritornello is technically demanding for the strings. These are not student works, but require the utmost of agility and ability to perform.
Aitken, fortunately, is quite up to the task. He takes the break-neck tempos of the opening movements with apparent ease and clarity of tone, allowing the display to come through. In the slow movements, he pulls back the throttle, but never enough to dull the sometimes-sensitive lyrical writing. For instance, in the C-Major Concerto, the second movement’s minor key, replete with echo effects, is delineated with precision and displays considerable musical deftness. In the G-Major final movement, he allows for the folk-like main theme to peer through the leaps and runs, providing a contrast that is both pleasing and a welcome relief to the pyrotechnics. Only occasionally does he blur his scales and leaps, though this may be an aftereffect of using a modern instrument.
The Lithuanian St. Christopher group provides a precise and understated accompaniment. One might have wished for more presence in the recording, but perhaps this was a decision by the sound engineer to focus on the flute. It is true that the music on this disc is mostly all about the flute and its ability, and this lends a certain sameness to each of the concertos, but if one concentrates upon the remarkable technical display, then one will find a perfect example of what can happen when a composer of this pivotal period pushes the aerobatic envelope of a more reticent and intimate instrument. We would be lucky to have the remaining 10 recorded in the future. Highly recommended.
FANFARE: Bertil van Boer
Johann Stamitz is a name well known in musical history, but his voice is seldom heard. This latest Naxos disc of flute concertos - two volumes of symphonies and one of orchestral trios are already available - is therefore a welcome release.
Famous as a virtuoso violinist and then as Kapellmeister of the celebrated Mannheim court orchestra, Stamitz presided over the establishment of that band of players and over the development of what became the ‘Mannheim style’ – disciplined playing, thrilling dynamics and innovative instrumentation. He played a key role in developing the symphonic form, and in transforming musical composition from the Baroque style to the nascent Classical sound.
As well as symphonies, Stamitz left behind a large number of concertos, including fourteen for flute. The four featured on this disc probably date from the 1750s and may well have been played by the Elector Carl Theodor, and by Mannheim virtuoso Johann Baptist Wendling, who so impressed Mozart on his visit to Paris in 1763 and Mannheim in 1777-78.
They are beautiful works, but the main problem is that there is little to distinguish one from the other. The two D major concertos in particular sound very much alike, although the horn parts in the second at least differentiate it from it predecessor. The C major concerto’s shift into C minor for the slow Andante offers some tonal variety, while rapid triplet figures for the soloist in the first movement keep the momentum alive.
But one cannot escape the feeling that these works were really vehicles for Wendling’s – or someone else’s – prodigious talents. Attention therefore falls on soloist Robert Aitken. His flawless technique and lightness of touch make him perfectly suited to this kind of repertoire. He is particularly impressive in the hugely demanding cadenzas in each concerto, although his forward positioning in the recording can make the flute sound a little shrill on the ear in some of the higher registers.
For their part, the St Christopher (formerly Vilnius) Chamber Orchestra under Donatus Katkus have few opportunities to shine. Nevertheless, they keep the accompaniment chugging along nicely, hinting at Haydnesque and Mozartian sounds to come.
-- John-Pierre Joyce, MusicWeb International
Schumann: Symphonies 1 & 4 / Roth, Cologne Gurzenich Orchestra
The year 1841 finally marked Robert Schumann’s breakthrough as a composer for orchestra. That year, he created no less than two works: his First Symphony, also known as the “Spring Symphony”, and a piece which he initially planned as a "Symphonic Fantasy" in one movement, and which would later become his Symphony in D Minor. The Spring Symphony was composed in the coldest winter. Full of longing, it is a work that knows only one direction: growing, blossoming, the path to light and new life. The Symphony in D minor seems much more somber and intimate, “a work from the innermost depths of his soul”, as Clara Schumann noted in her diary. However, the audience could not warm up to this bold, impetuous work, and Schumann set it aside. Ten years later, after a major revision, he published it as his 4th Symphony. This album pairs the Spring Symphony with the original version of the Symphony in D minor, the version which friends such as Johannes Brahms preferred over the later edition. Schumann never heard it again in his lifetime, and it was not until 1889 that it was performed in public once more, by the Gürzenich Orchestra Cologne under the baton of Franz Wüllner. François-Xavier Roth, the Gürzenich Orchestra’s current chief conductor, also prefers the original version. With its leaner orchestration, it is certainly the more radical one, and thus requires a higher degree of commitment from the orchestra musicians in forming crescendi, melodic phrases, and extended arcs of formal development.
