Search results: Search results
104 results
Products
-
-
-
Nessler: Der Trompeter Von Sackingen / Froschauer, Prey, Klepper, Spath
Capriccio · Oct 2013CD$22.99 -
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Reger: Piano Concerto Op 114; Bach/Busoni: Piano Concerto Bwv 1052 / Korstick, Schirmer, Et Al
CPO · Apr 2009CD$18.99 -
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Schumann: Kreisleriana & Ghost Variations; Widmann: 11 Humoresken / Pilsan
Alpha · May 2023CD$20.99 -
-
-
-
-
Fries: Songs
Favourite Melodies
Nessler: Der Trompeter Von Sackingen / Froschauer, Prey, Klepper, Spath
SCHUMANN: NOVELLETTEN - KREISLERIANA
Senza Parole
Bayreuth 1954
Beethoven: Complete Piano Trios, Vol. 2 / Van Baerle Trio
Chamber music arrangements of symphonies were very common in the late 18th and early 19th century, and it is probably true that a large proportion of the people who were familiar with the symphonic repertoire at the time were so because of them. The Second Symphony is the only one for which Beethoven himself produced an arrangement, although there is evidence that his student Ferdinand Ries did the bulk of the work, with Beethoven adding the finishing touches. One of the three piano trios published under op. 1, the second announces its pretentions to the symphonic genre earlier than its siblings and has several common points with the Second Symphony that was written ten years later. The Allegretto in E flat, Hess 48, probably was one of the first works for piano trio that Beethoven wrote, dating back to the early 1790s. Its form is a short, but humorous conversation between three different instruments.
Beethoven: Piano Trios
VALKYRIE
Der Ferne Klang / Jennifer Holloway, Ian Koziara
Der ferne Klang by Franz Schreker (1878-1934) premiered on August 18, 1912 at the Frankfurt Opera House. Schreker had already begun composing his first full-length opera in 1901, after the text he had written in just a few weeks. Now the work, which was initially considered impossible to perform, but which made Schreker suddenly famous, is returning to the location of it's premiere for the first time after 1945. Almost half of all operas by the Austrian, who with one exception was both composer and librettist for all of his stage works, performed or premiered in Frankfurt. The Choir of the Oper Frankfurt and Frankfurter Opern- und Museumsorchester perform under the direction of Sebastian Weigle.
"Oper Frankfurt is arguably the “right” company to produce this Der ferne Klang recording, because Austrian composer Franz Schreker (1878-1934) had a special connection with this opera house. It was here that he scored his first big success with this opera, followed by the premiere of his complete version of Die Gezeichneten, two of his most definitive works. His musical idiom is decidedly Late/Post Romantic, yet uniquely his own, beguiling in its lush and translucent tone colours. His style can also extend into an intensely expressionistic and harmonically adventurous, if unsettling, musical soundscape. At the height of his fame during the early years of the Weimar Republic, Schreker was the most performed opera composer after Richard Strauss. He was also a noted pedagogue, as director of Berlin’s Hochschule für Musik, and counted Berthold Goldschmidt and Ernst Krenek as his students. But by the late 1920s, with the rise of National Socialism and its inherent antisemitism, Schreker, who was Jewish, lost his academic appointments and his compositions were banned. Sadly he descended into obscurity, suffered a stroke and died at the age of 56. It was only in the 1980s, through Decca’s “Entartete Musik” series, that Schreker reemerged from a decades-long obscurity. His revival gathered momentum both in Germany and America. Salzburg Festival’s striking 2005 Die Gezeichneten garnered critical and audience accolades, reaffirmed by the more recent Warlikowski production in Munich, which made a powerful (if nightmarish) impression on me in 2017...
Thankfully, Oper Frankfurt’s production of Der ferne Klang was revived before COVID shut everything down, and it is now commercially available on CD. It features a strong ensemble cast led by tenor Ian Koziara and soprano Jennifer Holloway as the two lovers. Both sing beautifully, with Koziara taking top vocal honours for his free, beautiful, never stentorian, ringing tone. Holloway is equally impressive, a few fleeting moments of steely sound notwithstanding.
This recording includes no less than three Canadians— bass-baritone Gordon Bintner, baritone Iain MacNeil, and mezzo Julia Dawson—all members of the Oper Frankfurt Ensemble. Bintner, as the Graf, has the most music to sing, including a very nice aria, “In einem Lande,” which he handles beautifully, particularly at the top. MacNeil and Dawson have less to sing but both offer fresh voices and vivid imagination. All supporting roles are well taken, perhaps with one painful exception. I debated whether to mention it as it involves a singer I have admired in the past. I heard soprano Nadine Secunde (Alte Frau Mama) as a marvelous Sieglinde and Elsa 30 years ago. Here she is in shockingly poor vocal estate, afflicted by a painful wobble —perhaps in character for an ‘Old Lady’, but does it have to be this way? Sebastian Weigle shows his fine understanding of Schreker, leading the Frankfurt forces with strength and eloquence— the Zwischenspiel in Act III is a highlight. This piece might not delight everybody, but if you are fond of Strauss and early Schoenberg, and have an inclination to stories with a Freudian bent, you are in for a treat.
The opera’s story has little to do with logic, yet is strangely suited to Schreker’s lush and atmospheric score. As the listener, one takes a journey of poetic imagination that’s oddly satisfying. This is a perfect opera to illustrate that one should listen not with the head but with the heart. As with a lot of Schreker, the visual element is important, if not crucial, to the total enjoyment of the work, so it’s regrettable that this isn’t a DVD release. That said, it is still very enjoyable and an important addition to the discography of a much neglected composer. Highly recommended." —— Joseph So
Reger: Piano Concerto Op 114; Bach/Busoni: Piano Concerto Bwv 1052 / Korstick, Schirmer, Et Al
REGER Piano Concerto. BACH-BUSONI Keyboard Concerto in d, BWV 1052 • Michael Korstick (pn); Ulf Schirmer, cond; Munich RO • cpo 777 373 (63:12)
So many factors go into the making of a successful recording! One would think that great artists, committed to the music, would be primary. The classic recording of Reger’s Piano Concerto is by Rudolf Serkin, a committed Regerite if ever there was one, accompanied by no less than the Philadelphia Orchestra under Eugene Ormandy, on a Columbia stereo LP, later a CBS Masterworks Portrait CD. When that recording proved underwhelming, one’s natural reaction was to give up on the music, and later performances supported that decision. Korstick, Schirmer, and Munich do not suggest comparable levels of quality—or at least of fame; yet right from the opening bars the music grabs our attention, holds it, and satisfies on every count.
So, what happened? First off, spectacular recorded sound brings Reger’s Concerto to life as never before. One’s auditory senses, and that means more than just hearing, immediately leap to attention. I envision ears standing up, hairs on the back of the neck rising, like our dog when a deer appears in the yard. Of course, sheer sound is not enough, and the artists whom I so unthinkingly dissed perform at a high level. The orchestral introduction sings with a white-hot passion not previously realized, and the piano’s entrance bursts upon us like a thunderclap. In Fanfare 32:3, Peter Burwasser admired Korstick’s “muscular virtuosity” in Beethoven sonatas, but decried his “lack of grace.” That sounds like a prescription for Reger’s mighty finger buster, and Korstick delivers big time, maintaining golden tone with no apparent strain, which Serkin—one of my favorite artists—was not able to do. But this Concerto is not all bluff and bluster; it has its tender moments, even in the pugnacious opening Allegro moderato (the moderato is an indication of tempo, not of character). Korstick is reasonably convincing in the brief, calm second theme and its reoccurrences. Although Reger’s notorious harmonic progressions keep this music from sounding like Brahms, that master’s impetuous First Concerto is an obvious influence on this movement.
Korstick is less at home with the second movement, Largo con gran espressione; a few passages become just a series of separate notes, rather than one continuous line. But that happens with Serkin, too, suggesting that we should blame the composer. When the inevitable climaxes arrive, Korstick is back in his element, pouring out cascades of tone. Serkin finds an elfin humor in the Allegretto con spirito finale, which Korstick and Schirmer—at a much slower tempo—miss. They seem to be revisiting the spirit of the opening movement, whereas Serkin is exploring another of Reger’s many facets. If the quality of recorded sound were anywhere near equal, one might prefer Serkin/Ormandy in this movement; but it is not, so it may be best to fall into step with the cpo team and wallow in Korstick’s potent pianism. All of this is not enough to bring Reger’s Concerto up to the level of Brahms, or even Rachmaninoff, but it does turn it into a fascinating, absorbing work.
This Bach-Busoni Concerto is the score that the otherwise incomparable Dinu Lipatti (and many other pianist of his era) played, heard in a 1947 live-performance recording with the Concertgebouw under van Beinum ( Fanfare 24:5, p. 277). Busoni’s concept was the exact opposite of today’s period practice: he added color, fistfuls of extra notes, and much ornamentation to the keyboard part (think Horowitz playing Mussorgsky), and he cut freely, particularly in the finale. Korstick’s interest in the Busoni version comes from his studies at Juilliard, where he met Edward Weiss, a Busoni pupil who played the Concerto under Busoni’s baton. The structure and the familiar themes may be Bach, but this is Busoni we are hearing; given Korstick’s qualities (the good and the bad) that may be just as well. Comparison with Lipatti is difficult: that recording was an amateur one, so distorted that one barely notices that he and van Beinum somehow restored Busoni’s cuts. Lipatti plays with more consistent tempos and a semblance of taste—his Adagio is deeply moving—but he is still far from Bach.
This disc is urgently recommended to Reger fanciers. Others will not care, and probably will not be convinced if they do try it.
FANFARE: James H. North
Eisler: Kalifornische Ballade
ENCORES
BRAHMS: SYMS CONCERTOS OVERTURES HAYDN VARIATIONS
Mahler: Symphony no. 2 / Sir Simon Rattle, BRSO
For more than 50 years, Sir Simon Rattle, Chief Conductor of the Bavarian Radio Chorus and Symphony Orchestra, has devoted himself intensely to the deeply personal, emotional, and autobiographical music of Gustav Mahler. Mahler conceived his symphonies as all-encompassing universes that reflect the full spectrum of human life. He famously said: “To me, a symphony means using every available technical resource to build a world.” To guide both orchestra and audience through these profoundly moving musical worlds, no conductor is better equipped than Sir Simon Rattle.
Mahler's “Resurrection Symphony” explores one of humanity's most profound existential questions: the meaning of life. From the opening movement, originally titled “Totenfeier” (“Funeral Rite”), to the finale, in which the soloists and chorus proclaim “Aufersteh’n wirst du!“ (“You shall rise again!”), Mahler grapples with joy and suffering. The Second Symphony’s dramatic contrasts, emotional intensity, richly coloured orchestration, and crowning choral finale have made it one of his most beloved works.
Now released on CD by BR-Klassik, the Munich performance of the symphony from March 2026 brings together a stellar cast in a superb interpretation of one of the defining masterpieces of the Late Romantic symphonic repertoire. Gustav Mahler wanted his Second Symphony to exceed any known format - and he also wanted it to tackle the key questions of existence: "Why have you lived? Why have you suffered? Is everything just one enormous, terrible joke? We have to solve these questions in some way if we want to carry on living," said the composer. Similar questions preoccupied him throughout his life, and with a special intensity during his time as an opera conductor in Hamburg. The Second Symphony, also referred to as the "Resurrection Symphony", is a complete expression of Mahler’s existential struggle; both its form and its overpowering sound make this utterly clear.
The symphony took several years to compose – it was written between 1888 and 1894. In September 1888, the first movement – which at this point still bore the title "Totenfeier” (“Funeral Rite”) – was already complete. The second and third movements were not written until 1893 and Mahler only completed the entire work in 1894. Like most of Mahler’s symphonies, the work follows a "Per aspera ad astra" pattern (“through difficulties to the stars”). Starting with a funeral march in the main theme of the opening movement - the passing of a life full of vigour, pain, blows of fate, and only a few brief and beautiful moments - the symphony concludes with a triumphant resurrection movement.
The premiere of the complete symphony took place on December 13, 1895 in Berlin under Mahler's direction; previously (on March 4 of that year) he had already performed the first three movements. The premiere of the Second Symphony thus took place after that of the Third. The reactions were initially subdued, but today the work ranks as one of the most popular of Mahler’s symphonies.
Schumann: Kreisleriana & Ghost Variations; Widmann: 11 Humoresken / Pilsan
Schumann composed Kreisleriana in April 1838, at the age of 27, exactly the same age as Aaron Pilsan today : “The youthful thing that I can identify with in Kreisleriana is its spontaneity. If I had to describe the piece, I would use the German word for crazy, ‘verrückt’, which doesn’t just mean crazy, but also to be disconnected from reality. So, crazy, imaginative and intimate… There is a huge connection between these two German composers, as Jörg Widmann was inspired by Schumann’s music a lot and even his musical language is very similar, even though their styles are obviously very different. The starting point for Widmann’s music is from feelings, from the emotions and sentiments and that is where there is a similarity, but not only there. He even quotes Robert Schumann in his tenth Humoreske, taking a bar directly from Schumann’s Geistervariationen."
REVIEW:
Pilsan expresses the inner turmoil of the Kreisleriana with a keen sense of the enigmatism that is one of the secrets of Schumann’s art. He also finds the right approach in the Geistervariationen, interiorized, cantabile and supple. The melodic tenderness is never obscured by melancholy. It is in such a clear and restrained interpretation that the loss becomes clear, for this is, after all, Schumann’s last work before he was committed to a mental hospital.
Between the two Schumann works Aaron Pilsan has inserted Jörg Widmann’s Elf Humoresken, whose title refers to Robert Schumann. He succeeds very well in showing what the composer wanted: "May the interpreter discover in each of the pieces its very own tone and make it sound, sometimes mocking, then again dry, here melancholically clouded, but always with humor and subtlety."
-- Pizzicato
[Pilsan’s] artistry has evolved considerably. You have to turn to the most esteemed recordings of Kreisleriana, by Horowitz, Pollini, and Argerich, for example, to outstrip Pilsan’s performance. He seeks more balance and moderation at times than those pianists...he’s clearly to the manner born.
Reading the informative liner notes to this new release, which also includes a brief interview with Widmann conducted by Pilsan, you pick up some obvious reference points. Schumann wrote his own set of humoresques, and he freely used the expression marking mit Humor or mit guten Humor, which a postmodern composer like Widmann doesn’t take to be as simple as it looks. He takes full advantage of an emotional spectrum extended even farther than Schumann’s.
The mood is often freely tonal and Romantic, easily accessible if you appreciate contemporary eclecticism and Widmann in particular, as I very much do. Fragmentary references to Schumann abound, and in the final piece a bar of music from Schumann’s last work, the “Ghost” Variations, is directly quoted, serving as a link to Pilsan’s performance of the whole piece. The other major work on the program, Kreisleriana, was based on the fantastical Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler created by E. T. A. Hoffman. The fact that Schumann borrows the title of one of the three Kreisler novels (the last of which is narrated by his cat) implies that the music describes Kreisler’s peculiar temperament as much as Schumann’s – in the medieval sense, temperament is rooted in the four humors.
I haven’t heard other recordings of the Widmann, but Pilsan’s account seems nearly ideal in the way he merges Schumann into the contemporary texture of the music.
-- Fanfare
Alfano: Concerto for Violin, Cello & Piano, Piano Quintet
Wagner: Die Meistersinger Von Nürnberg / Reiner, Schöffler
You can tell much about the entire performance from Reiner's Prelude. It is precise, grand, and detailed, with frisky, playful chattering in the upper strings underpinned by a more muscular approach in the lower strings. But it never becomes aggressive or reckless enough to smash into the opening scene; it grows into it naturally. (Where else can such a complex expression end but in prayer?) Throughout the opera we're treated to spirited tempos and playing from the Vienna Philharmonic that Reiner slows down to good effect: The Fliedermonolog is relaxed and as soft as cotton; the prelude to Act 3 wafts in the air gradually and wistfully; the quintet is a moment frozen in time and is presented with great breadth. We can feel what each character is feeling, even if a couple of them don't have the breath to express it.
Beckmesser's false "prize" song is slow to start, and so is the unease and eventual laughter of the assembled crowd. And the real "Prize Song" is accompanied lyrically, with sweep up to the high points, after which Sachs' speech about German art comes as a powerful missive. What the Viennese of 1955 thought of it, with its nasty recent memories, is anyone's guess, but the opera ends with true joy erupting, and much of it has to do with Reiner's ability to balance light and heavy, upper joy with lower gravity--a great reading.
Paul Schöffler, the possessor of a voice that never sounded young, is tonally a bit dry here but nonetheless does not present Sachs as an old man; he is vital and sure of himself. Sachs is a man who prods fate a bit, just because he can, and Schöffler sings with the assurance and potency and shading of a man of wisdom, his voice gaining in strength as the opera progresses. And his pianissimo singing is always handsome, never resorting to falsetto. His is the best Sachs on CD, bettering his own performance under Knappertsbusch on Decca.
Hans Beirer's Walther is neither as sweet and ardorous as Sandor Konya's nor as simply gorgeous as Domingo's (for Jochum on DG), and in fact he sounds indisposed. But his indisposition is only vocal, and while I realize how odd that sounds, his beautiful phrasing and shading, sincerity, vigor, and musicianship make up for a lack of grand tone and some dry singing. It's a performance impossible to dislike.
I was put off by Irmgard Seefried's Eva at first--her second act is too cutesy and pert--but she grows into the part and is lovely in the third act despite lacking anything like a trill. Gottlob Frick's Pogner is important. His address to the Masters in Act 1 has real authority and he's warm and tender with Eva in the second act. Erich Kunz sings all of Beckmesser's notes (save the silly falsetto high-A that ends his monolog in Sachs' shop) and has remarkable "face"; while we don't exactly feel sorry for him at the end, he clearly is not entirely mockable either. The David of Murray Dickie also is almost visible, and he sings with an impetuous young man's certainty, his high-Bs ringing out easily and pointedly. Rosette Anday's Magdalene is stodgy and hectoring; Eberhard Waechter's Nachtigall is mellifluous; and the other Mastersingers bark just a bit too much.
The sound is Austrian Radio mono from 1955 but sounds 10 years younger--grand and able to cope with the big climaxes, clear in the ensembles, clean in quiet moments. Aside from the Kubelik version (various labels, including Myto, Calig, Arts) with Thomas Stewart, Konya, and Gundula Janowitz, and possibly Solti's second recording (Decca) with Ben Heppner, Karita Mattila, and (small-scale but impressive) José van Dam, this set goes to the top of the list.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
The Butterfly Lovers / Lu Siqing, Taipei Chinese Orchestra
With an unparalleled potential for expressivity as well as for virtuoso display, the violin is one of the Western instruments that have been most warmly embraced by non-Western musical cultures. One example of this is The Butterfly Lovers' Violin Concerto, one of the best-loved classical compositions in China, and probably the Chinese work that is most often performed in Western concert halls. In China, the solo part is often transcribed for one of the traditional virtuoso instruments such as the erhu, but on the present recording it is instead the orchestral part that has been arranged for Chinese traditional orchestra, the eminent violinist Lu Siqing performing the concerto with the support of the Taipei Chinese Orchestra conducted by Chung Yiu-Kwong. The 25-minute concerto forms the grand finale of a programme which mixes Western and Chinese violin favourites, beginning most appropriately with Fritz Kreisler's Tambourin Chinois, but also taking in Sarasate's Zigeunerweisen and Tchaikovsky's Mélodie, all in arrangements made especially for this recording. The disc forms the sixth instalment in a series which features Western solo instruments against the thrilling soundscapes of the Chinese traditional orchestra. Reviewing previous discs, critics have been bowled over by an orchestra capable of 'evoking delicate playfulness, high drama, or the tranquillity of a misty Chinese valley with equal atmosphere' (Classic FM Magazine) and creating 'sounds that are mysterious, biting, intoxicating, and darned close to delirious' (Fanfare).
Dvorák: Music For Violin And Piano Vol 2 / Zhou, Battersby
Gulda & Weill: Concertos for Violin & Wind Orchestra