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SaleMozart: Piano Concertos Nos. 15 & 16 / Brautigam, Willens, Cologne Academy
BIS · Apr 2015SACD$21.99$15.99 -
Beethoven: Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 2 / Subdin, Vanska, Tapiola Sinfonietta
BIS · Apr 2017SACD$21.99 -
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Bach: Violin Concertos / Eschkenazy, Ogrintchouk, Concertgebouw Chamber Orchestra
PENTATONE · Oct 2012SACD$21.99 -
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Shostakovich: Cello Concertos 1 & 2 / Dindo, Noseda, Danish National Symphony
Chandos · Jan 2012SACD$21.99
Handel: Concerti Grossi Op. 3 / Mortensen, Concerto Copenhagen

Concerto Copenhagen’s performances ooze abundantly with charm, wisdom and warmth. Passages for recorders, oboes and bassoon during the Largo of Concerto No 1 in B flat are played exquisitely. Courtly rhythms spring disarmingly in the Vivace of Concerto No 2 in B flat…Lars Ulrik Mortensen’s harpsichord continuo is imaginative in its support for the intimate dialogue between two cellos and Frank de Bruine’s beautifully judged oboe solo. The Minuet that concludes Concerto No 4 in F major is correctly an elegant dance…Mortensen’s fluent playing of the tricky quick organ solos in the concluding Allegro are articulated flawlessly. Such classy moments make this one of the most endearing artistic interpretations of Op 3 in recent years...
-- David Vickers, Gramophone [6/2012]
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Handel’s op. 3 concerti grossi have long been viewed unfavorably in some critical circles thanks to the reflection cast by the composer’s superior op. 6 collection. Yet the earlier works are thematically attractive, rhythmically varied, and expertly sequenced, despite being constructed piecemeal out of music composed over a long period of time. They’ve proven popular as well with modern listeners as a whole, and there’s no danger of their falling out of circulation—not with more than 15 recordings available in the current catalog.
Lars Ulrik Mortensen’s approach is straightforward, and inclining a bit to the decorous side. He phrases elastically in the adagio of the Third Concerto (the alternative solo flute version, rather than the usual oboe), but not as freely as Egarr/Academy of Ancient Music (Harmonia Mundi 2908292). Again, the opening vivace of the Sixth Concerto moves along with stately pride, but it misses the snap of Egarr’s trills that give it a swaggering air, or the delicacy and fleet pacing of Creswick/Northern Sinfonia (Naxos 8.553457). Next to these two versions, there’s a slight facelessness to this album, despite the virtuosic performances of Concerto Copenhagen.
Which isn’t to discount it; those listeners who find the likes of Egarr or Creswick too characterful will probably prefer these readings. There’s a fine sense of energy, movement and balance to timbres from Mortensen in the Fourth Concerto’s Ouverture, and as in the fugal allegro of the Fifth Concerto, all lines are clearly exposed, easy to follow. Then, too, if he doesn’t accent as sharply as several others, Mortensen does use longer-held notes as one among several methods of accenting—a period-accurate point, and providing a subtle variation to the standard phrasing heard on most other discs.
My own preferences still lie with Egarr in a period-instrument mood, and with Iona Brown/Academy of St. Martin (Hänssler 98.918) when not: unsentimental, brightly articulated, dance-like where required, but capable of great flexibility. But there’s much to be said in favor of this expertly performed recording.
FANFARE: Barry Brenesal
Vasks: Viatore, Violin Concerto, Etc / Andreasson, Et Al
This disc offers the world première recording of Viatore ('The Wanderer', 2001), which may be described as a representation in sound of 'becoming' or 'passing' - a spiritual journey in familiar Vasks territory. All the works were recorded in the presence of the composer by the Swedish Chamber Orchestra - an ensemble whose previous BIS recordings have all been highly acclaimed. The orchestra's performances on one of their latest offerings - H.K. Gruber's Manhattan Broadcasts BIS-CD-1341) - were termed "masterful" (Gramophone), "a triumph" (BBC Music Magazine), and "superb" (The Times). Under the direction of the orchestra's leader Katarina Andreasson, who also performs the solo part of the violin concerto, the playing on the present disc is no less committed.
Sebastian Fagerlund: Drifts, Stonework & Guitar Concerto "Tr
Sebastian Fagerlund has been described as ‘a composer who commandingly bridges tradition and modernity’ (Klassik-Heute.de) while his music is ‘modern and unorthodox, opulent and strange, masterfully composed and orchestrated’ (MusicWeb-International). Previous acclaimed recordings on BIS include the chamber opera Döbeln, as well as orchestral works and concertos for clarinet, violin and bassoon respectively. Another concertante work froms part of the present programme: Transit for guitar and orchestra, written for Ismo Eskelinen who also performs it here. He is partnered by the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra and Hannu Lintu who have previously championed Fagerlund’s music: the orchestra has commissioned several works, including the guitar concerto as well as Drifts, the opening work here. The release takes its title from the third composition, Stonework, named after those man-made stone structures that are found all over the world, serving a range of purposes, from landmarks and navigational aids to burial monuments.
Telemann: Sonatas for Bassoon & Guitar
Cello Concerto / Double Bass Concerto / Moonburst
Mozart: Piano Concertos Nos. 15 & 16 / Brautigam, Willens, Cologne Academy
In May 1784, shortly after completing the two piano concertos recorded here, Mozart described them in a letter to his father as 'concertos which are bound to make the player sweat.’ In his correspondence he also pointed out the particular importance of the wind instruments in the two works. This is obvious already in the first movement of the Concerto in D major, K 451, which opens the disc: for long stretches Mozart revels in the soloistic capabilities of the winds and elsewhere he builds up chordal textures in which the winds’ distinctive colours dominate. In a similar manner, the winds take the lead from the very beginning of the B flat major concerto, K 450, with the strings answering. Throughout the movement, the woodwinds are absolutely vital to the narrative and Mozart playfully exploits the diverse colours of the winds, frequently featuring pairs of them playing in octaves: oboe/bassoon, oboe/horn or horn/bassoon. In the Andante the wind instruments are silent from start, but once they enter they again dominate in terms of colours. The delicacy of the piano writing throughout this movement adds to the very special quality of the concerto, in which Mozart seems to point the way towards Beethoven.
Previous discs in this series have earned distinctions such as Editor’s Choice (Gramophone), IRR Outstanding (International Record Review), ‘10’ (klassik-heute.de) and Disco excepcional (Scherzo). On their eighth instalment, Ronald Brautigam and Die Kölner Akademie have chosen to close the programme with a Rondo in D major, originally intended as a replacement finale for the Piano Concerto No.5, K 175. Offering a range of different moods and introducing a variety of quasi-operatic characters, the Rondo became greatly popular in Vienna and beyond, and was in fact sometimes published as a stand-alone work.
Beethoven: Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 2 / Subdin, Vanska, Tapiola Sinfonietta
On two previous albums, Yevgeny Sudbin and Osmo Vänskä have released Beethoven’s three last piano concertos to critical acclaim. Distinctions include Editor’s Choice in Gramophone and top marks from the Italian magazine Musica and the German website Klassik-Heute.de, and performances have been described as ‘electrifying’ (classicfm.com), ‘absolutely stunning’ (Fanfare) and ‘a Beethoven experience you will not want to miss’ (ClassicsToday.com). For the final release in their cycle, Sudbin and Vänskä have travelled to Helsinki to team up with Tapiola Sinfonietta, one of the top Nordic ensembles, and well suited for these earlier and more classical of Beethoven’s concertos. Of the two, the one we now know as the Second was actually begun several years before Concerto No. 1, and indeed even before Beethoven left Bonn for Vienna. During the following decade, Beethoven returned to the score repeatedly and made substantial revisions – including composing a new final movement – and ultimately the C major concerto reached publication first. Both concertos were conceived long before Beethoven's involvement with the symphonic genre, and the influence of Mozart and Haydn is evident in the interaction between the orchestra and the soloist – but Beethoven's individual spirit is nevertheless unmistakeable.
VIVALDI: Chamber Concertos
Haydn: Concertos/ Müller-brühl, Babanov, Hoeren, Schuster
Perhaps it’s a terrible admission to make, but much as I love Haydn, I have never really warmed to his concertos. Here, I thought, was the father of the Symphony as we know it today, the String Quartet as we know it today, and the foundation of opera. OK, I know that Mozart had an hand in the development of all these forms but it was Haydn who got things going. Sure enough, there’s drama and poetry aplenty in the pieces mentioned but concertos? Where’s the dramatic interplay between soloist and orchestra? Where’s the element of man standing alone against the crowd?
Then along comes this disk and I suddenly have to re–think my position. It had never dawned on me that the concept of protagonist and lynch mob hadn’t been invented at the time Haydn was writing his concerted works. So now I can see them in a different light for what they are – wonderful entertainment music with prominent parts for solo instruments.
I’m glad that I’ve been able to change my views and can now enjoy these works for they are delightful. The Horn Concerto which opens the disk is full of good things, the writing for horn is certainly virtuosic – the range which Haydn demands of his performer is phenomenal – and here Babanov is quite happy whether he plays in the highest or lowest registers. Haydn goes to both extremes and exploits the full range of the instrument. The work also includes two quite taxing cadenzas. It is thought that the work was written for Joseph Leutgeb, the recipient of Mozart’s four Horn Concertos - he must have been some player! And what a lucky man to have five such magnificent works created for him!
The Harpsichord Concerto is full of great jokes. I especially love the jumping frog impression which the keyboard undertakes at 1:37 in the first movement. There’s lots of interplay between soloist and orchestra, more than in the wind concertos, but this is probably because Haydn knew that his soloist wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the accompaniment as easily as in the other works. The slow movement contains many little jokes with grace notes cheekily sticking their noses into the serious business of tunefulness. The finale is simply a fast romp.
The Double Concerto is thought to have started life as a work for organ. It is considered to have been performed for the solemn profession of Therese Keller, Haydn’ future sister–in–law, as a nun in 1756 – the proof being that the range used by the fortepiano is restricted to the range of the contemporary Viennese organ. Certainly, this is a more serious work, more stately, than the others contained herein. The two soloists never engage in overt display and more often than not they connect in harmonious duet. Rather lovely it is, too. The finale is fast and joyful, but there’s still a serious undertone to the music.
Thanks to the solo trumpet repertoire being quite small, until contemporary composers started writing for it, Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto has become very well known. It’s a true virtuoso work with a gorgeous slow movement and a racy finale.
The performances here are first class, with lots of life and a real period feel. There’s nothing prissy or restrained about them - they’re really very alive. Thoroughly enjoyable.
I must make two points. First of all, in almost every movement, for reasons best known to himself, Müller–Brühl insists on making huge rallentandi at the ends of movements. This ruins the flow of what has gone before. It is a blemish on the performances.
My second point is rather more important. The sound is in Naxos’s best manner – bright and clear. In the Trumpet Concerto the balance between soloist and orchestra is perfect. The whole sound is well focused and there is a good relationship between listener and performer. However, in the other three works the recording is very close which slightly distorts the sound-picture as everything comes across as being overblown. The obviously small string orchestra ends up sounding like a small orchestra which has been over–amplified. This is most noticeable in the slow movements where a more intimate atmosphere is required than in the faster pieces. If you turn the volume down in the hope of taming the sound you lose some of the presence of the performances. This is a shame for these are spritely performances which are real winners and will do much to make these works better known to the public.
This is well worth having, despite my reservations about the sound. If you can tame it ever so slightly – it doesn’t need much – you’ll have a really good time listening to very pleasurable music.
-- Bob Briggs, MusicWeb International
VIVALDI IN PRAGUE
Wilms: The Piano Concertos, Vol. 1 / Brautigam, Willens, Cologne Academy
Works for Bassoon & Strings
Bach: Violin Concertos / Eschkenazy, Ogrintchouk, Concertgebouw Chamber Orchestra
There is very little to criticise here, and these are all very fine performances. The sound is pretty crisp supporting an historically informed approach with brisk tempi, a discretely balanced harpsichord helping things along and admirable transparency of texture and articulation. Perhaps the orchestral sound could be a little better defined, with the strings behind the soloists sounding a bit generalised even in SACD mode, but this is a minor point. Brisk tempi means we don’t have the same kind of profundity in the beautiful Largo, ma non tanto second movement of the Double Concerto, but we’ve moved on from the kinds of romantic atmosphere beloved of David and Igor Oistrakh. This is a kind of mixture between worlds, with fairly rich vibrato in the solo lines to go along with the early-music flavour of the general approach. Comparing with Monica Huggett and Alison Bury with Ton Koopman on the Erato label shows very similar timings but a far lighter, chamber-music sonority and a reluctance to play with legato lines. Tighter rhythms and a livelier sonic picture can be found on the BIS label, where Masaaki Suzuki’s Bach Collegium Japan make a superb job of these concertos on BIS-CD-961, showing how the orchestra can play a more pro-active role while almost turning the soloists into consort members rather than giving them their more usual prominence.
So much of what will turn you on in such recordings is a question of taste, and to my ears there is nothing which offends in this Pentatone Bach recording. BWV 1043 doesn’t quite bring a tear to the eye as it can do with some versions, but I still like it a great deal. The solo violin concertos BWV 1041 and BWV 1042 move along decently, though the rhythms might have been a bit more bouncy in the outer movements. The first movement of BWV 1041 for instance, has an intensely narrative feel which Suzuki obtains in his BIS recording, but which is a touch soggy here - a sensation which comes from that rather generalised backing to the soloist. Timings are a little longer, but not in any extreme way. I love Eschkenazy’s restraint in the Andante of BWV 1041, and his gorgeously humane solo lines are ultimately the main selling point of this particular set.
The final D minor concerto BWV 1060, the one reconstructed from a C minor concerto for two harpsichords works well in this recording, with Ogrintchouk’s rich oboe tone mixing very nicely with the strings and Eschkenazy’s partnering solo, brought down a little in the balance to combine on an equal footing and keep a realistic balance with the orchestra.
To conclude, this is a highly desirable recording of the Bach violin concertos, but alas won’t become my all-time favourite. I enjoy the period sound and all of the solo playing, but the somewhat anonymous orchestral backing detracts a little from the overall effect. It’s a different prospect, but Masaaki Suzuki’s more inclusive ensemble is more satisfying to my ears, though admittedly fitting less into conventional expectations of the ‘concerto’ format. In the end, there is no real problem with this recording other than that there are so many others jostling for our attention. The SACD aspect is an attraction, but doesn’t solve that mildly beige orchestral tapestry which prevents me from making this a list of purely admiring superlatives.
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
Mozart: Flute Concertos
J.S. BACH CONCERTOS FOR HARPSICHORD & STRINGS; BWV
Mudge: 6 Concertos In Seven Parts / Capriccio Basel
MUDGE Concertos: No. 1 in D; 1 No. 2 in B?; No. 3 in G; No. 4 in d; No. 5 in B?; No. 6 in F. 2 Non nobis, Domine 3,4,5 • Dominik Kiefer (vn, cond); Henry Moderlak (tpt); 1 Marc Meisel (org); 2 Michael Feyfar (ten); 3 Raitis Grigalis (bar); 4 González Arroniz (bs); 5 Capriccio Basel (period instruments) • TUDOR 7173 (75:41)
A graduate of Pembroke College, Oxford, Reverend Richard Mudge (1718–1763) was appointed curate of both Great and Little Packington in 1741. He may have been private chaplain to Lord Guernsey, who would later become the Earl of Aylesford. The family had significant musical connections, the best known being Handel’s friend and librettist, Charles Jennens. In 1750, Mudge obtained a position at St. Martin’s, Birmingham, where he became a popular preacher. In 1756, we find him in the post of rector at Bedworth, where he lived until his death. Even though Mudge’s liturgical career is well documented, there is almost nothing pertaining to his musical pursuits.
Two collections of Mudge’s music have recently been discovered; both seem to have their origins during his years in service to Lord Aylesford. Most of the material appears to be preliminary versions of this set of concertos, published in 1749. Concertos for strings were quite popular at the time, selling well in a market geared to the desires of talented amateur performers. While the solo parts require performers whose skills are well above the mean, many provincial music societies included collections such as this in their repertoire. The set is scored in seven parts: a concertino of two violins and cello and a ripieno of two violins, viola, bass, and basso continuo . The First Concerto adds a trumpet to the ripieno and the Sixth includes a solo organ part that is modeled along the lines of Handel’s organ concertos. The remaining concertos follow the slow-fast-slow-fast pattern found in the concertos of Corelli and Geminiani, indicating that Mudge may have spent some time studying works by those composers in Lord Aylesford’s collection.
The text of the three-part motet, Non nobis, Domine , comes from the opening of Psalm 113. The two melodic components—by Belgian Phillip van Wilder and Englishman William Byrd—were quite popular with Jacobites who refused to attend services of the Church of England. It expressed their solidarity with the Stuart dynasty and their rejection of the reigning monarch. As a footnote of sorts, the first appearance in English of both the music and text was around 1620.
The Baroque orchestra Capriccio Basel was founded in 1999, and their first decade has included concerts in France, Hungary, the United States, and appearances at several German festivals. Their collaborators include Andrew Parrott, Monica Huggett, and Gottfried von der Goltz. The orchestra’s Web site includes other releases, including one of concertos by William Hayes, which I hope to have in hand in the near future.
The music is not revelatory; it walks down a path that has been previously traveled by the likes of other Englishmen including John Stanley, Charles Avison, and John Hebden. But to Capriccio Basel, Mudge’s music is singular, and their beautifully manicured interpretations compel much admiration. Under the direction of Concert Master Dominik Kiefer, the orchestra and soloists exhibit a fine sense of elegance and generous vitality as well. Capriccio Basel displays a rare sense of dedication in this release; it is apparent at every turn by way of their meticulous attention to each and every detail, be it written or implied. Impeccable ensemble and precise intonation are the hallmarks of these praiseworthy sessions. These passionate and sympathetic interpretations have brought belated credit to this consistently charming music, music that has been awaiting rediscovery for far too long.
FANFARE: Michael Carter
Mayr: Telemaco / Hauk, Concerto De Bassus
Mayr's Telemaco was a product of turbulent political times in the Republic of Venice, which had been occupied by Napoleon's troops in late 1796. Military elements, with incorporated marches, feature strongly in a score that brought to contemporary Venetian theatre many of the innovative elements that were in vogue on the operatic stages of Paris. Taking classical Greek mythological material, Mayr fashioned an opera full of colour, interweaving instrumental interludes and dances into his arias, cavatinas and choruses, and crafting his own very personal vision of the nwe Italian opera seria.
Three New Concertos for Bass Clarinet
Shostakovich: Cello Concertos 1 & 2 / Dindo, Noseda, Danish National Symphony
SHOSTAKOVICH Cello Concertos: No. 1; No. 2 • Enrico Dindo (vc); Gianandrea Noseda, cond; Danish Natl SO • CHANDOS 5093 (SACD: 60:13)
So many cello concerti, so little time. With dozens of competing versions of these two interpretively rich, emotionally ripe scores—the majority of them first-class accounts that come critically recommended, if with some reservations—it’s cost- and time-prohibitive to be familiar with them all. Mørk? Maslennikov? Müller-Schott? What’s a conscientious reviewer to do? Well, yours truly is tempted to fall back on the tried-and-true, which, after all, is tried and true for good reason. That means Mstislav Rostropovich. Of his several recordings, I opt for the mid-’60s performances powerfully conducted by David Oistrakh, not easy to find but most recently sighted on the Yedang Classics label. The sound is a little rough, but no one matches Rostropovich’s passion and profundity in this music.
Nevertheless, that said, there’s always room for a convincing alternative approach, and Enrico Dindo’s is some distance from that of Rostropovich. Though he’s apparently recorded programs of Beethoven and Bach, only a 1998 release of the Brahms cello sonatas is currently listed in the Fanfare Archive. Michael Jameson called it “satisfying” ( Fanfare 21: 6), and tellingly described Dindo’s point of view as one of “letting the music (rather than any gesture intended to propel a subjective vision of the text) speak for itself.” I find that to be an accurate characterization of his approach to Shostakovich as well. Dindo’s tone is silky and sinewy, and he definitely has the chops to respond to everything Shostakovich asks for—from the buoyant rhythms of the First Concerto to the sustained introspection of the Second. He favors fast, clean lines in the First Concerto, which emphasize its satiric edge in ways reminiscent of the composer’s earlier, youthful impulsiveness (despite the fact that it was written in his 53rd year), though neither slighting, nor exaggerating, the second movement’s elegiac lyricism. In the darker Second Concerto, he adopts an appropriately serious demeanor, providing a consistent, fluid line that lacks Rostropovich’s bite, but allows the music to sing its own eloquent, if dolorous, song. In this his resembles Heinrich Schiff’s attentive, persuasive 1984 performance (Philips), although Schiff benefited from Maxim Shostakovich’s strong, emphatically pointed accompaniment, whereby Gianandrea Noseda, following Dindo’s lead, particularly in the Second Concerto provides ever-so-slightly less dramatic, albeit scrupulously detailed, support.
I suspect these are performances that will retain their interest over time. Add Enrico Dindo’s name to the list of recommended cellists in this significant repertoire.
FANFARE: Art Lange
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These two concertos form a pairing which is logical and convenient but by no means ubiquitous. The Cello Concerto No. 1 is the more widely recorded of the two, with impressive accounts from the likes of Han-Na Chang, and the more enduring dedicatee’s version, Mstislav Rostropovich with Eugene Ormandy in 1959 and now available on Sony Classical. One of the best discs of these two works is with Rafa? Kwiatkowski on the Dux label. Aside from Peter Wispelwey’s recording of the Cello Concerto No. 2 along with Britten’s Third Suite on Challenge Classics, there doesn’t seem to be much choice in this repertoire when it comes to SACD recordings, so this Chandos release enters the market with a useful USP.
Enrico Dindo won the Rostropovich Cello Competition in 1997 and has been performing widely since, also making recordings which have included Bach’s Suites and Vivaldi Concertos on Italian Decca. His playing here is remarkably rich, obtaining deep and richly expressive tones from a Rogeri instrument from 1717. The cello sound is forward, bordering on the surrealist as with so many concerto recordings these days, but not intolerably massive in relation to the orchestra. In fact this is one of the genuine strengths of this recording, with masses of colour and detail from a very powerful sounding Danish National Symphony Orchestra. The opening of the Cello Concerto No. 1 throws down the gauntlet in this regard, the double-bassoon sounding like you’ve never heard it in any other recording; dug into with such gusto that you’d expect the floor to shake and the keys to be shaken off by the vibrations. The excitement in the playing is in its shaping and development, building stirring structures rather than hitting us constantly with masses of relentless intensity. The horn-calls are also marvellous in this first Allegretto, woodwinds competing with the soloist through grating dissonance and dramatic release. Perhaps the strings could have had more presence to make the whole thing a tad more credible. They should come into their own in that most gorgeous and moving of Shostakovich statements, the central Moderato. Even here though, the first horn entry far outweighs the texture of the entire body of strings. Behind the soloist they do seem to be rather at a disadvantage in the balance. Just taking one comparison, that with Thorleif Thedéen and James DePreist on the BIS label, the balance brings the strings that much more into the picture. This allows a more equal interaction which can carry greater emotional heft. Thedéen is a little more heart-on-sleeve than Dindo, with a tighter vibrato and a more vocal way of expressing the melodic lines. I wouldn’t swap this BIS disc for the Chandos one now, but still find it has a good deal to offer.
Whether or not you find the recorded balance a problem, Enrico Dindo’s solo lines carry so much emotional strength that you will find yourself gripped from beginning to end. One of my old favourites for these pieces is from Truls Mørk with the London Philharmonic and Mariss Jansons on the Virgin Classics label. Certain aspects of Noseda’s approach do remind me of the Jansons recording, but I have to admit that Dindo gets as much and more out of the music than almost any rival I can name. Like the texture in the inky lines of a Ralph Steadman drawing, Dindo delights in thickening and thinning sustained notes so that we are constantly in a state of awe and expectation, even when Shostakovich is in passages of transition. Listen in the Moderato to the general sonic picture at about 7:00 and on though: the intensity of the upper strings in the orchestra is almost entirely absent, which undermines at least some of that good work. Dindo’s expressive playing gives the impression of space, but Noseda’s tempi are generally a tad more brisk and compact than many. Jansons takes 12:32 with this Moderato for instance, compared to Noseda’s 10:50.
The rough peasant feel in the final movement of this first concerto is something to relish; the aural glue not quite holding together as the winds advance in the balance and give us a kick from time to time. It has an undeniable grip and snatch flowing from Noseda’s treatment, an uncompromising approach which drags us along mercilessly and never lets go.
Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No. 2 is dark from the outset, the mood superbly set through the solo cello and lower strings in the opening bars. The imagination is teased by fragmentary moments of brooding beauty, such as the repeated double-stop gesture at around 4 minutes in. This is a bleak landscape and the kind of inner journey which can lead you to places both moving and disturbing. Dindo speaks emotively, the sighing downward gestures weighed with tears, the parlando moments confiding and gruff by turns. Shostakovich’s score in the first movement is as hard as nails, and the players nail it firmly. The bass drum thwacks from around 9:20 are an audiophile treat as well.
The acoustic space is emphasised in the open textures of the opening to the central Allegretto, and the sense of volume in the 5.0 SACD surround mix is very tactile indeed. Listen to the laughing winds from about 2:30: the playing is not only needle sharp, but is also filled with personality and character throughout. The theatricality of the opening to the final Allegretto has rarely been so sharply observed, and you expect an announcement from a melodramatic actor as much as you do the entry of the cello. Those ‘nice’ tunes as they arrive are all the more earth-shatteringly emotive for these extremes of contrast. Little operatic touches and that late-Shostakovich sense of a fatefully ticking time-bomb make the whole thing as touching and filled with narrative import as I can ever remember hearing.
Chandos easily replaces its earlier release of this repertoire with Frans Helmerson and the Russian State Symphony Orchestra on CHAN 10040. This has some lovely playing and a decent concert hall balance, but with somewhat rough-and-ready qualities from the orchestra in some of the more technically demanding passages. Fans of these two concertos simply must have this recording from Dindo/Noseda. The cover photo of Red Square is strikingly atmospheric, and there are good booklet notes and pictures inside as well. Despite my reservations about the string balance which admittedly affects the scoring of the first concerto more than the second, this is a must-have and a life-changer for Shostakovich fans.
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
Oystein Baadsvik Plays Tuba Concertos
The Arctic Philharmonic, one of the world’s newest – it was formed in 2009 – also has the distinction of being the most northerly on the planet. It’s not a band I’ve encountered before, but given Lindberg’s work with diverse ensembles – most recently the Royal Flemish Philharmonic – I’d say they are in very capable hands. That’s evident in the three-movement Baadsvik concerto which although not an instant hit grows more delightful with each hearing. Directed with commendable flair and enthusiasm the piece also highlights Baadsvik the soloist’s dexterity and finesse. His secure, nicely nuanced tone us nothing short of remarkable; the essentially songful central movement and its quiet, sustained close are simply gorgeous.
What I find endearing about this concerto is that it never overworks its material or outstays its welcome; that’s more than I can say for the stern, somewhat lugubrious Ness piece, a Baadsvik commission. Curiously the start brings to mind the deathly tread of Mahler’s Abschied; not what Ness intended, I’m sure. The liner-notes rather unhelpfully describe his current style as a blend of ‘post punk and ambient music’. I’m bemused by such statements, especially when they don’t offer an obvious entrée to the music being played. The composer doesn’t help by describing the title thus: ‘Bogey Thresher is a threshing machine for ghosts, i.e. a machine designed to harvest spectres.’ Despite some virtuosic playing from Baadsvik there’s rather more chaff than wheat here.
Lindberg is not at all precocious about Panda in Love, which he explains is nothing more than a juxtaposition of personal experiences and ‘mental images’. I suspect if instruments were animals the tubby tuba might just qualify as an Ailuropoda melanoleuca; indeed, the instrument’s full, ripe lower registers are very much to the fore and this, together with nimble rhythms, whoops and scale-like passages, makes for an inventive and witty display. The recording is equally impressive, although it does benefit from some extra ‘wellie’ — i.e. volume.
Two of the three concertos are well worth hearing; Baadsvik shines throughout.
– Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International