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The Soviet Experience, Vol. 2 / Pacifica Quartet

Cedille

$19.99 Mar 27, 2012

SHOSTAKOVICH String Quartets: Nos. 1–4. PROKOFIEV String Quartet No. 2 • Pacifica Qrt • ÇEDILLE 30 (2 CDs: 129:17)

Sooner or later, most contributors to this journal are bound to receive letters from disgruntled readers and the occasional colleague complaining about what they perceive to be an unfairly negative review, or even an unfairly positive one. But I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever been chided by a colleague as I was by Peter J. Rabinowitz in Fanfare 35:4 for submitting an enthusiastic review that wasn’t enthusiastic enough. In a second-opinion follow-up to my review of Volume 1 of the Pacifica Quartet’s new Shostakovich cycle, Rabinowitz took exception to my “Goldilocks” analogy in which I stated that the Pacifica’s performances struck me as “j-u-s-t right.”

Although I never got to review the Pacifica’s complete Mendelssohn quartets, they showed up on a couple of Want Lists, and in a number of reviews of Mendelssohn quartet recordings by other ensembles, I’ve repeatedly singled out the Pacifica’s version as equaling, if not surpassing, the Emerson’s set. So, as a rejoinder to Rabinowitz, let me just say for the record that I agree with him that the Pacifica’s Shostakovich is not “middle of the road,” and by “j-u-s-t right” I didn’t mean to imply that the ensemble’s performances straddled the fence or clung to the median strip running down the center of the highway. There is no better string quartet on the scene today than the Pacifica. In terms of technical precision and keenness of musical insight, the Pacifica is the true inheritor of the Emerson’s crown and, in warmth of tone and emotional responsiveness, I often find the Pacifica superior to the Emerson.

That said, there is not the slightest doubt in my mind that once the Pacifica has completed its Shostakovich cycle it will be among the top two or three to have, those others being the aforesaid Emerson and what some consider to be the definitive Fitzwilliam. With this release of Volume 2, the Pacifica has now crossed the ocean more than halfway. Eight of the 15 quartets have now been committed to disc—Nos. 5–8 in Volume 1, and now Nos. 1–4 here. And as in the previous volume, the MO is to include another roughly contemporaneous string quartet by another Russian composer. In Volume 1 it was Miaskovsky; here it’s Prokofiev.

Shostakovich’s quartets span a period of 36 years; the first was written in 1938, the last in 1974. The four quartets heard here are the composer’s earliest, though in the overall chronology of his works, you could say that he got a relatively late start in the quartet-writing business. He’d already written his first five symphonies by 1937, before his first quartet was even a twinkle in his ear.

As he is quoted in Shostakovich: A Life Remembered , it was the composer’s intention to write 24 quartets following a cyclic progression of major and minor keys. Unlike Bach, however, who proceeded through the keys by semitone, or Chopin, who in his 24 preludes proceeded via the Circle of Fifths, Shostakovich adopted a unique scheme of his own. He proceeds—at least in the 15 quartets he managed to write—more or less by submediants (by sixths). The first six quartets, all in major, follow the pattern. C, A, F, D, B?, G—A being a sixth above C, F being a sixth above A, and so on. But then something goes askew with the plan. No. 7 should have been in E?, but instead Shostakovich throws a monkeywrench into the works by giving us a quartet in F?-Minor. No. 8 returns to the pattern with C Minor, which would have been the submediant of No. 7 if No. 7 had followed the plan and been in E?. Another deviation comes with No. 10, which is also in the “wrong” key from what it should be, but the pattern resumes once again with No. 11.

In a fascinating analysis of the quartets (quartets.de/index.html), one Ian Strachan explains that “the insertion of F?-Minor and the effective rotation of E? sharp major [ sic ] and C minor were done so that quartet number nine would be written in E?-Major and quartet number 16 in B Major. By doing so Shostakovich would ensure that his initials (DSCH) were used as the keys in quartets whose number are a perfect square (D Major: quartet number four or 2 squared; S, in the German notation or E?-Major in the English: quartet number nine or 3 squared; C Major: quartet number one or 1 squared; and H or B Major in the English notation as quartet number 16, or 4 squared). So it seems that Shostakovich, a tonal composer who delighted in keeping detailed numerical records of football scores, indulged in numerical as well as musical ciphers.”

In a way, I suppose, this tends to reinforce something I’ve said before about Shostakovich’s quartets, not that they’re all alike, but that there’s a prevailing sense of continuity in the musical discourse that makes them seem like one cogent and coherent conversation from beginning to end, which, of course, could be advanced as an argument for listening to them in order. Still, the above bit of clever mathematical manipulation presumes the existence of a 16th which was never written, as well as the continuation of the pattern all the way through to a nonexistent final 24th quartet. You’ve got to love stuff like this; it can be so earnest in its pursuit of the Delphic. Or, as the oracle once said, “Pi are square, cake are round.”

Nonetheless, I would urge you to visit the website because it goes way beyond the tortured math I’ve touched on here. It also provides a detailed history, description, and analysis of every single quartet.

The First Quartet, for the most part, is a bouncy, one might almost say joyful, thing. The coruscating harmonies, rhythmic ostinatos, and pervasive gloom we often associate with Shostakovich’s music are saved for the later quartets.

The austerity and menace begin to creep in as early as the Second Quartet. The Soviet victory over Hitler’s army was near in the early fall of 1944 when Shostakovich composed the work, practically in the same breath as his famous E-Minor Piano Trio, but he wasn’t in a celebratory mood. There’s a Russianness or East European Jewishness to the melodic and harmonic material, which often sounds like it’s derived from folk songs and klezmer dances soured and bent out of shape by Shostakovich’s parodying techniques.

Superficially, the Third Quartet (1946) bears some resemblance to the First Quartet in its opening swagger and jaunty Haydnesque character, but it’s a cheerfulness colored by disappointment and disillusion. The piece was written on the eve that ushered in the dark days of the Zhdanov denouncement and the targeting of Soviet artists and intellectuals. Shostakovich’s state of mind is reflected in the fact that the Third Quartet is the only work he wrote during this year.

The Fourth Quartet (1949) ran into resistance for other reasons and of a different sort. Characterized as another of his “Jewish” works—though not Jewish, Shostakovich was drawn to Jewish musical and cultural themes throughout his life—the Fourth Quartet appeared at exactly the time that the Cold War was heating up, anti-Semitism was once again on the rise (if it had ever abated), and Stalin was gleefully engaged in another round of persecution and purges. The horror is made manifest in the leering danse macabre of the concluding Allegretto, one of the standout movements in the entire quartet cycle.

For Prokofiev the string quartet plays a far less central role in his output; he wrote only two, the first in 1930, and the second, included in the present set, in 1941. Writing string quartets was not a particularly self-motivated or self-fulfilling effort for him, and this, his second go at the medium, was apparently not even his idea. Having been sent to a Soviet outpost presumed safe from Germany’s invading forces, Prokofiev was encouraged to write a string quartet based on the Kabardino-Balkar folk themes common to the North Caucasus region to which he and other artists had been evacuated. He seems to have warmed to the idea, producing a fine example of abstract music inspired by authentic folk elements.

In every single movement of Shostakovich’s quartets and in the Prokofiev, the Pacifica Quartet penetrates to the very heart and soul of the music. What stands out—matters of technical precision and ensemble blending and balance are givens—is the way in which the players probe for and reveal amazing details even in passages that, superficially, may seem to present relatively flat surfaces unlikely to yield much in the way of dimensionality, such as the Adagio of the Third Quartet. But under inspection of the Pacifica’s microscope, the music displays a topography filled with hidden peaks and valleys. It’s this intellectual curiosity to explore, wedded to largesse of emotional expressivity that makes these performances special.

I hope Rabinowitz takes this to be the fervently enthusiastic recommendation intended.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

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The Soviet Experience, Vol. 2 / Pacifica Quartet
Cedille Mar 2012
CD
$19.99

The Young Friedrich Gulda

Profil

$27.99 Sep 02, 2022

Friedrich Gulda was born in Vienna on May 16, 1930. He began his musical education at the Grossmann Conservatory and subsequently took private lessons from Felix Pazofsky. From 1942 to 1947 he studied piano at the Vienna Academy of Music under Bruno Seidlhofer and Music Theory and Composition under Joseph Marx. He gave his first public performance in 1944 and, two years later when just 16 years old, won the Geneva International Music Competition. Starting after the Second World War, as a 20-year-old, Gulda established himself as a piano soloist with an excellent international reputation and even performed at Carnegie Hall in New York City in 1950. In the 1950s he was celebrated and considered the leading interpreter of Beethoven in his generation. He founded his own Klassische Orchester Gulda for chamber music with members of the Vienna Symphony Orchestra.

In addition to Beethoven, Gulda’s repertoire encompasses works by Johann Sebastian Bach, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Franz Schubert, Frédéric Chopin, Claude Debussy, Maurice Ravel and Richard Strauss, whose Burleske in D minor and lieder are included in this release, with Gulda accompanying soprano Hilde Güden. Gulda was essentially an out-and-out contrarian who showed that a great genius can sometimes be only a step away from a certain madness. While Karl Böhm or Rubinstein admired him as a magnificently talented interpreter of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven, Gulda could also be provocative – including inciting his fellow concert pianists. Asked about Vladimir Horowitz, Gulda once responded: “Horowitz is a master. Because he is able to do – whatever he wants,” but also added: “But what he is after doesn’t interest me” (Joachim Kaiser).

REVIEW:
Friedrich Gulda (1930-2000) was certainly never a conformist pianist. But he was less flamboyant in his youth than in his later years, and he did present new perspectives at the beginning of his career, which helped to provoke a change in thinking. The recordings in this CD box set date from this period.

He recorded the freshly perky Mozart Sonata K. 576 in 1948, and both Concertos K. 503 and 537 in 1955 with the New Symphony Orchestra under Anthony Collins. Gulda’s fresh yet nuanced playing compensates for the weak orchestra’s playing. The Beethoven sonatas Nos. 4, 7, 8 and 19 show the still searching Gulda of 1955 on his way to the 1967 complete recording. The 3rd CD includes the concerto piece by Carl Maria von Weber and the Strauss Burlesque, as well as a set of Strauss songs that Gulda recorded with Hilde Güden in 1956. These are wonderful interpretations of rare freshness and suppleness. Güden’s silvery timbre and her confidently controlled, light vocal line coupled with Gulda’s spontaneous and sensitive playing make for an uncommonly natural performance.

Recorded in 1954, Chopin’s compositions, the 4 Ballades and the 1st Piano Concerto, are among Gulda’s ‘immortal’ recordings. In the 1st Piano Concerto, Gulda collaborates with the more traditional Adrian Boult, but it is precisely the contrast in temperament that leads to special tension and dynamics. This recording has been available several times on various labels, but here it definitely sounds in the best quality so far. Also very exciting are the four ballads, which he plays dramatically and narratively.

Debussy and Ravel, the composers represented on CDs Nos. 5 and 6 of this box, have been Gulda’s recurring preoccupation. The early recordings from 1953 and 1955 may not yet be as stylistically tested on the hard, sharp and pithy of jazz as the late recordings, but their analytically modern style, with clear, precise lines and contours and good transparency, shows the intellectual brilliance of these interpretations.

The bottom line is that this encounter with the young Gulda is a very important one that should help one understand the older musician and could help bring respect to Gulda among those who did not appreciate his later work as much.

-- Pizzicato

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The Young Friedrich Gulda
Profil Sep 2022
CD
$27.99

Bartok & Kodaly: The Complete String Quartets

Foghorn Classics

$37.99 Jan 01, 2013

BARTÓK String Quartets No. 1–6. KODÁLY String Quartets Nos. 1 and 2 • Alexander Str Qrt • FOGHORN 2009 (3 CDs: 205:55)

This fascinating set combines the string quartets of two then-young professors of music in Hungary, Béla Bartók and Zoltan Kodály. It’s an interesting set even though Bartók wrote a half-dozen quartets, which have since become staples of string quartets around the world, whereas Kodály only wrote two which are not as frequently programmed. Nor are the Kodály quartets as frequently recorded: ArkivMusic lists only one other recording of the First Quartet, by the Kontra Quartet (BIS 564), and only seven other recordings of Kodály’s No. 2, of which three are historical performances (the Végh Quartet, 1951, on Orfeo 316931; the Hungarian Quartet, 1952, on Music & Arts; and the Hollywood String Quartet, 1958, on Testament). Bartók beat Kodály to his First Quartet by a matter of months, the premiere occurring on January 27, 1909. Both composers worked on their second quartets during the harsh period of the First World War, and both works also had their premieres in 1918. For whatever reason, Kodály stopped at this point, whereas Bartók wrote four more quartets.

Comparing the Emerson Quartet’s performances of the First and Third Bartók quartets to the Alexander’s (I really didn’t have time to do the entire set, but these two quartets provide a good basis, the First being from Bartók’s earlier period and the Third coming from 1927), I found interesting if subtle points of comparison. But my Fanfare colleague Art Lange, upon reviewing the Emerson set when it was reissued in 2007, went even further back, comparing it to the performances of the Hungarian Quartet, and noted the earlier group’s “looser, albeit dramatic approach” in which the Hungarians “take a few liberties with pauses and tempos” and “have a better feel for the folk elements,” though—and I stress this—the earlier group tended to lessen “the accumulated tension” and “exaggerate more of the mysterious and atmospheric passages.” This trend, then, is simply turned up a notch in intensity and continuity by the Alexander, bringing us a tad further forward from the folk style that Bartók used.

With the Third Quartet, Bartók’s most astringent, compact, and dense work of the six, the style of playing is virtually identical in the case of both the Emerson and the Alexander: sonorities are lean, attacks are sharp, and the musical contours angular. There aren’t many interpretive options in this particular piece. But in the First Quartet (as well as in the first movement of the Second, which I also compared), there are decided differences in approach and style. The Emerson employs particularly broad tempos in the opening movement of the First Quartet, taking a leisurely 9:16 compared to the Alexander’s 8: 30. There is also greater warmth in the Emerson’s sound: whether this is a condition of their actual timbres or simply advantageous microphone placement, I don’t know. Of course, the leaner, brighter quality of the Alexander’s recording is entirely appropriate to modern music, particularly the modern music that emerged after Bartók’s death, and even within the context of these six quartets their performances set a very high standard.

As an example, I felt that the Alexander’s performance of the First Quartet’s opening movement, though less leisurely in feeling, has a tensile quality that immerses the listener in Bartók’s unique sound world and holds your attention. It is almost as if the Alexander’s players had the entire score in their heads, could “see” the music progressing as one continuous flow from first note to last, and thus propelled it into the ether for the benefit of the microphones. They do not, thankfully, play mechanically, the music being produced with almost explosive energy and drama. Yet if one goes by timings, the evidence is not always in the Emerson’s favor. The Alexander nearly always takes the fast movements just as fast if not faster than the Emerson, whereas their slow movements are generally (but not always) more relaxed, an exception being the Lento Finale of the Second Quartet, which the Emerson explores in 9:18 while the Alexander gets it done in 7: 38. As I say, tempos do not always indicate phrasing, but a performance nearly two minutes shorter simply has to be taken faster. What’s interesting, however, is that by and large the Alexander’s performance only sounds a little faster, and once again it ties this movement into the overall fabric—the continuity—of the Quartet as a whole.

The Alexander also finds moments of repose within their forward momentum; it’s just that their moments of repose are subtler, less easily discernible as pauses in the music (comparing it to literature, one might say commas in the musical sentences). To a large extent, Bartók’s six quartets are the 20th-century equivalent of Beethoven’s late quartets, and one can most certainly make a generalization between the way earlier string quartets such as the Rosé played them—with a certain amount of gemütlich, more portamento than we are used to today, and more astringent string tone due to the musicians’ more frequent (but not constant) use of straight tone—and the way we’ve come to hear them since the days of the Budapest Quartet, surely the first “modern” string quartet in terms of tautness and ensemble virtuosity, and the Yale Quartet, whose 1961 recordings of these thorny works set new standards. We simply can’t go back to the Rosé Quartet and hear their performances of Beethoven as being within our conception of the music; yet both as a quartet leader and as concertmaster of the Vienna Philharmonic, Arnold Rosé’s artistry and integrity as a musician was utterly beyond question.

I mention this in connection to these performances because it is not only an interesting artistic topic, but also valid in evaluating the evolution of musical performances in the 20th century and beyond. Bartók’s Fourth Quartet, composed in 1928, was in fact dedicated to the Pro Arte Quartet. I daresay that only diehard collectors of vintage performances will be familiar with Pro Arte’s style (they recorded an extensive series of Haydn quartets for HMV in the 1930s, a project ended by the onset of war, and also performed frequently both on and off records with pianist Artur Schnabel), but they were somewhere between the Rosé and the Budapest Quartets. There is a more consistent vibrato, fine and rapid but still discernible, in their playing than in the case of the Rosé, but also a slightly more relaxed rhythmic feel, a bit more give-and-take, than we hear in the playing of the Budapest and the many quartets that followed them. (I should point out that I heard the Hungarian Quartet in person playing Beethoven in 1970, but this was a later edition of this famous group and their style, too, had evolved into a more consistent forward momentum by then, not like their style of the 1950s.)

Checking on the artists’ own website (foghornclassics.com), I was startled to read in a review by Lisa Hirsch of the San Francisco Classical Voice that the Alexander’s live performance of one of the Bartók quartets was “introverted,” without “neglecting the work’s varying moods.” Introverted is not a word I’d apply to these explosive performances. They are indeed fantastic, although I would caution that Bartók’s continual intensity, as well as the extraordinarily dense harmonies and counterpoint, make listening to all six quartets in one sitting a tough go. I would suggest hearing two quartets at a time, separated by either periods of silence or less challenging music. Listening to even three of these works in one session is rather like listening to a full 70-minute CD of Art Tatum. The concentrated complexity of the music that unfolds can tire even a seasoned listener like myself out.

Then we turn to the Kodály quartets, less familiar works surely (this was the first time I had ever heard them), but once again we can make certain generalizations regarding the Alexander’s performances of them as based on the details and style one hears in their Bartók. Even the earlier Quartet No. 1 is given a taut, clean reading, bringing it close in style to Bartók’s own work. Of course, Kodály was his own man: although he assisted Bartók in recording and cataloguing Magyar folk melodies, and used some of their features in his own work, he was more consistent in writing longer, less sharply angular melodies. In short, Kodály’s music sings more, a factor that surely attracted more conductors of his time to perform his music during the 1920s and 1930s than was often Bartók’s fate. In this respect, Kodály’s quartets are a bit closer in general conception (but not exact details) to Janá?ek, whose quartets actually “sing” more than his operas. Listen particularly to the slow movements here: Kodály’s music, and the Alexander’s playing of it, are exceptionally lovely and moving in addition to being musically clean. Once again, as in their Bartók, the Alexander has found a way of bringing out the music’s tender side when tenderness is called for—which is more frequently in these Kodály works.

The list price of this set is $29.96, which breaks down to $9.93 per CD, a very reasonable price in this modern era, but the Alexander’s website indicates that Allegro Music is selling the set for $23.97 (which you can order directly from them), which breaks down to $7.99 per disc, bringing it into line with a budget label such as Naxos. I still like the Emerson’s recordings of the Bartók, but as a total package this one is irresistible. If you’ve put off buying a set of the Bartók quartets until now, and/or don’t have any recordings of the Kodály, you can’t go wrong with this collection. It is, quite simply, terrific.

FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

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Bartok & Kodaly: The Complete String Quartets
Foghorn Classics Jan 2013
CD
$37.99

Rubbra: Symphonies 6 & 8, Soliloquy / Saram, Del Mar, Handley

Lyrita

$20.99 Oct 01, 2006

Richard Hickox's performances of these two symphonies for Chandos are very good; indeed, his take on the first movement of the Sixth Symphony, so redolent of Sibelius' Third, is a touch more lively than that on offer here. But there's no denying the general superiority of the orchestral playing under Norman Del Mar, or Lyrita's richer sonics (Handley and the LSO only appear in the Soliloquy, very well played by Rohan de Saram). Yes, there are moments in the quicker sections of both symphonies where the textures get a bit clogged, but that's really the fault of the composer. Rubbra fought the orchestra. While he clearly was a symphonist of substance, getting his message across seemed to cause him no end of trouble. In these middle symphonies, however, the problems have largely been solved, and along with Nos. 5 and 7 they constitute the essential core of his output. Symphony No. 8, subtitled "Hommage to Teilhard de Chardin", gives free rein to the spiritual impulse that underlies so much of Rubbra's art, and although the Hickox cycle is complete, if you just want to sample this elusive (but very serious and ultimately worthwhile) composer, then this is the place to start. [11/16/2006]--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

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Rubbra: Symphonies 6 & 8, Soliloquy / Saram, Del Mar, Handley
Lyrita Oct 2006
CD
$20.99

Rzewski: The People United Will Never Be Defeated & Four Hands / Oppens, Lowenthal

Cedille

$19.99 Sep 11, 2015

New-music icon Ursula Oppens, who commissioned, premiered, and made the first recording of maverick American composer Frederic Rzewski’s The People United Will Never Be Defeated!, a remarkable, monumental set of solo piano variations, has rerecorded that landmark 1975 work to mark its 40th anniversary. This riveting, audience-pleasing tour-de-force is a nearly hour-long set of 36 variations on a popular Chilean protest song from the era of Augusto Pinochet’s repressive rightwing military dictatorship. A bonus is the world-premiere recording of a new Rzewski work, Four Hands, a duet commissioned by and written for Oppens and pianist Jerome Lowenthal, her duet partner on the recording. Fiercely challenging to perform, it leaves the listener “… absorbed and exhilarated…” (New York Times) Oppens’s Cedille Records discography includes two Grammy nominees, Oppens plays Carter and Winging It: Piano Music of John Corigliano, as well as a recording of duo-piano music by Messiaen and Debussy, again with Jerome Lowenthal.

REVIEW:

Frederic Rzewski wrote his monumental variation set based on Sergio Ortega’s Chilean resistance anthem song “El pueblo unido jamas sera vencido” for pianist Ursula Oppens, who premiered it in 1976 and made its first recording a few years later. It’s a fine performance in and of itself, yet Oppens’ stupendous new 2014 recording for Cedille surpasses the earlier version in every respect.

The opening theme, for starters, is more impassioned at its loud peaks, while the first six variations gain energy and character through Oppens’ heightened sense of voice leading. The dissonant grace note effect of Variation 7’s two-against-three rhythmic patterns is clearer than what many pianists make of it, while Variation 9’s counterpoint benefits from Oppens’ drier, more cogently contoured rethinking.

Variation 10’s splattered, Boulez-like gestures and zigzagging glissandos may not transpire so “recklessly” as the composer indicates, yet the inner logic of his meticulous dynamic markings comes out in Oppens’ faithful rendition. Variation 15’s improvisatory, folk-song-like quality spills over into more elaborate territory in Variation 16. Most pianists (Rzewski included) sustain a similar mood and tone between these two variations. Not Oppens, whose feathery pianissimos and una corda pedal deployment at No. 16’s outset create a magical tonal shift that accurately reflects what’s marked in the score.

Variation 19’s jagged motives, so often pounded out on the same dynamic and emotional level, convey a playful, conversational repartée. Young speed demons who insanely blur their way through Variation 21’s relentless finger twisters have no clue of the wonderful harmonic content that Oppens’ “sanely” fast fingers bring out. However, one can argue that Oppens’ faster and lighter treatment of Variations 26 and 28 plays down the music’s grim, march-like gravitas in contrast to Rzewski’s slower, sharper-edged interpretation. Just before the theme returns, Rzewski gives pianists the option to improvise a cadenza; Oppens’ first recording didn’t include one. Here, the pianist’s short, lyrical, and absolutely lovely improvisation incorporates ideas from Variation 25.

Overall, Oppens’ virtuosity, musicality, and insightful inspiration add up to the most gratifying People United on disc, alongside Rzewski’s own 1986 HatArt label recording (out-of-print on CD, but available as a download). The recorded premiere of Rzewski’s more recent and delightfully inventive Four Hands features Oppens and Jerome Lowenthal relishing the music’s tricky rhythmic hockets, airy contrapuntal traps, fleeting allusions to Romantic fare, and jazzy final fugue with masterful glee. No lover of 20th- and 21st-century piano music should miss this important release.

-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

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Rzewski: The People United Will Never Be Defeated & Four Hands / Oppens, Lowenthal
Cedille Sep 2015
CD
$19.99

Haydn: Symphonies 88, 101 & 104 / McGegan, Philharmonia Baroque

Philharmonia Baroque Productions

$9.99 ~~$19.99~~ Save 50% Jul 15, 2015

There are no finer period-instrument Haydn symphony performances available than these. Using a nearly 50-piece orchestra (thank God!), McGegan captures the music's full grandeur as well as its intimacy. These players sound like a real orchestra, a group with a corporate identity, an attractive ensemble sonority, superb wind soloists, and, miracle of miracles, period strings that don't sound like a den of dying cats. McGegan's phrasing of the "clock" theme in the eponymous symphony's second movement is a model of stylishness and wit--listen and I dare you not to smile.

His pacing throughout is ideal; allegros are swift but not so much as to blur characterful detail. The minuets are perfect; trumpets and drums cut through the texture without turning crude; tuttis really fill the acoustic space, and the dynamic range is aptly wide. No performance of these works follows Haydn's dynamic markings literally, but McGegan's adjustments flow with the music and invariably come across as natural--check out the finale of the "London" Symphony for some particularly telling examples.

The live sonics are generally very good, particularly given the fact that the recordings were made over a three-year period (2007-9). In Symphony No. 88 close miking makes the sound a touch rough in places, and I could do without the applause at the end of each work, but the audience otherwise is extremely well-behaved and extraneous performance noises are happily quite minimal. We need Haydn recordings like this: warm, humorous, affecting, yet fully cognizant of period scholarship and style. They are far too rare.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

3523540.az_HAYDN_Symphonies_104.html

HAYDN Symphonies: No. 104, “London”; No. 88; No. 101, “Clock” • Nicholas McGegan, cond; Philharmonia Baroque O • PHILHARMONIA BAROQUE PBP-02 (75:16) Live: Berkeley, CA 2/10–11/2007, 11/15–16/2008; 9/12–13/2009

Nicholas McGegan and his San Francisco period-instrument ensemble are renowned for their many Handel recordings, but they play music of all eras. This is the first Haydn I’ve heard from them. This 2007 performance of the “London” Symphony is marvelous: The opening Adagio-Allegro brims over with high spirits, highlighted by blazing brass and pounding timpani; the Menuet has grace as well as bounce (McGegan does not play da capo repeats), and the Trio has a delicious lilt, with the merest hint of a luftpause in measure three. The finale is somewhat rough and ready, but its Spiritoso direction is fully realized. Comparisons with other performances do reveal a few shortcomings. As used to be the case in period ensembles, violins are rather dull; those in Richard Hickox’s Collegium Musicum 90 are clean and bright. Hickox’s forces are also better balanced and recorded (by Chandos); McGegan’s woodwinds are often drowned out by screaming trumpets. However, the Hickox has nowhere near the drive and élan of this performance. Nor can McGegan’s strings match the crisp attacks and phenomenal execution of either Colin Davis’s Concertgebouw or Leonard Bernstein’s New York Philharmonic.

The opening Allegro of No. 88 goes beautifully; the movement has no trumpets or timpani. Violins are brighter in 2008, as is the recorded sound. The Largo, however, is a disaster. Bassoons are weak; even when the pair shares the solo line, they are nearly inaudible. Taken even faster (5:30) than the impatient George Szell (5:53), this performance totally misses the movement’s calm beauty. Largos are always difficult; holding the line at a very slow tempo takes enormous concentration and ensemble discipline. Hermann Scherchen almost manages, at a lumbering 10:04; Bernstein’s 7:04 is ideal, in a uniquely lovely rendering. McGegan’s Menuet is back on track; his slow Allegretto works well. The Allegro con spirito finale, again reasonably paced, is also a success—until the coda. In this live performance, McGegan (adrenaline kicking in?) ups the tempo at the last minute, and the final three chords are smudged. Bernstein opts for a ludicrously fast tempo; his virtuoso ensemble pulls it off.

The “Clock” gets a fine performance at mostly consensus tempos; the 2009 sound (they were all at the same site, the First Congregational Church in Berkeley) is more reverberant than before but very well balanced. The Andante is too fast; is McGegan, like Szell, allergic to slow music? The bassoons revive here, but oboe and flute are a bit sour together. Menuet and Finale are magnificent; the wrong-note trumpet joke sounds cleanly, the clarinet-brightened score resounds, and this time the final three chords are crisp.

Good period performances of late Haydn symphonies have been hard to come by. This disc ranks among the best.

FANFARE: James H. North
"...Nicholas McGegan has been honing the San Francisco-based period-instrument Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra for some 25 years. Nor are performances of Haydn’s music in period style anything new. But seldom have his elemental dynamic contrasts sounded so properly in proportion or so mercurial, with the 50 or so players able to play out lustily in fortes and pull back quickly to quieter modes, whether playful, subtle or mysterious...The recordings, made at the First Congregational Church in Berkeley, Calif., from 2007 to 2009, were beautifully produced and engineered by David v. R. Bowles...The release of cumulative excitement at the end of each [symphony] is of a kind that tends to happen only in live circumstances."

- James R. Oestreich, The New York Times [June 24, 2011]

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Sale

Haydn: Symphonies 88, 101 & 104 / McGegan, Philharmonia Baroque
Philharmonia Baroque Productions Jul 2015
CD
~~$19.99~~ $9.99

Tchaikovsky: The Queen Of Spades (Ballet Version) / Lacombe, Orchestre Des Grands Ballets Canadiens De Montreal

Analekta

$20.99 Aug 01, 2008

This is not a disc of highlights from the Tchaikovsky opera, but a balletic condensation of the Pushkin story on which the opera is based. The musical adaptation was made by Gabriel Thibaudeau for Les Grandes Ballets Canadiens de Montréal in 2001. In his accompanying notes, M. Thibaudeau states that “to make the material fit for the ballet framework, we had to cut out many sections (the opera lasts over three hours, the ballet 80 minutes) while at the same time retaining musical coherence. And, just like Tchaikovsky, I had to compose new music to maintain the dramatic tension.” Except for the ambiguous last sentence, this is a fairly accurate statement but, in the interest of the opera-oriented reader, I should elaborate further.

The balletic action unfolds in seven sections. Part 1 (18:37), the longest, sets the mood with the Countess’s aria, “Je crains de lui parler de nuit,” a melody Tchaikovsky borrowed from Grétry for period flavor. Motives associated with Gherman’s troubled character then lead to events occurring in the Private Gaming Club, with the music of Tomsky and his comrades entertaining themselves with the mysterious legend of the “Three Cards,” as the scene concludes with the return of the Grétry melody. Without having seen the ballet, the impression is clearly conveyed that the Old Countess is the drama’s principal character.

Part 2 is misleadingly called “A Park in Leningrad” (for reasons known to its creators, the ballet represents the Soviet era of 1938). This is a lyric episode embracing Pauline’s aria and her duet with Lisa, reasonably true to Tchaikovsky’s music, with a discreet accordion part added to the orchestration. The lengthy part 3 (“Soirée au ballet”) combines the opera’s Mozartian pastoral music and the love themes from the Lisa/Gherman scene. The combination may sound incongruous on paper, but it is no doubt effective choreographically, culminating with an exciting “Pas de deux.” Part 4 (“At the Countess’s Home”) is a skillfully condensed free musical elaboration of the turbulent scene involving, again, the Grétry aria, Gherman breaking the solitude of the frightened Countess, her sudden death, and Lisa’s shocked reaction.

Part 5, called “The Funeral,” opens with Gherman in the barracks, with trumpet sounds in the distance. The ghost of the Countess makes her appearance and reveals the secret of the “Three Cards.” Part 6 (“At the Bridge”) nicely condenses Lisa’s desperate third-act aria with the subsequent intense duet with Gherman and Lisa’s suicide. The concluding part 7 takes us back to the Private Gaming Club, with its busy Prokofiev-style gambling atmosphere. We hear expressions of Gherman’s despair, interwoven reflections of the love music, suggestions of the tragic end, as the “Grétry motive” provides a pianissimo underpainting to Gherman’s dying moments.

Lovers of this opera should know that Prince Yeletsky does not appear in this ballet—nor is he present in the Pushkin novel. Accordingly, there is no reference here of the Prince’s gorgeous aria, which, however justified, is a pity. Still, the ballet is put together with great skill and is undeniably pleasing to the eye and ear. The musical presentation is fine, but the recorded sound, with its lack of depth and immediacy, is somewhat colorless.

FANFARE: George Jellinek

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Tchaikovsky: The Queen Of Spades (Ballet Version) / Lacombe, Orchestre Des Grands Ballets Canadiens De Montreal
Analekta Aug 2008
CD
$20.99

Beethoven: Symphonies No 5 And 8 / Herreweghe, Et Al

PENTATONE

SACD

$21.99 Nov 20, 2007

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

3150440.az_BEETHOVEN_Symphonies_5_8.html

BEETHOVEN Symphonies: No. 5; No. 8 • Philippe Herreweghe, cond; Royal Flemish P • PENTATONE 5186 316 (Multichannel hybrid SACD: 54:16)

This disc represents Volume 2 of a set of the complete Beethoven symphonies currently in progress (the first volume, on the Talent label, included Symphonies 4 and 7 and was reviewed by Colin Anderson in 29:2). In a clumsily translated note Herreweghe refers to “nature” trumpets and “Baroque kettle drums with modern tuning”; these would appear to be the only concessions to period practice—by all accounts, the Royal Flemish orchestra employs modern instruments. This series would appear, then, to be comparable to the latest set conducted by Roger Norrington, with the orchestra of the Stuttgart Radio, on Hänssler.

Unlike Norrington, Herreweghe is unhampered by a tendency toward extreme tempos or self-conscious gestures. Though the tempos of the Fifth Symphony are analogous in swiftness to those of Benjamin Zander on his splendid Telarc recording, there is no sense of the kind of schizoid recklessness that marred Norrington’s Fifth, in which a furious first-movement exposition followed a more sensibly paced opening motto. What we hear instead is a superbly performed and exciting rendering of Beethoven’s war-horse. Orchestral execution is everything one could wish for, with crisp phrasing and spirited ensemble. The conducting illuminates the genius of the conception without in any way calling attention to itself.

In the slow movement, Herreweghe expertly conveys the sense of forward momentum without scrimping on the lyrical richness of Beethoven’s melodic invention. There is no sense of bombast in the triumphant finale, just a very satisfying feeling of rightness—for Beethoven’s creation and for this recreation of it. Herreweghe includes the first movement exposition repeat but follows Beethoven’s revision and eliminates the one in the Scherzo. The sound is resonant yet precise, antiphonal violins aiding in the natural balance. The listener’s perspective is intimate but not airless, allowing for atmosphere and impact. One interesting anomaly: the oboe extends the cadenza in the first movement recapitulation, replacing the one Beethoven wrote, but I found this to be an interesting and idiomatic gesture.

Herreweghe injects a muscular element, propelled by the timpani, into the Eighth Symphony, invigorating what has sometimes in the past been simply a lighthearted romp; there is lightness here, too, but the overall feeling is of vitality. Norrington, by contrast, tends to lurch through the first movement, so that whatever humor there is seems heavy-handed. The sound production he received possesses less resonant fullness than that on the PentaTone disc; strings, for one example, often sound thin and scrappy on the Hänssler CD.

The elegant little Allegretto, under Herreweghe’s hands, verges on the slightly pompous, while the third movement minuet becomes, for all intents and purposes, a scherzo, full of badly placed accents and miscues—all of which, in the words of annotator Tom Janssesns, “indicated that the Classical symphony now truly belonged to the past.” We are then propelled into the finale and its sprightly touches that clearly point to the future, and especially to Mendelssohn. Herreweghe and his Belgian colleagues dispatch the piece with panache.

This is a delightful and highly entertaining disc containing two fine performances of music that never sounds tired or routine. I look forward to the next installment with keen anticipation.

FANFARE: Christopher Abbot

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Beethoven: Symphonies No 5 And 8 / Herreweghe, Et Al
PENTATONE Nov 2007
SACD
$21.99

Mozart: Flute Quartets / Galway, Tokyo String Quartet

RCA

$17.99 Jun 15, 2007

According to Roger Lustig's well-researched programme notes, Mozart's self-declared dislike for the flute says more about the circumstances surrounding the composition of his works for the instrument than it does about any real hatred for the instrument itself. Furthermore, the performances of the Flute Quartets by James Galway and the Tokyo Quartet, here under review, speak equally eloquently for Mozart's evident care in their composition—this despite Hans Keller's dismissal of them.

The first two quartets, K285 and K285a were written in 1776/7 for the Dutch nobleman Dejean. The playing here is full of Mozartian grace and sensuous melodiousness. At the beginning of the possibly inauthentic C major Quartet, K285b, Galway achieves a delightful liquid quality. The later Quartet, K298 is more substantial and draws playing of haunting intensity from Galway and the Tokyo. The slow tempo of this Quartet's second movement is slower than in the Bennett/Grumiaux version on Philips whose performance has a much more jaunty feel to it. Galway's disc is rounded off with his own arrangement of the Oboe Quartet, K370, whose sumptuous slow movement and elegant finale make this an attractive added bonus. One minor reservation: it is useful to have individual variations separately tracked (K285b.2 and K298.1) but, in the earlier Quartet, there is an annoying click on my disc as the tracks change.

The principal difference between the Galway/ Tokyo and the Bennett/Grumiaux versions reflects the recordings and the circumstances surrounding them. Galway's choice of slower tempos might well have been conditioned, at least in part, by the spacious church acoustic in which it was recorded. The Bennett/Grumiaux was recorded in 1969, but the digital transfer is excellent. These are both fine discs, so choice will be determined by personal taste.'

-- Gramophone [6/1993]

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Mozart: Flute Quartets / Galway, Tokyo String Quartet
RCA Jun 2007
CD
$17.99

Elgar: The Kingdom / Sir Mark Elder, Halle Choir And Orchestra

Halle

$32.99 Oct 01, 2010

In 1968, to celebrate his forthcoming 80th birthday the following year, Sir Adrian Boult was given by EMI the choice of a major work to record. This distinguished Elgar interpreter might have been expected to choose The Dream of Gerontius but his admirers had to wait a few more years for that. Instead he chose The Kingdom and it was through his fine, dedicated recording (EMI 7 64902-2) that I first came to know and love Elgar’s last oratorio.

Boult was a great admirer of The Kingdom and in a note accompanying the original release of his recording he included the following statement:
“I think there is a great deal in The Kingdom that is more than a match for Gerontius, and I feel that it is a much more balanced work and throughout maintains a stream of glorious music whereas Gerontius has its up and downs. Perhaps I was prejudiced by hearing a great friend of Elgar’s [Frank Schuster] (who was very kind to me in my young days) jump down the throat of a young man who made this criticism [that Gerontius was a finer achievement than Kingdom]: ‘My dear boy, beside The Kingdom, Gerontius is the work of a raw amateur’.”

I wouldn’t go as far as Schuster but I know what Boult meant about Kingdom being a morebalanced work - perhaps because Elgar fashioned his own libretto. Also, I believe that by the time he composed Kingdom, six years on from Gerontius, Elgar had become an even more accomplished orchestrator and a more assured choral writer.

Boult’s version, though now starting to show its age sonically, remains a benchmark. Since it appeared there have been two more recordings. One was a sumptuously engineered Chandos set from Richard Hickox (CHAN 8788/9). The other, which I have not heard, was made for RCA Red Seal by Leonard Slatkin but I suspect is no longer available. Sadly, that fine Elgar conductor, Vernon Handley, never had the opportunity to record the work.

Every since I reviewed his superb recording of Gerontius I have been hoping that Sir Mark Elder might make a recording of Kingdom and now, here it is. Unlike his Gerontius, which was recorded under studio conditions, this is taken from a single live concert performance. ‘Live’ recordings often include a few edits from rehearsal. I don’t know if that happened here but if it did the edits are completely undetectable and, in fact, I’m pretty sure that what we have here is a single, unedited performance; that’s what it sounds like. Those who worry about applause on CDs can be reassured; unlike Elder’s recent recording of Götterdämmerung applause is absent here.

One thing I should say at the start is that if you buy this recording for no other reason - and there are many reasons why you should buy it - do so in order to hear the orchestral playing. That may be an odd thing to say about a choral recording and in saying it I do not mean in any way to disparage the vocal contributions. However, when Elgar wrote The Kingdom he was at the height of his very considerable powers as an orchestrator and his colourful and resourceful orchestral scoring is a major element of this score. I think the composer would have rejoiced to hear his music so magnificently played as it is here by the Hallé. Their playing is truly world class and a vivid testament to the achievement to date of their Music Director, Sir Mark Elder. The playing radiates assurance and a familiarity with Elgar’s idiom. The strings consistently play with richness and flexibility while the woodwind has great finesse. Best of all, the brass section possesses splendid power and authority but, schooled by Elder, this is never overdone. One small example will suffice. Towards the end of Part III, beginning five bars after cue 120 in the Novello score, the brass nobly play the ‘New Faith’ motif (CD 1, track 9, 4:25). In the Hickox recording this is delivered fortissimo and it’s rather grandiose as a result. Elder, like Boult, has noticed that the marking is only forte and the consequent restraint in both recordings is more effective.

The LPO plays excellently for Boult on his recording while the LSO is on refulgent form for Hickox. However, I feel that the Hallé surpass both their rivals. They may not be recorded as vividly as the LSO - I’ll comment about the respective recordings later - but they are no less impressive. Also, I feel that Hickox has a tendency to underline points in the score. This rather impedes the natural flow of the orchestral playing in a way that is absent from either Boult’s or Elder’s performances though both of these conductors - and their respective players - consistently display admirable attention to Elgar’s copious markings.

The Hallé Choir is by no means put in the shade by their orchestral colleagues. From the very start they sing with great confidence and impressive tone. It’s evident that they’ve been scrupulously prepared by their guest Director, Tom Seligman. I particularly appreciated the dynamic range of their singing. They are capable of producing very exciting loud singing where Elgar requires it but their quiet singing is just as noteworthy. The precision and attack that they bring to the music is excellent throughout, as is the clarity of their diction and altogether I think the choir’s contribution is top-class.

The four soloists take respectively the roles of the Blessed Virgin Mary (soprano), Mary Magdalen (mezzo), St John (tenor) and St Peter (baritone). Of these, it is the role of St Peter that is the most prominent though to the soprano falls the very best music in the whole work, the aria, ‘The sun goeth down’.

The tenor role is not easy to present. It has its dramatic moments but it is primarily lyrical. In fact, I think Elgar portrayed St. John as The Comforter among the Apostles, and certainly as a more reflective character than St Peter. The challenge to the tenor soloist is to sing the role with sufficient impact but without straying into vehemence, which was the main reason why I thought Adrian Thompson was miscast in the role at a Three Choirs Festival concert this summer. Arthur Davies, for Hickox, sings with ringing assurance but, I think, misses some of the humanity for which the role calls. Alexander Young (Boult) is the exemplar in this part and I don’t think John Hudson matches Young. For the most part he sings reliably, though there were a couple of occasions on which he seemed to approach important high notes from below. However, to my ears he doesn’t have the same lyrical grace and ease that Young brought to the music.

The mezzo role of Mary Magdalen is sung by Susan Bickley, who so impressed me in Mahler’s Second Symphony at the Three Choirs Festival this summer. She makes a fine job of this role too, singing with warm tone and great clarity throughout. I’d say she’s as good as the excellent Yvonne Minton (Boult) and I prefer her to Felicity Palmer (Hickox). She blends well with Clare Rutter in the fresh, lightly scored duet that forms Part II of the work. Later, she has a couple of very important narrative passages. One such is at the start of Part III (“And suddenly, there came from heaven”). Here she’s dramatic and exciting, rising to a thrilling top G sharp. Further on in the work, she’s just as involving in the narration at the start of ‘The Arrest’ (Disc 2, track 3).

That narration ushers in the great soprano aria, ‘The sun goeth down’. This is a huge test for the soprano soloist, who has to begin and end the aria in a mood of prayerful contemplation but must rise to great dramatic heights in the central section. Margaret Price (Boult) is peerless here, setting standards that I’ve never heard matched on disc or live. In the outer sections of the aria her singing is rapt, supported with great sensitivity by Rodney Friend (I think), playing the luminous solo violin part. In the middle of the aria the dramatic fervour that Price brings to the music elevates it to the highest level. I’m afraid Margaret Marshall (Hickox) doesn’t match this accomplishment at all. There are some instances of wayward pitching on sustained notes at the start of the aria and, beside Miss Price, she sounds a bit squally in the central section.
Clare Rutter may not quite equal Margaret Price but she makes a fine job of this aria. I’d have liked her to sing the opening phrases just a little more softly - especially after Lyn Fletcher has prepared the way so beautifully with a lovely account of the violin solo - but overall her delivery of the more inward passages of the aria shows pleasing sensitivity. When the dramatic intensity of the music picks up she responds with very committed singing. At cue 159 (“The Gospel of the Kingdom”) (disc 2, track 4, 4:55) she’s really fervent yet within a few moments she’s fined things down to produce an exquisite pianissimo on the word “Jesus” (5:57). This is a distinguished piece of singing, which means that the aria is a high spot, as it should be. This is the most important contribution that Elgar gives to his soprano but elsewhere Miss Rutter’s singing is very good, not least in the afore-mentioned duet with Susan Bickley.

The key solo role in The Kingdom is the baritone part, here entrusted to Iain Paterson. He sings well and with authority. Once again, the Boult recording sets the benchmark for John Shirley-Quirk is quite magnificent in the role, singing with a marvellous combination of controlled intensity and tonal richness. For Hickox, David Wilson-Johnson does very well without surpassing Shirley-Quirk. I enjoyed Iain Paterson’s singing very much. He brings intelligence to the role and, as I’ve already said, authority. His crucial, long solo in Part III, built around the ‘New Faith’ theme, is a cornerstone of the work and Paterson doesn’t disappoint. He delivers this and his other solos with conviction and at every turn his diction is clear.

I had hoped that Sir Mark Elder would prove an authoritative interpreter of The Kingdom and indeed he does. Several things mark out his interpretation. One is an impressive control of pace and structure. That, I suppose, is no surprise given his pedigree as a fine operatic conductor. Another is his attention to detail, respecting Elgar’s copious and vital markings in the score. That, again, should be no surprise to anyone who has heard his previous excellent Elgar recordings. He also demonstrates a great understanding of the score, ensuring that the sentiments it expresses are given their due weight but never letting the music sound sanctimonious. It seemed to me that his choice of tempi was, almost without exception, excellent. Elder displays a mastery of the score that is comparable with Boult’s and he doesn’t indulge in any of the over-emphatic point-making that slightly mar Hickox’s otherwise impressive reading. To cap it all, this is a live recording so we can benefit from the sweep and electricity of the occasion.

I should mention the quality of sound in the respective recordings. The Boult recording was made in Kingsway Hall by Christopher Bishop and Christopher Parker. It’s a very good recording but it is now over forty years old and it hasn’t got the same degree of presence and inner clarity as its two more modern rivals. The Chandos recording for Hickox was made in St Jude’s Church, London by Brian and Ralph Couzens. The sound has great presence, indeed punch, and in many ways it’s a splendid achievement. The sound can be thrilling and, as usual with Chandos, a great deal of detail is revealed. However, playing all three recordings on the same equipment and without adjusting the controls made me think that perhaps the fullness of the Chandos sound was just a bit too much of a good thing at times.

The engineering team behind this new Hallé recording is exactly the same one that produced Elder’s warmly received recording of Götterdämmerung. I haven’t yet had the time to do more than sample that Wagner recording though what I’ve heard has impressed me. I’m certainly very impressed indeed by this new Elgar recording. It seems to me to present a nicely truthful concert hall balance. The soloists are given a properly prominent position in the aural picture without one feeling that they’re artificially close. The choir, though behind the orchestra is reported with presence while the orchestra is in excellent balance with both the choir and the soloists, allowing one to appreciate their superb playing without feeling that the orchestra is too dominant.

It only remains to say that the notes are by the doyen of Elgar commentators, Michael Kennedy, who provides a succinct but completely satisfying note about the work and a good synopsis of the action.

I hope that this fine new recording of The Kingdom will enhance the reputation of this marvellous work. It contains a great deal of quintessential Elgar, not least ‘The sun goeth down’. And much of Part III, from the start of St Peter’s extended aria (‘I have prayed for thee’) to the end of that movement, is top-drawer Elgar. The ending of Part III never fails to move me, especially when it’s done as superbly and convincingly as is the case here. As I said earlier, I might not go as far as Frank Schuster in evaluating the respective merits of Gerontius and Kingdom but I feel that Kingdom has been unfairly in the shadow of Elgar’s earlier choral masterpiece so it’s a cause for rejoicing that this splendid new Hallé account is now available.

Elder has already given us a recording of the Prelude to The Kingdom as a filler to his recording, with Thomas Zehetmair of the Violin Concerto. That was a different performance of the Prelude, set down in 2005. Reviewing the disc William Hedley said that Elder’s account of the Prelude made him want to hear the complete oratorio again. Well, now he can and I hope he’ll enjoy it as much as I have. With this excellent recording Sir Mark Elder further enhances his reputation as the finest Elgar conductor currently before the public. I hope he will go on before too long to give us a much-needed new recording of the companion oratorio, The Apostles. Can I also enter a plea that the Hallé’s evolving Elgar Edition will encompass the shamefully neglected Spirit of England, of which I’m sure Sir Mark would be a fine interpreter?

Sir Adrian Boult’s recording of The Kingdom must retain its place as a reference performance, not least because it has the finest quartet of soloists that I’ve ever heard in the work. However, this new Elder interpretation is a worthy rival and should be heard by all Elgar enthusiasts. It is certainly the pre-eminent digital account.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

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Elgar: The Kingdom / Sir Mark Elder, Halle Choir And Orchestra
Halle Oct 2010
CD
$32.99

Bortniansky: I Cried Out To The Lord / Ensemble Cherubim

Naxos

$19.99 Jun 25, 2013

BORTNIANSKY Cherubic Hymn No. 7. Choral Concertos: Nos. 1, 6, 9, 15, 18, 21, 27, 32. How Glorious is our Lord in Zion • Marika Kuzma, cond; Ens Cherubim • NAXOS 8.573109 (63:04 Text and Translation)

We all know that Russian music began with Glinka, right? Well no, actually it didn’t, especially if one considers the rich tradition of a cappella liturgical music in the Russian Orthodox Church. From the late 17th century onward, these compositions are often credited to individual composers, such as Nikolai Diletsky (1630–1690), Vasily Titov (1650–1715), Maksim Berezovsky (1745–1777), Stepan Degtiarev (1766–1813), and Artemy Vedel (1767–1806). Dmitry Bortniansky (1751–1825) was one of the consummate practitioners of this art, but in addition to church music he wrote operas and instrumental works. All of the composers mentioned were strongly influenced by European musical styles, and none more so than Bortniansky. Of Ukrainian birth, he was recruited into the Imperial Court Chapel Choir in St. Petersburg at the age of seven. Because of his outstanding abilities, he was eventually sent to Italy to study, spent 10 years there, and had several of his operas produced in Italian theaters. Upon his return to Russia in 1779 he achieved great success as a composer and choral director and in 1796 was appointed director of the Imperial Court Chapel.

There have been a good many recordings of Bortniansky’s music, but this one is claimed to be “the first to restore authentic early 19th-century Church Slavonic pronunciation and reintroduce fine details found in archival sources.” Not having been present in Russia during the early 19th century, I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the pronunciation, and I would be curious to know on what basis it was established. The notes by conductor and Bortniansky scholar Marika Kuzma shed little light on this issue, except to remark that the orthography in the printed Cyrillic texts “intentionally includes archaic letters to signal an earlier, St. Petersburg pronunciation of Church Slavonic that differs from current Russian or Ukrainian practice.” The “archaic” letters mentioned were eliminated from Russian in the post-revolutionary orthographic reform, which as far as I know did not affect pronunciation. The eliminated letters were simply considered redundant. The claim to historical authenticity is somewhat undermined by the presence in the choir of women’s voices, which traditionally were not used in Orthodox Church music. I must acknowledge, however, that many other recordings of such material also employ a mixed chorus. In any case, Kuzma’s credentials as a choral director, musicologist, and Bortniansky expert are strong, and one can have some confidence in the quality of her research on issues relating to this composer. Above all, it is the quality of the music and the performances that is important, and here Kuzma’s recording is on very firm ground.

A notable feature of these performances is their transparency, contrasting with the massive, blended choral sound favored by other recordings of similar material. This transparency is very beneficial to Bortniansky’s contrapuntal textures and antiphonal effects, and achieving it is clearly one of Kuzma’s major objectives. In the notes, she announces her intention to avoid the “rich, legato choral style of traditional Russian choirs,” which creates “a wash of sound that blurs the fine detail indicated in Bortniansky’s scores.” In Cherubic Hymn No. 7, which opens the program and is probably the composer’s best-known work, the excellent intonation of the Ensemble Cherubim is also immediately apparent. Kuzma’s delivery is a bit quicker but also more relaxed and serene than the performance by the Lege Artis Chamber Choir of St. Petersburg (Sony). Another hymn, Kol’ slaven nash Gospod v Sione (How Glorious is Our Lord in Zion), brings the disc to a tranquil conclusion. Its text, drawn from a poem by Mikhail Kheraskov (1733–1807), is in Russian rather than Church Slavonic, unlike the rest of the works on the disc.

Between the two hymns, the bulk of the disc is devoted to eight of Bortniansky’s 35 sacred concertos for single chorus (he also wrote some for double chorus). The concertos are in three or four short movements and set a variety of religious texts, drawn mostly from the Psalms. Slow movements tend to alternate with faster ones, the latter being highly contrapuntal in character. The emotions expressed in these works run the gamut from deepest despair and mourning to joyous celebration. In addition to the qualities of transparency, textural detail, and precise intonation previously mentioned, Kuzma’s performances are characterized by intensity, elasticity, and variety in tempo and dynamics. If you think an hour of unaccompanied choral music can become monotonous, think again. That is not the case here.

Although a substantial number of discs that include some music by Bortniansky are available, recordings devoted exclusively to his choral music are few, and the selection of concertos assembled by Kuzma cannot currently be replicated on CD. The main competition for this release comes from the efforts of Valery Polyansky, who recorded all 35 concertos with the Russian State Symphonic Capella for Chandos on five discs. The first volume of his series, which contains the first nine concertos and three of those included by Kuzma, is currently available only as an MP3 download. Each of the remaining Chandos discs includes no more than one or two of the works recorded by Kuzma. Polyansky also recorded some of the concertos earlier for Melodiya, first with the Moscow Conservatory Chamber Choir and later with the USSR Ministry of Culture Chamber Choir. These earlier recordings appear to be unavailable at present. The contrast between Polyansky’s approach and that of Kuzma is consistent with her own description of the differences between the “traditional Russian choral sound” and what she seeks to achieve. It would be difficult to question Polyansky’s commitment and authority in this repertoire, or the sonorous majesty of his Chandos recordings, but where I’ve been able to make direct comparisons (in Nos. 1, 6, 9, 18, and 21), I find myself often preferring Kuzma, because of clearer textures, livelier tempos (especially in the slow movements), and more pointed rhythm. It is also noteworthy that where Polyansky relies constantly on a massed chorus, Kuzma frequently assigns lines to individual singers or a small contingent, which makes for a greater variety of texture. The differences in interpretation are perhaps most obvious in the opening movement of Concerto No. 21 (“He that dwelleth in the help of the Most High”), where Polyansky’s marmoreal pace nearly doubles Kuzma’s timing (4:31 vs. 2:22), and Kuzma’s chamber-like texture contrasts strikingly with the dark mass of Polyansky’s chorus. Here one must acknowledge the greater sense of other-worldly mystery achieved by Polyansky, as well as the more powerful presence of bass voices in his rendition. Both these varieties of interpretation have their place.

The sound of this recording is very clean, clear, and well focused, free of the wooliness that sometimes afflicts choral recordings. Polyansky’s Chandos discs, by contrast, are recorded in a much more reverberant environment. The Church Slavonic and Russian texts are offered in Cyrillic, along with English translations, but no transliteration is provided, which is great for those with knowledge of the Cyrillic alphabet, but those without it are at a disadvantage.

The fine performances on this disc offer a good introduction to and sampling of Bortniansky’s choral music. I strongly recommend this excellent disc to anyone interested specifically in this composer or in Russian music before Glinka.

FANFARE: Daniel Morrison

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Bortniansky: I Cried Out To The Lord / Ensemble Cherubim
Naxos Jun 2013
CD
$19.99

Wolf-Ferrari: The Two Piano Trios

Brilliant Classics

$13.99 Sep 07, 2018

Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari (1876-1948) focused on instrumental music at the beginning and towards the end of a career that was otherwise largely devoted to opera. The two trios for violin, cello and piano are early works, written at the time he was studying in Munich, or shortly afterwards. The first Trio in D major dates back to 1896, was premiered at the Tonkünstlerverein in Stuttgart in September of that same year and published as Op.5 in 1902 by Leuckart in Leipzig. The four movements of Op.5 abound in richly embroidered, Brahmsian melodies and impassioned statements and developments, free of the naivety that is often a feature of early works. That said, they do embody a certain innocence, a degree of gentleness, even a lightness of spirit that sets them apart from their composer's study of German models with teachers such as the organist Joseph Rheinberger. Parts of the Op.7 Trio may in fact have been written before Op.5, but the expression of the three-movement work as a whole is more individual, dominated as it is by a huge opening movement (almost 20 minutes in length), and often colored by a bitter chromaticism that Wolf-Ferrari would later relinquish in favor of a more light-hearted and lyrical idiom. Here is a technically gifted young composer stretching his creative muscles - and for all the breadth of expression, his writing for the notoriously tricky combination of instruments is notably sympathetic, allowing the two string instruments to flourish without being overwhelmed by the piano. This new studio album is the second recording of Trio Archè for Brilliant Classics after their well-received debut of trios by another Italian composer, now even less familiar than Wolf-Ferrari, Marco Enrico Bossi. Both albums make a ready appeal to all those listeners who travel the musical byways of late Romanticism.

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Wolf-Ferrari: The Two Piano Trios
Brilliant Classics Sep 2018
CD
$13.99

Haydn: The Complete Piano Sonatas, Vol. 8 / Bavouzet

Chandos

$21.99 Jul 05, 2019

"Bavouzet’s Haydn is unmatched in its zest and its wit. But it is also substantial, informed and deeply rewarding."

--The New York Times on Bavouzet's Haydn Sonatas cycle, 2022

After leaving the boys’ choir of St. Stephens Cathedral in Vienna, one of the ways the young Haydn found to support himself was as a harpsichord teacher. The three early sonatas featured on this recording were almost certainly intended for his students: short, light pieces with few technical demands. The two larger sonatas, both in the key of E flat major, were written some twenty years later and are far more extensive. Both require significantly greater prowess from the performer, and represent Haydn’s ingenuity and skill to the full. The two additional works included here, whilst single-movement compositions, are substantial pieces. The Adagio ma non troppo would become the slow movement of Piano Trio No. 36 whilst the Variations on ‘Gott erhalte’ is based on the second movement of the ‘Emperor’ Quartet, which is itself a set of variations on an anthem composed by Haydn at the request of an Austrian politician for the 29th birthday of the Emperor, and intended as a patriotic hymn comparable to ‘God Save the King’ in England- and a response against the Marseillaise.

REVIEW:

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet is back with the latest volume of his magnificent survey of the Haydn keyboard sonatas...For this latest offering he takes works from three critical periods in Haydn’s life. To make ends meet at 17 he taught harpsichord and some of his earliest sonatas were written for his pupils. These include Nos 5, 6 and 7 – all quite charming and uplifting – which are performed with a sense of affection and delight here by Bavouzet.

The Sonata No 51 in E Flat, which Bavouzet uses to break up the early works, falls into the second critical stage of Haydn’s career. The third momentous turn in his life came when he was befriended by Maria Anna von Genzinger, a mother of six and accomplished pianist and singer...[he] dedicated his Sonata No 59 (often called the Genzinger) to Maria Anna, and it has become one of his most performed piano pieces. Bavouzet does it full justice on this disc, giving a magisterial reading of this gem from the Age of the Enlightenment.

This top-notch disc is filled out with the delicious Adagio ma non troppo, an original version of the slow movement of the Piano Trio No 36, and the variations on the Austrian anthem Gott Erhalte.

--Limelight (Steve Moffatt)

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Haydn: The Complete Piano Sonatas, Vol. 8 / Bavouzet
Chandos Jul 2019
CD
$21.99

Balada: Works for Clarinet / Ivanov

Naxos

$9.99 ~~$19.99~~ Save 50% Apr 24, 2020

Barcelona native Leonardo Balada’s creative style has been labelled ‘Dalí’s surrealism in music’ – an aspect of his work explored in this programme through the technique of ‘sound transformation’ in which abstract musical materials become familiar melody. Fusing traditional and contemporary elements, Caprichos Nos. 6 and 7 engage intimately with Spanish culture and history, while the virtuoso Double Concerto, heard here in an arrangement for flute, clarinet and piano, blends well-known Mexican folk tunes with the composer’s distinctive avant-garde style. The Naxos label has been releasing recordings of the music of Leonardo Balada for many years now, and his profile has achieved a level at which each new disc is greeted with much interest and healthy sales figures in the contemporary music genre. This particular recording also promises wider circulation in being related to Ivan Ivanov’s book Leonardo Balada and Surrealism in Music to be published by Routledge. This is aimed towards teaching surrealism in Universities as well as being of interest to wider audiences. The new release will be used as an example on the music analyzed in the book, but will also be attractive worldwide because of the international status of surrealism in art.

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Balada: Works for Clarinet / Ivanov
Naxos Apr 2020
CD
~~$19.99~~ $9.99

Liszt: Complete Piano Music Vol 21 / K. Scherbakov

Naxos

$19.99 Nov 16, 2004

This superb disc is number 21 in Naxos’s projected series of Liszt’s complete piano music. Given that Leslie Howard’s Hyperion series (to my knowledge, the only one that is yet "complete" although he keeps finding more to record) ran to 57 volumes, some with multiple discs, this still has some way to go. I mention this because, in one of life’s coincidences, the discs in the series I have acquired previously are numbers 7 and 14 (respectively containing Rossini transcriptions and Bunte Reihe transcriptions of music by Ferdinand David), both of which were also excellent.

But, hang on a minute, this music certainly doesn’t sound like Liszt and, of course, it isn’t – it’s Beethoven. Although I have been aware of Liszt’s transcriptions of his symphonies for some time, this is my first experience of them. I approached the disc with several questions in my mind: Why did Liszt transcribe them? Why, when I can easily choose between recordings by Klemperer, Karajan, Böhm and Zinman, should I want to listen to a piano version? Even if I am interested in piano transcriptions of Beethoven’s symphonies, should I really be starting with the Ninth?

I would presume that Liszt was motivated to produce his transcriptions as a vehicle for his own performance and to increase the possibility of their performance more generally; although they would only ever be accessible to great virtuosos. My initial reason for wanting to listen to this was curiosity but I will re-listen in the future because the experience was much more compelling than I had expected. It made me think afresh about a work I thought I knew well. Each time I have listened to it I have marvelled at Beethoven’s music, Liszt’s conception for the piano, and Scherbakov’s musicianship and virtuosity.

My feeling is that the difficulties of playing the 9th Symphony on the piano must increase progressively throughout the work. The first movement is relatively straightforward compared to the scherzo, for which there is an incessant rhythmic challenge; despite this Scherbakov takes all the other repeats except the last one. In the adagio the difficulty is obviously not one of hitting the notes but conveying the feeling normally imparted in the string writing. Sensibly Scherbakov adopts a relatively fast tempo (although the duration of 12 minutes is similar to Zinman, Böhm takes about half as long again) and yet he convincingly conveys the spiritual essence of the music. But all this is nothing compared to the finale! As this began, I was really sceptical. Hadn’t Liszt thought of bringing at least a tenor along with him? Can a piano really sing like four soloists and a chorus? Of course it can’t but Scherbakov’s piano sings for all it is worth and the words went round in my head. The experience was quite different but still a rich broth rather than a consommé. Scherbakov handles the various contrasting sections of the finale with the same skill as a great conductor and he brings off a magnificent conclusion. The fantastic glow that you should feel at the end of this work was just as intense as ever.

Second time round, listening to this disc with the orchestral score was an interesting experience. The most striking thing was how many of the notes are in the piano version, a very high proportion and certainly all the ones that matter. Curiously though, there seems to be a small cut in the scherzo of eight bars just before the last repeated section (at 9’52" on track 2). This section (on page 133 of the Dover edition of the score) is played on all the orchestral versions mentioned above. Essentially it is a repeat of the opening eight bars of this movement. I don’t know whether Liszt, Scherbakov or Naxos is responsible for the omission. It would be surprising if it were Liszt because this short passage is so straightforward that even I could transcribe it for the piano (you couldn’t say that for more than 99% of the rest of this work!) although perhaps these bars were not in the edition of the score he used. Whatever the explanation, I raise it as a point of interest and do not feel that it detracts significantly from his truly magnificent rendition of this movement.

The recorded sound is not absolutely top-drawer and the piano initially seemed a little harsh in tone (this is not entirely inappropriate at the beginning of this work) but my ears adapted. The booklet is rather disappointing – no need here for a biography of Liszt, rather some more detail about the transcriptions would have been appreciated. But, for me, given music-making like this, these are minor considerations.

There is competition, both from within Leslie Howard’s complete Liszt series and also a complete Beethoven symphony transcription set by Cyprien Katsaris (see link to review below). Obviously, I haven’t heard these discs (yet) but, regardless of their merits, Scherbakov is worth hearing as well.

I am glad I started my piano transcription experience with the Ninth because it has made me want to explore the rest of the series. Apparently Scherbakov has already recorded three discs including the first six symphonies (see links to reviews of two of the discs below) and these are already available. I shall be looking out for these and the rest of this series, whatever their place in Naxos’s grand scheme. I shall also await volume 28 with anticipation - perhaps it might contain some original music by Liszt?

This is a magnificent disc and listening to it is a truly uplifting experience.

-- Patrick C. Waller, MusicWeb International

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Liszt: Complete Piano Music Vol 21 / K. Scherbakov
Naxos Nov 2004
CD
$19.99

Ullmann: Der Kaiser von Atlantis / Agudin, Orchestre Musique des Lumieres

IBS Classical

$17.99 Sep 14, 2018

Viktor Ullmann arrived in Theresienstadt on 8 September 1942. He was 44 years old, a Jew and a former officer of the Austrian army. Being an accomplished composer, well known for his organizational skills, he was immediately solicited by the Freizeitgestaltung to organize concerts and conferences, to write musical reviews (he authored 26 such texts), and to compose. In fact, during the two years before his transport to Auschwitz, he wrote several instrumental and vocal works, including song cycles for baritone and piano, one sonata for violin and piano, his third string quartet, three piano sonatas (numbers 5, 6 and 7) as well as an opera in one act on a libretto by the young poet Peter Kien Der Kaiser von Atlantis oder die Tod-Verweigerung (The Emperor of Atlantis, or the Disobedience of Death). Ever since his arrival in the ghetto, Ullmann seems aware of the precariousness of his future, as is shown in the quite openly ironic remark on the manuscript of his piano sonata nº 7, dated 22 August 1944: “The performance rights are reserved by the composer until his death”, so, not for long.

REVIEW:

In the three or four generations since composer Viktor Ullmann wrote his opera Der Kaiser von Atlantis with librettist Peter Kien, in the Nazi ghetto-prison Terezín (Theresienstadt) in 1943/44, humanity hasn’t progressed very far. To anyone in today’s world who even pays the slightest attention, this work’s themes and characters–for instance, its “Kaiser” is a demented, tyrannical dictator who launches a massive, unprovoked war–will be all too familiar, and real.

Death and Harlequin are sitting together reminiscing, Harlequin lamenting how life is no fun anymore; Death decrying the loss of the glorious nature of dying as in the old days. Neither finds satisfaction or meaning in a world that has lost its ability to laugh or to properly die. But then Emperor Overall announces that “we have decided in our infallible, all-penetrating wisdom, to declare…the great, beneficent War of all against all.” Every person, whether child, woman, or man (“whether crooked or straight”) will take up arms, everyone against everyone. And, Overall declares, it will all be led by “our old associate, Death.” However, upon hearing this, Death takes offense at the presumption, breaks his sword, and refuses to cooperate. Death goes “on strike”. (The subtitle of the opera is “oder Die Tod-Verweigerung”, or the Disobedience of Death.)

What follows–including the confrontation between two seeming enemies who choose love rather than fighting–concerns the (ultimately chaotic) consequences of a world without death, and, importantly, of removing the instrument of death from a ruler’s arsenal. If death is no longer at his service, then the Emperor no longer has his power. Ultimately Death returns to his work, restores his necessary function, taking Overall with him.

Ullmann’s music is a fascinating assortment of styles, owing to influences of Schoenberg (with whom he studied) and to several of the more popular forms of the period (Weill’s “cabaret” music is often mentioned), whose juxtapositions–and the fact that it’s all very “singable”–sustain musical interest while ensuring no loss of dramatic momentum. Here are elements of the colorful, somewhat experimental, developing world of music theatre in “between-the-wars” Central Europe, mixing the tonal and atonal, the humorous and the grotesque, irony and the plainly serious, while, in Ullmann’s hands, always mindful of a necessity for structural formality.

Instrumentation–undoubtedly determined by what was available in the camp–is a colorful mix, a 13-piece chamber orchestra that includes strings and winds, but also harmonium, saxophone, banjo, and harpsichord. Throughout there are quotations, both in the libretto and music, from other works that would have carried particular meaning for the audience. Among them: the very first notes of the opera are the Angel of Death motif from Czech composer Josef Suk’s “Asrael” Symphony; there is an effectively distorted rendition of Haydn’s “Kaiser Lied” (which had become the German national anthem); and at the end of the opera comes the famous chorale tune “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott”.

Because of the circumstances of the work’s creation and its ultimate fate–it was never performed in Terezín; its premiere wasn’t until 1975–there is no definitive version. Ullmann and most of the other artists involved in the production were deported to Auschwitz in October, 1944, and before he left, the composer gave his manuscripts to Terezín’s librarian for what he hoped would be safekeeping until after the war. Ullmann was killed on arrival at Auschwitz. The scores survived but were only discovered years later in London. [Note: for a detailed account of the musical lives and activities in the Terezín concentration camp, including those of Viktor Ullmann and many other musicians, please see Joza Karas’ seminal work on the subject, Music In Terezín 1941-1945 (Pendragon Press).]

The existing score was much annotated, marked up with changes made during rehearsals. In some instances Ullmann himself provided alternate choices or leaves uncertain notations that are equally likely options. However, careful study has been undertaken and serious efforts made to discern Ullmann’s intent as closely and clearly as possible and to produce a score based on these findings and educated assumptions. This is the version we get here, and it’s excellent, from the singing to the instrumental work. And don’t forget the first rate notes and the inclusion of the complete libretto in four languages.

The music itself is more than worthy of serious attention; this is a sophisticated, consistently engaging dramatic work that impresses, in the words of annotator Bruno Giner, “not because it was composed in Theresienstadt, not as an emblematic parable of totalitarianism…but indeed because it is an accomplished and artistically successful work.” There are no stand-alone arias in the traditional sense, nor grand, show-stopping moments; it doesn’t require singers of extraordinary technical capabilities (not that the ones here aren’t capable of such!). It’s just a hair-raising story, ingeniously characterized, plotted, and scored; one that makes its points very effectively, one you will remember. The singers and instrumental players assembled for this recording are all first-rate–the singers’ voices exactly right for these roles; the chamber orchestra in command of the style and always supportive and assertive where required.

And, speaking of singers–and the “all too familiar”: In the notes you will read that this recording, which was made in March, 2015, is dedicated “to the memory of our comrade Wassyl Slipak, whose voice never left us.” A baritone at the Paris Opera, Slipak, who here sings the role of Death with impressive vocalism and commanding presence, left his position there in 2015 to join the fight against Russian separatists in his native Ukraine. He was killed by a sniper in June, 2016. And so it goes.

-- ClassicsToday.com (David Vernier)

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Ullmann: Der Kaiser von Atlantis / Agudin, Orchestre Musique des Lumieres
IBS Classical Sep 2018
CD
$17.99

Rode: Violin Concertos 7, 10 & 13 / Friedemann Eichhorn

Naxos

$19.99 Feb 24, 2009

RODE Violin Concertos: No. 7; No. 10; No. 13 • Friedemann Eichhorn (vn); Nicolás Pasquet, cond; Southwest German RO Kaiserlautern • NAXOS 8.570469 (58:00)

Pierre Rode (1774–1830) and Rodolphe Kreutzer (1766–1831) are well known to all serious students of the violin for their technique building exercises in the form of etudes and caprices. Of the same generation were Viotti (1755–1824) with his 29 violin concertos and Pierre Baillot (1771–1842) with his L’art du violon . But they were all outdone, if not undone, by their near contemporary from Genoa, Niccolò Paganini (1782–1840). These were the standard bearers of two competing schools of violin-playing and pedagogy, one Italian, the other Franco-Belgian. Kreutzer, despite his German-sounding name, and Rode were French, as was Baillot, and their approach to the instrument would lead to Vieuxtemps and through him to Wieniawski and thence to Ysaÿe. Paganini, on the other hand, was a tough act to follow. Other than Ernesto Camillo Sivori, Paganini’s sole pupil, the only violinist-composer of note to continue in the Italian’s footsteps was the Jewish Moravian Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst (1814–1865).

Not that casual acquaintance with the works of any of these violin wizards would reveal in any obvious way the more subtle differences in the application of their practices, for envelope-pushing, finger- and bow-bending, exhibitionistic virtuosity was the order of the day and the name of the game. The never-ending pursuit of one-upmanship superseded all else; the impossible was unplayable only until it was surpassed by the next even greater impossibility. An “I’ll show you,” attitude prevailed. Yet, for all its warping of musical values, the extension of the possible in violin technique opened the door to composers who were able to incorporate those technical advances into major, serious works. I doubt that the violin concertos of Mendelssohn, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Sibelius, and others could have been written had these earlier 19th-century virtuosos not provided the necessary tools.

Though Rode studied with Viotti, he later worked with Kreutzer and Baillot at the Paris Conservatory, contributing to the school’s official Violin Method . The French “way” mitigated some of the less graceful aspects of the Italian approach by introducing a greater refinement of tone production through smoother bowing and phrasing techniques. Some insight into this can be gained from a rather unlikely source: Beethoven. Rode’s 1812–13 concert tour brought him to Vienna, and it was for the violinist’s appearances there that Beethoven composed his last violin sonata, the No. 10 in G-Major. During its composition, the composer was in contact with Rode regarding his preferred style of playing. We know this from a letter Beethoven wrote to Archduke Rudolph, complaining, “We like to have more surging passages in our finales, but R did not consent to that.” Unusual for Beethoven to yield to anyone in matters musical, but we have in this sonata a clear example of the more elegant, aristocratic style that Rode and the French school preferred.

In addition to his coauthorship of the aforementioned Violin Method and his 24 Caprices so well beloved (?) by students, Rode composed 13 violin concertos, none of which has found favor among present day players. In this, Rode has ceded the playing field to his teacher, Viotti, whose concertos—at least some of them—are performed and recorded with relative frequency. This recent Naxos CD is in fact the only recording currently listed of any of Rode’s concertos, and I sincerely hope that its release changes that, for the works on this disc are, in my opinion, more appealing and of greater musical substance than are any of Viotti’s concertos I’ve heard, and that includes his famous No. 22 in A Minor recorded many times over.

No one who listens to these Rode concertos will be disappointed by a lack of virtuoso fireworks. There’s enough double-stopping, rapid runs, and bowing tricks to satisfy even the most insatiable appetites for hire-wire circus acts. But there is also a depth and breadth to Rode’s muse, and a sophisticated air to his melodic invention that elicits a strong emotional response and strikes a genuine responsive chord. Simply put, there is some exquisitely beautiful music here. And Friedemann Eichhorn, who is new to me, plays with a sweetness of tone and expressiveness of phrasing that grace Rode’s exceptional lyricism with the delicacy of a caress, all the while skirting the technical minefields as if they didn’t exist. Nowhere does Eichhorn’s tone turn coarse or his bowing become labored, even in the most fiendishly difficult passages. This is violin-playing of a caliber to match this extraordinary music. In a single stroke, Eichhorn and Naxos have done for Rode (and for us) what should have been done long ago. It’s my fervent hope that they will see fit to give us Rode’s remaining 10 concertos.

No fancier of the violin should be without this disc. It may even show up on my 2009 Want List.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

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Rode: Violin Concertos 7, 10 & 13 / Friedemann Eichhorn
Naxos Feb 2009
CD
$19.99

OUT THERE

TELARC

Vinyl

$39.49 Apr 04, 2025

Double vinyl LP pressing. World-renowned pianist, Hiromi, releases her 13th studio album OUT THERE, a vivid display of electrifying fusion jazz. Joined by her band Sonicwonder, the album features Adam O'Farrill (trumpet, w/pedals), Hadrien Feraud (bass) and Gene Coye (drums), following the release of Sonicwonderland (2023). Hiromi has performed at the world's finest jazz festivals and has been celebrated by the New York Times, NPR, the Washington Post and beyond.

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OUT THERE
TELARC Apr 2025
Vinyl
$39.49

HERE LET MY LIFE
Analekta May 2007
CD
$20.99

#52 - Frank Reinecke

BR Klassik

$19.99 Sep 11, 2026

The latest musica viva CD presents three contemporary works for double-bass, performed by the renowned double-bassist Frank Reinecke (born 1960), who was a member of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra from 1984 to 2024 and is in great demand at international festivals as a soloist and chamber musician. Working closely with renowned composers, Reinecke has premiered numerous works, including Flucht ('Flight/Escape') by Nikolaus Brass (2009) and iv 18 by Mark Andre (2021), both of which can be heard here in recent recordings. Born in Paris in 1964, the composer Mark Andre creates existential spaces of experience in his music that are characterised by subtle processes of change. At the heart of his thinking lies the question of disappearance, which relates to all musical parameters. Above all in his chamber music, which is as delicate as it is focused, the devout Protestant proves himself to be a sensitive explorer of sound. His solo work for double-bass iv 18 ('For they were afraid'), commissioned between 2018 and 2021 by musica viva of Bayerischer Rundfunk and the Berliner Festspiele / Musikfest Berlin, was premiered by Frank Reinecke at the Musikfest Berlin in 2021. This recording of the work was made between November 7 and 9, 2023 in the Herkulessaal of the Munich Residenz. Nikolaus Brass regards the three movements he composed for solo double-bass in 2009 under the title Flucht ('Flight/Escape') as studies or etudes for the instrument. The first movement highlights various 'gestures of the line', which in the third movement are narrowed down to a single gesture, that of the glissando. In the central movement, the core of the instrument is brought to the fore. The title Flucht can be interpreted musically in several dimensions. Frank Reinecke gave the work it's world premiere in Hamburg in June 2013. This recording was made on June 20 and 21, 2012 at the Himmelfahrtskirche in Munich-Sendling. Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928-2007) composed the first version of In Freundschaft ('In Friendship') in 1977 as a birthday present for the clarinettist Suzanne Stephens, and also wrote a version of it for the flute at the same time. In 1978, he revised the work and, on that occasion, wrote versions for the oboe, trumpet, violin and viola. Further versions followed for the basset horn and almost all other orchestral instruments. A first version for cello, prepared in 1981, can also be played on the double-bass. This live recording of Frank Reinecke's performance was made during a musica viva concert on November 6, 2020 in the Herkulessaal of the Munich Residenz. ? Impressive performances of three original contemporary compositions for solo double-bass by renowned double-bass player Frank Reinecke: Mark Andre (born 1964): iv 18 ('For they were afraid') (2022/23) Nikolaus Brass (born 1949): Flucht (2009) Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928-2007): In Freundschaft (version for double-bass; 1977/2008) ? Andre and Brass wrote their respective compositions for Frank Reinecke (born 1960), who performed the world premieres, and dedicated them to him. In 1998, Stockhausen also dedicated a double-bass version of his work to Reinecke ? Three exciting contemporary pieces for the 'wonderful instrument' (Nikolaus Brass, 2025), performed by a world premiere performer

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#52 - Frank Reinecke
BR Klassik Sep 2026
CD
$19.99

The World According to George Antheil / Kopatchinskaja, Ahonen

Alpha

$15.99 ~~$20.99~~ Save 25% May 13, 2022

George Antheil called himself a ‘Pianist-Futurist’. A lover of speed, cars and airplanes, the American composer settled in the Paris of the Années Folles, where he frequented Picasso shows and Stravinsky concerts, and composed works such as the Sonate sauvage and Jazz Sonata, which caused a scandal: during a concert in Budapest, he even brandished a pistol to restore silence in the hall . . . He hero-worshipped Beethoven, whose pieces he played in the first part of his recitals before moving onto his own music. In 1933, he returned to the United States, where he met John Cage and Morton Feldman. Patricia Kopatschinskaja and the young Finnish pianist Joonas Ahonen – whom The Times, following what the journalist described as ‘one of those concerts you remember for ever’, presented as the violinist’s ‘doppelgänger’! – pay tribute to the self-proclaimed ‘Bad Boy of Music’.

Critical acclaim from the New York Times:

"George Antheil (1900-59) was a technophilic, self-declared bad boy of music; regardless of whether that’s true, he didn’t please his way into the canon. Here, however, this American composer gets a tribute that places him in a lineage of innovators from Beethoven to the mid-20th century — traced by the daredevil violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja and an enthusiastic partner in the pianist Joonas Ahonen.

"...Antheil would perform his works alongside, say, something from a century earlier, and Kopatchinskaja and Ahonen do the same by programming Beethoven’s Violin Sonata No. 7 in C minor. It is a fiery and freely interpreted account reminiscent of Gidon Kremer and Martha Argerich’s fearless, unpredictable, at times unwieldy recordings from the 1990s.

"Like the Beethoven, the Antheil is in four movements, but it blends traditional form with a thoroughly modern sound that, in this reading, bustles at a breakneck pace with percussive and metallic timbres. Looking beyond Antheil’s generation, the album also includes pieces by Morton Feldman and a nocturne by John Cage, works that subtly recall the sonatas but also stand alone as studies in sound-making and extremity — of strength and softness, of overtone-rich expanses. Executed with discipline that borders on mechanical, they couldn’t be better suited to a world according to George." --The New York Times (Joshua Barone)

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The World According to George Antheil / Kopatchinskaja, Ahonen
Alpha May 2022
CD
~~$20.99~~ $15.99

The First Nowell - Christmas Carols Through the Ages / The Edison Singers

Naxos

$9.99 ~~$19.99~~ Save 50% Nov 11, 2022

The Christmas carol has its origins in the Middle Ages but it has since embraced a wide variety of musical backgrounds. In this album, religious sentiment is set in many different contexts – from the mystery plays to an African American spiritual, from its origins in Gregorian Chant and 16th-century secular dance to traditional examples rooted in poetry. Some of the most famous and beautiful examples are heard alongside energizing contemporary carols to present a tapestry of the genre across the centuries.

CONTENTS:

trad.: Tomorrow Shall be my Dancing Day
Holst: In the Bleak Mid-winter (Cranham)
Niles: I wonder as I wander
Sweelinck: Hodie Christus natus est
trad.: Sans Day Carol
Ord: Adam lay ybounden
trad.: Go tell it on the mountain
Whitacre: Lux aurumque
Vaughan Williams: Five English Folksongs
Beamish: In the stillness
trad.: Ding dong! merrily on high
trad.: A Virgin most pure
Willan: Hodie Christus natus est
trad.: Coventry Carol
Biebl: Ave Maria
trad.: My Dancing Day (Arr. B. Chilcott for Choir)
Gruber: Silent Night
trad.: The First Nowell

REVIEW:

The Edison Singers is a Canadian mixed adult choir (7-5-6-6 are listed for this album) founded in Ontario by Noel Edison in 2018. Their singing is well balanced, with commendable precision and clear delivery of the texts. This was recorded in the Basilica of Our Lady Immaculate in Guelph, Ontario. The sound has the spacious ambiance you would expect from such a building. Here is a satisfying Christmas album with a different touch.

-- American Record Guide

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The First Nowell - Christmas Carols Through the Ages / The Edison Singers
Naxos Nov 2022
CD
~~$19.99~~ $9.99

Bernstein, Gershwin & Copland / Judd, NOI Philharmonic

Naxos

$19.99 Apr 10, 2020

An American in Paris is one of Gershwin’s most vivacious works, an orchestral ballet saturated in homesickness and the blues. This recording, however, uses the new 2019 critical edition and offers Gershwin’s original orchestration, unheard for 75 years- leaner, more angular and transparent, it also employs the correct use of the iconic taxi horns, for a new sonic experience. The breezy vitality of Copland’s An Outdoor Overture is balanced by Bernstein’s Songfest- written to celebrate the Bicentennial Year in America, setting the verses of 13 of the country’s poets.

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REVIEW:

Songfest is in many ways a portrait of its composer in that the music is multi-faceted and ranges from the simple and lyrical to the flamboyant. Not every movement works as well for me on a level of subjective taste—I’m not a big fan of the tenor solo, ‘Zizi’s Lament’, for instance—but overall, the work is entertaining and full of life. The present performance is excellent with six fine singers expertly partnered by James Judd and his outstanding orchestra.

This new recording of An American in Paris has a particular allure in that it uses the new (2019) critical edition. The edition has been prepared by Mark Clague, the Editor-in-Chief of the George and Ira Gershwin Critical Edition. In an absorbing note in the booklet, he explains that there are two significant differences between this score and the version to which we’re accustomed. One concerns the use of saxophones. Gershwin specified no less than eight different saxes in his original orchestration, including a trio of soprano saxes. Unfortunately, well-meaning editorial work in the 1940s reduced the eight saxes to three—and even these were designated as optional. Here, the full octet is restored and, boy, do they make a difference at times! (Try the episode beginning at 7:23, where they’re smooching in the background. Even better, listen to them in the exuberant passage from 11:39.) The other changes concern the famous taxi horns. Gershwin was, apparently, very specific as to the pitches of the horns but an editorial misunderstanding after the composer’s death meant that the horns were notated at incorrect pitches. Now we can hear what Gershwin intended.

Copland’s An Outdoor Overture acts as a filler; it receives an alert and entertaining performance.

I’ve encountered the work of the National Orchestral Institute Philharmonic on several previous Naxos CDs of American music. I’ve never been disappointed by their performances and this latest programme evidences the same professionalism, polish and commitment that I’ve heard before. James Judd guides them expertly through the music.

I enjoyed this disc very much. It’s especially recommendable for Songfest, not least because to the best of my knowledge it’s the only single-disc version currently available and it’s a work that is very well worth getting to know, especially in this fine performance.

– MusicWeb International

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Bernstein, Gershwin & Copland / Judd, NOI Philharmonic
Naxos Apr 2020
CD
$19.99

Jean-Marie Leclair: Violin Concertos, Vol. 1 - Op. 7, Nos. 1

SOMM Recordings

$20.99 Oct 17, 2025

SOMM Recordings is delighted to build upon it's critically acclaimed discography with violinist, Adrian Butterfield, and the London Handel Players in a new collaboration featuring the Op. 7 set of six Violin Concertos by the French violinist-composer, Jean-Marie Leclair. The London Handel Players, praised by the New York Times for their "soulful depth" and "consummate skill and musicianship," have previously released five Handel discs with SOMM, along with recordings that celebrate Geminiani, J.S. Bach, and Telemann. The group's co-founder and director, period-instrument violinist Adrian Butterfield, has been described as "a marvel" by Gramophone for his recordings of Leclair's first three books of violin sonatas. The solo concerto emerged in Italy in the early 18th century through composers like Torelli, Albinoni and, particularly, Vivaldi. J.S. Bach acquired a copy of Vivaldi's popular set of twelve concertos, L'Estro Armonico, to transcribe and study, and he put his own stamp on concerto writing with works that are larger in scale, making use of more detailed contrapuntal development and a greater degree of harmonic variety. When Jean-Marie Leclair met an untimely death on 23 October, 1764 in a still-unsolved murder in Paris, he left behind a stellar reputation as the founder of the French violin school, along with a collection of works for violin that includes four volumes of solo violin sonatas and two volumes of violin concertos; his Op. 7, heard here, and Op. 10, to follow in the near future. These virtuosic and elegant violin concertos are something of an amalgam of the Italian concerto style and of Bach's formalistic innovations. Leclair was born in Lyon in 1697, and his dream was to become a solo violinist in his own country. But, at this time in France, violin playing was the province of country fiddlers and orchestral players, while the viol was the chosen instrument for the French upper classes. When the Italian violinist-composer, Arcangelo Corelli, published his iconic set of Op. 5 sonatas in 1700, no French violinist was equipped with the technique to perform them. Having spent a year studying dance and composition in the Italian city of Turin, Leclair moved to Paris, where he soon published his first set of twelve violin sonatas. For a couple of years, he commuted between Paris and Turin in order to study with a former student of Corelli's, and, over the course of two decades, published three more sets of sonatas, along with the two sets of violin concertos. The concertos are justly celebrated for their blend of French elegance and Italian virtuosity, reflecting not only Leclair's skill as a renowned violinist, but also his background, which drew on a variety of Europe's national styles. In the early 1910s, Holst became interested in astrology, and he conceived the idea of a suite for orchestra based on the solar system's individual planets. Originally, he composed The Planets on the piano, using the instrument in his newly-built, sound-proofed room in the music wing at St Paul's Girls School as well as the piano at his home in Thaxted. This version for four hands, two pianos was scored by two of his colleagues at St Paul's, Vally Lasker and Nora Day, who acted as amanuenses, because Holst suffered intermittently from painful neuritis in his right hand. Following the resounding success of the orchestrated version of The Planets, the original piano duet score was overlooked, though it was eventually published separately in 1949-51. In 1979, Holst's daughter, Imogen, reissued the complete two-piano arrangement in one volume, and Tessa Uys and Ben Schoeman perform this version here. Elgar's renown was such that, at the height of his fame, several established musicians were commissioned by publishers to make piano transcriptions of his orchestral music. This was no mean feat, given that Elgar's scores are scrupulously marked as to how he wanted every phrase-sometimes even every bar or note within that phrase-to be played. It was the composer, arranger, and conductor, Otto Singer II, who made the transcription for piano four-hands of Elgar's 1905 Introduction and Allegro, scored originally for solo string quartet and string orchestra. Singer's insight and skill are evident in techniques like transferring string double-stopping to spread keyboard chords, and his piano four-hands version is admirably true to Elgar's evolving contrapuntal and harmonic ideas. In Victorian England, the marriage of a tradesman's son to the daughter of a Major-General in the British Army, who was eight years his senior, might not have appeared a perfect match. Yet, the marriage of Edward Elgar and Caroline Alice Roberts turned out to be a love-match. In 1888, as a wedding present, Edward presented to Carice, as he called her, Salut d'Amour. This enduring melody has inspired numerous arrangements for widely varying instrumental combinations, including this one for piano duet.

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Jean-Marie Leclair: Violin Concertos, Vol. 1 - Op. 7, Nos. 1
SOMM Recordings Oct 2025
CD
$20.99

Mix & Match

Schoenberg: Concerto For String Quartet After Handel, Book Of The Hanging Gardens / Craft, Lane, 20th Century Classics Ensemble

Naxos

$13.99 ~~$19.99~~ Save 30% Jan 18, 2005

Here is a fine mixed assortment of music by Arnold Schoenberg. All of the performances are high quality, and two of them are now my reference recordings. Even if this were a full-price disc, the expert performances, clean engineering, and wide sonic range (including particularly solid bass) would make it a top choice.

The performance of Das Buch der Hängenden Gärten is notable for lovely, accurate singing by Jennifer Lane and sensitive, fluent support by pianist Christopher Oldfather. Lane produces a more beautiful tone, with more consistency between registers, than the major rival performance by Jan DeGaetani and pianist Gilbert Kalish on Nonesuch. But DeGaetani exploits register differences to create a wider range of effect and knows when some vocal harshness is called for. Lane may excel in presenting the love music's lyricism, but DeGaetani makes the loss and anguish more keenly felt. Although my reference here remains DeGaetani/Kalish, Lane's rendition is still excellent, and I dare say that some listeners will prefer hers because of its sheer vocal beauty.

The Piano Suite Op. 25 occupies a pivotal spot in music history as Schoenberg's first completely 12-tone work. Again the top contender is a classic Nonesuch CD, this time played by Paul Jacobs, who projects more angst. Oldfather presents a clarified, even witty approach that makes this music sound less "difficult" than usual while demonstrating that Schoenberg used neo-classical form and texture to support his radical melodic/harmonic technique. Since the Nonesuch disc's sound is a little fuzzy by today's standards, it's an easy nod for the new disc.

Lied der Waldtaube is a song from Schoenberg's Gurre-Lieder. Schoenberg stripped the original lush full-orchestral accompaniment down to a 15-piece ensemble to create the arrangement recorded here. Jennifer Lane returns as soloist, again displaying her creamy mezzo-soprano in particularly sensitive singing. This is definitely worth hearing--and acquiring as an alternative. In the end though, fans of this music will want the late-Romantic original orchestration for its stronger emotional punch.

Schoenberg, who was not a particular fan of Handel, felt free to mess around with the Baroque master's Concerto Grosso Op. 6 No. 7. Often altering Handel's harmonization, and with downright loopy "wrong" notes scattered around the score, this strange piece is Schoenberg's funniest composition. Robert Craft, a friend of Schoenberg's in his later days and a pioneer in conducting the composer's music in America, leads the Fred Sherry String Quartet (formed for the occasion of this recording) and the Twentieth Century Classics Ensemble in a recording of this piece that's unprecedented in clarity and wit, with full-bodied sound to match. The disc concludes with a rather charming 1949 interview of Schoenberg by American composer Halsey Stevens.
--Joseph Stevenson, ClassicsToday.com

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Sale

Schoenberg: Concerto For String Quartet After Handel, Book Of The Hanging Gardens / Craft, Lane, 20th Century Classics Ensemble
Naxos Jan 2005
CD
~~$19.99~~ $13.99