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SaleDuvernoy & Duvernoy: Clarinet Chamber Music / Magistrelli, Italian Classical Consort
Brilliant Classics · Mar 2024CD$12.99$9.99 -
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British Classics / Davis, Atherton, BBC Symphony, BBC Wales National Orchestra
Opus Arte · May 2018DVD$26.99 -
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Rosner: Orchestral Music, Vol. 2 / Burchett, Palmer, London Philharmonic Orchestra
Toccata · Mar 2018CD$20.99 -
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Johann Joseph Abert: Columbus Op. 31; Konzert Fur Kontrabaß; Variationen Fur Kontrabaß
Bayer · Jan 2012CD$20.99 -
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Marguerite Long, Vol. 2 - Chopin, Debussy, Milhaud & Ravel
Undoubtedly the foremost French female pianist of the 20th century, Marguerite Long (1874–1966) prided herself on her personal friendships with some of the foremost composers of her day – Debussy, Fauré and Ravel. She championed their works, premiering Ravel’s G major piano concerto, and was to write books on the interpretation of each of them.
This addition to our continuing French Piano School series is the second of two APR volumes, together containing her complete recordings of French repertoire, and of honorary Frenchman, Chopin. Of particular significance here are the premiere recordings of the Ravel G major and Milhaud 1st concertos - both works dedicated to her - and also the first ever recording of Chopin's 2nd Concerto from 1929, which has not previously been reissued.
REVIEW:
The second volume of APR’s Marguerite Long retrospective is once again focused on French repertoire, with recordings set down between 1929 and 1952. In common with the previous volume, all the recordings featured here have been superbly restored by Mark Obert-Thorn.
CD 1 is devoted exclusively to Chopin. Centre stage is the premiere recording of the Piano Concerto No.2. Philippe Gaubert conducts the Orchestre de la Société des Concerts du Conservatore in this June 1929 inscription. She made a later recording of the work in 1953 with André Cluytens which I haven’t heard, so can’t offer any comparisons. In this earlier recording, the soloist is forwardly projected, with the orchestra sounding slightly recessed. The first movement begins with a heavily truncated tutti. The slow movement, an exquisite nocturne imbued with pathos and beauty and speaking of unrequited love, isn’t the best I’ve heard. I find Long’s rendition oddly prosaic and devoid of poetry. Gaubert’s staid support isn’t much to write home about either.
Set down on 11 May 1929, the Fantasy in F minor is the earliest recording in the set. Long displays virtuosity in abundance and captures the piece’s mercurial moods, with rubato kept firmly under control. The playful F sharp minor Mazurka is stylish. Of the two waltzes, the A flat seems a bit rushed. Elegance and poise characterize her Barcarolle, whilst the Berceuse, a true lullaby, is well-paced and gently rendered. Adopting a pearl-like tone, she achieves myriad tonal colours with each successive variation. It’s certainly one of the highlights of this collection. The Second Scherzo is action-packed with drama, with contrasting sections of poetic lyricism.
Despite the fact that Long forged a personal friendship with Debussy and championed his music, she recorded very little of it. The two Arabesques are played with geniality and affection. Jardins sous la pluie is nicely paced and sparkling even though she herself considered her performance too fast. La plus que lente is tastefully delivered without the overindulgence on the rubato front one sometimes encounters.
The set offers two recordings of Ravel’s G major Piano Concerto recorded twenty years apart, and how different they are. The 1932 traversal is the world premiere recording with an orchestra directed by Pedro de Freitas Branco. Perhaps this version is the better known of the two. The first two movements are more brisk than in the later version. The central slow movement is rhythmically strict. In 1952, this time with the Orchestre de la Société des Concerts du Conservatoire and Georges Tzipine, she takes a more relaxed approach and allows herself more rhythmic freedom. The sound quality had improved greatly by the time the second recording was made. I have to say that I much prefer the later one for its less hemmed in approach and the more perceived affection lavished upon it.
Darius Milhaud dedicated the first of his five piano concertos to Marguerite Long. She premiered it in Paris in 1934. That performance was conducted by Alberf Wolff. The recording was made a year later on 5 & 6 April 1935 with the composer himself at the helm of an unnamed orchestra. Two vigorous, neo-classically wrought outer movements frame a central Barcarolle, which provides a soothing contrast. This ‘slow’ movement is a delight, where radiant woodwind writing provides a diaphanous backdrop to the luminous piano writing. Long achieves some subtle, glorious colouring. The two solo piano pieces offer some striking contrast. Paysandú is dark and sombre, whilst the more virtuosic Alfama displays a sparkling, carefree demeanour.
This volume, together with volume 1, positions Long in the hierarchy of great pianists. I’m grateful to the skill and care APR have lavished upon these valuable recordings. Roger Nichols insightful liner notes are the icing on the cake.
-- MusicWeb International (Stephen Greenbank)
Oboe Concertos Of The Classical Era / Klein, Freeman
His two oboe concertos were written in Vienna in 1803 and 1805. Both are dramatic works with virtuoso turns and leaps abounding. The first is more Mozartean in nature while the second has distinct overtones of early Beethoven. Both are first-class pieces that deserve to be known.
Johann Nepomuk Hummel is more of a known quantity. He was highly regarded in Vienna as a contemporary of Beethoven, though of somewhat lesser stature. His Introduction, Theme, and Variations is a polished, virtuoso piece of considerable brilliance.
Alex Klein was born in Brazil, trained at Oberlin College, and for the last five years has been principal oboist of the Chicago Symphony. His technique is flawless. He is well supported by Paul Freeman and the Czech National Symphony. Cedille's recorded sound is first-class, as expected from this source."-- John Bauman, Fanfare [11/1999]
Shostakovich and Pupils, Vol. 2 - Weinberg, Sviridov, Bunin
Duvernoy & Duvernoy: Clarinet Chamber Music / Magistrelli, Italian Classical Consort
There is scarce information available on Charles Duvernoy – not to be confused with Jean Baptiste Duvernoy (1802–1880), a French composer and pianist of the later romantic period, author of many studies and didactical works for piano. Charles was born in Montbéliard, France, and began clarinet studies in Strasbourg while playing in a military band. In 1790 he moved to Paris where he improved his playing – first as a member of the National Guard Band along with his brother, hornist Frédéric-Nicolas, and then achieving the posts of principal clarinet with the orchestra of the Monsieur Theatre and then the Feydeau Theatre of Saint-Germain, a position he held until 1824. He was also a professor at the Conservatory of Paris from 1800–02 and from 1808–16.
The Quartet No.1 is an unpretentious but enjoyable composition with well-conceived themes in all three movements and strong connections to the classical Viennese period. The 3 Themes and Variations employ simple themes with an introduction (in a minor key for No.1 and 2) before developing them in five variations (No.1 & 2) and three variations (No.3). The two Airs varies (chosen from the 6 Airs varies) were also conceived in theme and variations form. The style is purely classical and resembles other Airs (or Sonatas) written by French composers such as Lefevre, Devienne or Buteaux. Originally written for C clarinet and bass, this recording uses a B flat clarinet and basset horn for a better timbral match. For authentic colour, the clarinet is an early, original Lefevre six-key boxwood instrument from the early 19th century.
Frédéric-Nicolas’s Trio No.1 is the work of a virtuoso hornist. In 1788 he went to Paris and joined the Orchestre de la Comédie italienne. Two years later he became hornist of the Orchestre de la Guarde National and later was a professor at the Paris Conservatory, where he served until 1815. He also played in the Orchestre de l’Opéra de Paris from 1796–1817. He left a great number of horn pieces including 12 horn concertos, trios, nocturnes, quintets, etc. The Trio recorded here features a well-developed first movement and a second movement consisting of a short theme with four carefree variations ending in a brilliant coda. The horn is substituted with the more velvety, nasal colour of the basset horn, creating a new, interesting timbral combination.
Haydn: String Quartets, Vol. 3 - Op. 76 Nos. 2-4
The Sunrise makes for a quiet, inward-looking and studious start to this CD. And you really appreciate the exposition repeat which allows you to get to grips with what it’s about. The first violin’s curvaceous ascent represents the sunrise. The first theme’s mellow consideration soon gives way to earnest activity, then back to the opening mood. The second theme mirrors the first but with the melody this time in the cello. In the development (tr. 1 4:19) the vigorous material becomes more spiky but what’s more attractive, and very well accomplished here by the Leipzig String Quartet, is the release of tension as the texture thins and the music eases into the recapitulation. I compared The Lindsays recorded in 1999 (ASV CDDCA 1077). Their opening is more affectionately inflected, their activity more animated, but the movement’s progression isn’t revealed with the sheer refinement shown by the Leipzigers.
The slow movement is a deep contemplation around a five note motif of which you are made clearly aware in the Leipzigers’ performance. Their presentation is plain but intent. The more searching, even rapt character of the second phase of the movement is satisfyingly revealed by the whole ensemble. Their understatement shows more warmth and inwardness than the more moulded but also self-conscious Lindsays.
After this the Minuet is rather disarmingly jocular. The Leipzigers get across well the teasing quality of its tempo fluctuations though to a degree which makes the disruptions unduly gawky. The Trio has a rustic flavour to maintain such a mood, with its viola and cello drone over which the violins’ melody slides. But in its second section the viola is released to join the violins and your focus is switched to the sweetness and light of the first violin in upper register. The Lindsays’ more blatantly comic bounce in the Minuet blends better with a Trio that is at first still more feisty and assertive.
The finale, attractively presented by the Leipzigers with an easygoing blitheness, continues the later, sweeter mood of the Trio. Its increasingly faster, at first more feathery, closing section is trimly accomplished by the Leipzigers but you’re very much aware of it as a virtuoso technical display. The Lindsays are more provocative: they send up the first violin’s grace notes from the finale’s opening phrase and then float on the sustained notes. Their closing section begins nonchalantly and continues precisely etched.
The second quartet on this Leipzigers’ CD, the Emperor, is altogether different in manner. It’s direct, exuberantly forthright and uncomplicated. The Leipzigers begin it in chipper fashion. The sforzandos and lower parts are firmly projected and there’s more emphasis on ensemble than first violin dominance, its passages of semiquaver and demisemiquaver elaboration allowed just to wheel neatly above the rest. In the development (tr. 5 3:37) the sequences are presented with silvery tone before the theme is displayed in much more rugged manner as appropriate to the drone in viola and cello. The recapitulation is then an appreciated return to civil normality. It’s a pity the second half of the movement, unlike the first, isn’t repeated, especially because Haydn asks for the close, from 6:05 here, to be faster the second time, so you lose that adrenalin effect. The Lindsays (from 1998, ASV CDDCA 1076) do make the repeat and approach everything with more rigour and swagger.
The ‘Emperor’ (Austrian national anthem) theme of the slow movement (tr. 6) is stated calmly by the Leipzigers and gradually takes on more of the character of a formal dance. Variation 1 (1:04) offers a nicely rounded statement by the second violin and neat first violin filigree work above. Variation 2 (2:03) is treated as a lullaby, with the theme now in the cello and the first violin’s counter-play tender and sympathetic. In Variation 3 (3:00) the tune comes in the viola with denser involvement of the other parts but is still flexibly and companionably presented here. In Variation 4 (4:14) the tune is back in the first violin and more reflective in silky high register, sealing the whole presentation as a grateful homage. I prefer this to the more emotive Lindsays who for me become rather unctuous.
The Leipzigers’ Minuet is courtly, relaxed and attractive, but I feel the more rhythmic second part of both sections could skip more, as the Lindsays show. However, the Trio responds better to the Leipzigers’ understatement. It’s grave until transformed, even if only for a spell, from A minor to A major, like seeing the same person in different circumstances. In the Leipzigers’ finale you feel the rhetoric of the crotchet chords more than the shimmer of the quaver triplets, but these do later become more prominent. In the development (tr. 8 2:46) they cut across the melodic progress with more effect and things become more impetuous. The Leipzigers’ performance is finely proportioned but the Lindsays are more exciting.
The Fifths is a great study in subversion. Its first movement begins rigorously enough but the consolatory brightness of its second theme (tr. 9 0:23) is what you prefer to remember. The development (3:24) sees a transformation and mellowing of the initial material at the same time as its opening four-note motif (the falling fifths in the first violin) becomes more significant as a unifying and steadying force. The Leipzigers are more refined and intellectual than the Lindsays’ more personal and passionate approach (ASV CDDCA 1076 recorded in 1999) which offers a sweeter yet somewhat less substantial second theme. The winsome slow movement spotlights a first violin melody and here the Leipzigers’ Stefan Arzberger manages to be both folksy and gracefully sophisticated where Peter Cropper for the Lindsays is more modest and unassuming. Arzberger is the more classical. The Minuet returns to D minor rigour but of a very odd kind as the first and second violins are stalked by the viola and cello three beats behind. As both are in their lower register the effect is rather that of a trailing double-bass. This is clearer and more disturbing in the Leipzigers’ account though it has less gusto than the Lindsays. The D major Trio places a Vivaldian succession of crotchet chords as a backcloth for a sweet and toying first violin solo. The Leipzigers bring out the toying aspect more whereas the Lindsays are more exciting in dynamic shading. In the D minor finale the subversive brightness is confined at first to the first violin’s leap of a fifth at the end of the first phrase but you know the theme is going to end up, satisfyingly and after a little sleight of hand in the development, in the major. All this is stylishly effected by the Leipzigers, again more classically than the Lindsays’ more cheeky first violin leap. They also sport a feistier development and more delicate and sweet major version of the theme. A good way to end a CD of clean, thoughtful, satisfyingly classical accounts. The playing is refined and precise; the recording has fine immediacy and presence.
-- Michael Greenhalgh, MusicWeb International
Bax: Symphonies 2 & 5 / Fredman, Leppard, Lpo
BAX Symphonies: No. 2; 1 No. 5 2 • Myer Fredman, cond; 1 Raymond Leppard, cond; 2 London PO • LYRITA 233 (78:28)
Lyrita’s versions of Bax’s First, Second, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Symphonies were, in my opinion, the most important recordings in their catalog, especially at the time of their release, because they introduced the remarkable output of a major symphonist to American listeners for the first time in modern sound. Three complete recorded cycles of Bax’s symphonies conducted by Vernon Handley and Bryden Thomson (Chandos) and David Lloyd-Jones (Naxos) have followed. This album containing the Second and Fifth Symphonies completes the CD release of Lyrita’s Bax Symphonies. The long wait has been worth it. First of all, the CD represents an incredible value, with two major symphonies adding up to nearly 80 minutes of music. In the Second Symphony, Bax calls for a huge orchestra including piano, organ, and a large but subtly applied percussion section. For the most part, aside from a few brief lyrical passages, the music sounds angry and threatening. The discrete and sparing use of the organ is dramatically effective. In the second movement, the organ pedal underlines the dark atmosphere before the luminous closing chords. At the climax of the third movement, Bax briefly unleashes the full power of the organ in a terrifying outburst that has to make you speculate as to what it means. The music then fades to a desolate conclusion marked niente (“nothing”).
The Fifth Symphony is dedicated to Sibelius. The opening theme is nearly a direct quote from the second movement of Sibelius’s Fifth Symphony. Bax then essentially evolves the thematic material of the whole symphony out of that single motific kernel. In the second movement, he briefly hints at expanding the Sibelius fragment into a lush Baxian melody, but the mood is transient. The third movement is a brilliantly orchestrated set of variations that culminates in Bax’s only fortissimo epilogue dominated by massed brass playing the motto theme. So, the Fifth Symphony is dedicated to Sibelius, nearly quotes a theme by Sibelius, is perhaps influenced by Sibelius, but ultimately sounds like Bax and no one else.
Myer Fredman and Raymond Leppard match Vernon Handley in his fine Chandos set at every point in these performances, but this Lyrita release has no peer because of its sound. The Second and Fifth Symphonies were respectively recorded in 1970 and 1971 in Walthamstow Hall in London. The engineers (Kenneth Wilkinson and Stanley Goodall) provide a nearly perfect reproduction of Bax’s unique and highly personal sound world. Dynamic range is massive, but there is no harshness or sense of strain. Instrumental balances are outstanding and there is no artificial spotlighting of individual instruments. The overall texture is lean and muscular, but it is rich and seductively sweet when necessary, as at the end of the second movement of the Symphony No. 2. This recording is clearly Want List material, along with the incomparable Bax Sixth Symphony on Lyrita 296 ( Fanfare: 31:5).
FANFARE: Arthur Lintgen
McTee: Symphony No 1, Circuits... / Slatkin, Detroit
My first contact with Cindy McTee’s music was a recording of the wind ensemble transcription of Circuits by the Cincinnati College-Conservatory Wind Symphony. In fact, all previous experience with McTee’s music has been in the wind ensemble medium, including three movements of the Symphony No. 1 under the title Ballet for Band . There is a wind ensemble recording of Double Play , as well, which I had not heard until now. It says a lot about the difficulties of getting new music recorded by orchestras that McTee’s larger ensemble music, almost always written for the orchestra first, has been much more available to collectors in wind band arrangements. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she was, from 1984 to 2011, on the music faculty of the University of North Texas at Denton, the current academic home of band music-recording phenomenon Eugene Migliaro Corporon. He must have found her technically challenging, elegantly crafted, imaginative, often playful, and always vibrant music irresistible. (She claims, incidentally, to have acquired the compositional playfulness from Krzysztof Penderecki during the year she studied with him at the Cracow Academy of Music. That is as surprising a piece of information as I can remember picking up from an artist biography.)
In any case, it seems fitting, given the large amount of play her orchestral music has gotten, that the first CD of these works is being conducted by Leonard Slatkin. This is not because he has been her husband since 2011, but because Slatkin, a noted proponent of quality American music with audience appeal, has been an advocate of McTee’s music for so much longer. In fact, he was instrumental in arranging the commission of her Symphony No. 1 for the National Symphony Orchestra in 2002. That work is the central composition in this Detroit Symphony program, and is in several ways emblematic of the McTee style. It is, to begin with, music motivated by dance and movement, driven by an emphasis on rhythms, often motoric, with unexpected disruptions and syncopations to keep it impetuous. Not surprisingly, it keeps the percussion section very busy. It is music of high contrasts: in those rhythms, and in sonorities, and in its use of tonality. And lastly, each of the four named movements—“On with the Dance,” “Till a Silence Fell,” “Light Fantastic,” and “Where Time Plays the Fiddle”—is inspired by characteristics of one or more well-known works by other composers: the opening motif of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5, a melody from Penderecki’s Polish Requiem , Barber’s Adagio for Strings, Ravel’s La valse , and Stravinsky’s Le sacre du printemps . Those who know the Ballet for Band will note the elegiac second movement not included in the band version: an Adagio derived from an earlier Agnus Dei for organ, with which she eulogizes the victims of 9/11. All this, with some occasional jazz references to boot, McTee transforms into a unified, highly original, exceptionally moving 30-minute work.
Double Play (2009–10), the most recent work on this release, is another Slatkin commission, this for the Detroit Symphony. Indeed, this recording is from the premiere performances. “Unquestioned Answer,” the first movement, is a witty rethinking of Ives’s Unanswered Question , using the same device of an initially serene backdrop interrupted by a contrasting repeated theme. Instead of trumpet, the theme is played by various groups of instruments, and unlike Ives’s unvaried theme, McTee’s—derived from Ives’s—is transformed at each repetition. The last variation, for wood blocks and cowbells, leads into the second movement, “Tempus Fugit,” which truly seems to flee at light speed, after the moments of indecision while the ticking clocks get synchronized. Reminding one commentator of big band jazz of the Hermann/Kenton variety and inspired by a theme by Slatkin, it is hugely entertaining.
So is her most popular work, Circuits , written in 1990: a high-energy romp in which the title describes a stimulus not so much electronic as fractal. It is McTee’s closest brush with minimalism on this CD, but there is nothing hypnotic or reflective here. That comes in Einstein’s Dream (2004), which incorporates electronics and brooding introspection in a remarkable collage of wildly contrasting styles. If this can be taken as a conjecture of what it might have been like to be inside the great physicist’s head, then one finds order in the Baroque ensemble, deep intellectual questing in the Romantic violin—based again on Ives’s trumpet theme in The Unanswered Question —and the most marvelous, and sometimes fantastic, images floating among them. The intent is quite serious, of course, as each of the seven continuous sections reflects on some aspect of Einstein’s thoughts and works, art, and science. It is the work to which I returned most often, reveling in its depth and uncommon beauties.
So, this CD is a thoroughly enjoyable experience. The work of orchestra and conductor in these performances is exemplary, something that I have not always felt when hearing recent recordings from this source. The engineering is superb. I can think of no better way to come to know the work of this fascinating composer. Highly recommended.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
British Classics / Davis, Atherton, BBC Symphony, BBC Wales National Orchestra
This release combines two much loved British classics: Elgar's seminal 'Enigma Variations' and Holst's orchestral masterpiece 'The Planets'. In an acclaimed BBC drama-documentary filmed in the rolling Malvern Hills, Sir Andrew Davis unravels the mystery of the famous musical puzzle contained in Elgar's work followed by a landmark performance of the complete score by the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Andrew Davis given in the cathedral in Elgar's home town of Worcester. The lavish visualization of Gustav Holst's orchestral masterpiece 'The Planets' and Colin Matthews' additional movement 'Pluto', the Renewer features spectacular images which enhance the symbolic meaning attributed to each planet by the composer. Directed by Rhodri Huw, this memorable audiovisual experience blends images filmed in many locations around the world, computer graphics, animatronics and a splendidly atmospheric performance by the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. "Sir Andrew Davis's fine performance of the Enigma Variations, with Nimrod hushed, slow and steady, was recorded in the atmospheric surroundings of Worcester Cathedral, where Elgar said everyone should hear his music. Davis introduces a highly enjoyable documentary about the work and 'the friends pictured within'. In the documentary he suggests that each variation, as well as reflecting the character of a particular friend, reveals much about Elgar himself, 'like an actor playing many roles'." (The Penguin Guide - Elgar) "As for the performance, this is not a run-of-the-mill Planets. Atherton recreates the score with both subtlety and aplomb, and with the necessary bravura when called for. It is difficult sometimes to pay too careful attention to the music given the sheer overwhelming beauty of the visual images, but the underpinning is very present, and one comes to a whole new appreciation of Holst’s masterpiece by having a visual element." (Musicweb International - Holst)
The Music Of Ursula Mamlok, Vol. 3
MAMLOK 5 Capriccios 3,6. Stray Birds. 1,2,11 Fantasy-Variations. 12 Panta Rhei. 7,9,10 5 Bagatelles. 4,8,10 String Quartet No. 2 13. Confluences. 4,7,8,10 Kontraste 3,5 • 1 Phyllis Bryn-Julson (sop); 2 Harvey Sollberger (fl); 3 Heinz Holliger (ob); 4 Helge Harding (cl); 5 Urusla Holliger (hp); 6 Anton Kernjak, 7 Heather O’Donnell (pn); 8 Kirsten Harms, 9 Susanne Zapf (vn); 10 Cosima Gerhardt, 11 Fred Sherry, 12 Jakob Spahn (vc); 13 Sonar Qrt • BRIDGE 9360 (72:45 Text and Translation)
This is the third disc from Bridge devoted to the music of Ursula Mamlok; I reviewed the second in Fanfare 34:6. Like its predecessor, it offers an attractive and varied conspectus of the music of this impressive composer. Again the works cover a wide span of time, here from Stray Birds (1963, written when the composer was 40) to Kontraste (2010). It is gratifying to hear no falling-off of quality; indeed, the consistently high level of inspiration and technique is a hallmark of this disc (if I may be so presumptuous). Also again, we have many multimovement works, here totalling 33 tracks. Most of the movements are short (less than two minutes) and this concision can be hard to take in at first.
It is interesting that seven of the eight works here contain one movement that is far longer than any of the others in the work. In the case of the Five Capriccios for oboe and piano (1968) that open the disc, the final movement, even though it is barely four minutes, is still longer than the other four combined. Curiously, there is no sense in which the structure of any of the works on this disc feels unbalanced, nor does one feel that the shorter movements are breathless, or cut short. Mamlok judges the structures perfectly. In the first of the capriccios, one may think the trick is going to be a limited amount of thematic material in each movement, but the second and fourth capriccios are impassioned and intense with diving and swooping melodic lines. All four create powerful little statements (really, with Mamlok’s music every note has an active, individual purpose) that are then elegantly and coolly meditated upon in the relatively extended finale. In this work each movement is merely given a metronome marking; in later works Mamlok was given to somewhat poetic names for these longer movements. They are typically marked “Still, with utmost simplicity,” “Still, as if suspended,” though there are also a Larghetto , a Molto tranquillo , and so on. It is as if the brisk movements collect the necessary ingredients to enable the slow movement, usually at or toward the end of the work, to happen.
The Five Bagatelles for clarinet, violin, and cello (1988) shows Mamlok’s style becoming somewhat more diatonic. At the same time, every note seems carefully chosen and weighed; the music is written with care and precision, so that even as simple an idea as the insistent oscillating minor third that runs through and characterizes the second movement appears fresh yet inevitable. The odd-numbered pieces are especially good at capturing gaiety and humor while the long penultimate bagatelle, poignant and drawn out, is a satisfying contrast. In the Second String Quartet, from 1998, one can hear Mamlok’s style has subtly shifted again. If in the earlier works discussed the instruments were sharply characterized individuals, always playing against each other—against in the sense of differentiated from, not in an antagonistic way—in the quartet there is, in addition, more concerted music (in the first movement, for example) and even (in the second) momentary deference of an instrument to the others by adopting an accompanying role (I’m thinking of the slow pizzicatos). And, in the third and last movement, real drama and tension, with some sharp shifts of tempo and mood, all in an event-packed four minutes. I think “concision” is probably an unhelpful word for a lot of Mamlok’s music; “compression” would be better. And if I pass over the remaining works on the disc, it is only through lack of space.
The string quartet receives a fine, committed performance from the Sonar Quartet, three of whose members—Kirsten Harms, Susanne Zapf, and Cosima Gerhardt—play in three other works on the discs. Apart from the two Holliger pieces and Stray Birds , the recordings here are a coproduction with German Radio Köln, and they are as fine and meticulous as are the performances and the music itself. The Holliger performances, which open and close the disc, and which are a little cooler in presentation, come from Zürich. Stray Birds is a reissue of a recording previously on CRI. Bridge has done the composer proud. I found it a long disc to review—not, I hasten to add, because I disliked the music, but because it demands and deserves the same attention from the listener that the composer evidently gave it. One didn’t really want to listen to this CD all the way through, preferring to savor a couple of pieces at a time. And, it’s true, I found I needed time to get into the music. But it richly repays the effort and I certainly feel my somewhat neutral response to the earlier disc must be reviewed. This is clearly music that should be heard, which will appeal to the heart as much as the head, and which will enrich as well as entertain.
FANFARE: Jeremy Marchant
Variation5
Variation5'' is the title of the wind quintet's eponymous debut album - and variation5 is an ensemble if five very different characters, musicians who as winners of first prize in the ARD Music Competition are united by one thing: rather than cling to traditional performance practice and repertoire, they create new and exciting programmes and present them in their own cheeky, youthful, laid-back manner. This first joint album of theirs gives the five musicians the chance to present modern 20th century classics for wind ensemble. They push atonal preconceptions to one side; the works are catchy and offer auditory variety as well as a relaxed balance of sound such as has rarely, if ever been heard before. The five wind musicians - Magali Mosnier, Ramon Ortega-Quer, Sebastian Manz, David Fernandez Alonso and Marc Trenel are anything but your typical ''classical-music nerds''. The assumption that a wind quintet represents an exceptionally difficult combination is one they can confidently debut: they are so well attuned to one another that their instruments fall into harmony with one another and sound, when played together, almost like an organ. That gives the ensemble a unique authority of its own.
David: Symphonies Nos. 2 & 4 / Wildner, ORF Radio-Sinfonieorchester Wien
I can only reiterate my colleague’s enthusiasm for David’s symphonies. On paper, an expectation of ersatz Hindemith or Hartmann would be quite understandable. Descriptions of David’s music have often suggested dry, competent academicism – the reality seems very different. There is a clutch of stylistic allusions and comparisons one could make, but there is a great deal that is fresh, inspired and enjoyable about these works. Above all, they don’t meander; they appear to be really coherent and well-formed. This was my abiding impression of the first disc, and it applies here too. Indeed, the splendid Second Symphony on this disc lasts almost three-quarters of an hour – and I would argue that is not a moment too long.
Scored for a big orchestra, this work was completed by David in the summer of 1938 while he was holidaying in the upper Austrian highlands. It begins with a mysterious, chromatic theme played on a solo flute, before other solo woodwind instruments take on the melody and the sound and structure begin to fill out. These understated chamber-like wind textures belie what is to come. There are a lot of exposed solo lines in this work, which hint at a hibernal solitude. However, frenetic strings eventually join the fray, projecting a virility which certainly evokes Hindemith. The material evolves naturally from the original theme (indeed David embraces monothematicism throughout his symphonic corpus) and is developed most skilfully. Vibrant colours are achieved via judicious washes of tuned and untuned percussion which sporadically perforate the fuller orchestral textures. The mood of this music seems untouched by the date and place of its provenance – although it’s neither ecstatic nor joyful, it instead projects a sense of cautious optimism. One passage at 9’13 strongly evokes Hindemith’s great Harmonie der Welt symphony - David’s work pre-dates it by 13 years! As the movement heads toward its conclusion, with more adroitly played solo clarinet and bassoon, the mood briefly becomes more melancholy and terse. But this is a momentary reflection; the busy string gestures soon return and see us to the movement’s energetic, meaty conclusion which, in turn, suggests this composer’s true hero, Bruckner. Notwithstanding David’s fiercely twentieth century idiom the spirit of the Linz master is rarely far away in this music.
The two central movements, largo e cantabile and scherzo, are both relatively brief. The note quotes a contemporary critic as detecting a hint of Pfitzner’s operatic masterpiece Palestrina in the slow movement. Adopting an arch-like structure, it is an enigmatic, ambiguous essay which generates an uneasy calm. The string writing at its centre is glowingly beautiful. Rhythmically speaking the Scherzo is even more Brucknerian; here I detect something approaching bucolic joy, albeit one that’s oddly claustrophobic. The central trio section delights in strummed string effects. Some of the wind writing is almost jazzy and certainly gloriously sophisticated. The main theme soon gets under one’s skin. It ends abruptly - seemingly a David trademark.
The finale is a massive and ambitious passacaglia. I found it deeply impressive, but it requires effort on the part of the listener. It portentously reconstitutes the main theme from the first movement, initially stated in lower strings, and presents 31 superbly contrasting and interesting variations, seamlessly woven together with richly imaginative orchestration and plenty of opportunity for the principals of the ORF band to show off. There is a suppressed and not necessarily benign power at work in this compelling and measured movement. The ORF orchestra may lack the weight and sheen of their better- known Viennese counterparts but they invest this strange music with real passion and exceptional commitment. I suspect it would require a cold heart for a keen listener not to be moved by it. While I certainly found David’s Symphonies 1 and 6 to be technically accomplished and compelling, I believe this Second Symphony trumps them both. Needless to say, one cannot help but repeat the oft-asked question: where has this music been all my life?
The Symphony No 4 is harder work; it is effectively David’s ‘War’ Symphony. He made three attempts at writing it: the second draft was destroyed with his home in Leipzig during an air-raid in 1944. In fact, according to the booklet note, David rushed back into his burning house and rescued his son’s parakeets and what he thought was the almost-completed symphony. As it turned out it wasn’t – he thus reconstructed it from memory in a third and final draft which he completed in 1948. The opening dirge-like theme emerges gradually in winds and strings in the opening, brief slow movement. The brass provide more ominous colours which add to the prevailing solemnity - given the circumstances of the work’s gestation, this material seems more than apt. Gary Higginson mentioned Rubbra in his review of the earlier disc and there is again a hint of that composer’s controlled power in this movement. The pent-up energy is released in the following Allegro moderato, a terrific and compelling fugue. It builds inexorably with ripe timpani rolls and imaginative counterpoint towards a brass-dominated conclusion which again ends abruptly. Another Brucknerian Scherzo follows. The first half of this is oddly wistful and as light as air, suspended by what the note describes as “…impressionistically shimmering sonic ornaments…”. The orchestration in the middle section thickens momentarily before serene harp figurations puncture the flowing strings and winds. The movement concludes with a mercurial sense of urgency. At the outset of the fugal finale, the material heard at the opening of the work returns, somewhat shorn of any residual sentiment. It generates a somewhat muted, but not unappealing momentum. The orchestration throughout the finale is both transparent and vivid although its ending is somewhat troubled and ambiguous.
David’s Fourth Symphony then is a terse and rather compressed affair. It doesn’t disclose its qualities immediately and is the archetypal tough nut to crack. I’ve given it a few listens now and although I am beginning to like it, I feel it lacks some of the easier-going charm of its coupling here. Wildner leads the ORF Radio Symphony Orchestra in searching and committed accounts of both works, although I didn’t find their efforts here quite as polished as those on their previous David disc. As mentioned, that was recorded three years later and I suspect the orchestra by then had better found their way with this composer’s distinctive idiom. The recording is faithful without being spectacular and I am happy to report that CPO’s documentation is first-class – there is a wonderfully detailed introduction to these works by Dr Bernhard A. Kohn (the keeper of the David archive) which has been translated into perfectly comprehensible English (not always the case with CPO). As with the previous volume it includes several musical examples of David’s thematic material. I hope we aren’t kept waiting too long for the next instalment in this fascinating series.
– MusicWeb International (Richard Hanlon)
Edward Cowie: Rock Music - Piano Sonatas 1-3
Buxtehude Collection
Rosner: Orchestral Music, Vol. 2 / Burchett, Palmer, London Philharmonic Orchestra
The musical language of the New York-based Arnold Rosner (1945–2013) clothes the modal harmony and rhythm of pre-Baroque polyphony in rich Romantic colours, producing a style that is instantly recognisable and immediately appealing. This second Toccata Classics album of his orchestral music contrasts the high-spirited Unraveling Dances – a rhapsody with more than a nod to Ravel’s Bolero – with the powerful symphonic suite Five Ko-ans for Orchestra and Rosner’s dramatic, dark, hieratic setting of Kafka’s The Parable of the Law for baritone and orchestra. American baritone Christopher Burchett has appeared on the stages of opera companies throughout the United States and Europe, including New York City Opera, Santa Fe Opera, and The Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Opera News has described him as a ‘fearlessly vulnerable’ performer, ‘who gave an unflinchingly, heroically human performance that will linger long in the memory.’ Nick Palmer is music director of the Lafayette Symphony in Indiana, North Charleston Pops in South Carolina and the ‘Evening Under the Stars’ music festival in Massachusetts; principal pops conductor of the Altoona Symphony in Philadelphia; and distinguished conductor in residence at Kentucky Wesleyan College.
REVIEW:
This is the second of Toccata’s blessed progression of discs of orchestral music by New York-based Arnold Rosner. You can find reviews of Volume One here and here. Toccata have also issued a chamber music disc. Rosner wrote serious tonal music and the performances on this disc and its recording qualities are a superb compliment to Rosner’s achievement. There is nothing circus-like, trivial or superficial in his output. Even his Millenium Overture packs a far from cheap punch - imposing and sturdy.
The Five Ko-ans for Orchestra comprise No. 1 Music of Changes, No. 2 Ricercare, No. 3 Ostinato, No. 4 Music of Stillness and No. 5 Isorhythmic Motet. They are like a sequence of Samuel Barber’s essays yet distinguished by this composer’s trademark incessant persistence and cool limpidity. These qualities are juxtaposed with passages that are gaunt, statuesque and imposing. The music is not at all ascetic: witness the Respighian horn whoops in the first of the Ko-ans and the brief climactic pages in the Fourth Ko-an. Rosner’s writing throughout these five separately tracked pieces is grand. Indeed, all three works on this disc are further testimony that a Rosner score could have been written by no-one else. That is not to say that certain facets of his language do not touch base with other composers. Vaughan Williams is one reference point but Rosner has his own spare yet dynamic style. Few composers’ music can attain the feeling that he evokes of a lonely listener in some temple looking up giddily at the capitals of the towering columns. That sense of being lost in the moment - an intensity of today’s mindfulness. The Third Ko-an, the shortest of the five, pummels away rapidly and with a motoric power that appears indefatigable. The Fourth is a more peaceful essay - relaxed repose dominated by woodwind solos. The valedictory Fifth ends with a drift into hard-won silence. A Ko-an is defined by Rosner as “a riddle, action, remark or dialogue not comprehensible by rational understanding but conducive to intense or prolonged meditation.”
The other works here include the vigorous 16-minute Unraveling Dances. Through eleven variations the composer draws on familiar musical references: Renaissance, Baroque and Middle Eastern. The writing is richly colored and almost extravagantly joyful use is made of the orchestra. The work rises to a formidable conclusion of dancing grandeur - Rosner’s aural window opened out onto the music of the spheres.
The disc finishes with the 24-minute setting of Kafka’s The Parable of the Law for baritone and orchestra. The words set are reproduced in Toccata’s booklet. The music is hieratic, dramatic and dark-hued. A typically striking introduction commands by quiet and confident insinuation. Soon the slightly mournful baritone, Christopher Burchett, enters, singing of his long and ultimately unsuccessful wait and pleading for entry to “The Law”. The music is sombre, chiming and mesmeric as befits the Kafka text but rises to fury and sneering as the singer presses his bootless case for entry. There is something of RVW’s Pilgrim about the man trying, without success, to persuade The Doorkeeper to permit him access to The Law. The words are less sung and more spoken in hopelessness at 13:00. Later on, Burchett superbly shadows the orchestra in a pitch of roiling excitement although the final pages spell deep peace.
The liner-notes are by none other than Walter Simmons who has done so much for US composers of the generations beyond Gershwin, Copland and Bernstein. He has been a doughty advocate of Rosner’s music as he has also of Schuman, Persichetti, Mennin, Barber, Bloch, Creston, Flagello, Giannini and Hanson. He is also the producer of this disc. I just hope that there are later volumes.
-- MusicWeb International (Rob Barnett)
Queen Elisabeth Competition – Piano 2025 (Live)
Mendelssohn: String Quartets, Vol. 1 / Doric String Quartet
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REVIEW:
Op. 44/3 is the longest of the quartets, and the outer movements can sometimes come across as prolix. The Doric’s performance steers clear of this trap – again through the controlled variety and technical ease of their music-making – as well as tripping the light fantastic in the scherzo, and laying bare the emotional ambiguity of the Adagio. I look forward to Volume 2.
– BBC Music Magazine
Galuppi: Keyboard Sonatas Vol. 2 / Matteo Napoli
GALUPPI Keyboard Sonatas, Vol. 2: in B?, Illy 14 ; in d, Illy 2 ; in c, Illy 34 ; in C, Illy 27 ; in E?, Illy 24 ; in d, Illy 56 ; in D, Illy 1 • Matteo Napoli (pn) • NAXOS 8.572490 (68: 12)
Most people know Baldassare Galuppi (1706–85) as mainly a composer of opera, probably because he was certainly the major figure in Venice during the development of the opera buffa in the 1730s. He was, however, also well regarded as a keyboard player, and his music, mainly sonatas, was widely distributed throughout Europe even during his lifetime. Musicologist Hedda Illy catalogued more than 100 of them, but one and a half times as many other works for keyboard, including divertimentos, toccatas, and smaller pieces, have since turned up, making him one of the principal composers alongside predecessor Domenico Scarlatti.
This disc represents the second volume of what will eventually be a complete cycle of Galuppi’s sonatas, performed here on a modern Steinway piano, if the picture of Matteo Napoli on the back of the cover is accurate. Originally, the designations were probably far more generic, as in perform them on whatever keyboard instrument you might happen to have at hand. These are intimate chamber works, meant to provide entertainment in small private settings, and the publication of two sets of these in London between 1756 and 1759 was clearly aimed at the discerning amateur. That is not to say that the sonatas were simple or technically manageable by the intended performers. Rather, they explore a wide variety of styles and abilities that Galuppi no doubt absorbed during his long lifetime. In this particular set, arranged according to no real sequence or pattern, this variety is quite evident. Two of the works are in two movements, a sort of halfway house between the traditional Classical-period sonata and Scarlatti’s single-movement pieces. The first of these on the disc, in D Minor, opens with a lively set of motivic sequences that are spun out in Baroque fashion, making it clearly an early work. The second, also in D Minor, is more of a da chiesa form, with a lament first movement that has distinctive Neapolitan operatic roots in its emotional unfolding. The first seems made for harpsichord with its figuration, while the second might require a more nuanced instrument, such as a clavichord. The remainder are the usual three-movement format, all of which begin with a slow movement, followed by a lively Allegro, and concluding with some sort of stylized dance. In the sonatas in B? and C, Galuppi opens with a long lyrical theme above a flowing Alberti bass, simple and eloquent. In the turgid C-Minor sonata, the first movement is a cascade of scales and harmonic twists worthy of C. P. E. Bach. In the E?-sonata, he opens with a nocturne of Mozartean purity, lyrical and sinuous. The fast movements are usually highly virtuosic in their technical displays. In the D-Major sonata, the ever-changing figuration and chromatic lines are like a perpetual motion machine, shifting by phases (or phrases) in a Baroque manner using Classical era harmonies. The final movement of this sonata contains a theme and variations based upon a nice tune that Mozart probably would have killed to have. In the C-Minor sonata, this final movement is turned into a demented minuet, with the melody scurrying through scalar passages in between the block triple meter dance. All in all, these works show that Galuppi was cognizant of the evolution of style during his life and used it to best advantage.
Pianist Matteo Napoli is to be congratulated for persevering in this series, the first volume of which (Naxos 8.52263) I found quite stimulating. His playing is always finely nuanced, with expressive details emerging even during the most mechanical sequential passages. The works, most of which do not have much in the way of dynamic markings apparently, seem to fit quite well on the modern piano, though of course it would be great to have them also on instruments of that period. The piano, though, eliminates the need to determine just which keyboard instrument fits each sonata, perhaps a daunting task. But no matter; this disc is a must-have for those interested in 18th-century keyboard music, and I for one wait with anticipation for the next volume in the series.
FANFARE: Bertil van Boer
Bacri, Guglielmi, Lekeu & Messiaen: En Variant
Bach J.s.: Organ Chorales Vol. 2
SCHUMANN: WALDSZENEN, CARNAVAL, GEISTERVARIATIONEN
Brian: Orchestral Music, Vol. 1 / Garry Walker, Bbc Scottish Symphony
I have to admit to this being the disc I have most eagerly awaited hearing for some months. That being the case I am delighted to be able to report that it has fulfilled all my expectations if not exceeded them – let us all hope that the titling of this as ‘Volume 1’ really does augur well for an extended series of discs by this unique composer.
In recent years there has been a steady trickle of Brian’s orchestral works appearing on CD but when you dig a little deeper it becomes clear that these are in effect re-releases of performances where the originals date back some years. So in fact it is nearly ten years since the last ‘new’ recording – Psalm 23 on ClassicO [recorded 2002], then back into the 1990s for the abortive Marco Polo/Naxos ‘Brian Cycle’, the 1980s for EMI’s brief flurry of interest using the RLPO, and the 1970s for the Leicestershire and Hull Schools Symphony Orchestra’s brave traversal of several discs with Unicorn-Kanchana and CBS. This is by no means a complete survey but it gives you a sense of the piece-meal attempts to commit Brian to disc.
Toccata Classics are proving to be valiant disciples of the Brian cause both on disc and in print. Recently I had the pleasure of reviewing the superb Havergal Brian on Music: Volume Two which Toccata have published. Both that project and this have been instigated under the watchful eye and guiding hand of the Havergal Brian Society and Brian expert Malcolm MacDonald. As part of the book review I commented - has ever a composer been so fortunate in their biographer / promoter as Brian with MacDonald? His knowledge, insight and understanding of this shamelessly idiosyncratic composer is little short of stupendous. That sense of dedication suffuses every element of this recording from the fascinating choice of repertoire on this well programmed CD to the fine engineering supporting excellent playing from the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra.
I have to admit that I have not heard any of this music before so I have no frame of reference with which to compare the current performances. Suffice to say there is an air of ‘rightness’ and conviction that is vital to bringing off this often quirky music. Having read the two volumes of Brian’s critical writings has only increased my appreciation of him as a composer. I have a suspicion that even among his more famous composer contemporaries he was the most knowledgeable about the latest developments in the musical scene. His journalistic writing shows him as an enthusiastic supporter of an extraordinarily wide and diverse range of then contemporary music. This, to my mind, adds significantly to his stature as a composer in his own right for instead of producing a mish-mash of musical influences his own work remains strikingly independent. It is well-known that he was largely self-taught as a composer but the choices he makes; structurally, harmonically or melodically are never made through ignorance instead they are guided by a quirky individualism. And therein lies the rub for the listener new to his sound-world; it can often seem that musical material is juxtaposed in a random and almost obtuse manner. Here is where Malcolm MacDonald proves to be such a valuable guide. Whether in this liner or in his definitive 3 volume study of the Brian Symphonies he makes it clear that in what might initially seem ramshackle and even chaotic there is actually a very sophisticated control of form and structure. Brian is dancing to a different tune and it can take the listener some time to ‘hear’ his message. Conductor Garry Walker has become fully attuned to the Brian idiom. As mentioned before these are strikingly confident and convincing performances – orchestras are phenomenally skilled these days but to project such security and conviction as is heard throughout this disc requires those exact same qualities to be projected from the conductor’s podium. It is rare indeed that such complex and demanding music is first heard played as here and it adds considerably to the positive impact of the disc. On the evidence of this disc Walker proves himself to be an interpreter of distinction.
Another remarkable thought is the fact that the works performed here span an astonishing 65 years. The earliest work is the 1903 Burlesque Variations on an Original Theme. Never performed in Brian’s lifetime this is its first professional performance. But why? Some Brian can be tough to digest on first sitting but not this work – it has instant appeal. Written when Brian was 27 it represents his first effort at large-scale orchestral composition. He scored the work for a large romantic orchestra with triple wind, standard brass – but including four trumpets – extended percussion, two harps and organ. Lasting some twenty-five minutes and consisting of a theme and seven variations this is a well balanced and fascinatingly wide-ranging piece. Yes there are moments where the orchestration feels opaque and indeed clumsy but these are repeatedly offset by passages of remarkable power, mystery and beauty. Why Burlesque Variations? – MacDonald offers a fascinating opinion; variation form recurs often in Brian’s works and usually he chose to take a banal/simple tune and then expand the seemingly limited potential of that melody beyond all expectation. Hence the Fantastic Variations of 1907 – based on ‘Three Blind Mice’ or The Symphonic Variations of 1916 – based on ‘Has anybody here seen Kelly?’ are just two examples. It is as if Brian is trying a kind of alchemy transforming the base material of a simple song into musical gold. Yes, the influences are often clearer here than in later Brian and clearly Elgar provided a model but I am pushed to think of any other work by a twenty-seven year old British composer from around the turn of that century of such confident quality. Although I know others will disagree I find Josef Holbrooke’s music to have an empty bombast and reliance on musical effect to which Brian never resorts while York Bowen is interesting and appealing but never challenging in the way Brian is. The closing pages of these variations do try to lift the simple tune onto a grandiose level which is beyond both the melody and the composer (at this stage in his career) but elsewhere there are brilliantly achieved musico-dramatic effects. Try Variation 2 – Tempesto and the simply gorgeously poignant Variation 3 – Elegy that follows. The latter is the emotional heart of the work and opens as a gently regretful valse triste very much in the style of the Nedbal or Sibelius works of that name before building to a powerful strenuous climax way outside the remit of those pieces. The return to the reflective opening is typical Brian in the rapid change of emotional direction before he builds it back to a climax of cinematic splendour. Subtle it is not but hard the heart not to be moved on some level – I love it. Curiously the London publisher Bosworth published the suite which contains Nedbal’s work in 1903 and it became the composer’s biggest hit. But the similarity is one of form nothing more. But it does point up another fact worth considering here; Brian’s music never sounds “English” in the pastoral sense of the word. More ‘stout and steaky’ than ‘cowpat’.
Chronologically, the next work on the disc dates from exactly fifty years later. How typically perverse of Brian in austerity Britain to produce a work that by title alone would seem to belong to the light music world of Edward German or Percy Fletcher. For sure this is lighter music than much of Brian’s output but it has far more substance and muscle than the bulk of the light music repertoire. Not that it is at all in tune with the prevailing trends in 1950s contemporary music either. Again, one has the abiding sense of Brian writing music that suited himself when it suited him. This proves to be another piece of instant appeal with the heart of the work being the second movement Reverie. Throughout the whole work and the orchestral writing – angularly expressive but with awkward parts for solo instruments and some thrilling brass scoring – there is a scale and sweep that is very impressive. Clearly this is not meant to be a work uttering the profoundest thoughts and feelings of the composer but it does show the confidence and expertise with which Brian handled his resources. I would suggest ignoring the titles – I couldn’t help wondering if Brian has used such deliberately twee and diminutive headings in a provocative and ironic manner. Here is another curious parallel – the central pair of movements are scored first for strings alone – the aforementioned Reverie, and then wind and horns - Restless Stream. Vaughan Williams did much the same in his almost exactly contemporaneous Symphony No.8 – although the wind scherzo comes first before the string Cavatina. Not that we can accuse Vaughan Williams of any kind of plagiarism – Brian’s Suite was not to be heard for twenty years (neither can the accusation be reversed – the Vaughan Williams was not premiered until 1956). The closing Village Revels is also the final music on the disc – again ignore the title, this is quite unlike any revel I can imagine but it provides an exciting conclusion to all the works here.
MacDonald explains Brian’s recurring use of the term Elegy to describe movements or individual works. This was the title ultimately given to a 1954 composition originally called A song of sorrow. Brian renamed it some sixteen years later when reassessing his back catalogue with a view to publication. The rationale being that the original title implied a kind of emotional one-dimension that does not encompass the full range of this very impressive work. MacDonald points towards a definition that encompasses both the classical laments of Ovid and the romantic poetic works of Goethe and others. As a critic Brian wrote enthusiastically about Busoni and MacDonald sees a link with such works as that composer’s Nocturne Symphonique or the Sarabande and Cortege. But influence or inspiration is all this link should be seen as. Again Brian has produced a work as striking in its individuality as its expressive power. Jagged and rugged energy courses through this work. There are more of the typical Brian Symphonic fingerprints here, a sense of a restless quest the music searching and unstable. Yet at the same time there is an underlying feel of something grand and ceremonial. MacDonald sees it as a long slow struggle from C minor to the light of C major. Elsewhere on the disc I am a little uneasy about Brian’s penchant for almost hyper-active percussion writing. By my reckoning the percussion should point a moment in the score – dynamic alone need not be a factor – for Brian there seems to be a percussive ‘happening’ in nearly every bar. But here, massed side-drums set against tip-toeing xylophone creates some rather special effects. Again I have nothing but praise for the bravura confidence of the playing of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. There is some truly thrilling brass writing here dispatched with total aplomb. Much as I enjoy the discovery of the Variations on this disc if I had to choose one work to represent Brian it would be this Elegy. As this represents its first recording I would suggest that that alone is enough to merit buying this disc.
My only relative musical disappointment on this disc was with the Legend: Ave atque vale which opens it. In its own right it is remarkable because it is the work of a ninety two year old man. The title which means ‘hail and farewell’ is taken from Catallus’ poetic elegy to his drowned brother written in about 56 BC. MacDonald describes it as being ‘crammed to bursting point with disparate ideas’ which is a sympathetic way of saying perhaps it has not been edited or structured with as much discipline as earlier works. To my ear – given that this is NOT a judgment borne of extended familiarity – it sounds too rambling and disparate in its elements. Here the percussion has an absolute field day throughout without really justifying their continuous presence in musical terms. Possibly this is the kind of work that Brian’s detractors might single out as showing his weaknesses. However, it has the great good sense not to outstay its welcome and by representing just seven minutes of over an hour of vintage Brian no collector need hesitate on this piece’s account. On a positive note it does act as an extraordinary tribute to the undying vitality and individuality of Brian to very end of his long life.
Hopefully, it will be clear by now that I consider this a very special disc – exactly the kind of high quality combination of rare repertoire, performance and technical presentation that collectors hope for. For those as yet unfamiliar with the Havergal Brian I think this could act as an excellent introduction. On the recent Testament release of the famous Boult/BBC performance of Brian’s legendary Gothic Symphony the disc concludes with an interview with the composer where he underlines the fact that he wrote music with little or no expectation of hearing it performed. Instead he was responding a personal creative imperative that could not be denied. How gratified he would be to know that finally his music is beginning to receive the attention is deserves. A Volume 2 from this same team is essential and this current disc will be one of my discs of the year without doubt.
-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International