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Journey To The New World - Duarte, Niles, Etc / Sharon Isbin, Joan Baez, Mark O'connor
Sony Masterworks · Mar 2009CD$11.98 -
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SaleRevueltas: Redes / Gil-Ordonez, Post-Classical Ensemble
Naxos AudioVisual · May 2016DVD$25.99$12.99
Brahms: Choral Works / Bruffy, Kansas City Chorale
One of the more foolish items in the British music press of the last year was a league table presuming to list in order of merit the world’s twenty finest choirs. Aside from any minor concerns about relevant criteria - only choirs whose performance material centred on what could be termed western ‘classical’ seem to have been judged - the utter impossibility of making absolute judgements about the merits of wildly diverse groups seems to have not concerned the compilers of such a list a jot. Good I guess for your group’s publicity machine if you made the list but wildly infuriating for the many who do not seem to have even been considered. More to do with weight of catalogue presence and therefore familiarity I wager than pure ability. Don’t get me wrong, the final twenty comprised superb choirs but the absence of any from Eastern Europe, or gospel groups or rock choirs or ensembles singing what might be collectively called folk or ethnic material fatally flawed the process. At the time the fact that no American choir either was featured caused as much of a stir as anything in the realm of classical music ever does. Listening to this superb disc from the ever-impressive Kansas City Chorale and you can understand why there was this annoyance. The Chorale under their long-serving music director Charles Bruffy recorded a series of discs for Nimbus back in the mid-nineties and it was through those that I first encountered them. Their Christmas recital Nativitas remains one of my all-time favourite discs for those seeking something away from the traditional Carols arr. Willcocks fare. The Chorale is a professional chamber choir with six voices allocated to each of the usual S.A.T.B. Their sound is characterised by a remarkably refined and balanced tone with the voices blending across all parts as well as I have ever heard. Attack and intonation are also exemplary and they have that superb ability of bending the sound they make to suit the style and period of the music they are singing. I like also the fact that their sound is not overly ‘young’. There seems to be such a predilection for choirs making an ever more pure or blanched sound that I find it something of a relief to here an out-and-out adult group. Not for a second does that imply anything matronly or lacking in focus; far from it. No surprise then that in this disc of warmly romantic music by Brahms they projected a rounded, warm and gorgeously mellifluous sound.
Before listening to this disc with the exception of the Liebeslieder I was rather ignorant of Brahms’ music for chamber choir - as these works might be termed. In his informative liner-note David Andrew Threasher valuably reminds us that Brahms took inspiration and influence from earlier Germanic composers such as Bach, Handel and Mozart. Certainly, one is aware throughout of a master-craftsman at work although apparently Brahms himself had doubts about their enduring worth asking his friend the violinist and composer Joseph Joachim; “apart from the ingenuity, is it good music?” The overall character of this CD is gently benevolent but within that Brahms experimented with various textural combinations of voices. There are straight 4-parts songs with piano accompaniment – Four Quartets Op.92 and Six Quartets Op.112; in the latter group only Nos.1 and 2 are recorded here. Superficially these were written for amateurs to sing at home gathered around a piano but the sophistication of writing would take it out of the range of such a group. Then there are five and six part works – the Five Songs Op.104 have setting for both groups while the Three Songs Op.42 are also for six whilst the Two Motets Op.29 are five part. This listing immediately tells you two things; that Brahms returned to this musical form throughout his life and that he wrestled with the tonal and textural implications of the form as well. Much as he – and other composers at the same time – found that adding an extra viola and cello to a string quartet allowed far greater richness in his String Sextets Opp.18 and 36 so here the line-up becomes SAATBB. Across the voices this adds greatly to the richness of the sound but it also allows, within the male/female split, that each group can cover the notes contained in the triads of basic chords. The Kansas singers are superb at achieving this blend – there is a quiet rapture to their performances of this music that I absolutely adore. In the earlier Op.29 motets only the bass line is split. This is logical since their model is Bachian and the second bass line is able to provide a musical foundation on which the other parts above build. As with the other Nimbus discs recorded in Kansas the production team have favoured a church location with the choir set slightly back into the acoustic. This gives a mellow warmth to the sound which I find ideal matching both the music itself and the performance style.
The highlight for me on this disc was the very opening sequence – Four songs for Women’s Chorus, 2 Horns and Harp Op.17. Even more than the famous excerpt from the Liebeslieder Waltzes that closes the disc this is the most truly Romantic (with a capital R) music on the disc. Opening with the quintessentially romantic instrument – the huntsman’s horn – this is simply glorious. I cannot think of any other examples in the repertoire for this unusual accompanying ensemble which no doubt accounts for its neglect either on disc or in the concert hall. One doesn’t associate Brahms with virtuoso harp writing but that is what we have here. Again the Nimbus engineers have placed the instrumentalists slightly back into the body of the church which allows them to play at a proper dynamic without swamping the often ethereal vocal writing. There is a rather serendipitous effect right at the start too –and one I was aware of only when I listened on headphones. The very opening song “Heart notes ring out, increasing love and longing..” is accompanied by bird-song sounding as if it comes from high in the roof of the church – given that the atmosphere of the whole set is powerfully nature-imbued this is disarmingly beautiful. Beauty is indeed the word I take from the entire disc. My only caveat is that the piano used to accompany the choir – although extremely well played by accompanist Cynthia Siebert – does not sound in the first flush of youth. The booklet as usual favours Nimbus’s preferred style of good-sized text printed in English only. Full texts in original languages (all German here) with English translation only are provided. Because this is not a mixed recital perhaps this disc does not show off the remarkable range of the wonderful Kansas City Chorale as impressively as some others I have heard. However, as a coherent well planned and superbly executed programme of rare Brahms this would be hard to beat even if there were multiple versions to choose; a quick scan of the catalogue would imply that there are not. A disc to savour for its serenely grave beauty and profound musicality.
-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International
Mendelssohn: Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 2 / Vogt, Paris Chamber Orchestra
Lars Vogt: 8 September 1970 - 5 September 2022
This new release is pianist-conductor Lars Vogt’s debut album together with the Orchestre de chambre de Paris. Lars Vogt started his tenure as the new Music Director of the orchestra on 1 July 2020. This album release continues Lars Vogt’s discography of recordings of cornerstone works within the classic piano concerto literature conducting from the keyboard. Previous album releases include the complete piano concertos of Beethoven and Brahms with the Royal Northern Sinfonia. In 2021, Lars Vogt won the OPUS Klassik award for the best solo piano album release of year from his recent Janácek solo album release (ODE 1382-2).
REVIEWS:
Lars Vogt’s dazzling playing on this new recording does [the concertos] full justice…this newcomer is very impressive and benefits greatly from the fine playing of the Orchestre de Chambre de Paris.
--BBC Music Magazine
German pianist Lars Vogt has been music director of the Royal Northern Sinfonia since 2015, and the recordings where he conducts from the keyboard have been markedly successful, including a complete Beethoven concerto cycle and (more daringly) the two Brahms piano concertos.
Vogt deserves praise for the crisp, precise, and buoyant accompaniments he evokes here from the Orchestre de chambre de Paris. These are vigorous, animated readings that take best advantage of the brilliant fast music in the outer movements, particularly the rocket that takes off at the start of Concerto No. 1. He made me appreciate the slow movements in both concertos, which doesn’t happen often, and the orchestral part is played with real warmth. Also, Ondine’s recorded sound is lovely, capturing piano and orchestra in perfect balance.
What I’ll return to are the two piano concertos, in which Vogt’s performances are as fine as any I’ve heard in years. Warmly recommended.
--Fanfare
Mendelssohn’s piano concertos are rather rarely played. Lars Vogt has recorded two of them together with the Orchestre de Chambre de Paris, of which he is the Music Director.
He and his orchestra play the Piano Concertos Nos. 1 and 2 with a great deal of impetus, unaffected, fresh, and very colorful. Vogt has the necessary polish and pulsating agility for these movements. The slower passages are interpreted sensitively, nuanced, poetic, but by no means too emotional. The overall result is a joyful and thrilling performance that can only be warmly welcomed and recommended. The well-balanced orchestra, playing with a fresh sound, is an excellent partner for Vogt, sworn to his conducting and soloistic rhetoric.
The Capriccio brilliant, however, leaves the most lasting impression. Lars Vogt plays it not only energetically, but with jubilant enthusiasm, and he transfers this enthusiasm to the musicians of the Paris Chamber Orchestra, who play with great spontaneity.
It is important to note that Vogt does not work according to the principle of ‘fast and loud’, but combines his energy with a fine feeling for the musicality of the works. The result is fascinating.
--Pizzicato
Mendelssohn performed by a chamber orchestra and directed from the keyboard always looks like an enticing proposition. And so it proves with this new set from the Paris Chamber Orchestra with Lars Vogt at the helm.
There’s a wonderfully Beethovenian flair to the First Concerto’s opening movement, but equally striking is the musicians’ way with more lyrical moments. And, as you might expect from such a first-class chamber musician, he gives as much attention to places where the piano accompanies as he does when he’s center stage. Crucially, the orchestra respond in kind, matching the soloist’s articulation and dynamics to an unusual degree. There’s plenty of fantasy too – in the piano passages Mendelssohn writes to link the first and second movements of each concerto, for instance, which unfurl with a naturalness reminiscent of Murray Perahia.
The Presto finales are imbued with terrific energy but never become merely note-fests – the level of detail remains impressive.
The album is filled out by the Capriccio brillant, Op 22, and what can be mere froth in unimaginative hands is wonderfully characterful here, the mock military march given a jokey swagger, with nicely present timpani and brass. In the final a tempo, with its mad running dash of semiquavers, Vogt is impressively unfazed and dazzlingly understated. The recording is excellent too, with a vividness that brings these master musicians right into your sitting room.
--Gramophone
Richard Wagner: Tannhauser
WAGNER Tannhäuser • Joseph Keilberth, cond; Ramón Vinay ( Tannhäuser ); Gré Brouwenstijn ( Elisabeth ); Herta Wilfert ( Venus ); Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau ( Wolfram von Eschenbach ); Josef Greindl ( Landgraf Hermann ); Volker Horn ( Shepherd ); Josef Traxel ( Walther von der Vogelweide ); Gerhard Stolze ( Heinrich der Schreiber ); Toni Blankenheim ( Biterolf ); Theo Adam ( Reinmar von Zweter ); Bayreuth Festival O & Ch • ANDROMEDA 5162, mono (3 CDs: 183:10) Live: Bayreuth 7/22/1954
I’d really like to know why so many Wagner lovers have a bee in their bonnet over Josef Keilberth. So often in others’ reviews I read that he was routine, dull, unimaginative, etc., etc., yet I’ve always liked his conducting. Even as far back as my earliest years in college, when I was absorbing the Wagner canon from old LP recordings in the library ( Lohengrin with Steber and Windgassen, Fliegende Holländer with Varnay and Uhde, etc.), I always found Keilberth’s conducting well-paced, beautifully phrased and articulated as well as urgent in dramatic scope, and so I find it here. Even as early as the Overture (the Paris version, so it connects to the Venusberg music), Keilberth sounds as if he’s on a mission, and that mission is to make Tannhäuser’s story as thrilling as is humanly possible.
The problem with this release is the sound quality of the orchestra. I don’t know whether this recording stems from an in-house tape or a broadcast, but whichever it is the orchestral sound is harsh. The strings grate, the brasses spit, and the timpani sound like someone hitting a garbage can with mallets. And yet, this is an improvement over the one previous issue I’ve heard on Melodram, which was actually worse than this: The sound was both grating and muddy. At least Andromeda was able to clarify the sound and remove most of the surface noise, and happily the poor sound only affects the loud orchestral passages (like the Overture and the beginning of act II), not the singing. It should be noted that the cover of this release claims all-new 24-bit remastering, although like so many off-brand reissues of classic broadcasts, it has no libretto.
The only somewhat weak link in the cast is Wilfert as Venus. She is just OK. Her voice is not tonally pretty or very expressive except that she yells a good deal, and as I’ve said many times, yelling is not an interpretation. She also has a weak low range, which makes her descents in the scale disappointing. (Yet later on in the scene, the voice becomes less tense and she actually sings the written trills, something many Venuses ignore.) Vinay takes a while to warm up, sounding clumsy in Tannhäuser’s more elegant lines and lacking ease in singing the turns (mordents) in “Dir töne Lob.” Yes, he was an outstanding actor, both visually (which of course we can’t see here) and vocally, and that helps in many scenes of the opera, but I’d have liked a bit more suavity in the opening scene.
Once we leave the Venusberg, however, things brighten up considerably. A quick look at the cast list explains why. We have not only seasoned veterans Greindl and Traxel as Hermann and Walther and the still-young but already-legendary Fischer-Dieskau as Wolfram, but also several singers who would, within a decade, become important artists in their own right, namely Theo Adam, Toni Blankenheim, and Gerhard Stolze. As an extra bonus we get the great Gré Brouwenstijn who, along with Cristina Deutekom, was God’s gift to the soprano world from the Netherlands during the 20th century, as Elisabeth. (I should also mention that boy soprano Horn as the Shepherd is exceptionally good.) In addition, the microphone placement, which makes the orchestra sound so harsh, seems to be perfect for the voices, which all sound right and natural. As the opera progresses, Vinay’s voice brightens and loosens up a little, which is all to the good. (While listening, I kept trying to figure out whose voice he reminded me of; the closest I could come was Bernd Weikl if Weikl sang tenor.)
In act II, the vocal acting reaches new heights. Seldom have I heard Elisabeth sung with such nuance and attention to detail as she is here by Brouwenstijn; listen to the way she paints the words in “Was war es dann,” for instance, and as opposed to Vinay, her vocal elegance in singing the mordents is flawless. Griendl, who could at times sing with a loose vibrato and unfocused tone (as in his studio recordings of Tristan und Isolde and Die Zauberflöte ), is in excellent voice, particularly in the low range, and his singing in “Gar viel und schön ward hier” is both powerful and well-nuanced. I found it ironic that “Blick’ ich umher,” which is supposed to be sung somewhat clumsily by Wolfram (the reason he loses the song contest to Tannhäuser), is so elegantly and beautifully vocalized by Fischer-Dieskau that it almost sounds as if he were giving a Lieder recital. Yet, all in all, the drama builds during this act more suspensefully than I’ve heard it in any other performance of the opera. It’s absolutely hair-raising.
Happily, the Prelude to act III is recorded much better than most of the other orchestral music, possibly because it is mostly played softly. The Pilgrims’ Chorus, taken by Keilberth at a quicker than normal tempo, may sound a tad glib to seasoned Wagnerians yet it still manages to sound fervent, and Brouwenstijn’s ensuing aria (“Allmächt’ge Jungfrau”) is sung with rapturous feeling. Needless to say, “O du mein holder Abendstern” is sung beautifully, but what’s interesting to me about young Fischer-Dieskau is that it was his low range that was better than later on (a situation that made his mid-1970s recording of Die Meistersinger so disappointing). Vinay’s voice, ironically, sounds even deeper than Wolfram’s (later on in his career, he returned to singing baritone and then even sang bass!), but he is locked into the character here, so his “Rome narrative” is movingly and dramatically sung with full attention to words, and his death scene is indescribably moving.
The bottom line, then, is that if you really love Tannhäuser you need to own this performance. Because of the sound quality and lack of a libretto it’s not a first choice—that plum goes to the Dernesch-Kollo-Braun-Solti stereo set on Decca—but all things being equal, the singers are recorded so well that if you simply ignore the harshness of the purely orchestral passages (particularly the loud ones), you’re in for an extraordinary treat. This was a Wieland Wagner production, and somehow or other he and Keilberth got the whole cast to perform at white heat.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
LIVE
Bizet: Carmen / Jordan, Von Otter, Glyndebourne Festival
CARMEN
Moralès – Hans Voschezang
Micaëla – Lisa Milne
Don José – Marcus Haddock
Zuniga – Jonathan Best
Carmen – Anne Sofie von Otter
Frasquita – Marty Hegarty
Mercédès – Christine Rice
Lillas Pastia – Anthony Wise
Escamillo – Laurent Naouri
Le Dancaïre – Quentin Hayes
Le Remendado – Colin Judson
Le Guide – Franck Lopez
Stoke Brunswick School Children’s Chorus
(chorus master: East Grinstead)
Glyndebourne Chorus
(chorus master: Tecwyn Evans)
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Philippe Jordan, conductor
David McVicar, stage director
Michael Vale, set designer
Sue Blane, costume designer
Paule Constable, lighting designer
Andrew George, choreographer
Nicholas Hall, fight director
Recorded live at the Glyndebourne Opera House, Lewes, Sussex, 17 August 2002
Bonus:
- Illustrated synopsis
- Cast gallery
- Costume design
- How to fight on stage
- Choreographing Carmen
- The music of Carmen
- The Gardens of Glyndebourne
Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: LPCM Stereo / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish
Running time: 220 mins
No. of DVDs: 2
R E V I E W:
Carmen can justifiably lay claim to be the world’s most popular opera. As director David McVicar points out in one of the revealing documentary extras on this excellent BBC release, it ‘is probably the first musical, with hit tune after hit tune’. He’s right, but as his own thought-provoking production makes amply clear, it is so much more than that, having deep psychological layers that he teases out very effectively. He has (rightly in my opinion) opted for a colourful, naturalistic production, with costumes and sets all conveying the correct period and general feel; no stylised or ‘concept’ nonsense to distract the viewer. This leaves him clear to get the cast to really act and get under the skin of the complex characters that inhabit the work. This makes for a riveting dramatic experience, with the many famous melodies and set pieces all in proper context. There is an erotic charge running through many of the exchanges of the principals, and McVicar sees sexual frustration as the key to many of these characters’ problems. This may have led to raised eyebrows at Glyndebourne, but it does make a lot of sense, given the ultimate events of the tragedy. He also opts to include the original spoken dialogue rather than the spurious recitatives, another aspect that works remarkably well. It fleshes the story out properly instead of holding up the action until the next big tune, as one might suspect it would.
So full marks for not messing with Bizet’s general instructions too much. Praise must also be heaped on the London Philharmonic, who respond magnificently to the flamboyant young maestro, Philippe Jordan (any relation to Armin, I wonder?). His energy and physical intensity, which is visibly there for all to see in the hectic, brilliant prelude (where he resembles Escamillo!), communicates through to the orchestra at every turn, and Bizet’s wonderful scoring is heard in all its glory. One could cite numerous examples, but hear particularly the characterful wind solos of the Act 2 Entr’acte, or the beautifully weighted brass chords that punctuate the famous ‘Toreador Song’, helping one to appreciate the harmony afresh. It really is a superb aural-only experience, the Gallic lightness making one understand why Richard Strauss once advised young composers learning orchestration to study Bizet’s scores, not Wagner’s.
So the reported controversy surrounding this production appears to be wholly related to the central casting. Here we have one of the world’s finest mezzos seemingly cast against type. Anne Sofie von Otter herself admits that she may not be everyone’s idea of the ideal Carmen – "too tall, Nordic and cool", as she puts it, and remembering great Carmens of the past (Berganza, de los Angeles, Price, Migenes etc.) she does have a point. All I can say is that she seemed to me wholly convincing, sporting a blazing auburn wig to help with the gypsy look (plus Sue Blane’s magnificent costumes) and acting and singing with such conviction that criticism was all but silenced. McVicar and von Otter have obviously worked on other aspects of the character, and rather than the smouldering wildcat, we get a more mature portrayal of a woman who can, as the director has it "eat men whole – and laugh while she’s doing it". She is a woman desperately seeking love, a free spirit that simply needs the right partner. This really does make the final tragedy all the more poignant, because we really believe that she has at last found the right person in Escamillo, but, as the cards tell her, fate has something else in store for her. The famous routines are all superbly choreographed, and she raises a laugh from the audience as she manages the second verse of her ‘Seguidilla’ while lighting a cigar, quite a feat!
Her Don José, American tenor Marcus Haddock, also gives a multi-layered portrayal, and his character probably develops more than any other. He constantly reminds us that this is a man hiding many demons, not least the fact that he killed a man in a duel, so we begin to realise early on what he is capable of. There is also the shadow of his mother, who we learn wanted him to become a priest (all this is in the invaluable spoken dialogue), so he is an unstable individual. His beautifully sung ‘Flower Song’ is not just a showstopper, but tinged with all the psychological baggage of a haunted man. The final confrontation with Carmen is riveting, with the fatal stabbing ghastly but not in the least melodramatic. This is believable verismo.
As Escamillo, Laurent Naouri is also encouraged to act with some subtlety, to enjoy his big moments but give us some character insight. Thus his oft-heard ‘Toreador Song’ is punctuated by glances towards Carmen, who responds with knowing eye contact (obviously the camera close-up helps here), and an immediate chemistry is established. His is less a testosterone-fuelled macho man than a virile counterpart to Carmen herself; one can actually believe they would have made a satisfied couple.
The Micaëlla, Lisa Milne, is a touch matronly for me, but I suppose we have to believe in her as the saintly sister figure, and while I miss some of the fragility of others in this part, she sings beautifully and makes a good contrast to Carmen. All the smaller parts are taken with real relish, and I particularly liked Jonathan Best’s Zuniga. Costumes, as mentioned, are stunning, with the stage for the final act dominated by black and a symbolic blood red. The dancing is a delight, sexy and energetic, and stage designs (by Michael Vale) atmospheric yet practical.
The extras on the double DVD set are worth having. There are revealing interviews with director and principals, as well as substantial individual features on music, costume, choreography and stage fighting. There is an illustrated synopsis, cast gallery and a ten-minute feature on the famous Glyndebourne garden. Having loaded the discs with the extras, the booklet is devoted to a specially commissioned reworking of the Carmen libretto by Jeanette Winterson, entitled ‘The World Beyond’, a moving and worthwhile updating of the basic story.
Whether you want to fork out for two full price discs may depend totally on your idea of the casting of the eponymous heroine. When this was broadcast last year, some of my colleagues thought von Otter so wrong they couldn’t watch it through to the end. While I accept she may not be what is expected visually, I think it is short-sighted to not see the whole package. Carmen does dominate, but there is an awful lot going on around her, and David McVicar has managed quite the most intelligent, believable opera production I’ve seen for some time. This is ensemble directing at its best. With von Otter (and everyone else, for that matter) in absolutely superb voice, accompanied by gloriously inspired orchestral playing, this is a musical and visual feast. Sue Judd’s subtle camera work helps the television experience. The BBC packaging is first rate, making an altogether outstanding record of a thrilling event.
-- Tony Haywood, MusicWeb International
, Reviewing original release, Opus Arte 868
Darling Of The Day / Original Broadway Cast
Principal cast includes: Vincent Price (Priam Farll), Patricia Routledge (Alice Challice), Brenda Forbes (Lady Vale), Peter Woodthorpe (Oxford), Teddy Green (Alf), and Charles Welch (Henry Leek).
Producers: George R. Marek, Andy Wiswell.
Recorded at Webster Hall, New York, New York in 1968. Includes liner notes by Steven Suskin.
Digitally remastered by Bill Rosenfield and Marian Conaty.
"This is one of the most witty, melodic and underrated Broadway scores ever, and those who love big, well-built musical comedies are in for a real treat with this beautifully remastered recording. . . . If you want to hear the latest 're-discovered' musical, grab a copy of this recording ASAP!" -- John Kenrick, Musicals101.com
Tracks:
1. Overture
2. He's A Genius Performer: Vincent Price (Singer), Peter Woodthorpe (Singer), Charles Welch (Singer)
3. To Get Out Of This World Alive Performer: Vincent Price (Singer)
4. It's Enough To Make A Lady Fall In Love Performer: Patricia Routledge (Singer), Teddy Green (Singer), Marc Jordan (Singer)
5. A Gentleman's Gentleman Performer: Patricia Routledge (Singer), Vincent Price (Singer), Teddy Green (Singer), Marc Jordan (Singer), Mitchell Jason (Singer)
6. Let's See What Happens Performer: Patricia Routledge (Singer)
7. Panache Performer: Peter Woodthorpe (Singer), Brenda Forbes (Singer)
8. I've Got A Rainbow Working For Me Performer: Vincent Price (Singer)
9. Money, Money, Money Performer: Teddy Green (Singer), Marc Jordan (Singer), Reid Klein (Singer)
10. That Something Extra Special Performer: Patricia Routledge (Singer)
11. What Makes A Marriage Merry Performer: Patricia Routledge (Singer), Vincent Price (Singer), Joy Nichols (Singer), Beth Howland (Singer), Teddy Green (Singer), Marc Jordan (Singer)
12. Not On Your Nellie Performer: Patricia Routledge (Singer), Teddy Green (Singer), Marc Jordan (Singer)
13. Sunset Tree Performer: Patricia Routledge (Singer), Vincent Price (Singer)
14. Butler In The Abbey Performer: Vincent Price (Singer)
15. Finale
LIVE AT WARSAW JAZZ JAMBOREE 1991
Reger: Orchestral Works / Segerstam, Norrkoping Symphony
REGER Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Mozart, op. 132. Symphonic Prolog to a Tragedy, op. 108. Piano Concerto 1. Suite in Olden Style, op. 93. Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Beethoven, op. 86. A Ballet Suite, op. 130. Four Tone Poems after Arnold Böcklin, op. 128 • Leif Segerstam, cond; 1 Love Derwinger (pn); Norrköping SO • BIS 9047 (3 CDs: 203:54)
This new compilation of Leif Segerstam’s Reger recordings, originally issued on three separate CDs in the 1990s, makes an outstanding introduction to the work of a composer still largely known by many classical lovers for his organ music and one song, Maria Wiegenlied. When I reviewed the 2-CD Guild set of historic Reger recordings ( Fanfare 37:6), I said how much I liked the works presented there. I can say much the same thing of this set, despite Segerstam’s penchant for slower tempos, simply because as a composer himself he approaches each work from a structural standpoint and brings out many subtleties.
Surprisingly, only two works are duplicated in the two sets, the Mozart Variations and the Ballet Suite . The Guild collection also included the Lustpielouvertüre, Serenade in G, Romantic Suite, and Eine vaterländische Ouverture. Possibly one may also want to hear Reger’s Violin Concerto, Sinfonietta, and the Variations on a Theme of Hiller, but otherwise, between these two sets, you have the bulk of Reger’s orchestral oeuvre . Early on in life, Reger became infatuated with both Bach and Wagner, and from these twin fonts of Teutonic culture he created remarkably interesting structures in music. And, surprisingly, his music is not only interesting but also fun to listen to, a point I made in regards to the Guild set.
Of the music new to me via this release, I was particularly impressed with the Symphonic Prelude to a Tragedy (which one might describe as a more modern, and more tragic, incarnation of Brahms’s Tragic Overture ), the piano concerto, and the Beethoven Variations and Fugue. My sole complaint of the recordings, and this probably has more to do with the engineering than with Segerstam, is that in quiet passages the music sometimes fades out of earshot. Unless you are listening with your ears very close to the speakers or, on headphones, with the volume turned up high, you will miss some of those softer passages. Other than that, however, I was very pleased overall with Segerstam’s readings. As usual with this conductor, transparency of texture is paramount, often revealing details that go unnoticed in others’ readings, and his subtle plasticity of phrasing keeps the music fluid and moving forward. Thus in a work like the Mozart Variations, one may prefer the more straightforward conducting of Eduard van Beinum in the Guild set, but one will find much more to hear in the Segerstam performance.
I was not particularly impressed by the Suite in Olden Style, which just toodled along and sounded nice but not much else. The Variations on a Theme of Beethoven is based on the last of the op. 119 Bagatelles. He originally wrote it for two pianos, but when preparing the orchestral score he eliminated four of the 12 variations and, according to the notes, changed both the playing order and the arrangement of keys. When he finished this score in August 1915, he had less than a year to live. In this case, I felt that Segerstam’s performance was a bit too airy for my taste, making the music sound less energetic that it might have, but the Ballet Suite came off pretty well. Segerstam’s problem, like the famous criticism of Bruno Walter, is that “when he comes to something beautiful, he melts.”
The liner notes suggest that the reason Reger’s Piano Concerto has failed to gain a place in the standard repertoire is that it is technically demanding but does not allow the soloist to “show off.” I would also suggest that the dark, brooding quality of the music is another reason. Most people like their piano concertos to sound cheerful or dramatic or, if somewhat brooding, then brooding in a Romantic Russian (read: Tchaikovsky or Rachmaninoff) sort of way, neither of which Reger gives us. This is a very complex piece, too, continually evolving yet knitting together its various sections within each movement with consummate mastery. (I would particularly commend this concerto to many modern American composers who write “clever” music that does not develop properly.) Derwinger is a committed interpreter, throwing himself into this complex score with emotional fervor, and Segerstam, too, is particularly dramatic here.
What makes this packaging even more attractive is that BIS is selling the 3-CD box at a special price. I found it listed for $32.75 at Presto Classical and $38.49 at ArkivMusic, an excellent bargain considering BIS’s normal price tag for single discs, which run around $21.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Gesualdo: Madrigals, Books 5 & 6 / Longhini, Delitiae Musicae
GESUALDO Madrigals , Books 5 and 6 • Marco Longhini, cond; Delitiae Musicae • NAXOS 8.573147-49 (three discs: 182:40 Text and Translation)
Don Carlo Gesualdo (1566–1613), Prince of Venosa (the last of that aristocratic line), is renowned for the mannerist music he wrote, both sacred and secular, and the personal failings that enliven so many accounts of his life. He spent an important few years of his life in Ferrara after marrying the niece of Alfonso II d’Este, a court where he had much company among composers and singers, including Cipriano de Rore, Jacques de Wert, and Luzzasco Luzzaschi, not to mention the celebrated singing Ladies of Ferrara. He had grown up in similar surroundings in Venosa, where one of his teachers was Pomponio Nenna.
Another set of Gesualdo’s madrigals has now been completed, the last of several recordings marking the quarter-centenary of his death, although even this last installment was recorded two or three years ago. Marco Longhini’s interpretive approach is just different enough to make this an alternative to the others rather than a competition among them. We have had the old version of Angelo Ephrikian, recorded in 1968 but still available, sung one voice to a part with slow tempos (not as slow as Longhini), stylistically obsolete in a new era of Baroque interpretation. The other complete set came from Kassiopeia ( Fanfare 33:4) with considerably faster tempos but a keen sense of style. Longhini has now provided the third complete set, including for good measure the few other secular works published separately. Several other directors have recorded complete books, perhaps hoping to complete all six, among them Harry van der Kamp (29:3), Anthony Rooley (8:2), and those mentioned below.
This collection is striking for its departure from the performance practice of the first four books, issued one disc at a time (34: 1, 34:5, 35:3, 36:2). In each of those discs, he acknowledged an alternative performance practice by using harpsichord or theorbo to accompany half of the madrigals, leaving the rest unaccompanied, as all other recordings known to me have done. In these last two books, the madrigals are all unaccompanied. I find no explanation in Longhini’s lengthy and informative notes to indicate why his practice in the first four books has not continued here.
Tempos are again an obvious measure of the difference among competing versions of these madrigals. In Book 5, the northerners, Kassiopeia (33:4) and Hilliard (35:6), take about 55 minutes in all, while among the Italians, La Venexiana (29:2) takes 64 minutes and Longhini 83 minutes. Book 6 is similar, for Kassiopeia (also 33:4) is 67 minutes, La Compagnia del madrigali (36:6) is 78 minutes, and Longhini is 100 minutes. The very first madrigal in Book 6, Se la mia morte brami , is exactly twice as long here as in Kassiopeia’s. I would rather hear it too slow than too fast, but note that the recent La Compagnia del Madrigale version is a moderate four minutes. So it goes for every selection, if not exactly a 2:1 ratio. To be sure, all the cited versions are listenable or better, and on the fast side the Hilliard’s Book 5 is exquisite. Choosing moderation, it may be noted that La Venexiana’s Book 4 (24:3) may be added to their Book 5 and La Compagnia’s Book 6 to encompass lovely renditions of half the total. On the other hand, do not overlook Longhini’s extensive and literate notes (in fluent translations) in each issue, treating both music and biography at considerable length.
All of the recordings cited are sung very well and recorded up close. If you started collecting Longhini, don’t hesitate to complete the set. Naxos prints texts and English translations in the booklets as well as posting them online, unlike for some of their other recent issues.
FANFARE: J. F. Weber
Nimrod Borenstein: Concerto for Mandolin and Orchestra; Shak
BREMEN 1965
Blondeau: Quatuors / Quatuors Ad Fontes
The present CD is no exception to the rule, and it has an extra bonus: it presents a very curious and almost unknown version of three Beethoven sonatas, skillfully transcribed by Pierre-Auguste-Louis Blondeau, who published them in 1808–09, for the benefit of the refined amateur. I would tell you more about this forgotten master, but you know what? You should really get this CD, and read the text: it will not only give you a very good idea about the composer and his artistic milieu, as well as a step-by-step commentary on the movements of each sonata (Michelle Garnier-Panafieu wrote the liner notes), but will also provide you with a knowledgeable article (by Denis Grenier) on the painting by Marie Éléonore Godefroid which graces the cover. To hear Beethoven in this new guise is fascinating and fun. At the same time, a surprise and an experience in déjà vu. No matter how much Beethoven himself used to condemn such transcriptions, somehow the music fits very well for the string quartet, and engages our interest right away. Evidently, a large part of the merit belongs to the musicians of Quatuor ad Fontes, who play with real zest and just the right touch of grittiness. After hearing the CD, I wondered whether I would not find the original version of these works a little bit subdued, from now on.
This is a very good recording, which should be valuable to anyone who loves Beethoven, as well as for those who hate him (maybe they will enjoy Blondeau more than they do the Viennese master). It is a must for all who are interested in the early Romantic period, or in transposition, or in string quartet repertoire, or who simply want to acquire a beautifully presented CD as a gift to someone special. In short: for practically everybody!
Laura Rónai, FANFARE
Letters from Scandinavia
Declarations - Music Between The Wars / Pacifica Quartet
The Pacifica String Quartet plays with such lovely tone that even the thornier bits of the atonal Seeger and the acerbic Hindemith works come across as elegant, even mellow. The truth is, both are full of beautiful and arresting music, and as these performances show, all it takes is a group willing to play them that way. This is particularly noticeable in the evocative Andante of Seeger's quartet--a brief work lasting barely 12 minutes in all, but one full of unusual textures and imaginative ideas. Similarly, the Hindemith never has sounded so warmly expressive. Its opening Fugato isn't just a neo-classical counterpoint exercise but a lyrical movement sculpted from long, flowing lines, while rude gestures in the second and fourth movements have plenty of guts but never for a moment turn gratuitously coarse.
This last observation holds particular relevance in considering Janácek's Second Quartet, a work of high drama and intense passion that some quartets make positively ugly. Indeed, you might at first find the Pacifica Quartet too smooth, but that impression turns out to be mistaken as the work proceeds. Consider, for example, the hysterical outburst midway through the third movement, with the violin screaming above a pulsating accompaniment. Not only does the passage erupt with all of the necessary violence and abruptness, but you can actually hear the individual components of the rhythmic underpinning below the wailing violin. Usually, the passage comes off as a blur. The Pacifica players also adopt an entirely appropriate and stylish use of portamento to give Janácek's melodic lines an extra touch of expressivity. Only the finale strikes me as a touch leisurely, though no less detailed or committed.
Like so many recent Cedille releases, the repertoire is so intelligently chosen (all three works are roughly contemporaneous, dating from 1922-31), so interestingly varied, and the engineering so impressively lifelike, that this disc adds up to considerably more than the sum of its highly enjoyable parts. This is a challenging release, but one that no admirer of top-notch quartet playing will want to miss. It provides an excellent opportunity to get to know music that many collectors might not otherwise rank high on their list of priorities, but that is well worth hearing nonetheless. In short, this is everything that an important new recording should be. [10/10/2006]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
CITY OF A MILLION DREAMS
Forgotten Provence 1150-1550 / The Martin Best Consort
The very welcome resurgence of the Nimbus and Lyrita labels has restored many treasures to the catalogue. This is emphatically one of them – an hour of music from medieval and early-Renaissance Provence on a recording to sit back and enjoy. Technically, this and the other recordings made by the Martin Best Consort and Ensemble are not reissues, since they are again available with their original catalogue numbers and still at full price. Almost five years after Nimbus got back on its feet, it is incredible that their recordings are not featured in the 2008 editions of either the Penguin Guide or the Gramophone Guide. I hope that the current review will partly redress that unfortunate situation.
The recording covers a number of themes, as stated in the sub-titles. The overall tone of the programme is lively, though with some reflective interludes. The texts are in Occitan, the medieval language of Provence, and Latin.
The first section deals with love, not always of the courtly type. In Ne l’oseray-je the woman laments that she is to be married off to an uncouth peasant; the man complains that everything in the home seems to be for his wife’s benefit. In Dessus la rive a sailor tries to have his way with a young girl, who appears to get the better of him.
Track 3 brings us to the theme of fin amors or courtly love, but with the boot on the other foot – the woman’s rather than the man’s. Beatriz, La Comtessa de Dia, or Comtesse de Die, was one of several independent-minded medieval Provençal women who fought their corner in a male-dominated world. In A chanter m’er de so qu’ieu non volria (I must sing of that which I would rather not), the only piece by any of the trobairitz, or female troubadours, to have survived with its melody, she adopts the role usually taken by the male lover, complaining that she is compelled to sing about a love that consumes her for someone who does not value her.
This work is also included on an excellent Hyperion recording, Bella Domna: The Medieval Woman (Stevie Wishart with Sinfonye on the budget-price Helios label, CDH55207 review – a well-deserved Musicweb Bargain of the Month). Sinfonye perform the work unaccompanied and at a slightly more leisurely pace. Both performances work well, capturing a tone of regret, rather than anger, at the indifference of the beloved. If I marginally prefer the Hyperion, it is a very close call – Lilly Crabtree on Nimbus sings excellently. All the versions which I know give the text as chantar, which would seem to be correct Occitan, but Crabtree clearly sings chanter, as per the booklet.
Those wishing to know more about the trobairitz should consult Klinck A L and A M Rasmussen (eds.), Medieval Woman’s Song: Cross Cultural Approaches (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2002). References to A chanter m’er are on p.8. Vecy le mai is a carole in rondeau form, one of those countless medieval celebrations of the month of May, "the merry month which stirs our hearts." Ma charmante cadet belongs to the chanson d’aventure type, though it omits the usual prefatory matter in which the man’s riding out is described; it represents a dialogue between a knight and a peasant girl who, as so often in such chansons, is his intellectual superior.
The sequence of free organum which follows allows a temporary respite from secular concerns. The term organum refers not to an organ accompaniment but to an early kind of polyphony in which the voices move at an interval against each other, usually at a fifth; in this case the technique is applied to a sung Alleluia into which the psalm text Justus ut palma has been inserted – "the righteous shall flourish like a palm tree." Those seeking to understand terms such as organum and polyphony will find lucid explanations in the Oxford Companion to Music. In any case, don’t be put off by these technical terms; just enjoy the music. A l’entrada del tens cler takes us back to familiar troubadour territory, the return of Spring. Li gelos chastises jealous men, while the Air de Cheval gives us a brief instrumental interlude.
Lancan li jorn is one of the most celebrated of troubadour cansos; in Jaufré’s text the lover longs with what the notes aptly describe as Michelangelo’s ‘divine discontent’, for his beloved in a far-off country. This piece is no less effective for its being viewed from the conventional male perspective. The note-writer thinks that Beatriz’s female-orientated version in A chanter m’er is somehow more ‘real’, but long experience has taught me never to be wholly convinced by circumstantial detail in literature – as when Rousseau retells Montaigne’s account of being knocked out by a rampaging animal, as if it were his own experience. Jaufre is just as convincing when his canso is sung as affectively as it is here.
In Ara Lauzata a lascivious monk wishes that the pretty girl he sees could be a beautiful nun encloistered in his house; he is obviously second cousin to some of the worldly clerics in the Carmina Burana, best known in Carl Orff’s arrangement, though the original medieval music has survived. The Sequence to St Peter and St Paul recalls us to the joyful praise which the monk should have been offering to the saints instead of the scurrilous thoughts to which he has given voice.
The Montpellier Motets are not all religious pieces – the term did not have that limited meaning originally. Pucelete/Je languis, Aucun and Lonc tans are all secular motets but Alle Psallite, which closes the sequence, is another eked-out Alleluia in praise of God. If you would like to investigate further the manuscript from which these pieces came, you could do much worse than to try the Anonymous 4 in Love’s Illusion: Music from the Montpellier Codex – a different style from that of Martin Best but equally enjoyable (Harmonia Mundi HMX290 7109, budget price).
Nightingales figured largely in medieval poetry and music. The first of the pieces entitled Rossignolet du bois asks if the nightingale has heard the voice of a village boy who wishes to be married but doesn’t understand how to behave in love. In the second the nightingale announces the arrival of Spring-time and love. In le Sodard, the soldier hears the nightingale sing that his love is dead. The lyrics are worthy of Housman’s Shropshire Lad and the music a rousing martial theme, played here with gusto, which contrasts with the soldier’s loss.
The Epiphany sequence Epiphaniam Domino is one of many such pieces contained in medieval missals, lengthy pieces which replaced the Gradual between Epistle and Gospel, very few of which survived the reforming zeal of the Council of Trent.
The final piece, Reis glorios, is a dawn-song, alba in Occitan, aubade in standard French. The words are spoken as if by the watchman who has been keeping guard over his master as he made love, but they are religious words, in praise of the Glorious King and His Holy Mother. The fine performance of this wonderful alba by Guiraut de Bornelh, named by Dante as the Master of the troubadours, makes an excellent conclusion to a very worthwhile programme, combining the secular and the spiritual, as the medievals did effortlessly.
The singing and instrumental playing throughout are excellent, in both the lively music – the courtly and the not so courtly – and the more reflective pieces. I leave aside the thorny issue of the extent to which such music should be accompanied. Regular readers will know that I have consistently given the highest praise to Hyperion’s budget-price Helios reissues of the recordings of Gothic Voices, who very rarely include an instrumental accompaniment. I trust that I shall not seem illogical in praising the Martin Best Consort, who do regularly employ such an accompaniment, in equal measure. There is certainly room for both approaches when such fine performers are involved; in any case, the accompaniments here are not overdone. Apart from the fact that the Gothic Voices reissues are at budget price, comparisons are odious – and there is no overlap, as far as I am aware, between this Nimbus recording and anything that Gothic Voices recorded: they concentrated on a mainly Northern French repertoire.
The recording is good – a little close, but that is not inappropriate in such music. The notes are informative, offering a general overview and individual notes on the separate tracks. Nimbus offer translations of all the works, but not the original texts. If only one could be included, I suppose that is the right way round, but I still think it a pity – medieval Provençal is not exactly a common enough skill for the listener to pick it up from hearing the CD. Hyperion are more generous in this matter: they always offer texts, albeit in minuscule form, including that of A chantar m’er in the booklet accompanying Sinfonye’s recording of Bella Domna. For convenience of those who buy the recording – many of you, I hope – I have included such original texts as I have access to, in an Appendix to this review.
Until recently, this CD was available with other Martin Best medieval recordings in a bargain collection. If you hurry, you may find that some dealers are still offering that set – a wonderful bargain. It was the original intention that I should review the collection but, although it is deleted in that form, Nimbus have kindly sent me the individual CDs to review. Watch out for reviews of the remaining volumes in due course.
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Gluck: Orpheus und Eurydike - A Dance Opera by Pina Bausch
Dancers: Yann Bridard (Orpheus), Marie-Agnes Gillot (Eurydike), Miteki Kudo (Amor), Ballet de l'Opera national de Paris.
Duration: 104 minutes
Image: 16:9 NTSC
Sound: PCM Stereo, Dolby digital 5.1
Subtitles: French, German, English, Spanish, Italian
Region: All
This is in a class by itself: it is the late choreographer Pina Bausch's vision of Gluck's Orfeo, originally produced in Germany in 1975. This performance took place at Paris' Palais Garnier in February, 2008. Bausch presents two sets of protagonists--for each solo singing part there is a solo dancer--with the dancing, of course, taking physical precedence, but with the singers thoroughly engaged as well. You might think this awkward on stage but it is not; like any great choreographer, Bausch knows her space, and furthermore has choreographed minimal movements for the singers to emotionally mirror the dancers'. Just so you know, Bausch eschews Gluck's happy ending: both main characters remain dead at this performance's close.
I could describe the entire performance--so rich, so fluid, so moving--but the opening scene will suffice. As the dancing Orfeo, the magnificent, muscled Yann Bridard enters on the right, dressed only in flesh-colored briefs, and stands perfectly still while mezzo Maria Riccarda Wesseling, the singing Orfeo, cries out Eurydice's name (forgive me for not using the German spelling despite the fact that the opera is sung in German); a dead tree is the only prop.
Stage left is Eurydice herself, silent (the dancer Marie-Agnes Gillot), sitting high above the stage floor in her white, shroud-like wedding dress which reaches to the floor, a bouquet of blood-red roses cradled in her arms. She looks down at the grief around her; black-clad women and men writhe with anguish, their hands imploring and twisting. Orfeo lies face down near the tree and as the mourners leave slowly, he begins a tortured solo, clearly begging the gods' assistance. Bausch's choreography throughout is filled with swaying and upper-body movement; the feet never fidget. After a brief while the singing and dancing seem inevitably intertwined, as if the opera were always performed this way. Much of it gives the impression of a dream.
Hell is watched over by three men in leather aprons; they return after Eurydice dies a second time to take Orfeo. A remarkable moment occurs at the opera's peak moment: Eurydice, now in bright red, has been dancing madly, trying to get Orfeo to look back at her. He does and she dies in his arms as the singing Eurydice falls to the ground. Dancing Orfeo picks her up and places her atop the dancing Eurydice, and singing Orfeo kneels and sings the opera's most famous aria, "Che faro senza Eurydice". The effect is ravishing.
The costumes, sets, and lighting by Rolf Borzik, as suggested above, are evocative yet unfussy. The Balthasar-Neumann Ensemble & Choir play and sing handsomely throughout, with the chorus placed in the pit behind the musicians. Thomas Hengelbrock leads sensitively, whipping up a storm for the Furies and serving the needs of both singers and dancers. Mezzo Wesseling's Orfeo is strongly and movingly sung; hers may not be the greatest voice or interpretation, but she fits this production. However, Bridard's dancing of the part is unmatchable--he's on stage throughout and he seems thoroughly transfixed, expressing every emotion wordlessly and with grace and power. Julia Kleiter's Eurydice is lovely, a perfect match for the glorious Marie-Agnes Gillot. And Sunhae Im's shining Amore matches Miteko Kudo's dancing of the part.
As mentioned, the opera is sung in German, which I guess we will simply have to forgive. Subtitles are in all major European languages; the High Definition picture is superb and the sound (PCM Stereo or Dolby Digital 5.1) matches it. There is some strong DVD competition, but this really is one of a kind.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
Gjeilo: Sunrise Mass / Jordan, Westminster Williamson Voices
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REVIEW:
Norwegian New Yorker Aja Gjeilo's music is thoroughly tonal. He seems to specialize in church music, with quotations in this mass from Duruflé and Mendelssohn. Texts by Hildegard von Bingen are rewritten and freely orchestrated. The others are by the composer. Harmony is clean and conservative, with occasional surprises in the voiceleading. For the most part, this is lovely and very beautiful. There is nothing here that could not be sung by well-schooled amateur choir singers. In fact, choral aficionados will surely enjoy this.
– American Record Guide (Allen Gimbel)
Troubled Water - Organ Music From The Film

This beautifully played and expertly engineered program, recorded at Norway's Bergen Cathedral, just may be one organ disc that nearly everyone can enjoy and will even return to often. It also may encourage listeners to investigate the film for which the music was chosen--an award-winning 2008 release from director Erik Poppe titled deUSYNLIGE (translated as "Troubled Water"). It's the story of a man just released from prison for the murder of a child, who returns to his former home town and takes the job as, of all things, a church organist. Complexities, conflicts, and confrontations of life and love follow, and along the way we hear the organ music as, in the words of the director, one of the film's "main characters."
Given the film's title you won't be surprised to learn that a significant place in the proceedings is claimed by Simon and Garfunkel's hit song "Bridge over troubled water", and we hear it twice--at the disc's beginning and end--in shorter and "extended" versions arranged by organist Iver Kleive. Kleive is a sensitive interpreter and a supremely accomplished artist who convinces us through his very respectful treatment that this quasi-religious, gospel-tinged anthem could have--or should have--been conceived for the magnificent resources of a cathedral organ, where the fullness of its soul-stirring power can truly be realized. Indeed, the longer, seven-minute version that concludes the disc could give a new generation of listeners incentive to "turn it up" and lose yourself in the sheer all-encompassing sensation of sound and harmony.
All of which owes much to the engineering, which really does literally demand that you turn your volume knob a few notches higher than usual--and you will be rewarded, as the organ really does surround you (with or without an SACD system) and shake you. And speaking of shaking listeners: Kleive's own Toccata is a tour de force that not only exploits the organ's orchestra-sized resources (and is uncannily reminiscent of the similarly-named movement from Widor's Symphony No. 5), but also, as in many of the big works of Bach, keeps you near-breathless, on the edge of your seat through an ever-building display of relentlessly exploding fireworks.
The program also features Kleive's arrangement and improvisation on Hassler's Velt alle dine veie (the tune known to many listeners as "O sacred head now wounded"), Vivaldi's Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro, and Kleive's very affecting and remarkably unadorned setting of "O bli hos meg", better known to English church-goers as "Abide with me". Although we could complain that at a mere 37 minutes this disc is temporally, programmatically challenged, the consistent high quality of the content--including Kleive's masterful, conscientiously understated exhibition of the organ's capabilities as well as his own formidable facility--and the ravishing sound make any such concerns irrelevant, and make this both a disc to savor and to share. Highly recommended!
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
Journey To The New World - Duarte, Niles, Etc / Sharon Isbin, Joan Baez, Mark O'connor
- Anne Midgette, The New York Times
"Sharon's exquisite playing allowed me to revisit and fall in love with these songs all over again."
- Joan Baez
"The beauty and range of Sharon's guitar creates the perfect musical setting and imagery. America and the guitar have become inseparable in their musical manifestations, and Sharon's performance on this recording expresses these connections as richly as you will ever hear."
- Mark O'Connor
"Sharon's Journey to the New World is an exquisite listening experience that abounds with dynamics, rich tonal colors, mastery, and control—a warm place for the inner ear to dwell and swoon."
- Steve Vai
"Sharon Isbin's superbly lyrical playing endows these folksongs from the British Isles and North America with poetic beauty and enchanting intensity. The singing of Joan Baez is as sweetly evocative as ever."
- Graham Wade
Revueltas: Redes / Gil-Ordonez, Post-Classical Ensemble
Silvestre Revueltas’ score for the 1935 film Redes (“Nets”) remains one of his greatest works, full of captivating rhythms, vivid instrumental color, and characteristic melodic inspiration. It is splendidly performed here by the PostClassical Ensemble conducted by Angel Gil-Ordóñez, newly synchronized to a lovely restored version of the original film. The movie itself isn’t much. Although cinematographer Paul Strand’s work is gorgeous as visual art, the story is a leftist morality play at its most primitive.
Villagers in small Mexican fishing community vainly struggle against the evil rich guy (complete with waxed mustache). At the start, the poor fisherman Miro begs for money to take his sick son to the hospital. Evil rich guy refuses. The child dies and is buried in a lavishly decorated coffin that makes one wonder why they didn’t invest the funeral funds in medical care in the first place. The grieving dad organizes the villagers and they go fishing, determined to resist the exploitation of the town’s wealthy business class. They catch fish. As they return with their catch there’s a rumble with the rich guy’s team. Soldiers are called in and the villagers flee, but Miro gets shot in the scuffle. He nobly ignores the pain, but dies anyway. End of story.
The entire film takes about an hour. There are fabulous shots of the Mexican seaside, lots of macho posing, and of course, fishing sequences. Thrilling it is not, but Revueltas’ score is sensational. Not being terribly into visuals, I would hope that Naxos will release a complete soundtrack album. The music is certainly worth hearing beyond the already familiar suite. Indeed, the film is scored almost throughout. Dialogue is minimal. For the last fifteen minutes or so in this new version the dialogue had to be abandoned in favor of the new soundtrack’s continuous music (English subtitles remain). If you want to hear the (few) spoken bits, the original film with its original soundtrack is thoughtfully included.
You also get several bonus features: discussions of Revueltas, his work in film, his politics, and the music, all produced by PostClassical Ensemble Executive Director Joseph Horowitz. I didn’t watch these, as I general ignore all such things. As a matter of principal, I believe that musical works stand or fall on their own merits, as entertainment, and nothing bores me more than being preached at or having the pleasure of listening turned into an academic symposium. I do recognize, however, that there is a time and place for such things, and other listeners/viewers may feel very differently. To see how Revueltas’ music enhances this visually beautiful film is worth experiencing just for itself, and requires no special pleading.
– ClassicsToday (David Hurwitz)
MOMENT TO MOMENT
BENNY GOODMAN HITS COLLECTION VOL. 1 1931-38
BREMEN 1965