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SaleDohnányi: Complete Music for Cello and Piano / Danzi, Rapetti
Brilliant Classics · Sep 2021CD$13.99$10.99 -
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Rheinberger: Motets, Masses & Hymns / Patterson, Gloriae dei Cantores
Gloriae Dei Cantores · Mar 2011CD$18.99 -
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Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No. 5 - Ravel: Piano Concerto in
Idil Biret Archive · Sep 2009CD$14.99 -
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Jadin: Sonatas for Piano with Violin
According to Marek Toporowski, the French composer Hyacinthe Jadin (1776–1800) authored ‘the greatest masterpieces of the French literature for the fortepiano from the time of the Revolution.’ Despite dying in poverty from tuberculosis at the age of 25, Jadin accomplished much in his brief life, composing both orchestral and chamber music with a bias towards his own instrument, the piano. This includes concertos and the sonatas featured in this collection, which also offer an optional violin accompaniment. Although several published collections have not survived or been recovered, including a further 12 sonatas for the keyboard.
In a previous album on Brilliant Classics, Toporowski produced a definitive modern recording of Jadin’s Sonatas Opp. 4-6 (96958). In the present collection, he presents Opp. 1 and 3, along with Jadin’s trio of Op.1 string quartets in the composer’s own arrangement for piano and violin. Toporowski finds a pre-Romantic sensibility in this music, with tantalizing anticipations of Schubert, Weber, and even Mendelssohn in Jadin’s heightened language of expression, which ventures far beyond the conventional forms of his contemporaries.
An important point of reference for Jadin was nonetheless the music of Haydn. The Op.1 String Quartets, as played here in the composer’s transcription, are dedicated to Haydn and contain very obvious references to this composer’s style, particularly to his refined modulations. Jadin was also active in Paris while Jan Ladislav Dussek was living in the French capital. As a later co-creator of the London school of piano playing, Dussek seems also to have had a great influence on the young virtuoso. There are salient points of comparison between these sonatas, whether played solo on piano or with their optional violin part, and with the sonatas for the same forces written by Dussek and recently recorded for Brilliant Classics by Petra Somlai, Julia Huber, and Miriam Altmann.
Jadin’s music has never previously been documented in so comprehensive and stylish a manner as in this evolving series from Marek Toporowski, and the quartets receive their first recording in this arrangement, which will appeal to all collectors of Classical-era curios.
BEETHOVEN: SONATAS FOR CELLO AND PIANO
Schumann: Piano Works, Vol. 2
COMPLETE WARNER CLASSICS RECORDINGS - NEW HD
Molino: Complete Guitar Sonatas
Ries: 3 Violin Sonatas / Grossman, Kagan
Ferdinand Ries was Beethoven’s student, close friend and biographer, but until quite recently was very much one of those composers living in the shadow of his Bonn master, rather than as the gifted and prolific composer he in fact was.
American pianist, author and educator Susan Kagan has explored the music of those composers associated with Beethoven and his musical scene. In fact she has researched the music of Archduke Rudolph – Beethoven’s composition student for more than twenty years – for her Ph.D. This was subsequently published by Pendragon Press back in 1988. More recently she has almost single-handedly championed the cause of Ries’s piano music, with five CDs of his Sonatas and Sonatinas on the Naxos label.
Kagan explains: ‘Ries studied piano with Beethoven (both were natives of Bonn, Germany) and was entrusted by him with such work as making transcriptions and piano arrangements, and copying orchestral parts of Beethoven’s new works. Ries moved to England in 1813, married an Englishwoman, and had a successful career touring as a virtuoso concert pianist. At the same time he was composing prodigiously and virtually everything he wrote was published. His thorough knowledge of Beethoven’s music undoubtedly helped shape Ries’s style, but his piano sonatas, from 1809 on, show an adventurous turn toward an expressive keyboard style anticipating that of the first generation of Romantic piano composers – Mendelssohn, Chopin, and Schumann. His gift for melody is like Schubert’s, and he is ever inventive in creating and developing beautiful themes. While his symphonies and concertos are ‘public’ works, intended for large audiences and concert halls, the piano sonatas are his most personally-expressive works, revealing an individual outlook on a genre of music cultivated by that great triumvirate of the Classical period – Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven.’
Ries also composed eighteen violin sonatas, which were brought out by Bonn music-publisher, Simrock, who also published much of Beethoven’s music. On this latest release from Naxos, Kagan is joined by violinist and fellow-American Eric Grossman, in an exploration of three of Ries’s violin sonatas, two from his op. 8 set, and his op. 19, all world-première recordings. However, unlike the piano sonatas, which have been released as part of a series of volumes, by starting here with a well-chosen selection from the eighteen extant examples, it gives the record company the option of releasing further violin sonatas in the future, or just letting this present single CD speak on behalf of the other fifteen.
It is interesting that the opening movements of the Sonata in F, Op. 8 No. 1, recorded first, and the Sonata in C minor, Op. 8 No. 2 that follows, have more than just a passing acquaintance with movements by Beethoven himself. While the latter first movement is very reminiscent of the corresponding movement from Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in the same key, Op. 10 No. 3, the F major Sonata opens in a pastoral vein, with a main theme which immediately hints at Beethoven’s ‘Spring’ Sonata for violin and piano in the same key. Rather than reinforcing the idea that Ries is merely mimicking his teacher – what follows, in both of Ries’s sonatas, after the initial ‘homage to Ludwig’, really does confirm that the younger composer has an individual voice, and subsequently embarks on quite a different musical journey from his master.
Of the violin sonatas as a whole, Kagan continues: ‘(They) are models of the Viennese Classical sonata style established by Mozart: most are in three movements, with first movements in sonata-allegro form, lyrical slow movements in ternary (ABA) form, and rondo finales. Like Mozart, Ries divides the material to provide equal interest for both instruments.’ The Sonata in F largely adheres to this pattern, though is, in fact, a four-movement work, with a sprightly Scherzo and Trio in the tonic minor (F minor) following the opening ‘Allegro ma non troppo’, before a conventional, though short slow movement, leads to the finale, with its essentially rustic theme. However, this soon contrasts with the central episode, where staccato triplets evolve into a vigorous fugato section (like a fugue, but not fully played-out), and something which, according to Kagan in her compact, yet succinct and informative sleeve-notes, is an unusual event in Ries’s music, where polyphonic writing is ‘generally avoided’.
The characteristic dotted rhythms and robust dynamics of the ‘Allegro con spirito’ that open the Sonata in C minor, imbue it initially with an almost martial character, but this soon turns lyrical, in which vein the ensuing ‘Adagio cantabile’ slow movement continues, and which also then acts as the perfect aperitif to the lightness of the closing rondo, with its staccato texture and preponderance of rapid repeated notes.
The so-named Grande Sonata in F minor, while the shortest of the three works on the CD, is nevertheless conceived in large scale, both with regards structure and content, and with its key, and the dramatic insistence of the opening movement’s main theme, link it in character to Beethoven’s ‘Appassionata’ piano sonata, written some five years earlier. Unlike Beethoven’s work, Ries’s sonata begins with a short and poignant ‘Largo espressivo’ introduction – not unlike the opening of Beethoven’s earlier ‘Pathétique’ sonata, but providing nowhere near as dramatic a lead-in. Ries maintains the feverish mood of the ‘Allegro agitato’ throughout, despite the occasional sections away from the over-arching minor tonality, and the movement’s calmly-understated close. The following slow movement, in a gentle triple measure, and in the relative major key (A flat major), has a simple charm and eloquence that makes it extremely endearing and pleasing on the ear, but with sufficient contrast within, to hold the listener’s attention throughout. The overall playful mood of the final rondo also has more than enough variety, both rhythmically and melodically in its main theme and episodes, to sustain it, with some real fireworks in the central episode. The music has a decidedly Schubertian feel, both thematically, and in Ries’s use of tonality, where more remote keys figure, and there is often a characteristic shift from major to minor and back. Yet again Ries chooses to finish like a lamb, rather than a lion – something Beethoven does in the opening movement of his ‘Appassionata’, but not in the work’s tumultuous and clattering coda to the finale.
Whichever way you look at this latest Ries CD from Naxos, you will surely not be disappointed. The playing, positioning and recording are first-rate, and the three pieces recorded are charming, entertaining and with a good feel for motivic development. Whether they form part of a more extended investigation into the composer’s repertoire for violin and piano, or remain just a one-off sampler, at the bargain price offered, they are simply too good to miss.
– Philip R Buttall, MusicWeb International
Complete works for viola, Vol. 2
Dohnányi: Complete Music for Cello and Piano / Danzi, Rapetti
“I could not have written it better myself!”, remarked an astonished Brahms on hearing the 18-year-old Erno Dohnányi’s Opus 1 (the First Piano Quintet) in the summer of 1895. Often hypercritical and disparaging of other composers, Brahms was so impressed by Dohnányi that he promoted his music in Vienna. Just two years later the elder composer passed away, but he might have remarked similarly about Dohnaìny’s Cello Sonata in B flat of 1899. This magnificent composition sounds undeniably like an affectionate homage to him. In 1902, Dohnányi performed the Cello Sonata in Frankfurt with Hugo Becker, one of the most famous cellists and pedagogues of his time, and a few years later Becker would be the dedicatee of Dohnányi’s Konzertstück in D Op. 12 for cello and orchestra, which the composer also arranged for cello and piano. Dohnányi and his friend Béla Bartók, three years his junior, always admired each other, though they could not have differed more in terms of style and character, their diametrically opposed approaches particularly apparent in their use of Hungarian folksongs. By contrast to Bartók’s innovative ethnomusicological perspective, Dohnányi continued presenting gypsy melodies in the Romantic fashion of Liszt and Brahms, as evidenced in his Ruralia Hungarica Op. 32, a cycle of seven pieces scored for various forces, one of them (Op.32d) being for cello and piano.
REVIEW:
Ernst von Dohnanyi (1877-1960) was a fine Hungarian composer, beloved by Brahms and Bartok and cellist Hugo Becker, to whom he dedicated the 25-minute Konzertstück, Op. 12. That was originally for cello and orchestra, which explains why the piano takes off on its own so much. It is effective. Ruralia Hungarica consists of pieces for everything except the kitchen sink, but only this 6-minute piece is actually for cello and piano. Both artists work together well and are recorded with warmth. This is the only place to find the Konzertstück played with piano.
-- American Record Guide (David W. Moore)
SCHUBERT
D'Albert: Symphony in F / Markl, MDR SO
D’ALBERT Tiefland: Symphonic Prologue. Symphony in F, Op. 4 • Jun Märkl, cond; MDR Leipzig RSO • NAXOS 8.572805 (62:40)
A recording of Eugen d’Albert’s early Symphony in F Major appeared on CPO three years ago and was reviewed by James A. Altena in 33:6. That version was conducted by Herman Bäumer leading the Osnabrücker Symphony Orchestra. D’Albert’s life story is reasonably well known, so it needn’t be recapped at length. In short, he was born in Glasgow, studied in London, and at 17 won a scholarship to study in Austria. There he was so taken with Austro-German music and culture that he repudiated his English training as worthless and from that day forward considered himself a right and proper German. He studied with Liszt, met Brahms, and built a career as one of the foremost piano virtuosos of his day. Between 1904 and 1905, d’Albert toured the U.S., and in 1907 succeeded Joseph Joachim as director of Berlin’s Hochschulefür Musik. D’Albert counted among his circle of associates and friends, Richard Strauss, who dedicated his Burleske to him, Hans Pfitzner, Engelbert Humperdinck, and Ignatz Waghalter (see the interview with Irmina Trynkos in 36:3). D’Albert’s personal life was a bit of a mess. Like Henry VIII, he married and divorced six times, though as far as we know, all of d’Albert’s wives kept their heads. When connubial contentment eluded him, he comforted himself in the arms of a mistress. His love of Germany and all things German must have soured when the First World War broke out, for in 1914, he moved to Zurich and became a Swiss citizen. He died, however, in Riga, Latvia, where he’d traveled to secure a divorce from his sixth wife.
Little by little d’Albert’s interest in composing began to overtake his career as a pianist. His output is not insignificant. It includes 21 operas, of which the seventh, Tiefland , first staged in 1903, was a major success, playing in houses around the world. It still holds the boards today, though mainly in Austria and Germany. Other works include a Cello Concerto, two piano concertos (available on Volume 9 of Hyperion’s “Romantic Piano Concerto” series), a couple of string quartets, an overture to Grillparzer’s Esther , a Piano Sonata, a handful of solo piano pieces, and lots and lots of songs.
Note: d’Albert composed the overture to Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience in 1881, just prior to his departure for Austria. Except for the cello concerto, the two piano concertos, the symphony on this disc, and his opera, Tiefland , plus several recordings of excerpts therefrom, not a lot else by d’Albert has found its way onto disc.
Another note: if you’re searching ArkivMusic for d’Albert, you’ll find him listed under the letter “A,” as Albert, Eugène d’—odd, since the site lists D’Indy as D’Indy, Vincent. Maybe it has something to do with the lowercase “d” vs. the uppercase “D.” Amazon and the Fanfare Archive put d’Albert under “D,” but the Archive purges the apostrophe, giving his name as dAlbert. How many ways can you spell “dog?” How about “dawg?”
I concur in the opinion of others that d’Albert’s compositional strength lies mainly in his mastery of the craft; his thematic ideas lend themselves well to development and he knows his way around the orchestra. I find it a bit more difficult, however, to concur with colleague Altena that Brahms and Schumann are ever-present in d’Albert’s 1886 symphony. If you’ve not heard the piece before, my guess is you would find its soundscape rather generic, as if fashioned from some factory-made, synthetic, wash-and-wear fabric. The garment fits the style of the day, but the pants are somehow baggy and nondescript. Granted, d’Albert was only 22 when he composed his one and only symphony, but attractive as it is in the moment, it’s not the sort of work whose melodies or other features linger.
If the opening strains of the Symphonic Prologue to Tiefland recall the opening of the Scène aux champs movement from Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique , it’s with good reason. D’Albert is painting a similar pastoral scene in which two shepherds are heard calling to each other on their pipes. Following that, the music seems to meander along a path on which it first meets, greets, and passes Wagner, only to encounter Debussy around the next bend walking his poodles, Pelléas et Mélisande . I confess to never having heard d’Albert’s opera, Tiefland , but if the rest of it is anything like the Prologue, I can understand the work’s success; it’s actually quite alluring, more so I would say than the symphony. But then the symphony is one of the composer’s earliest orchestral efforts—only the Piano Concerto No. 1 of 1884 predates it—whereas Tiefland came after d’Albert’s self-styled conversion to German-hood, and is a mature work by a composer already seasoned in writing for the stage by six previous operas.
I’m unfortunately not familiar with the CPO recording Altena reviewed, but this current release by Jun Märkl and the MDR Leipzig Radio Symphony Orchestra strikes me as eminently satisfactory. Playing and recording are both topnotch, and if you’re not acquainted with d’Albert’s music, this disc, at Naxos’s budget price, is an excellent way to gain some familiarity with it—enough, at least, to know whether you might care to explore further. On those grounds, recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
C. Schumann: Early Piano Works / Tirino
Bach: Sonate e partite per il flauto traversiere
Rheinberger: Motets, Masses & Hymns / Patterson, Gloriae dei Cantores
RHEINBERGER 3 Motets, op. 133. Mass in F for Male Choir and Organ, op. 190. Hymn, op. 140. Mass in g for Female Choir and Organ, op. 187. Mass in E?, “Cantus Missae,” op. 109 • Elizabeth C. Patterson, cond; David Chalmers (org); Gloriæ Dei Cantores • GLORIÆ DEI CANTORES 121 (74:05 Text and Translation)
This is a retread. Recorded in 1994, it was previously reviewed by John Bauman in 2000 in Fanfare 23:6. What I can’t be sure of is whether or not the original has been remastered, for in Bauman’s headnote it carried a label number of 108 and in its current reincarnation Gloriæ Dei Cantores has renumbered it 121. The discrepancy is significant inasmuch as Bauman complained in his review of engineering that damaged the music, noting a distant perspective that lacked full bass. Since I don’t have the earlier release to compare with the one at hand and, indeed, never heard it, I can only comment on the disc before me. Having listened to it, I’ll venture that nothing has been done to correct or compensate for Bauman’s impression of the recorded sound, for the singers do in fact come at the ear as if from some distant aural space. The effect is compounded, in my opinion, by a kind of churchy acoustic, which is strange, given that the recording was not made in a church but in the splendid acoustic venue of Mechanics Hall in Worcester, Massachusetts.
Besides panning the recording, Bauman expressed little love or patience for Rheinberger’s music, dismissing these works in a few pithy, if amusing, words worth quoting: “Perhaps Rheinberger’s writing reflects the late-19th-century calm of the Catholic Mass that favors the lack of big, almost explosive outbursts. It makes one want to throw the whole of his sacred writing out. Even with the organ, the Masses just seem to go on forever. They last just over 20 minutes, which is really a very short time compared to the Masses of Haydn, Mozart, and Schubert. All of these three Masses are thus afflicted, as well as the short motets and hymns. In short this is well-crafted music that ultimately brings about a big ho-hum. The performances seem to be good but one—at least this listener—just doesn’t care.”
I tend to be more charitable toward Rheinberger, allowing for the fact that even in his own lifetime (1839–1901) he was probably more sought-after as a prominent professor of organ and composition than he was recognized as a great composer. His roll call of students at the conservatory in Munich was long and impressive; it included Humperdinck, Wolf-Ferrari, Horatio Parker, George Chadwick, Henry Holden Huss, and Wilhelm Furtwängler, among others. And though his methods were stern and pedantic, apparently he was beloved by all who came under his wing.
From an entry in the February 1902 issue of Etude Magazine , we get some insight into Rheinberger’s MO from a J. W. Nicholl who had studied organ under him. “At a technical blunder the professor would frown, and if later in the lesson the same mistake occurred he would expostulate. Once, from nervousness or perhaps lack of sufficient preparation, a student made the same mistake three times during the playing of a Rheinberger sonata, the result was that the lesson came to a violent stop, and the unfortunate student left the Conservatorium in a very unenviable state of mind.” Lest you think this shows an impatient and ill-tempered tutor, I think it shows quite the opposite. I’ve known teachers who wouldn’t suffer a student the same mistake twice, let alone three times.
As the opus numbers in the headnote indicate, Rheinberger was nothing if not prolific, churning out a large volume of organ music, as well as numerous Masses, motets, and other sacred vocal works. But he also produced many secular songs and ballads, some chamber music, at least two symphonies I know of, and two or three operas. I can’t say I’ve ever heard an opera by Rheinberger, but I do have a recording of his Symphony No. 2 in F Major with Alun Francis leading the Northwest German Philharmonic on the Carus label, and a two-disc set on MDG of his complete piano trios with the Parnassus Trio, and I find them quite to my liking.
Rheinberger’s style tends to confound expectations for a German-Romantic composer who was almost exactly contemporaneous with Brahms and who couldn’t have escaped the lingering malodor that hung over Munich following the real-life opera starring Wagner, Cosima, von Bülow, Liszt, and King Ludwig.
The works on this disc have very little in common with Brahms’s sacred motets. Rheinberger’s music is not nearly as contrapuntal—the voices move mainly together in harmonic, chorale-style blocks—and it’s regular in its progressions, consonant, and sweet. One writer has suggested that rather than regarding Rheinberger as a lesser Brahms, we should think of him as a “South German Fauré.” That analogy may apply to Rheinberger’s chamber music—there’s definitely a bit of a French accent in his piano trios—but I don’t think it holds up in these Masses. When I think of Fauré and sacred vocal music, I think of his Requiem, and these pieces are nothing like that. They’re of a much more staid and devotional character. If I had to compare them to anything, I’d say they’re a bit reminiscent of some of the sacred vocal works by Bruckner.
Bottom line: I’m not bothered, as Bauman was, by the distant perspective and churchy acoustic. In fact, for me, it tends to enhance the ethereal quality of the music. I can see how one might become bored by more than an hour’s worth of this stuff, which pretty much all sounds alike, but I find it calming, comforting, consoling, and peaceful, much in the way I find a good deal of 16th-century Renaissance vocal polyphony to be. So, on that note, I’m going to recommend this disc with the stipulation that I’ve described the music to you and told you what you can expect.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
V 15: WELTE MIGNON MYSTERY (MA
Schenck: The Nymphs Of The Rhine Vol 1 / Les Voix Humaines
What's a critic supposed to do? The last thing you want is to go around just handing out top ratings, but what choice do you have when you hear a disc such as this one? On the surface it's got very little going for it--obscure repertoire, esoteric instruments, and it's chamber music to boot! And for the whole disc, all you hear is two solo bass violas da gamba--no orchestra, no keyboard, no exotic winds or percussion. But I'm willing to bet that if you hear this, if you have even the remotest appreciation for beautiful melody, for the richly-colored, reedy sonority of ideally matched stringed instruments, and a fascination with the essence of chamber music--a real dialogue between players--you will be pleased and happily surprised. It's not Bach or Marais, and it's not masterpiece-caliber music, but these six sonatas by 17th-century Dutch-born composer Johannes Schenck (1660-c. 1712) show an unusually accomplished facility for dramatic, interactive part-writing as well as a thorough command of the gamba's technical limits and possibilities. Schenck was a virtuoso player himself (he was one of the many stars at the Düsseldorf court from about 1696 until his death), and the two performers on this recording, members of the Quebec-based Les Voix Humaines, not only grasp the music's considerable technical demands, but fully embrace its more or less free-flowing style, weaving and tossing and shaping their lines, playing with and against each other in a spirited, sometimes improvisatory-like conversation. Le Nymphe di Rheno (The Nymphs of the Rhine) is the title of Schenck's Op. 8 collection of 12 sonatas of which half are presented on this Volume 1. I'm actually looking forward to more of this music from these very fine musicians on Volume 2. And the full-bodied sound makes the whole thing just about perfect. --David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
The Berlin Concert
Chopin / Ivo Pogorelich
Ivo Pogorelich has a special relationship with the piano music of the Polish Romantic composer Frédéric Chopin. It is Chopin, after all, whom he has to thank for his international breakthrough. When, at the age of 22, Pogorelich took part in the 1980 Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw, his exceptional playing caused an immediate sensation. Martha Argerich, who was on the jury, described him as a “genius”. Since that time, Pogorelich has been increasingly committed, on recording and in concert, to an image of Chopin that is far from the commonplace cliché of the brilliant and pleasing composer of salon music. Now Pogorelich once again offers completely new insights into Chopin’s world and the soul within the sound in what is in fact his fifth Chopin album, but the first for more than twenty years. He has selected works from the 1840s, the last decade of the Polish master’s life. These include the Nocturnes op. 48 no. 1 and op. 62 no. 2, the Fantasy op. 49 and Chopin’s third and last Piano Sonata, op. 58.
What Pogorelich admires in these works is Chopin’s ability to make the piano a gateway to the soul: “Chopin delivers an open invitation to penetrate human psychology. It’s a specific invitation to continually seek out and explore every possibility that the piano has to offer. That’s a never-ending process, and it will continue to challenge new generations of artists in the future too.”
The Croatian-born pianist traces a path in this recital that starts with the small form, continues by way of the brilliant Fantasy and finally reaches the large-scale, four-movement sonata form. In Pogorelich’s hands, despite their magical lyricism, the two Nocturnes have a gripping sense of tension and drama. The Fantasy in F minor, op. 49 is marked by a sombre mood of conflict, yet at the same time it reflects the improvisational skill for which Chopin was celebrated. With the Piano Sonata No. 3 in B minor, op. 58, the composer not merely bids farewell to this genre, with all its rich tradition. The work also demonstrates his efforts to create a new kind of sonata. And with Ivo Pogorelich this much-performed and popular piano work is transformed into an exciting new encounter with Frédéric Chopin.
REVIEW:
After a 20-year hiatus from the recording studio as regards Chopin, Croatian pianist Ivo Pogorelich (b. 1958) returns with an hour of deeply-thought, if eternally controversial, interpretations of some standard, late-Chopin repertory.
Pogorelich claims that “art is cruel,” that it often violently confronts our conventions and our complacency. Even if one does not subscribe to Antonin Artaud’s credo of art’s “theater of cruelty,” we must acknowledge that Pogorelich softens the blows with a wonderfully warm sonority and clarity of line.
If one is willing to concede that “depth of expression” compensates for or justifies hyperbolic slowness, then Pogorelich’s Fantasy in F Minor (1841) will appear a miracle of sustained intimacy, given its full three-minutes’ length beyond that of Claudio Arrau. The grim, martial opening will soon cede to national, Polish impulses in aristocratic contours, in mazurka and polonaise rhythms. Pogorelich becomes mesmerized by his own poetic filigree, so the musical thread loses a sense of dramatic continuity. Again, the luxury of the arpeggios and runs, high and low, mixed together with declamatory bass chords, proves haunting. In the middle section, Lento sostenuto, Pogorelich finds a drawn-out, poetic balance of improvisatory and ballade-like narrative. The last pages become a postlude or epilogue, very slow and deliberate, strumming their way into a vaporous coda.
Pogorelich’s way with Chopin last, published Nocturne in E (1846) feels better suited to his grand leisure: marked Lento, dolce sostenuto, the melodic line can bear the stretched, serpentine extension it receives, more like Berlioz than Chopin. The secondary theme in ascending, bass runs achieves C-sharp Minor and a series of syncopations that articulate Chopin’s advanced sense of polyphony. Pogorelich makes these rhythmic impulses more lyrical than their accustomed wont. We feel significantly alerted to Chopin’s trills and moving bass line, as the piece eventually assumes a modified rondo format. The music ends, or rather collapses, into the tonic and evaporates.
The last of Chopin’s three piano sonatas, this in B Minor (1844), receives the most improvisatory treatment in the program. The opening, Allegro maestoso, acquires a searching gravitas, alternately martial and nostalgic. Pogorelich milks the secondary theme in D, breaking its dreamy phrases to contrast with the quicksilver runs that provide a coda to the disparate fragments. That the movement ends in the tonic major seems artificial here, another spliced-on, poetic shard.
So far as improvisation occurs, the Scherzo: Molto vivace in E-flat Major from Pogorelich really proves the berries. He invests a liquid urgency into its eighth-note runs, while the chordal, B Major section projects reflective poise. Doubtless, all of Pogorelich’s slow tempos have been awaiting the B Major Largo movement, which now drags out a long, chain-link series of nocturnal thoughts in E Major. If the playing were not so intrinsically lyric, the progress would resemble a sweet dirge with tolling bells. The last movement, Finale: Presto non tanto, assuming the listener’s patience has endured, moves with a hard-won (after a lingering, high dominant 7th chord) gallop, a bit marcato for my taste, but at least moving with decisiveness, especially in the brilliant runs. The secondary theme in the relative B Major, hurls a sense of national pride at us, its left hand’s singing in the manner of a liberated etude. Pogorelich’s sonority gains the heroic high ground at last, thundering to a firm, B Major coda.
-- Audaud.com (Gary Lemco)
Festival - Classical Music in Switzerland
Traditionally, Switzerland has an important and impressive heritage regarding festivals for classical music, among them the famous Lucerne Festival, rooting back to the so-called "Concert de Gala" in the gardens of Richard Wagner's villa at Tribschen in 1938 conducted by Arturo Toscanini. This release features the fascinating variety and the many facets of the classical festival scene in Switzerland. The selection of the works takes the importance of big names and well known works into account, but also presents modern or even avant-garde approaches or less well known chamber music works.
The world’s leading orchestras, conductors and soloists, outstanding concert venues like the KKL Culture and Convention Centre by the renowned architect Jean Nouvel in Lucerne, a breathtaking landscape: there are many reasons for falling in love with the Swiss music festivals. The Swiss festivals now draw more than 500,000 classical music enthusiasts to the shores of Lake Lucerne or the Verbier mountains every year. And the numbers of visitors is growing from year to year. With this release, you will understand why.
CONTENTS:
DISC 1:
Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 37
Francesco Piemontesi, piano
Chamber Orchestra of Europe / Roger Norrington, conductor
Mozart: Symphony No. 39 in E-Flat Major, K. 543
Francesco Piemontesi, piano
Le Cercle de L'Harmonie / Jérémie Rhorer, conductor
DISC 2:
Mozart: Symphony No. 40 in G Minor, K. 550
Mozart: Symphony No. 41 in C Major, K. 551, "Jupiter"
Le Cercle de L'Harmonie / Jérémie Rhorer, conductor
DISC 3:
Elgar: Introduction and Allegro, Op. 47
Schumann Quartett
CHAARTS Chamber Artists
Felix Froschhammer, concert master
Kancheli: Chiaroscuro for Violin and Orchestra
Sebastian Bohren, violin
CHAARTS Chamber Artists
Andreas Fleck, conductor
Schumann:
Dein Angesicht, Op. 127 No. 2
Lehn' deine Wang' an meine Wang', Op. 142 No. 2
Es leuchtet meine Liebe, Op. 127 No. 3
Mein Wagen rollet langsam, Op. 142 No. 4
Ian Bostridge, tenor
Saskia Giorgini, piano
Ralph Vaughan Williams: On Wenlock Edge: V. Bredon Hill
Ian Bostridge, tenor
Casal Quartett
Purcell: The Fairy Queen, Z. 629: O Let Me Weep
Regula Mühlemann, soprano
Robin Müller, violin
CHAARTS Chamber Artists
DISC 4:
Brahms: Piano Trio No.1, Op. 8
Jonian-Ilias Kadesha, violin
Vashti Hunter, cello
Joonas Ahonen, piano
Blum: Luzerner Kreisel
Silke Gäng, mezzo-soprano
Oliwia Grabowska, piano
Gesualdo: Madrigals, Libro 6: II. Beltà poi che t'assenti
Davos Festival Kammerchor
Dalbavie: Palimpseste für Flöte, Klarinette, Violine, Viola, Violoncello und Klavier
Àgnes Vass, flute
Joonas Ahonen, piano
Dickkopf: Paris
Davos Festival Männerchor
DISC 5:
Beethoven: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 61
Lily Francis, violin
Festival Orchestra / Willem de Bordes, conductor
Enescu: Romanian Rhapsodies, Op. 11: No. 1 in A Major
Jonian-Ilias Kadesha, violin
Festival Orchestra / Daniel Bard, concert master
DISC 6:
Beethoven: Piano Trio No. 5 in D Major, Op. 70 No. 1 "Ghost"
Candida Thompson, violin
Xenia Jankovic, cello
Paolo Giacometti, piano
Enescu: Octet in C Major, Op. 7
Daniel Bard, violin
DISC 7:
Bach: Jesu, meine Freude, BWV 227
Britten: Hymn to St. Caecilia
Gabrieli Consort & Players
Paul McCreesh, conductor
DISC 8:
Mozart: Requiem in D Minor, K. 626
Elgar: They Are at Rest
Gabrieli Consort & Players
Paul McCreesh, conductor
DISC 9:
Haydn: Symphony No. 6 in D Major, Hob. I:6 "Le Matin"
CHAARTS Chamber Artists
Gregory Ahss, concert master
Sollima: Fecit Neap 17
Giovanni Sollima, cello
CHAARTS Chamber Artists
Gregory Ahss, concert master
Schönberg: Verklärte Nacht, Op. 4
Felix Froschhammer, violin
Gregory Ahss, violin
Lawrence Power, viola
Razvan Popovici, viola
Maximilian Hornung, cello
Andreas Fleck, cello
DISC 10:
Webern: Sechs Stücke für großes Orchester, Op. 6
Orchestra of the Lucerne Festival Academy / Susanna Mälkki, conductor
Neuwirth: Trurliade - Zone Zero
Victor Hanna, percussion
Orchestra of the Lucerne Festival Academy / Susanna Mälkki, conductor
Rihm: Gruss-Moment für Pierre Boulez
Ligeti: San Francisco Polyphony
Orchestra of the Lucerne Festival Academy / Matthias Pintscher, conductor
DISC 11:
Shostakovich: From Jewish Folk Poetry, Op. 79
Shostakovich: Cello Sonata in D Minor, Op 40
Rachmaninoff: Cello Sonata in G Minor, Op. 19
Bloch: From Jewish Life, IEB 6
Sol Gabetta, violin
Bertrand Chamayou, piano
DISC 12:
Mahler: Symphony No. 5
UBS Verbier Festival Orchestra / James Levine, conductor
DISC 13:
Bach: Concerto for 4 Keyboards in A Minor, BWV 1065
Martha Argerich, piano
Evgeny Kissin, piano
James Levine, piano
Mikhail Pletnev, piano
Haydn: Symphony No. 88 in G Major, Hob. I:88
Verbier Festival Chamber Orchestra / András Schiff, conductor
Rachmaninoff: Cello Sonata in G Minor, Op. 19
Lynn Harrell, cello
Yuja Wang, piano
Ysaye: Sonata for 2 Violins in A Minor, Op. posth.
Joshua Bell, violin
Leonidas Kavakos, violin
Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No. 5 - Ravel: Piano Concerto in
Final Thoughts: The Last Piano Works of Schubert & Brahms / Osorio
Jorge Federico Osorio, “an imaginative interpreter with a powerful technique (The New York Times), deftly pairs Brahms’s final solo piano works with those by Schubert for an inventive program of richly satisfying works that capture the essence of each composer’s towering individuality. Here, Osorio records Brahms’s Three Intermezzos, Op. 117, and Six Piano Pieces, Op 118, which he last recorded nearly two decades ago, to great acclaim: “Quite marvelous,” said BBC Music Magazine. “It’s clear that Jorge Federico Osorio is an important Brahmsian,” proclaimed the Chicago Tribune. On his new album, Osorio’s penchant for color accentuates the individual character of these concentrated miniatures. Osorio has also chosen to record Schubert’s final two Piano Sonatas, D. 959 and D. 960, epic in scale and brimming with melodic invention. His insights into the music’s architecture yield eloquent performances of these spacious, ambitious masterworks.
REVIEW:
A generous feast: All of Brahms’ last piano pieces bracketed in between Schubert’s last two sonatas, performed by a musicianly virtuoso, captured in intimately close yet amply robust sonics. Jorge Federico Osorio’s mastery beckons your attention. The Schubert D. 959 A major sonata’s sprawling first movement receives a fluid and intelligently nuanced reading, followed by an Andantino that assiduously builds up to and decompresses after its shattering central climax. The scherzo’s easy lilt and winsomely varied chord arpeggiations justify a more easygoing, less precipitous tempo than usual. While the Rondo finale doesn’t quite match Pollini’s winged poetry, one cannot ignore Osorio’s firm left-hand underpinning and clear voice leading.
At times his rhythmic inflections in the D. 960 B-flat sonata Molto moderato’s exposition pull focus from the narrative flow, yet these gestures still sound internalized and well considered. In contrast, Osorio unifies his expansive conception of the Andante sostenuto with a hypnotic, resolutely steady accompanying ostinato figure. The Scherzo is curvy and playful, as Osorio leaves you guessing as to which of the Trio’s off-beat bass notes he will accent. On the other hand, the left-hand syncopations in the Rondo’s second theme recede too much in the background, although once the tumultuous minor-key theme kicks in, Osorio’s poetic and dramatic powers decisively click into focus.
In the main, Osorio’s late Brahms charts a direct path that differs from Arcadi Volodos’ poetic ruminations. Compare, for example, Volodos’ discursive rendering of Op. 117 No. 1’s central episode alongside Osorio’s comparatively stronger rhythmic delineation of the same passage and you’ll hear what I mean. Still, Osorio offers illuminating rhetorical touches: notice his yearning hesitation on certain of Op. 119 No. 2’s upbeats, Op. 118 No. 4’s thoughtful contrapuntal interplay between the hands with barely a trace of pedal, the pinpointed control of Op. 116 No. 5’s short phrases, not to mention the strong tenor voice presence in Op. 116 No. 6. And his angular parsing of Op. 117 No. 3’s main theme underlines the music’s unsettled qualities that more than a few pianists too willingly flatten out. Even in a catalog crowded with excellent recordings of these works, Osorio’s cultured artistry offers much to savor over repeated hearings.
– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)
Solo Cello / Nina Kotova
Nina Kotova astounds listeners with this dazzling album for cello alone. “Solo Cello,” her third album for Delos, reveals her spectacular technique, heartfelt passion and profound comprehension of the extraordinary program she has chosen.
Along with a brilliant rendition of J. S. Bach’s C Major Suite for Solo Cello, the Baroque era is represented by Handel and Marin Marais, both with musical fireworks that leave the listener breathless. Works from the 20th century include Hindemith’s Sonata for Solo Cello (four of the five movements were written in one night!); Alfred Schnittke’s haunting tribute to a cellist, Klingende Buchstaben (Sounding Letters); and Gaspar Cassadó’s charming and challenging Suite per Violoncello Solo.
The repertoire for this album is a fascinating combination of well-known and little-known compositions for solo cello. The two transcriptions (of works by Marais and Handel) sound like they were written for solo cello.
REVIEW:
There is an attractive gutsiness to the tone of Nina Kotova’s cello playing...it is a beautiful sound but one with the tinge of a life lived to it. Her manner of playing is similarly unabashed. If anything, her passionate, unbridled playing steps up a gear in Hindemith’s bristling Cello Sonata. I have always downgraded Hindemith as a bit dry, one for the musicologists. Not a chance with Kotova’s feverish advocacy.
...I found the sound a real pleasure. With a lot of cello writing concentrated on the upper strings, it is nice to hear the depths of the instrument’s sound so ripely presented.
I have a suspicion that this recording reflects a regular concert programme of Kotova’s. The way the pieces work together has the feel of practical experience and, unlike many recital discs which hang together on account of a clever idea or theme, this one makes good musical sense and sends the listener home (so to speak) satisfied. This is the sound of a seasoned musical talent in her absolute prime playing with confidence, sensitivity and flair in carefully and imaginatively chosen repertoire that suits her musical personality perfectly. What more could a listener ask for?
-- MusicWeb International
