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SaleMison: The Five Sevillian Flute Sonatas / Ruibérriz de Torres
Brilliant Classics · Jul 2023CD$13.99$6.99 -
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Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No. 5 - Ravel: Piano Concerto in
Idil Biret Archive · Sep 2009CD$14.99 -
Barriere & De Bury: Sonates et suites pour le clavecin / Quintavalle
Brilliant Classics · Apr 2017CD$17.99 -
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Mozart: Sonata K 448; Schubert: Fantasia / Perahia, Lupu

Murray Perahia and Radu Lupu first teamed up on disc in 1984 with the Mozart D major sonata and Schubert Fantasia, setting benchmark standards for sharply honed and tonally cultivated piano ensemble playing. The gorgeous engineering gains warmth and amplitude in this new transfer for Sony's Masterworks Expanded Edition series. Likewise, the not-inconsiderable Mozart-Busoni and unhyphenated Mozart fillers yield sonic improvement. My list of all the wonderful things that transpire through the pianists' sublimely synchronized fingers, minds, and hearts would take longer to read than for you to listen to this disc all the way through.
Where do I start? The effortless, impeccably calibrated runs tossing back and forth in the Mozart sonata's first movement? The exquisitely scaled dynamics, acute harmonic and linear cogency, and split-second timing of transitions and phrase endings in the Schubert? Or the pianists' mutual sixth sense for divining perfect tempos? Two-piano mavens familiar with Busoni's retooling of the Mozart F minor Fantasia for Mechanical Organ will notice that Perahia and Lupu rightly restore passages from Mozart's original score that Busoni cut (notably in the finale). If you love the piano, you need this disc. [2/21/2004]
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com Reviewing Sony 93015
Schubert: Piano Sonatas No 2, 3, 6 / Gottlieb Wallisch
MOZART VIOLIN CONCERTOS NOS. 4 & 5 PLUS VIOLIN
Mison: The Five Sevillian Flute Sonatas / Ruibérriz de Torres
Recent scholarship on Luis Misón (Mataró, 1727–Madrid, 1766) demonstrates the growing interest among the musicological community in studying the life and work of one who is an essential composer in the history of Spanish music. Musical historiography has extolled Misón's contribution to the genre of the tonadilla escénica, a genre widely appreciated in his time and which must have had a notable influence on his instrumental music, about which less is known. His talent as a flautist was appreciated within the noble circle of the House of Alba, where musical academies were held in which Misón actively participated and for which he composed 12 sonatas for transverse flute and bass dedicated to the Duke of Alba. These pieces were located in the archives of the House of Alba and described in 1927 by José Subirá (1882–1980), but unfortunately they disappeared during the Spanish Civil War (1936–39). The discovery of the five hitherto unknown Sonatas for Flute and Bass by Misón represents a substantial contribution to the Spanish chamber music repertoire of the second third of the 18th century for this instrument, given the scarcity of pieces written by Hispanic composers contemporary to Misón in which the flute is definitely the real protagonist. Moreover, they are sonatas which, from a technical point of view, pose interesting challenges to the flautist, something that highlights Misón's mastery of the flute, in accordance with surviving documentation of the period.
Ortega explains that José Teixidor (c.1751–c.1811), vice-master of the Royal Chapel from 1778, considered his works to be no lesser than those of the best-known foreign composers and said of him that he was an unequalled performer on the transverse flute. The sonatas are found in five musical manuscripts preserved in the Lebrija Palace in Seville, a stately home dating from the 16th century, which in 1901 became the property of Regla Manjón y Mergelina (1851–1938), Countess of Lebrija. With regard to the sources, it seems unlikely that any of the five are autograph. (Although up to five different copyists have been identified, there is nothing to suggest that any of them could be Misón, himself.) Generally speaking, the sonatas are characterised by the importance of melody, regular phrases and steady rhythms, as can be seen in the elaborate seisillos of the Allegro moderato of the Sonata [No.3] in G major. Overall, the basso continuo line is simple – excepting the B section of the Allegro of the Sonata [No.4] in G major (undated) – allowing the role of the flute to stand out prominently. This recording is the culmination of a long process of recovery of Spanish 18th-century musical heritage that deserves to be disseminated, studied and enhanced. After more than two centuries of silence, Misón's music is heard again.
MOZART: RONDOS & SONATAS
Haydn: The Complete Piano Sonatas, Vol. 1 / Bavouzet
"Bavouzet’s Haydn is unmatched in its zest and its wit. But it is also substantial, informed and deeply rewarding."
--The New York Times on Bavouzet's Haydn Sonatas cycle, 2022
Jean-Efflam Bavouzet’s complete Debussy cycle was a big hit across the world in the 2000s, picking up numerous awards along its way. He has now decided to embark upon a Haydn cycle highlighting the fact that he should in no way be pigeon-holed as a ‘French’ specialist. Many leading pianists have tackled these virtuosic classical Sonatas but Bavouzet really feels he has something new to say.
The program for Volume 1 includes the experimental and ambitious Sonata in A flat No. 31, the elegantly virtuosic Sonata in D major No. 391, the expressive Sonata in B minor, No. 47 and the almost Schubertian Sonata in C sharp minor op. 49. Bavouzet shipped in a specially selected Yamaha piano for the recording which he feels give the sort of tonal quality he is looking for.
REVIEWS
We badly need a great Haydn sonata cycle on a modern instrument, and on evidence here Jean-Efflam Bavouzet's promises to be just the ticket. It's fabulous, as wonderful in its own way as was his Debussy cycle for this same label. His approach couldn't be more intelligent: he takes almost all repeats, except in such places as the slow movement of Sonata No. 31 in A-flat (already 24 minutes long), where he adds a fine cadenza of his own making. In quick movements, where final chords seem to render a second-half repeat redundant, he leaves them out the first time through, a practice that I have long believed ought to be standard in such cases. It works wonderfully well.
Interpretively, this is as good as it gets. Bavouzet ornaments repeats with complete naturalness, knows how to phrase a melody without distending the tempo unduly, and exploits the resources of the modern piano in a way that serves the music completely. His touch in such places as the finale of the B minor sonata (No. 47) is phenomenally articulate. In the first movement of No. 31 his right and left hands handle independent dynamics so as to create the same textural layers you might hear through different harpsichord registrations. The sonics are totally at one with the performances: brilliantly vivid, but never hard. I can't wait for Volume 2.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Brahms, Penderecki & Hindemith: Chamber Works
Busoni: Sonate per violino e pianoforte
Ferruccio Busoni (Empoli 1866 – Berlin 1924) died the same year as Puccini and was born when Puccini was a child, yet he was way more than an opera composer. While he lived several years in Trieste and some time in Bologna, he mainly lived abroad and spent the second half of his life in Berlin. Way more than a composer, he was a wide-ranging artist and musician, an acclaimed concert pianist and sought-after piano teacher, a learned reviser of piano music, and the author of many and varied pieces. Busoni was also an aesthete, an intellectual, a music reformer, and author of texts on musical topics. A child prodigy, he wrote the Symphonische Suite for orchestra at the age of 17.
Nicola Bignami and Lucija Majstorovic brilliantly face the arduous task of performing the two monumental and demanding sonatas for violin and piano that the composer wrote at twenty-four (first sonata) and at thirty-two (second sonata), in which the equal and dialogical relationship between the two instruments combines with a wealth of invention with respect for the great tradition.
Mozart: Piano Works, Vol. 2
Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No. 5 - Ravel: Piano Concerto in
Barriere & De Bury: Sonates et suites pour le clavecin / Quintavalle
This set of discs is quite interesting: it brings together two French composers from the first half of the 18th century who are little known. That is to say: Jean-Baptiste Barrière is fairly well known, but almost exclusively as a pioneer of the cello in France. It is remarkable that the two collections which Luca Quintavalle has recorded were published at about the same time, but are stylistically very different.
Barrière was from Bordeaux and worked in Paris in 1730 as Musicien ordinaire de notre Académie Royale de Musique. In 1733 he was granted a privilege to publish sonatas and other instrumental works. He studied for some time in Italy, but there are different opinions on exactly when he was there. It is not that relevant from a musical point of view, because right from the start the Italian influence in his compositions is clearly discernible. His first two books with six sonatas each were printed in Paris in 1733 and 1735 respectively; these were followed in 1739 and 1740 by the third and fourth book. These collections show an increase in technical complexity and the last two books attest to Barrière's full embracing of the Italian style.
In 1739 he also published a book - as Livre V - for the pardessus de viole, the descant viol. It comprises six sonatas, the first five of which were also included in the book of harpsichord music which was published in the same year. These are not merely transcriptions but reworkings for a completely different instrument, including additional ornamentation, elaboration and idiomatic runs. These sonatas follow the Corellian trio sonata model: they comprise four movements in the order slow - fast - slow - fast. Barrière added a sixth sonata in three movements: andante - largetto (sic) - aria amoroso.
Their Italian character not only comes to the fore in the use of the form of the sonata. In fact, Barrière was the first French composer to write sonatas for keyboard. A further Italian trait is that the movements have exclusively Italian titles: adagio, allegro, andante, grave, largo, aria. The only dance included here is a sarabanda in the Sonata No. 2 in D. However, the most important token of Italian influence is the music itself. There are Neapolitan influences, but also references to the music of Vivaldi and Domenico Scarlatti. Some movements are quite dramatic; one of the most notable examples is the adagio which opens the Sonata No. 4 in G.
Barrière's harpsichord sonatas have little to do with tradition. Only one part of the Sonates et pièces can be connected to the French harpsichord school. The six pièces are character pieces as we know them from the oeuvre of, for instance, François Couperin. However, stylistically they are much closer to such pieces by the likes of Forqueray and especially his contemporary Joseph Nicolas Pancrace Royer (1705 - 1755). In the preface to his Premier Livre de pièces pour clavecin of 1746 Royer stated that "[the] pieces are open to great variety, passing from the tender to the lively, from the simple to the tumultuous, often successively within the same piece". That is the case with Barrière's character pieces as well; some indeed can be counted among the 'tumultuous', such as La Casamajor.
It is remarkable that the harpsichord pieces of the younger Bernard de Bury are more conservative than Barrière's. Much more than in the pieces by the latter we notice François Couperin's influence. His Premier livre de pièces de clavecin which dates from around 1736 includes several pieces whose titles are identical or almost identical with titles in the four harpsichord books of Couperin.
Bury came from a musical family; his father was ordinaire de la musique du roi. He spent his entire life and career in Versailles. He took several positions at the court; as maître de chapelle he succeeded his teacher Colin de Blamont, to whom he dedicated his harpsichord book. In 1785 he was ennobled by Louis XVI, five months before his death. In addition to his harpsichord works he composed music for the stage which found a positive reception.
Despite some Italian traits in his harpsichord music - just like in Couperin's ordres - his keyboard music is very French. The book comprises four suites of different lengths which include almost exclusively character pieces. The only exception is the loure in the 3e Suite in G. The chaconne which closes the 4e Suite in E and the entire collection, is one of the most telling tokens of this book's being part of the French tradition: hardly an opera was written without a chaconne and virtually every suite for keyboard or for an instrumental ensemble included a chaconne. There is no watershed between dances and character pieces: several of the latter were written in the form of a dance, or perhaps we should say that dances were given titles to indicate an extra-musical meaning. In the 1e Suite in A, for instance, we find a sarabande with the title Les Regrets. A form which Bury frequently uses is the rondeau, which was becoming increasingly popular in France around the mid-18th century.
Bury's harpsichord works have been recorded before, but are hardly known; they also seldom appear on programmes of recitals. As far as I know only a couple of pieces from Barrière's collection are available on disc; this is probably the first complete recording. I find that rather surprising, considering their quality and their historical importance. That makes this set a significant addition to the discography. This repertoire is served very well by Luca Quintavalle who delivers energetic and stylish performances. The brilliance of Barrières pieces and the different features of Bury's harpsichord works is convincingly conveyed. He plays a splendid instrument: a copy of a harpsichord by Pierre Donzelague of 1711. The miking is just right: it reveals enough details without losing the overall picture.
There is just one issue I need to mention. There is too little space between the pieces: the first movement of a sonata or a suite follows the last movement of the previous work almost attacca. That is an unlucky negligence on the side of the production team.
Considering the importance of the repertoire and the quality of music and interpretation this production deserves the label of Recording of the Month.
– MusicWeb International (Johan van Veen)
Strauss, Respighi, & Ponce: Violin Sonatas
Saint-Saëns: Cello Sonatas no 1 & 2, etc / Kliegel, et al
SAINT-SAËNS Cello Sonatas: No. 1 in c; No. 2 in F. Suite for Cello and Piano • Maria Kliegel (vc); François-Joël Thiollier (pn) • NAXOS 8.557880 (77:32)
It has been previously noted that Saint-Saëns’s four major works for cello were composed more or less in tandem pairs. 1872–73 saw the twin births of the C-Minor Sonata, op. 32, and the A-Minor Concerto, op. 33. The composer was approaching 40 at the time; yet for a man who lived to 86, these may still be regarded as fairly early works. Not until nearly 30 years later did Saint-Saëns turn again to the cello, this time composing in reverse order the D-Minor Concerto, op. 119, in 1902, followed in 1905 by the Sonata in F Major, op. 123.
My only grumble about Jamie Walton’s Saint-Saëns CD (reviewed in 29:6) was that had he omitted “The Swan” movement from The Carnival of the Animals , there would have been just enough room on the disc to include the Second Sonata, thereby giving us all four of the composer’s major works for cello on a single disc. It turns out that in writing that review, I overlooked the even earlier, but hardly insignificant, 1862 Suite for Cello and Piano, op. 16, which, at 23 minutes’ duration, is even longer than the First Sonata and certainly qualifies as a “major” work.
With the current release, cellist Maria Kliegel and pianist François-Joël Thiollier fill in the blanks, offering us, along with the C-Minor Sonata, the earlier Suite and the later F-Major Sonata, both of which were absent from Walton’s entry. The juxtaposition of these works on the same disc affords us the opportunity to hear for ourselves the evolution, both professional and personal, of a man whose interior life may have been more complex than received opinion about him has otherwise led us to believe.
The five-movement Suite makes no pretense to a refracted antique or neo-Baroque style—as some of the composer’s early works do—despite note writer Keith Anderson’s assertion that its Prelude loosely resembles the arpeggio Praeludium of Bach’s G-Major Solo Cello Suite. Saint-Saëns’s Suite is an ardent, effusive romantic outpouring that has more in common with the young, though never youthful, Brahms than it has with anything from an earlier time.
The C-Minor Sonata, though coming 10 years after the Suite, is all surface Sturm und Drang somewhat reminiscent of Mendelssohn. It was works such as this that earned Saint-Saëns his reputation as an arch-conservative in thrall to German models and aesthetics.
The F-Major Sonata, written when he was 70, has clearly evolved away from the composer’s earlier, more immediately recognizable profile. Though still adhering to the principles of sonata form, the piece has about it a more through-composed feeling that is carried forward by a gorgeous rippling piano part rather in the manner of the composer’s own student, Fauré. More significant, however, is the genuine expressiveness and depth of the music, which clearly belie the notion that Saint-Saëns was but an extremely gifted tunesmith and facile craftsman with an uncanny instinct for writing music devoid of any meaningful substance.
Maria Kliegel can be heard in a wide range of repertoire that she has recorded for Naxos; with over 50 entries in their catalog, she is perhaps the company’s leading “stable” cellist, a term that unfortunately carries certain uncomplimentary connotations. Be assured that in Kliegel’s case they are not deserved, for she is a fantastic player with solid technique, spot-on intonation, and robust tone, which she projects with a great deal of confidence and authority. If her delivery is not quite as smooth and refined as that of the aforementioned Jamie Walton, my sense is that she wants us to perceive Saint-Saëns as both more serious and more substantive than he is often taken to be.
François-Joël Thiollier has also recorded extensively for Naxos, having made a specialty of the French piano repertoire. His partnering with Kliegel is a natural. For the excellent performances, fine sound, budget price, and smart programming, I’m inclined to call this disc indispensable for lovers of chamber music for cello and piano.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Beethoven: Final Piano Sonatas / Anton Kuerti
Gallo: 12 Trio Sonatas / Parnassi Musici
REVIEW:
Within the first few seconds of the first track--the Sonata No. 1 in G major--most listeners will find themselves in surprisingly familiar territory--surprising because this little-known 18th-century composer seems to have written a popular tune long attributed to Pergolesi, a misattribution given additional false credibility by its use in Stravinsky's Pulcinella. In fact Stravinsky used selections from several of Domenico Gallo's trio sonatas in his famous ballet music, thinking them to be works of Pergolesi because they were published under his name in late-19th century English editions.
Ultimately--other than the fact that it's always nice to set the record straight--the author of these expertly written and very appealing works for violins, cello, and harpsichord is not so important as what they offer to listeners and to performers. (For the record, even Gallo's authorship isn't absolutely certain for all 12 sonatas.)
As realized by these four excellent players and their well-matched period instruments, we can count on a steadfastly upbeat, uplifting hour and 10 minutes of first rate chamber music notable for its lovely, lively melodies and skillfully varied textures and harmonic settings. Gallo shows much of his best stuff in his slow movements--and so do the performers, who demonstrate their facility in bringing out the music's emotional core. Good examples are the slow movements of No. 2 in B-flat, No. 3 in C minor, and the very Bach-like No. 6 in D major for which, unfortunately, you'll have to do a little searching because each work is served by only one track number. Throughout, the playing is stylish and full of personality, buoyed by unfaltering technical confidence and assured ensemble interaction. The sound is intimate, warm, and resonant. It's not Bach; it's not even Pergolesi. But it's well worth a place in your CD collection, especially as this set contains pieces you won't find anywhere else. Perhaps Parnassi musici and/or other musicians will be motivated to explore and record the many other works by Gallo that remain unpublished and unperformed.
-- David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
Reger: Complete Sonatas for Unaccompanied Violin / Mathe
REGER Sonatas for Unaccompanied Violin, op. 91: No. 1 in a; No. 2 in D; No. 3 in B?; No. 4 in b; No. 5 in e; No. 6 in G; No. 7 in a • Ulrike-Anima Mathé (vn) • DORIAN 90915 (2 CDs: 115:44)
Having just reviewed a recording of Reger’s suites for solo viola with Tabea Zimmermann for the previous issue, I was pleased to receive this sumptuously reconstituted set from Dorian of the composer’s complete op. 91 sonatas for solo violin. Max Reger, it seems, is beginning to attract more mainstream attention and more of an audience than has heretofore been the case.
Reger’s seven sonatas for solo violin are important additions to the repertoire, and choice in recorded versions is extremely limited. Therefore, I do not wish to be too critical of this retread, which was originally (and still is) available as two separate discs. But I must get one thing out of the way right off the bat. Once upon a time, Dorian was roundly criticized for recordings with such excessive reverberation that they sounded like they’d been made in an echo chamber. The company apparently took the criticism to heart, for their releases that followed were significantly less echoey. Unfortunately, these not-new recordings, made in the Troy Savings Bank Music Hall in Troy, New York, in 1992 and 1994, come from a period during which Dorian’s engineers were pursuing their sinful ways. I’ve heard quite a few more recent recordings that emanate from this venue, so I can vouch for the fact that it’s a hall with superb acoustics that sound nothing like this. The impression one receives the instant Ulrike-Anima Mathé’s bow touches the strings is of a vast, cavernous space that makes her violin sound three times normal size and dimensionally distorted.
That being said, judgment of Mathé’s playing should not be based on what her makeup artists did to pump it up on steroids. She articulates Reger’s difficult double-stopping and string crossings cleanly and with exceptional incisiveness. Her left-hand work is equally deft, capable of delivering pitch-perfect intonation and invigorating velocity. And though it’s hard to judge her tone quality due to the souped-up sound, I suspect that it would be quite pleasing to hear in a normal setting.
Reger-phobia is unwarranted. Anyone who has ever read anything about Reger or had any exposure to his music knows that he was obsessive-compulsive when it came to writing fugues, and that he had a “thing” about Bach. That fixation, however, led to the creation of some fascinating and intellectually stimulating music. If you enjoy listening to Bach’s sonatas and partitas for unaccompanied violin, you are virtually guaranteed to enjoy Reger’s sonatas, for they are Bach revisited and reheard through 1905 ears.
The technical difficulties posed by Reger’s sonatas are similar to those posed by Bach’s works for unaccompanied violin. To produce the harmony and the effect of multiple voices engaged in contrapuntal interplay, it is necessary to notate miles of double- and triple-stops and awkward string crossings, something that is neither easy nor natural to play on an instrument better suited to producing a single-voiced melody. Thus, works of this type require a technical whiz of virtuoso caliber, but they are not virtuosic display pieces in the same way that Paganini’s, Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst’s, or Eugène Ysaÿe’s somewhat later works for solo violin are. Reger’s sonatas, however, are no more boring, academic exercises than are Bach’s sonatas and partitas. The initial appeal may be intellectual, but gradually the music grows on you and blossoms into something entirely satisfying on an emotional level.
At the time these recordings were made, Mathé showed every promise of being a rising star. I’m not quite sure what has happened to her since. I reviewed a cpo CD of Friedrich Kiel’s piano quartets in Fanfare 31:5 in which she played violin; but other than that, on record at least, it doesn’t appear that she’s been very active, which is too bad, because her playing here is exceptionally good. And, as mentioned above, recordings of Reger’s op. 91 complete are few and far between. The only other current listing I find is on Troubadisc with violinist Renate Eggebrecht-Kupsa. Her account of the sonatas may be very fine (she has way more recordings listed than does Mathé), but I haven’t heard it.
Reger’s sonatas need not appeal exclusively to listeners who have a special interest in music for solo violin. So, provisionally recommended, as long as you can adjust to the recorded sound. Otherwise, you might wish to explore Eggebrecht-Kupsa’s version, although it’s pricey. I suspect, though I don’t know for sure since it was not yet listed at the time of writing, that the Dorian set, being a repackaging job, may be sold as a twofer.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Schubert + Beethoven
Four Piano Sonatas
Bach - Gambensonaten / Stadtfeld, Vogler
BACH Sonatas for Viola da Gamba and Basso: in G, BWV 1027 ; in D, BWV 1028 ; in g, BWV 1029 . Chorale Preludes from the Orgelbüchlein: “Jesu meine Freude,” BWV 610; “Vom Himmel hoch,” BWV 606; “Gottes Sohn is kommen,” BWV 600; “In dir ist Freude,” BWV 615; “Der Tag, der ist so freudenreich,” BWV 605; “Herr Christ, der ein’ge Gottes Sohn,” BWV 601; “Vom Himmel kam der Engel Schar,” BWV 607; “Herr Gott, nun schleufz den Himmel auf,” BWV 617 • Jan Vogler (vc); Martin Stadtfeld (pn) • SONY 88697575192 (54:27)
The three sonatas for viola da gamba and basso composed by Johann Sebastian Bach probably during the last year or so he spent in Weimar are repertoire staples, both for early-music practitioners and for performers on modern instruments, such as the viola or the cello. As such they are almost required repertoire and there is a plethora of recordings, both on period instruments and modern, available in the catalog. This particular rendition introduces cellist Jan Vogler and pianist Martin Stadtfeld in another of those attempts to reenvision these venerable works in an unusual and perhaps even unique way. As the rather perfunctory booklet notes state: “Performing these three works on the cello and piano has long since become established as an alternative that combines knowledge of performing practice in Bach’s time with the striving for tonal expression that has analytical clarity [that] benefits the dialogue character of these sonatas.” All right, one supposes, as a generic goal, but it is clear that this particular recording seems more the result of a discussion between the two performers than one more attempt to find a unique reconfiguration of conventional and well-known pieces. Since the three works are short, the two chose a selection of chorale preludes from Bach’s Orgelbüchlein to fill out the disc. And of course, having these performed by the cello/piano duo presents another take on the short practical pieces that Bach attempted to write for the entire liturgical year (he only finalized 46 out of an intended 164 chorales). As they say, they were “taking up the challenge of reproducing on their instruments Bach’s compositional technique that varies between festive splendor and intimate melancholy.” I suppose that is enough to link these various pieces to the gamba sonatas, but to my ear they come off more like encores than the sort of experiment proposed.
I’ve always considered the gamba sonatas to be good if typical representatives of the early 17th-century German style. Two of the works are in the typical four-movement format, while the last, BWV 1029 in G Minor, reflects a more modern three-movement pattern typical of the Italian secular style just coming into vogue. Bach is quite adept at the intricate spinning out of his main themes in the fast movements, altering the motives just enough to provide interest and weaving the continuo and solo lines in subtle ways that avoid mechanical repetition. One hears echoes of the short didactic works from the Anna Magdalena Notebook in the second movement of the G Major, while the Andante of the D Major could have come straight out of a Vivaldi concerto. (It is interesting to note that around this time Bach was angling for another position at Cöthen and studying Vivaldi intensely.) The first movement of the G Minor could almost be a replacement for Brandenburg 6, with close thematic similarities abounding. In short, these are solidly composed and well worth having in one’s collection of Baroque chamber music.
The issue that surrounds this disc is really that it is yet another recording on modern instruments, when so many fine examples of the works on period instruments can be found. I don’t propose to reopen what has to be a real can of worms here, but let me state right out that while idiomatic performances do bring out much of the sound world Bach originally created in these sonatas, he at least would not have particularly objected to their being performed on whatever was available at the time. Moreover, from the benefit of almost three centuries of instrumental development, these still resonate, whether on period instruments or modern. Both Vogler and Stadtfelt are fine performers. Their execution of the sonatas is clean and finely nuanced. Yes, there is more than a little bit of modern vibrato and resonant tone, but because they are rather equally matched, this gives their performance a rounded sound that brings out some of the technical subtleties of the composition. Sometimes they do miss an occasional beat; for example, in the Adagio of the G-Minor Sonata the cello mezza di voce is bland, not at all the resonant increasing vibrato that the sustained tone calls for, but by and large these are decent performances. The only rather weak areas are the chorale preludes. These, unfortunately, do not “vary between festive splendor and intimate melancholy,” but rather sound sort of like background music one might find in a romance film. They are universally romantic in their performance, and neither of the players really has a sense of what these things were supposed to do in real life. They would be good encores after particularly rousing applause, but they don’t really belong with the gamba sonatas. The final word on this disc is that these are all right, especially if you are a budding cellist who has contemplated your own performance of the sonatas. Period-instrument devotees will find this yet another anathema, but if you take it in the spirit of presenting a collaboration between two relatively new names in the field, then you might want to add this to your collection.
FANFARE: Bertil van Boer
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If Bach's viola da gamba and harpsichord sonatas played on the cello and piano hold appeal, then you'll very likely enjoy these direct, clear-lined, slightly dry, yet intelligently interactive and texturally contrasted performances. Jan Vogler applies vibrato discreetly, yet never sacrifices tonal values in the process. Vogler's haunting, alto-like timbre above the staff weaves aural magic in slower movements and in the chorale-prelude transcriptions that bookend the sonatas. With the ghost of Glenn Gould gently hovering above, Martin Stadtfeld's dry-point articulation, rhythmic incisiveness, and sparkling trills significantly contribute to the mix (incidentally, Sony ought to release Stadtfeld's excellent Goldberg Variations in the U.S.). The cover photo seems less worthy of Bach than of Saturday Night Fever.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
VIOLIN SONATAS
SCHATTENSPIELE
Beethoven: Piano Sonatas
Leonid Desyatnikov: The Leaden Echo
DESYATNIKOV Return 1. Du côté de chez Swan 2. Variations on the Obtaining of a Dwelling 3. Wie der alte Leiermann 4. The Leaden Echo 5. Moscow Nights: Theme 6 • 1 Dmitri Bulgakov (ob); 1 Anton Dressler (cl); 1,4,5,6 Roman Mints, 1,6 Anna Panina (vn); 1 Maxim Rysanov, 5 Serj Poltavsky (va); 1 Kristine Blaumane, 3 Boris Andrianov, 5 Evgeny Rumyantsev, 5 Petr Kondrashin (vc); 2,3 Alexei Goribol, 2 Leonid Desyatnikov, 4 Jacob Katsnelson (pn); 5 William Purefoy (ct); 5 Pavel Stepin (db); 5 Fedor Lednev, cond; 6 Homecoming Strings • QUARTZ QTZ 2087 (63:23 Text and Translation)
Don’t take this as gospel, but I remember reading some years ago that of all the musicians who ever lived, half are alive now. That must hold true for composers, too, because, despite my having heard music by more than 10,000 of them, here is yet another who is new to me. Leonid Desyatnikov is quite prolific, having written a symphony, four operas, several cantatas, as well as numerous vocal and instrumental compositions. He has also been quite active in the film world, where he has won several awards.
Desyatnikov seeks the impossible ideal of uniting ages, traditions, and cultures into an integral worldview. To that end, one hears influences from many musical traditions, some as far afield as those of India and Japan. He describes his style as “the emancipation of consonance, the transformation of the banal, minimalism with a human face.” I concur with this assessment, especially if he means by “minimalism with a human face” that his repetition stops well short of the ad nauseam repetition that curses most Minimalists. Desyatnikov knows the musically effective limits of repetition, and rarely exceeds those limits. As a consequence, I enjoyed this CD far more than most others that have even a hint of Minimalism attending them. He enjoys contrasting simple melodic lines with more static and dissonant interludes. There is often an icy “northern” feeling to his music that reminds me of the music of certain Finnish composers, such as Rautavaara and Sallinen. At other times, there is a sense of nostalgia, akin to a longing to return home. Indeed, mood-setting seems to be paramount in importance to this composer (surely a sine qua non for anyone writing film music).
The CD opens with one of Desyatnikov’s more recent (2006) works, Return. It is based upon several ostinati, and meshed with the melancholy that pervades much Russian and Soviet music. In this work, there is an evolution of thematic material toward a final statement based on gagaku , the ancient ceremonial music of Japan. This is done through expounding a particular note sequence in the tempered scale (via the Western oboe, clarinet, and strings) that finds its resolution in the untempered gagaku source.
Du côté de chez Swan for two pianos is based on “The Swan” from Saint-Saëns’s Carnival of the Animals. It begins with an ostinato in the upper register of one of the pianos, below which a series of rhythmically complex figures is heard. All of this gradually transmogrifies into the well-known tune. Thereafter, fragments of the tune or its accompaniment are heard in various guises, along with new material. The whole effect might be described as what one might obtain if one were to somehow assemble two different jigsaw puzzles together in a random fashion and view the resulting picture. The composer admits to “traces of fascination” with Ligeti, and indeed, the structure of the work does seem to owe something to the Austro-Hungarian master. I hasten to say that the piece works much better than my description might imply.
Variations on the Obtaining of a Dwelling for cello and piano is based, according to the notes, on the music of Joseph Haydn, specifically his “Farewell” Symphony. However, I also hear influence of Bach in this piece, especially in its opening, which evokes memories of his cello suites. Part of my perception might derive from the utterly pure sound and intonation produced by cellist Boris Andrianov, who approaches the work’s opening in a “period” performance style. Indeed, I would be delighted to hear this cellist perform the Bach solo suites. The simple, unaffected opening of the work eventually yields to more impassioned lines in the cello, culminating in some impressive climaxes, where the soloist floats on a sea of arpeggios. Along the way, the composer imitates the Indian tabla through pizzicati in the cello. The title of the piece suggests its program, that the composer has a place whence to go out into the world, and a place to come back home.
Wie der alte Leiermann was commissioned by Gidon Kremer for the Schubert Today project. Desyatnikov defines the genre of the piece as “not variations, not a fantasia, not a paraphrase. This is a commentary.” The commentary comes on the closing Lied of Schubert’s Winterreise, “Der Leiermann,” which is itself a static and rather proto-minimalist piece in its masterly depiction of the chill of winter. The composer invites the auditors of this piece to guess his reference therein “to Kremer’s exclusive repertoire.” I have no idea to what in particular he is referring here, but I can tell you that there are strong overtones of the D-Minor Partita of Bach, even down to the opening triad of its famous Chaconne. However, I cannot imagine that anyone could claim the Bach sonatas and partitas as his “exclusive repertoire.” I certainly don’t believe that Kremer would, despite the fact that his recording of these works ranks among the best.
The Leaden Echo is a product of 1991. It is a setting for countertenor and instruments of the eponymous poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins, and is dedicated to the St. Petersburg art scholar Arkady Ippolitov. Employing simple melodic lines and static underpinnings, the work maintains a Pre-Raphaelite aestheticism with its cult of beauty. Soloist William Purefoy has a beautiful vocal instrument, although it has more of a mezzo-soprano quality than what I usually envision to be the countertenor sound.
Balancing the opening work on the CD, the closing main theme from the film Moscow Nights evokes a sense of nostalgia and melancholy throughout its brief duration.
All the performances on this disc are exemplary and present the music in splendid fashion. Leonid Desyatnikov has something remarkable to say in his music, and I hope that many will afford themselves the opportunity to hear him say it.
FANFARE: David DeBoor Canfield