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Elsa Barraine: Musique rituelle
French Organ Music / Petur Sakari
The French organ tradition is one of the strongest and proudest in all of 20th-century music, to the point of forming a genre of its own. Standing on the shoulders of predecessors such as Franck and Widor and composing for instruments built in the glorious tradition of Cavaillé-Coll, a group of organist-composers created a number of works central to the organ literature; works which in spite of their great variety combine to form a highly characteristic repertoire. The young organist Pétur Sakari has gathered five such composers on his first disc for BIS, performing their music on the famous organ of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont in Paris. The five composers are all interconnected - Charles Tournemire and Louis Vierne studied together (under Franck), Maurice Duruflé studied under Tournemire and was Vierne's assistant at Notre Dame, and Marcel Dupré counted Vierne (and Widor) among his teachers and himself taught Olivier Messiaen. And although Pétur Sakari hails from Finland, he is also to an extent part of this great tradition, as the student of Thierry Escaich and Vincent Warnier, successors of Duruflé and his wife Marie-Madeleine as organists of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont. Sakari's selection brings together key works such as the hugely taxing Prelude and Fugue in B major by Dupré, Vierne's fantasy on the Bells of Westminster and Messiaen's meditative and atmospheric Celestial Banquet. The opening work on the disc is Tournemire's powerful improvisation on the Easter plain-chant Victimae paschali laudes, recorded in 1930 and later transcribed by Duruflé, whose own monumental Suite closes the recital. Throughout, Pétur Sakari - at the age of only 21 - gives proof of a mastery of the organ and a musicianship which promise great things to come. *playing the great organ of the Saint-Étienne-du-Mont Church, Paris
Bach: Cantatas BWV 169 & 82
TRANSCRIPTIONS FOR ORGAN
Bach: Harpsichord Works / Jory Vinikour
Presenting four masterworks for harpsichord by Johann Sebastian Bach, Jory Vinikour performs on a harpsichord modeled after German harpsichords of Bach’s time, notably Silbermann. Speaking with richness and clarity, this harpsichord was built by Tom and Barbara Wolf. The Italian Concerto and the French Overture, both published by Bach in the 2nd volume of his Clavier Übung, are paired with two other great works - the Chromatic Fantasy and Fugue, as well as the concerto-like Prelude and Fugue in a minor.
Two-time GRAMMY Award nominated harpsichordist Jory Vinikour is recognized as one of the outstanding musicians of his generation. A highly diversified career brings him to the world’s most important festivals and concert halls as recital and concerto soloist, and partner to several of today’s finest artists. Born in Chicago, Jory Vinikour studied in Paris with Huguette Dreyfus and Kenneth Gilbert on a Fulbright scholarship. First Prizes in the International Harpsichord Competitions of Warsaw (1993) and the Prague Spring Festival (1994) brought him to the public’s attention, and he has since appeared in festivals and concert series throughout much of the world. In 2019, Jory made his debut at the Ravinia Festival, playing Bach’s Goldberg Variations. At the Aspen Festival, he conducted Bach’s six Brandenburg Concertos.
REVIEW:
There is no doubting the brightness and breeziness of the Italian Concerto's opening Allegro, but what is most impressive is Vinikour’s ability to create a convincing Adagio. The left-hand here can so easily sound awkward, but Vinikour constructs instead a rhythmic bedrock against which the right hand can sing. And sing it does: This is “harpsichord vocalisation” of the type I have rarely encountered, and with a finale that not only glows with life but has a raft of insights. This is wonderful, sometimes even great, Bach playing.
– Fanfare
Zephyr (Carson Cooman Organ Music, Vol. 8)
All The Way Back / Vytautas Smetona
The pieces on this album offer Smetona technical feats and expressive themes, all of which the pianist handles with ease, determination, and eloquence. From Bach's lyrical and joyous Prelude and Fugue in C-sharp Major, BWV 848 to the somber and dramatic range of Liszt's Funerailles (October 1849), Smetona evokes passion and refinement in his performances. The technical mastery of works such as Brahms's Intermezzo in B-flat Minor, Op. 117, No. 2, Schumann's Fantasie in C Major, Op. 17, and Chopin's Ballade No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 23 is handled by Smetona with sophistication, lucidity, and powerful passage work. Smetona shows us a balance between accurately playing the notes on the score and interpreting the feeling between them.
Sgambati: Complete Piano Music, Vol. 1 / Caporiccio
Piano Classics presents the first volume in a major new series which promises to become the most comprehensive recorded survey of a central but now little-known figure in 19th-century Italian music. Born in Rome in 1841, Giovanni Sgambati cut an impressive but relatively familiar figure as a prodigious young virtuoso until, as a 21-year-old keyboard lion in the making, he was introduced to Franz Liszt. The encounter changed Sgambati’s life. Liszt, perhaps the single most influential figure in European musical life in the middle of the 19th century, took the young Sgambati under his wing, and his faith was richly repaid. Still in his 20s, Sgambati conducted the Italian premiere of the Dante Symphony and even the premiere of the first (lengthy) part of the Christus oratorio. There is an irony that the single piece through which his name has travelled worldwide is a piano Melodie, a sensuously achieved transcription of the Dance of the Blessed Spirits from Gluck’s opera Orfeo ed Euridice. Guaranteed to hush a rapturous audience into silence, it became the much-loved encore piece for the late Nelson Freire, among others. Too little of Sgambati’s music for his own instrument is known beyond the Melodie. This neglect is being redressed in style by the Italian pianist Gaia Federica Caporiccio, born in Florence in 1988.
The first volume of a projected complete series of Sgambati’s piano works proceeds in mostly chronological fashion. Thus the curtain is drawn back with a flourish in the Gothic, Bachian arpeggios of the Prelude and Fugue Op.6.
Vincent Ho: The Twelve Chinese Zodiac Animals, Books 1 & 2
Buxtehude Collection
Süda: Complete Organ Music / Maidre
D'Anglebert: Suites for Harpsichord / Farr
D’ANGLEBERT Harpsichord Suites: No. 1 in G; No. 2 in g; No. 3 in d; No. 4 in D • Elizabeth Farr (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.570472 (2 CDs: 134:26)
Jean-Henry D’Anglebert (1629–1691) published only one book of his works, all of it for keyboard instruments, in 1689. It quickly became popular, appearing in a second, probably unauthorized edition, engraved in Amsterdam. Aside from the four suites that Farr has recorded here, it contained 15 dance transcriptions from Lully’s operas, four other transcriptions of anonymous origin, five fugues for organ on the same curiously angular subject, a Quatuor sur le Kyrie for organ, and a treatise on basso continuo. Though the composer wrote in his preface that he hoped to furnish at some future date existing works in other keys, they never found their way into print. More music written by D’Anglebert, however, has turned up in an autograph manuscript entitled Rés 89ter . It is believed to have been written largely in the composer’s hand, and includes 76 pieces, 54 of which are his transcriptions of lute music. Nine are earlier versions of his published works; four in C Major, were possibly meant for a second book; while the rest are pieces by Chambonnieres, Louis Couperin, Marin and Richard Marais.
So what Naxos and Farr have provided here is all of D’Anglebert’s original, extant, and known music for harpsichord, minus the four pieces in C Major. It is almost uniformly of substantial quality, favoring polyphonic mastery and fanciful invention in a lute style brisé over the richer vertical textures and descriptive pieces of other, later French Baroque musicians. It also possesses an expressively melancholy intimacy that brings to mind at times François Couperin.
There are other links to Couperin le Grand, as well. The most important for our purposes was their mutual insistence upon notational faithfulness in performance, without changes to tempo, rhythm, or further ornamentation. Couperin wrote as much in the Preface to his first volume: “I have already added all the necessary ornaments, and I have observed the correct vertical alignment of the notes.” James R. Anthony, in turn, remarked about D’Anglebert’s music in his French Baroque Music from Beaujoyeulx to Rameau that “the music is extremely travaillée ,” or worked up in a very detailed fashion. Just how worked up it is can be judged by D’Anglebert’s preface that provided an ornament table with 29 symbols, including some he invented, and many that he employed frequently throughout these pieces. (A copy of this table in Bach’s handwriting survives, indicating that he probably knew D’Anglebert’s work.)
Music as elaborate as this, with its rhetorical flourishes and pauses, could easily become mired in particulars. However, that’s not the case on this recording. Farr is very careful not to lose the forward pulse of the music while phrasing appropriately, as the Allemande in the G-Minor Suite illustrates. Nor does this force her into hectic tempos or rhythmic stiffness. The Courante II in G Minor, for example, shows how she can sustain an almost majestically gliding sense of movement in a piece played on the slow side of adagio (66 bps). Conversely, the Gigue I from the G Major Suite is a fast moderato (116 bps) treated with exceptional metrical flexibility, yet never loses its core dance-like element. It is this knife’s edge balance between rigidity and freeness, clarity of ornamentation and momentum, as much as it is a pursuit of clarity and loving sculpted phrasing that defines Farr’s performance on this release. She does a marvelous job, aided and abetted by a pair of fine instruments crafted by Keith Hill: a fine double manual harpsichord after François Blanchet, and a delicate lute harpsichord created using the description found in Adlung’s posthumously published Musica Mechanica Organoedi (1768).
Though each of these suites has been recorded by one or more harpsichordists other than Farr, I can find no instances of all four available in a single, current release. Byron Schenkman is both vital and distinguished on Centaur 2435, offering the Second Suite and excerpts from both other suites and the lute transcriptions. Céline Frisch is stylish if slightly less relaxed than Farr in the First Suite (minus the Gavotte and Minuet) and the Second on Alpha 74. She has the advantage of offering all five of the fugues, played on the organ, as well as several of the Lully transcriptions and the originals, performed by Café Zimmerman, of which Frisch is a founding member. Neither the Third nor the Fourth Suite is included, however. Barbara Maria Willi offers the First, Third, and Fourth Suites on Musicaphon 56827 (which I have not heard), but foregoes the Second. This makes the current set recommendable even if it weren’t such a delight to hear—which, fortunately, it is.
It only remains to note that the sound on this recording is bright but close, with none of the mechanism noise or over-reverberant hall sounds that sometimes bedevil harpsichord albums. Farr supplies excellent and lengthy notes focusing on the music, while Hill offers some background on both D’Anglebert’s own harpsichord, the instruments we hear, and the practice of ravalement , adding wood to extend either the treble and/or bass of an older instrument.
Full praise to Farr and Naxos for the good they’ve wrought here. Get this if you enjoy French Baroque harpsichord music.
FANFARE: Barry Brenesal
Hovhaness: Symphony No 48... / Schwarz
The truth is, Hovhaness always has had his detractors. Bernstein rather maliciously called his First Symphony “ghetto music” (which would be a compliment today), and his 67 symphonies and other works can sound rather the same–but then, so does a lot of Bach. For me anyway, there’s something disarming about his childlike joy in consonant harmony, in the fluidity of his fugal writing, and his utter unconsciousness of the fact that his melodies often tread dangerously close to kitsch. Say what you will, his music is unfailingly honest. It is what it is.
There are also moments where it achieves an astonishing, passionate intensity. The Prelude and Quadruple Fugue is, in its way, a masterpiece in considering the means by which it accumulates energy as each distinctively-wrought fugue subject enters and gets combined with its predecessors. It’s so clear, so easy to follow, and so much fun that you entirely forget the sophisticated contrapuntal mind at work behind the scenes. And that is as it should be.
The Concerto for Soprano Saxophone and Strings also sounds vividly tuneful and unfailingly attractive. When Hovhaness calls the finale, perhaps naively, Let The Living and The Celestial Sing, it’s easy to scoff, but the music is just so bloody pretty. Greg Banaszak plays the solo part with the suave timbre that the work requires, especially in the Adagio espressivo at the start of the second movement, while Hovhaness specialist Gerard Schwarz does his usual fine job with all three works, galvanizing the players of the Eastern Music Festival Orchestra to a welcome degree of corporate integrity. It helps, of course, that Hovhaness’ music is as straightforward to play as it is to hear. Beautiful.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Bach: Complete Concertos For Solo Harpsichord / Elizabeth Farr
BACH Concertos for Solo Harpsichord: BWV 972-93, 975-76, 978, 980 (after Vivaldi); 974 (after A. Marcello); 979 (after Torrelli); 981 (after B. Marcello); 977, 983, 986, 985 (after Telemann); 982, 984, 987 (after Ernst). Prelude and Fugue in a, BWV 894 • Elizabeth Farr (hpd) • NAXOS 8572006-07 (2 CDs: 150:35)
This recording hit me like a ton of bricks in three ways. First, there is the music itself, not actually by J.S. Bach but rather transcriptions he made for harpsichord of concertos by Vivaldi, Torelli, Alessandro and Benedetto Marcello, Johann Ernst, Telemann, and unknown composers, in addition to his own Prelude and Fugue in A Minor. Second, there is the extraordinarily high quality of Elizabeth Farr’s performances, dramatic, nuanced, and extraordinarily colorful. And third, there is the sound of the instrument, a rare Baroque-era harpsichord with a 16’ set of strings as well as damper and sustain pedals. When this CD first started pouring out of my speakers, I thought I was listening to Wanda Landowska in digital stereo. It turns out that such fabulous beasts did exist, after all, in the Baroque era, in fact from as far back as the 16th century. Well, well, well. It turns out that Landowska, who has been lambasted for more than half a century for her “grotesque,” “gargantuan-sounding” instruments, was on the right track after all. Not having an authentic instrument to play, she simply had Pleyel create one for her. Granted, it had a grand piano frame because she was a touring musician and even a newly minted harpsichord with 16’ strings would have gotten pummeled on trains, but the sound was not that far removed from this.
Farr is also an interesting annotator. In order to save space I refer you to her liner notes, which explain why Bach transcribed 22 concertos by primarily Italian composers for harpsichord (six of them are for two harpsichords). The key to the project was young Prince Johann Ernst, the nephew of Duke Wilhelm, who in fact composed three of the concertos transcribed here. The young prince, an outstanding musician, wanted them to play on his instrument. Bach was willing to oblige for one particular reason: By writing out these concertos he could study their composing methods, and apply what he learned to his own “Italianate” music.
Farr’s playing is in the style of Leonhardt and Kipnis, using a great deal of rubato—some of it obvious, some of it quite subtle—to break up the very regular rhythms. I love this style. It is antithetical to British harpsichordists like Trevor Pinnock (whom I also highly admire), but very much in line with the type of “hesitating” style that Bach himself later employed in so many solo harpsichord works, a style he undoubtedly picked up from his friend and older colleague Buxtehude. She also plays very dramatically—heavy chording and rich textures when emulating the full tutti of the orchestral passages, lighter and airier in slow movements and when emulating solo passages. This took me some getting used to, but I came to enjoy this approach.
Some listeners may feel cheated that only one work (the Prelude and Fugue) is actually by Bach, but as a compendium of Baroque style transcribed by a musical genius, played to perfection and stunningly recorded, this set is very highly recommended.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Ives: String Quartets No 1 & 2 / Juilliard String Quartet
The String Quartet No. 1 was the composer’s first major work. Although he wrote it as early as 1896, it did not receive its first public performance until 1957, three years after Ives’ death. This is listener-friendly Ives, filled with snatches of hymns and other familiar tunes and not knotty as his later works, including the String Quartet No. 2, were to become. Although it is unmistakably Ives, it also sounds at times like Brahms and Dvo?ák. The work’s fugal first movement has an interesting history. Apparently Ives decided to detach it from the quartet and use it as the third movement of his Symphony No. 4, where it remains today. However, when the quartet was first published in1961 the first movement returned to its proper place. The quartet has been performed in this four-movement form ever since. According to David Johnson, who wrote the original liner notes, Ives gave the four movements of the quartet, often subtitled, “A Revival Service,” the following “churchly titles”: Fugue,Prelude,Offertory and Postlude. The printed score, though, eliminates these and gives only the tempo markings.
The Quartet No. 2 shows an entirely different side of Charles Ives. Whereas the earlier work was highly melodic and Romantic, the Second Quartet is more aggressively modern-dissonant and largely atonal. It also contains snatches of songs, such as Dixie and Columbia the Gem of the Ocean, and no little humor. Near the end of the second movement, the quartet stops to tune up before closing with two crashing chords. At one point in this movement there is a brief quotation from the Ode to Joy from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Ives retained titles for the three movements: I-Discussions (Andante moderato), II-Arguments (Allegro con spirito), and III-The Call of the Mountains (Adagio). The quartet is also programmatic. Ives wrote the following after the work’s title: “…four men-who converse, discuss, argue, fight, shake hands, shut up-then walk up to the mountain side to view the firmament!”
These being two of Ives’ most important chamber works, it is strange that they have not been recorded more often-especially compared to the songs and symphonies. Of more modern recordings, the one that most closely approaches the benchmark the Juilliard has provided is that by what many consider today’s leading American quartet, the Emersons. Their recording on DG also contains a very brief Scherzo, called “Holding Your Own,” that Ives composed in 1903-04, and Samuel Barber’s String Quartet, Op. 11 containing the original version of his famous Adagio. Those performances are perfectly fine as a whole, even if they do not quite possess the dramatic edge or the nuances of the Juilliard. The main advantage of the Emerson disc is that it contains over an hour of music very well played and recorded. That said, the re-mastering for CD of the Juilliard recording is very successful and the sound is as good as that for the Emerson. I have not heard the accounts by the Blair Quartet on Naxos, but they have received positive reviews as well, including Dominy Clements' review on this website. You pays your money and takes your choice! The notes for the Juilliard CD are from the original LP and the presentation is first class in every way.
-- Leslie Wright, MusicWeb International
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There are several other fine recordings of these two remarkable quartets--not nearly as many as there should be--and they all include additional works that may entice some listeners to choose their fuller programs over this 49-minute recital. But that would be a mistake, for these performances by the Juilliard Quartet are exceptional in their refinement and detail, their vibrant ensemble character, and, especially in the First quartet, their respectful attention to Ives' thematic material, never artificially punching up the spontaneous hymn-tune bits nor overworking the more integrated developmental passages.
The very articulate playing allows unusual but essential clarity among the four parts, and the group's Ivesian sensibility appreciates the background programmatic concept of "A Revival Service" (First quartet) and the underlying "story" of the Second quartet's four men "who converse, discuss, argue, fight, shake hands, shut up--then walk up the mountainside to view the firmament!", but always celebrates each work's most compelling musical attributes.
Although the First quartet was written in 1896, not untypically for Ives' music its premiere wasn't until many decades later--in 1957. The Juilliard's recording followed only nine years after, in 1966--the Second quartet was recorded the following year. But there's a dynamism and freshness in the playing--complemented by sound that's just slightly dry enough to give the strings a nice vibrant edge--that surpasses all subsequent readings on disc.
The Emerson Quartet renditions (DG) are not only often faster, but the interpretations have an overtly academic character in the all-too-conspicuous articulation and phrasing. The Lydian Quartet's (Centaur) fine enough performances are dulled just a bit by the acoustic; the Blair Quartet's (Naxos) readings are very good, the best of the modern recordings of these two unique--and extremely different quartets. But whether you already have or eventually want more than one version, the Juilliard's Ives should not be missed.
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
Buxtehude: Organ Music, Vol 1 / Volker Ellenberger
Naxos launches a survey of Buxtehude's complete organ works with a well-varied selection of chorale preludes, fugal works, and virtuoso showpieces. Volker Ellenberger's fluent technique and intelligent musicianship particularly come across in the chorale preludes and in larger-scaled works like the Magnificat primi toni (BuxWV 203), where the four fugues effortlessly emerge from their more freely conceived preceding episodes. The bassoon-like clarity of the pedal registration in the G major Prelude and Fugue BuxWV 147 helps move the music forward, as does Ellenberger's sharply etched phrasing in the fugue. The latter contrasts with Rene Saorgin's slower, more yielding (though no less valid) treatment. On the other hand, Saorgin's ebullient dash through the BuxWV 149 G minor Praeludium's introduction presents the music in a more improvisatory light compared to the shorter phrase lengths Ellenberger stresses.
The 1997 organ of the Evangelical Lutheran City Church in Bückeburg, Germany benefits from clear and close-up engineering, similar to what producer Wolfgang Rübsam enjoyed in his fine (and sadly out-of-print) Buxtehude cycle recorded for Bellaphon in the early 1980s. Should the remaining releases in this series match Volume 1's high performance and engineering standards, we'll have a Buxtehude cycle on par with Saorgin's classic Harmonia Mundi recordings from the late '60s/early '70s.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Bach, Liszt, Vasks: Triptychon / Apkalana
| Having garnered the ultimate accolades from a host of arts review pages for her premiere recording on the Hamburg Elbphilharmonie’s organ and on the double organ of the Taiwanese Kaohsiung Center for the Arts, concert organist Iveta Apkalna now presents her third release on the Berlin Classics label as a triple album. Triptychon spans three centuries and three religious confessions on one single organ: Johann Sebastian Bach, Franz Liszt and Peteris Vasks can be heard on this, the first release of a recording played in Neubrandenburg’s Concert Church on the organ which she helped to develop and inaugurated. Apkalna opens the first altar panel with three works by her compatriot and personal friend: alongside Arvo Pärt, Peteris Vasks is the best known and most often played Baltic composer. “Latvia is Peteris Vasks and Peteris Vasks is Latvia,” explains the organist. “I hear the landscape of Latvia in his music, the far horizons of our flat country, the meadows and forests, birdsong and the sea. Peteris Vasks is undoubtedly a truly Latvian character, though he also breathes the ‘global air’. Otherwise people all around the world would not love his music.” Johann Sebastian Bach is at the heart of Iveta Apkalna’s triptych – just as he is central to the career of any organist. For her, his Toccata, Adagio and Fugue in C major BWV564, the Trio Sonata in D minor BWV527 and the six Schübler Chorales BWV645–650 represent the greatest possible stylistic, compositional and tonal variety backed up by personal motives. Franz Liszt, who achieved worldwide fame as a travelling virtuoso and visionary composer, was also a formidable organist who, towards the end of his career, took holy orders. His oeuvre too is close to Iveta Apkalna’s heart. |
J.S. Bach: Pieces for Harpsichord / Belder
Over a career spanning more than 30 years, the Dutch harpsichordist and conductor Pieter-Jan Belder has become renowned as a Bach interpreter with his surveys in concert and on record of the keyboard and orchestral masterpieces such as The Well-Tempered Clavier, the Brandenburg Concertos and no fewer than three recordings of the Goldberg Variations. On this new album, recorded in 2020 and 2021 on a modern Titus Crijnen copy of a Ruckers model, Pieter-Jan Belder turns to the overlooked corners of Bach’s early writing for the harpsichord. These include standalone fugues, fantasias and suites based on themes by contemporary composers such as Reincken and Albinoni. Nevertheless, there is no sense of routine or technical exercise about them. The pieces here are almost all extrovert, playing to the strengths of the young Bach as a performer as well as composer, and already demonstrating that confidence which would go on to mark his mature compositions.
An appreciation of French flair is discernible in the F minor Suite BWV823 and elsewhere, but the dominant influence is the keyboard writing of Girolamo Frescobaldi, whose toccatas and canzonas were studied by Bach from an early age. The better-known pieces here include the sober and songful Aria variata BWV989 with its courtly French theme, and the E flat Prelude, Fugue and Allegro originally written for lute, but which also finds a happy home on the harpsichord. The most famous but also most uncharacteristic piece is the mysterious Capriccio ‘on the departure of a beloved brother’ which appears to be a work of Bach’s late teenage years, though no definite corroborative proof of its commission or purpose has yet come to light. Rather, it seems unique in Bach’s output as a humorous parody of styles and emotions.
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
Bach: Organ Works / Elena Privalova
Bach's devotion to the organ, and his desire to excel on it, is without question but whereas much of his output was written with a specific purpose or occasion in mind, the toccatas and fugues are less easily categorized. Almost all of them date from Bach's Weimar years (1708-1717), when he had the most opportunities to play the organ, although he may have revised them in Leipzig (after 1723). Their elaborate nature belies the fact that Bach had to be careful about showing off: in 1705, while temporarily in Leipzig, he had been censured for an over-long organ prelude before Communion and in 1706 he had attracted the ire of the Arnstadt authorities by confusing the congregation with complicated chorale accompaniments. Organist Elena Privalova presents a program of these works, beautifully recorded at the Riga Cathedral.
Review
Elena Privalova concentrates on the Toccata and Fugue works that date from Bach’s Weimar years of 1708-1717. It is a matter of record that such elaborate music was by no means always welcome during church services, so one can imagine these pieces being delivered perhaps at the end of formalities, sending the congregation out into the world in a wash of inspired but complex organ sound. These are all glorious works, and perhaps the only criticism one could have of such a programme is that it is rather relentlessly glorious. There are of course some contrasts of registration, but “the richest possible texture” forms the majority from beginning to end, which is of course in the nature of this particular programme. You may find yourself wanting to pick out a track or two rather than blasting through the whole CD in one go, but the temptation to whack up the volume and stir up the dust in your listening room is powerful indeed.
Elena Privalova’s technical prowess and stylish musicality is very much in evidence throughout. She is rhythmically accurate and doesn’t rush, but nor does she avoid brisk and exciting tempi, for instance in BWV 564, the rasping bottom end of the pedal solo in the opening Toccata of which is also a highlight. The D minor “Dorian” Toccata and Fugue BWV 538 is one of the more famous pieces here, and Privalova delivers that ‘demonstration’ quality that the virtuoso Bach might have employed while testing and giving organs their thorough workout.
The programme ends with that most famous of all organ works, the Toccata and Fugue in D minor, BWV 565 but, while that dramatic opening has become something of a classical music cliché this is a work that never fails to fascinate when you listen properly. It is nice to find it at the end of the recital rather than the beginning, forming a suitable climax rather than an impressive opening. Privalova is less reverential than many, swiftly joining each section in a fantasia-like fashion that doesn’t wait around for us to get bored, and reminding us of this composer’s amazing inventiveness (there are of course arguments that this may not be a Bach original) with the sheer quantity of ideas that pass by on this most special of musical conveyor-belts.
This is a very fine Bach organ CD that has been superbly recorded and with playing that is both musically insightful and technically magnificent, and you can also add this to your collection in the knowledge that it is free of gimmicks or annoying mannerisms. I had a look around for a single disc release that covers the same music and came up with Kåre Nordstoga’s recording on Simax Classics PSC1152. This is another fine release, though made on a slightly smaller-scale instrument. Your own taste will dictate which you prefer, though for me that gorgeous adagio of BWV 564 has more expressive weight with Privalova. This kind of detail, along with the sheer impact of the recording as a whole, makes this something of a winner.
--MusicWeb International (Dominy Clements)
BEETHOVEN: COMPLETE STRING QUARTETS
Bach: Toccatas / Masaaki Suzuki
Very little is known about the origin of J. S. Bach’s seven Toccatas (BWV?910–916) or of their use. They are believed to have been written before 1717 or the end of Bach’s Weimar period – but it is quite possible that at least some of them were drafted before he arrived there in 1707, at the age of 22. The Toccatas are usually performed on harpsichord or piano – but even though they are ‘manualiter’ (intended to be played by the hands only) and do not call for pedal parts, they are also occasionally heard on the organ. In terms of style they are examples of the so-called stylus phantasticus – ‘the most free and unfettered method of composition’ – and belong to the North German organ tradition of the late 17th century. Each piece consists of several distinct and contrasting sections, interweaving strict counterpoint and fugal passages with freely rhapsodic material, and as such the toccatas differ from the two-movement prelude-and-fugue format which Bach later would put his own, indelible stamp on. With this disc, Masaaki Suzuki takes on some of the earliest of Bach’s extant harpsichord compositions, after having released acclaimed recordings of a wide range of later works, from the two-part Inventions to the two books of the Well-Tempered Clavier. However, he also brings his experience in performing the music of Bach’s North German predecessors to bear, for instance Buxtehude (BIS-1809) and Nicolaus Bruhns.
REVIEW:
Since completing his Bach cantata cycle, conductor and keyboardist Masaaki Suzuki has turned to Bach's keyboard music. The results have been consistently satisfying, as one would expect from this great contemporary Bach interpreter, but even Suzuki fans might have wondered what he would do with these six rarely played toccatas. There are more purely dramatic readings of these works, mostly played on piano, but Suzuki is attuned to this music, and his performances are not in the least colorless. Bach's intense Adagios, like that of the Toccata in E minor, BWV 914, and the irregular structures of the music have snap and surprise. Suzuki's 1982 harpsichord, based on an enlarged Ruckers instrument, is an excellent choice for the music, and anyone whose Bach collection is missing these remarkable works can do well with this choice.
-- ALlMusic.com (James Manheim)
Tatiana Nikolayeva: Prague Recordings
It was fascinating to read in the booklet that she had such a phenomenal memory that she never took any sheet music with her on tours, relying instead on that memory for her performances. The digital mastering from the original tapes by Jan Lži?a? has done wonders with the inevitable clicks and pops one might expect from these recordings, some of which were made over 65 years ago, though obviously the solo works come off best as the orchestral sound betrays its age more readily. That said her playing in the Rachmaninov piano concerto is as convincing as any I have ever heard despite the (to my ears) rather sluggish orchestral accompaniment. Her playing comes over as completely natural, without the least suggestion of artifice. The first of the solo works is Prokofiev’s 3rd piano sonata ‘From old notebooks’ and despite the rather brittle sound caused, I think, by a little too much treble, it is a solid performance that demonstrates her capacity for bringing out the contrast between the stormy and the subtle. Next come three pieces by Nikolayeva herself revealing a less well-known or appreciated side of her, that of composer. Her Three concert etudes, op13 show a real talent; how much music she wrote I must confess I don’t know but on the evidence here what she did compose is clearly worth exploring. It shows the influence of Prokofiev with complex rhythms and dense textures as opposed to the lighter and more romantic touch of Rachmaninov.
Opening disc 2, we are treated to three of the Shostakovich 24 Preludes and fugues which, as mentioned above, were dedicated to her and for which she was closely consulted. You would expect Shostakovich to know what he was doing with his dedication and consultations and her performance shows how well-founded his opinion was as she plays the pieces as naturally as if they were her own. In an interview she characterised the 15th prelude and fugue in D flat major as “...so fierce and lively, like a whirlpool. And in that quiet forest, (in Ruza outside Moscow at an artists’ retreat) when I heard that stormy whirlpool I went into wild rapture”. That certainly comes over in her playing. Conductor Kurt Sanderling told Tatiana that in his opinion the preludes and fugues were Shostakovich’s intimate diary and when she objected “Why not his string quartets and symphonies”, he replied no, this work for it is “an intimate diary of Shostakovich, kept for himself, that brings happiness to all of us”. How true Sanderling’s observation was and how wonderful to listen to these works with that thought in mind.
She then turns to Bach, her great love and for which playing she is rightly renowned. First up is the Fantasia in C minor, BWV 816 and her luminous playing is revealed to its highest degree, and shines through despite the sound appearing to be a little distant. Even better is her earlier recording of Bach’s French Suite no.5 in G major, BWV 816. This is a remarkable recording in terms of playing and sound which belies its age of 66 years. She plays these again as if she owned them; just listen to the Courante and its following Sarabande and marvel at the contrast she creates, injecting excitement and refinement in equal degrees and after the gentleness of the Sarabande the Gavotte and Bourrée revert to the thrill of a headlong race as notes tumble out in a great rush; utterly thrilling. Altogether a fabulous 15 ½ minutes of pianistic brilliance finishing with a breathtakingly fast Gigue.
Closing the two-disc set is another marvellous example of Nikolayeva’s technical skills, which were coupled with an innate sensitivity: her 1952 recording of Bach’s Chromatic fantasia & fugue in D minor, BWV 903 which, along with the Prokofiev, her own concert etudes, the Shostakovich and the Bach fantasia, is the first time the recording has appeared on CD. It is further proof that she was one of the greatest ever interpreters of Bach’s keyboard works. It is not enough simply to love them since all pianists who include them in their repertoire surely do, rather it is a total understanding of how they work and an ability to reveal their intrinsic humanity which she had and which is rare in my listening experience. This set is a must-have for all lovers of solo piano music and admirers of the consummate art of Tatiana Nikolayeva, a true original.
– MusicWeb International (Steve Arloff)
