Search results: Search results
210 results
Products
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Alkan: 25 Preludes dans tous les tons majeurs et mineurs, Op. 31 / Viner
Piano Classics · Oct 2019CD$21.99
Durufle: Complete Organ Music
Moszkowski: Orchestral Music, Vol. 3 / Hobson, Sinfonia Varsovia
Reger: Orchestral Works / Levin, Brandenburg State Orchestra
-----
REVIEW:
That this is a welcome release scarcely needs to be said: too often Reger is considered a significant composer for organ, but significant within that niche: a master of fugal writing, perhaps on the heavy teutonic side. But, of course, there has always been more to him than this. This Naxos release allows wider access to his works in commendable performances by a conductor evidently deeply sympathetic to his cause.
The Variations and Fugue on a Theme by J.S.Bach, Op.81 (1904) are an arrangement by Ira Levin of Reger’s work for piano. In 1904, Reger considered it his finest work to date, and it was enthusiastically greeted on first public performance. The theme comes from the aria ‘Seine Allmacht zu ergründen, wird sich kein Mensche finden’, originally a duet for tenor and contralto, with oboe, viola d’amore and continuo, from Cantata No. 128, Auf Christi Himmelfahrt allein. Reger had insisted that the pianist treat the theme ‘sweetly and always very legato—that is to say, like an oboe solo’. Levin’s arrangement catches that very well.
It should be noted that Levin does not merely rearrange for different instruments: he reconstructs the work in a valuable reimagining – tempo is slower, preferring 6/4 time to Reger’s more general 6/8. He omits four variations (6,7,11 and 12), and uses a broad variety of instrumentation, notably in percussion, though no instruments not found elsewhere in his works. The result has revealing clarity and a taut architecture, very enjoyable in its own terms. Orchestration brings out very sharply the relationship to the organ, especially in the opening variations, and perhaps even more to Reger’s reverence for Brahms: sonorities are frequently Brahmsian. Levin is absolutely true to the spirit of Reger and his special emotional world. If the letter is Reger is an issue, some will prefer the piano version: but there is more than enough room for both.
Four Tone Poems after Arnold Böcklin, Op.128 (1913) is Reger’s best-known orchestral work, inspired by the paintings of Böcklin, the 19th Century Swiss artist. These were symbolist pictures, with some abrupt changes of mood. Reger marks these shifts with subtlety. The overall mood is serious, but with many charms, notably in Der geigende Eremit (‘The Hermit Fiddler’) with its lovely violin solo, wonderfully captured by Klaudyna Schulze-Broniewska, the leader of the Brandenburgisches Staatsorchester.
Add the slightly romantic arrangement by Reger of O Mensch, bewein’ dein’ Sünde gross, BWV 622 to the mix, and we have a CD whose appeal should move far beyond Reger enthusiasts. This is a splendid introduction for those who have thought of Reger as too heavy for their tastes, and packed with insights for those who have come to love him.
– MusicWeb International (Michael Wilkinson)
Zemlinsky & Schreker / Gielen, ORF Vienna Radio Symphony
Alexander Zemlinsky composed his Lyric Symphony op. 18 for soprano, baritone and orchestra during his time as musical director of the New German Theatre in Prague, where he had moved in 1911 from Vienna. It was generally regarded as his corresponding equivalent to Mahler’s Lied von der Erde (C210021) and is based on Nobel Prize laureate and most important representative of modern Indian literature Rabindranath Tagore. The work is combined with the befriended and three years older ‘phantasmogorist’ Franz Schreker’s Prelude to a Drama, which is a version of the overture of his Die Gezeichneten. It might be considered symptomatic for the most notable characteristic of Schreker’s music: the dominance of chordal sounds over the melodic element.
REVIEW:
Zemlinsky’s seven-movement Lyric Symphony lays claim to being his best-known work and is certainly the only one to attract a significant number of prominent conductors. This live account from Vienna in 1989 was Gielen’s second recording of the work, and it finds him in prime form. He leads a powerful orchestral reading that is all the more impressive because Vienna’s proficient Radio Symphony was the last orchestra I expected to be virtuosic. Every section is totally committed to the score’s voluptuous passions, however, and the recorded sound from Austrian Radio is wonderfully clear and vivid, no small achievement where Zemlinsky’s dense orchestration is concerned.
In the soprano part the choice has typically been big, dramatic voices on the order of Deborah Voigt and Alessandra Marc. Karen Armstrong can’t compete in that league, and wisely she doesn’t try to. By not pushing her voice, singing the chromatic lines accurately, and paying attention to the verse, she delivers a more than respectable performance. But realistically neither singer has the most beautiful or distinctive voice. Orfeo supplies no texts or translations, which means that this recording can only be supplementary to one that does. There are enough drawbacks, despite Gielen’s outstanding conducting, to place this release somewhere in the middle of the pack.
The pairing of Franz Schreker’s 20-minute Prelude to a Drama from 1914 isn’t a new addition to Gielen’s discography, since it also served as the filler to his Mahler Fourth Symphony. The Prelude is rich in themes and incidents, and so skillfully structured that it can be analyzed as a sonata movement. Schreker was a colorist, as he described himself: “I am a sound artist, a phantasmagorist of sound, a sound-aesthete, and there’s not a trace of melody in me.”
The music is lovely, and Gielen’s performance glows with ardent feeling, not a mode I associate with him.
For me the evocation of history hangs heavily over this release, but it holds considerable musical rewards, too, especially for aficionados of an aesthetic doomed to be wiped out through political denunciation.
-- Fanfare (Huntley Dent)
César Franck Edition (Warner Classics)
Buxtehude Collection
Prisma, Vol. 3: Contemporary Works for Orchestra
Gardner: Complete Organ Music, Vol. 1 / Winpenny
The music of the English composer John Gardner (1917–2011) – basically tonal and always impeccably crafted – is characterised by rhythmic vivacity and harmonic immediacy. His musical fingerprints come from his love of jazz, Renaissance and Baroque procedures and his mastery of imitative counterpoint; his use of established musical forms invests them with a quirky and distinctive harmonic idiom. This first album of two collecting his entire output of organ music presents not only his sly humour but also the staggering contrapuntal craftsmanship of his fugue on a theme by Anton Bruckner – one of the monuments of recent British writing for the organ.
Leon McCawley: Piano Recital
Saint-saëns: Album For Piano, Etudes / Mi-joo Lee
Camille Saint-Saëns was one of the major Romantic composers in nineteenth century France. Regarded as a pioneer in his early years after the Great War and then in his eighties Saint-Saëns was still writing in his familiar late-Romantic style and his music had become regarded as anachronistic. Throughout his long life of eighty-six years Saint-Saëns wrote in most genres, including symphonies, concertante works, sacred and secular choral music, a ballet Javotte and incidental music, chamber music, numerous songs and pieces for piano and organ, and numerous arrangements. Saint-Saëns much cherished his thirteen operas all written during the period 1872-1911. Despite being prolific the fame of Saint-Saëns rests largely on just a small number of works most notably: the Symphony No. 3 Organ; the Symphonic Poem: Danse macabre; Softly awakes my heart and the Bacchanale from the opera Samson and Delilah; the Introduction and Rondo capriccioso and Havanaise for violin and orchestra, and The Swan from The Carnival of the Animals. Although of high quality the majority of his works are hardly known. A concert pianist himself a substantial number of Saint-Saëns’s rarely heard solo piano scores are a case in point. Even in his home country his piano scores soon became lost among the piano works of his European predecessors Liszt and Chopin and the impressionism of his successors Debussy, Ravel and Satie.
This MDG release serves as a excellent showcase for the solo piano scores. Presented here are three collections of six piano works. For some reason they are not placed in chronological order. The first is the Album pour Piano, op. 72. These are pieces tailored for virtuoso display in the fashionable Parisian salons and concert halls. The Album opens with an urgent Prélude with passages of calm; sounding somewhat Lisztian. A peaceful work tinged with melancholy the Carillon adopts a more serious quality at its centre. The rapid and darting Toccata has considerable appeal and the Valse is another attractive piece that develops a fervent core. Rocking and undemanding, the Chanson Napolitaine evokes the motion of the gondola. The concluding Final is a dazzling and exuberant showpiece.
The next two collections comprise Études ( Studies). These are spacious, polished and appealing in style and at times strike the classical approach of Mendelssohn. The Six Études pour le Piano, op. 52 commence with an upbeat and extrovert Prélude. Titled Pour l'independance des doigts this is melodic and encompasses a sighing and romantic mood. A brisk and determined Prélude and Fugue in F minor is followed by the tricky Etude de rythme so movingly gentle and delicate with an almost pleading quality. The Prélude and Fugue in A major is very fine being both melodic and dramatic, The set culminates in the popular En forme de Valse, sweeping and scatty.
The closing set is the Six Études pour le Piano, op. 111. Opening the set is the short Tierces majeures et mineures which is big-boned and extrovert. Reminding me on occasions of Rimsky-Korsakov’s famous Flight of the Bumblebee is the rapid Traits chromatiques followed by the Prélude et Fugue notable for its broad and dramatic gestures. Saint-Saëns was a great lover of the sound of bells and wrote several bell-inspired scores. A repetitive piece Les Cloches de Las Palmas contains prominent bell-like figures that could easily be ringing out a warning to townsfolk. The attractive, penultimate and scurrying Tierces majeures chromatiques is only brief. To crown this collection comes the dramatic and boisterous Toccata d'après le cinquième concerto a title that refers to the finale of the Piano Concerto No. 5, op. 103 known as ‘ The Egyptian’ .
Korean pianist Mi-Joo Lee provides excellent playing with a beautiful tone drawn from her Steinway concert grand (model D). There were only a couple of minor examples of poor technicality otherwise the soloist was gloriously committed, fresh, confident and perceptive. Virtually everything that Saint-Saëns wrote is appealing and of high quality whilst not making any claims for these splendid and interesting scores to be classed as masterworks. They deserve a wider circulation.
-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International
Metanoia
J. S. Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier, Books 1 & 2
Denis Matsuev - Unknown Rachmaninoff
RACHMANINOFF Suite for Orchestra in d (for piano). Fugue in d. Études-tableaux, op. 39/2,6,9. Prelude in g, op. 23/5. Prelude in g?, op. 32/12. Piano Sonata No. 2 (1931) • Denis Matsuev (pn) • RCA 715591 (60:23)
This album is titled “Unknown Rachmaninoff”—and for most aficionados, the big news is the inclusion of two recently uncovered works apparently from 1891: a fugue written for a composition class with Arensky (actually, a longer version of the work previously published as the Piece in D Minor) and the composer’s own transcription of an orchestral suite long thought lost. Or, more accurately, the disc includes what’s claimed as the piano version of the Suite: certainly, the information we’re given in Marina Gaykovich’s notes doesn’t allay any initial doubts. The manuscript, missing its first page, identifies neither composer nor title; and all we’re told about the process of attribution is that “specialists [who?] managed to verify [how?] Rachmaninoff as the author and proved [how?] that it was the Suite.” I’m maintaining a healthy skepticism.
In any case, the Suite is a substantial work (nearly 20 minutes) most notable for its grand first movement. It sounds momentarily like a premonition of the C?-Minor Prelude, but it soon launches into a striving melodic surge with a surprising kinship to the first movement of the Paderewski Sonata. Lasting an extremely eventful eight minutes, the movement offers plenty of intricate inner voice activity, a great deal of attractive (if not especially Rachmaninoffian) melodic material, and consistent evidence of harmonic ingenuity. The three follow-ups are less engaging (the pseudo-Classical gestures of the third-movement minuet are particularly bland), but even here, the music offers splashes of interest—say, in the contrapuntal curls of the Lento or the outdoorsy spirit of the final Allegro. If the work is really by Rachmaninoff, the piece further confirms his early mastery of the keyboard (it certainly doesn’t sound like a transcription); if it’s by someone else, it’s someone else worth knowing. As for the so-called Fugue: largely written in two voices, it’s more of a toccata than a fugue; but whatever you call it, it’s fueled by bracing energy and dashes of harmonic spice.
It’s especially good to have this new material introduced by so persuasive an advocate as Denis Matsuev. As you might expect from a youthful firebrand whose first recording was called “Tribute to Horowitz,” virtuoso brilliance takes precedence over lyrical expression—but he’s far from cold, and he plays the Fugue and the Suite with the unflagging conviction usually reserved for masterpieces. The more familiar works are impressive too. Matsuev’s playing tends to be lean and angular, but he keeps the busiest passages from sounding cluttered (rarely has the passagework in the first movement of the Sonata emerged so cleanly), and he plays with plenty of rhythmic snap. Those who prefer their Rachmaninoff lush may, at times, feel a bit battered—Matsuev certainly pounces on every opportunity to crush you with reminders of his power (the Étude-tableau in D , op. 39/9 sounds particularly cataclysmic here). And it would be idle to pretend that his recording of the Sonata has the depth of Grimaud’s or that he matches the ebb and flow of Richter in the Preludes and in the Études-tableaux that he recorded. But given Matsuev’s premises, this is playing of a very high order; certainly, his reading of the Fugue is far more thrilling than, say, Biret’s or Shelley’s relatively anodyne recordings of the shorter version.
The recording was made on Rachmaninoff’s own Steinway at his villa in Senar, Switzerland—and the engineering is up-front and immediate. All in all, a significant release.
FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz
Grandes Pièces Symphoniques / Ian Tracey
The CD opens with a display piece which is much more than just display: the whole disc might well have been devised to demonstrate that there is much more to the great French organ tradition than just a mighty sound. Much of the music is quiet and reflective and the bravura works, like this Tournemire improvisation, have more to offer than glorious sound.
This is one of the improvisations which Tournemire recorded and which were subsequently transcribed by Duruflé. Tournemire insisted that improvisations could not and should not be recaptured but this Improvisation on the Te Deum is a fine piece, worthy of preservation. The CD notes attribute this work to L’Orgue mystique, a cycle of 51 pieces on Gregorian themes for the major festivals of the liturgical year but, whereas that work consists of improvisation-like pieces which Tournemire actually wrote down, the Te Deum improvisation was not written down until Duruflé’s labour of love in transcribing it 28 years later.
Duruflé’s transcription in Ian Tracey’s hands almost persuades one that one is hearing the actual process of improvisation, yet at the same time the playing is totally assured. The Liverpool organ may not be a Cavaillé-Coll, but it is a fine instrument.
Only careful listening identifies the plainsong tune of the Te Deum but that is part of the art of composing such pieces. Bach sometimes buries his chorale melodies fairly deeply in his preludes and Duruflé’s own music based on plainsong themes sometimes requires a deal of detective work. Try his Four motets on Gregorian themes, coupled with his own performance of his gorgeous, Fauré-inspired Requiem and his Mass Cum jubilo on Apex 2564 61139 2, a budget-price distillation of two Erato CDs which have long been in my collection.
The two short pieces by Bonnet which follow are fairly insubstantial but they make an excellent bridge between the display of the Tournemire and the Saint-Saëns improvisation, itself an exercise in virtuosity which receives a glorious free-wheeling performance from Tracey. There is very little Saint-Saëns organ music in the record catalogues; a performance like this reminds us that there is much more to him than The Carnival of the Animals, as I have pointed out in my recent review of two of his Piano Concertos. (Jean-Yves Thibaudet with the OSR under Charles Dutoit on Decca 475 8764).
The title of Franck’s Grande Pièce Symphonique, which is used as the generic name of the CD as a whole, implies employment of the big guns but, in fact, the dominant mood of this piece is restrained, with frequent markings of dolce, pp and even ppp. The opening andante serioso is subdued and reflective: Tracey captures the serioso mood here as well as the mood of the succeeding allegro section, faster but still no troppo e maestoso. The notes in the booklet compare the opening section to a processional but I was put more in mind of a hushed and expectant congregation awaiting the start of Vespers.
In the quiet and reflective andante opening of the second movement, too, the image conjured up is of the preparation for an important service – a role which Tracey, in his capacity at Liverpool Cathedral, will have performed many times. He captures all these quiet passages extremely effectively, especially in those sections marked cantando, and the recording registers every detail, with individual manual- and pedal-parts coming over very clearly. The Liverpool reverberation is kept to a minimum.
The finale also opens pp, but with a hint of a storm to come. When those bigger guns finally arrive, in the wonderful fugue and the concluding outburst of joy, they are all the more effective for having been kept so long in reserve – and for Franck’s retaining a considerable degree of restraint even when they do fire. This is certainly not a showpiece for the sake of mere show and Tracey shows admirable restraint where a lesser organist might well have gone overboard. These grander moments are also very well captured by the engineers, even in normal stereo. One is again aware of the resonance of the building without its ever interfering with the clarity of the recording.
Those seeking to expand their knowledge of Franck’s organ music will inevitably reduplicate the Grande pièce, albeit at bargain price and on French organs. Either Jennifer Bate on the Beauvais organ (Regis RRC2054) or Marie-Claire Alain on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Caen (Apex 2564 61428 2) will do very nicely. Both are 2-CD sets selling for around £9 in the UK.
The Gigout Scherzo provides a lighter, capricious moment before the Widor: delicacy of touch is paramount here and this Tracey very ably provides.
The Widor Symphony is not the one with the Toccata: that is No.5, already recorded in full by Tracey on CHAN9271. Listeners may welcome the chance to get away from that ubiquitous piece and at the same time hear another of his symphonies in its entirety: the Fourth Symphony is as good a piece as any to choose. Don’t expect these works, despite their title, to sound too symphonic: they are more like a suite than a symphony. Again Tracey’s chief rival in this work is Marie-Claire Alain’s authoritative account on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Saint Germain (Warner Elatus 2564 60341 2, at mid-price).
Franck left his big guns till the end of his Grande Pièce; the Widor Symphony does the opposite, starting with a fff marking at the beginning of the opening Toccata. This is a big movement – by definition a Toccata is designed to show off the player’s expertise in ‘touching’ the keys. (From Italian toccare, to touch.) Tracey makes the Toccata sound big without being entirely overwhelming and without setting off too much reverberation: if anything, I might have wanted him to sound just a little more ferocious. The Fugue begins quietly with the 16’ pedal tone which the score calls for held in restraint; the effect is ethereal.
The third movement, marked dolce, opens even more ethereally, with the pp organ barely audible. This is the best-known movement, often played as a separate piece. The booklet compares it to Daquin’s Noëls but, having recently reviewed an excellent Hyperion Helios reissue of the Noëls (CDH 55319) I have to say that the relationship is a distant one apart from the cantabile nature of the music, excellently captured by Tracey. The central section, written in four staves – i.e. with two sets of pedal parts – is fiendishly difficult but Tracey, with art that conceals art, makes it sound effortless.
The Scherzo and Adagio are again gentle movements, the pp opening of each setting the tone. The mood of the Adagio anticipates that of Fauré’s Requiem by twenty-one years. Tracey’s nimble playing in the Scherzo, his lighter touch in the Adagio and the recording are once more absolutely first class.
It is a mark of a fine recording not only that it captures the loudest moments without distortion but that it makes an equally good job of registering music on the threshold of hearing. The Chandos engineers score in both respects on this CD – just don’t try to play it in the car: the volume required for the quieter movements to register would place you in the head-bangers’ league in the louder movements.
The Finale begins fff, a marking which recurs at several points in the movement. The big guns are unleashed at the start but Widor is careful again not to make the effect too overwhelming and Tracey’s playing contributes to the comparative restraint, especially in the central part of this movement. The closing bars bring a confident conclusion to the work, confidently executed.
I have already indicated that the recording is first-class even in stereo. In SACD surround-format I am sure that the ambience of Liverpool Cathedral is perfectly captured, albeit without too much of the reverberation of this building.
I’m going for broke and nominating this my Recording of the Month. I cannot imagine a better place to start to get to know the French organ repertoire – unless it should be one of Ian Tracey’s other recordings in this series. Lovers of the genre should place their orders at once.
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Shostakovich Collection
IDENTITY
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)
Small Treasures
J.S. Bach, Brahms, Busoni & Reger: Inmost Heart
Arensky: Piano Music / Adam Neiman
ARENSKY 6 Pieces, op. 53; 4 Etudes, op. 41; 12 Etudes, op. 74; 6 Esquisses, “Près de la mer,” op. 52 • Adam Neiman (pn) • NAXOS 8.572233 (63:37)
Rimsky-Korsakov, writing in his Chronicles of My Musical Life , said that he believed his student Anton Arensky “will soon be forgotten.” Apart from a few compositions that are still performed today, among them the Variations on a Theme of Tchaikovsky, the D-Minor Piano Trio, and the suites for two pianos, most of Arensky’s works have suffered just that fate. Happily, some of these lesser-known works are being explored again, notably here, and in a field in which Arensky spent a good deal of his attention, the piano music.
All of the works on the present recital are similar in that they are all less than five minutes in length. If there is one strong point to Arensky’s compositional skills, it is that he is able to use this characteristic to his advantage to create mood quickly and effectively. Once Arensky has chosen the basic mood of the piece, there is a fundamental continuity of mood that exists until the end. But though many of the lyrical pieces make pleasant listening, most of the melodic material is forgettable. That said, there are beautifully conceived moments, in which Arensky’s attention to details of figuration brings much interest to the pieces. One such moment can be found in the lyrical D-Major Etude of op. 74, with its static sense of waterfall-like arpeggiations. The grand dotted rhythms of the French overture-like prelude (minus the fugue) in the op. 53 set is yet another. Adam Neiman is a good advocate for much of this repertoire, as he possesses the technical prowess necessary to play these pieces, and a feeling for tonal shading and breath. The lighter pieces (the Scherzo, also in the op. 53 set, for example) suffer perhaps a bit from heavy-handedness, but not so much as to disturb the generally playful character that he brings to the music.
This is not essential listening, but it is enlightening to hear a composition every once in a while that reminds one of the next generation of Russian composers, in particular Arensky’s own students—both Rachmaninoff and Scriabin being among them. Recorded in excellent sound, on a Fazioli grand piano, Neiman makes this music sound as good as any I’ve heard. The repertoire is specialized but the price is right. Recommended for those, then, who particularly like Russian music, or who want to delve deeper into their understanding of the roots of 20th-century Russian music.
FANFARE: Scott Noriega
Duarte: Works for Solo Guitar / Nati
Duarte’s Partita was completed in 1974. It’s a substantial work in four movements, using all original material. As in the Variations on a Theme of Štepan Rak he adopts a four-note motif, which may be heard forwards, backwards, inverted and stretched. Variations on an Italian Folk Song Op. 139 was written in 2000. It draws on the second movement, “Canzona”, of Duarte’s prior Suite piemontese, which was based on a combination of two tunes: Il testamento dell’avvelenato and Re Gilardin. This gentle theme is characterised by simple movements of a step or a fourth. The six variations all begin with this stepwise movement but they quickly gain individual characters. Valse lyrique (2000) is one of the three short dances Duarte wrote late in his career. The second theme, clearly derived from the first, includes some hemiolas as well as combined harmonics and natural notes. The central section features the melody in the bass. Valse en rondeau was written in 1997 for the American guitarist David Starobin. Duarte stated: “I decided to make reference to my origin as a jazz musician and to my interest in early music (the Rondeau form) and to exercise my unshakeable belief in melody.” The origin of the Variations on a Theme of Štepan Rak Op. 100 is unique. In 1984, Rak was staying with Duarte when Vladimir Mikulka performed a lunchtime concert in London. At the end of the concert, Mikulka announced that he was going to perform an unusual encore – a theme, but without variations that had yet to be written. Afterwards he announced that Rak, Koshkin and Duarte should exchange themes with each other to create six new variation works, and he presented Duarte with Rak’s theme on a piece of manuscript paper. Andres Segovia, a supreme Anglophile, married his third wife in Gibraltar (“under the British flag, on Spanish soil”), and their son was born in London. Duarte’s 3 Songs without Words for Carlos Andres were a present to the happy couple. Danza eccentrica (2000) was dedicated to the Italian guitarist Domenico Lafasciano with the note, “Here is your dance. It may not be what you expected, but it’s what I’ve written – not another ‘cloned’ rumba, tango, waltz or whatever, but something with more individual character.” The unexpected aspects include dissonant harmonies, bass notes which move in ¾ against the treble in 6/8 and sections more reminiscent of a hurdy-gurdy. The Italian guitarist Angelo Gilardino wrote to Duarte about his Fantasia and Fugue on Torre Bermeja Op. 30: “…the melodic and rhythmic feeling is of the sort to easily produce the fascination of the public”. The Torre Bermeja in question is the piano piece by Isaac Albeniz, Op. 92 No. 12. Although it carries Op. 62 (1974) on its cover, the little Prelude en arpèges was written in 1954/5 and intended as the first movement of a Harp Suite Op. 18 that was never completed.
Shostakovich: 24 Preludes And Fugues Op 87 / Scherbakov

Konstantin Scherbakov's 24 Shostakovich Preludes and Fugues leapfrog to the head of a small yet distinguished class on disc, whose valedictorians include Tatiana Nikolaeva and Vladimir Ashkenazy. Time and again I am struck by expressive and textural novelties that inevitably result from Scherbakov's fastidious adherence to Shostakovich's markings. The pianist connects the A minor Prelude's scurrying 16th-notes with a seamless legato that still manages to allow each one to speak softly. He treats the D major Prelude's right-hand arpeggiated chords in a slightly detached manner in order to offset the left hand's cello-like legato line. In the F-sharp minor Fugue Scherbakov takes special care to differentiate the levels of soft dynamics. He maintains Fugue No. 15's marcatissimo directive with unyielding vehemence, while effortlessly clarifying the difficult-to-disentangle voices.
Those familiar with Nikolaeva's freer treatment of the 16th fugue's elaborate subject will be surprised at the profile and contrast it acquires when played in strict time, as Scherbakov does. As a result, the uneven duplets truly stand out from the even ones. On the other hand, the 14th Prelude's tremolos sometimes threaten to cover the melodic material. Here both Nikolaeva and the composer relegate these tremolos to a spooky background murmur, and make more of the motto theme's tenutos. And Scherbakov sometimes plays down Shostakovich's edgy humor. Yet these quibbles are about aesthetic choices, not interpretive faults, and really don't matter in the larger context of Scherbakov's achievement. His interpretations are thought out, deeply pondered, prepared to the nth degree, and played with a perfect fusion of technique and soul. Even listeners who consider these works arid and somewhat pedantic will change their minds after hearing Scherbakov. A triumph.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com