Search results: Search results
923 results
Products
-
-
-
Shapeshifter - Music of Erwin Schulhoff / Conlon, Artists of the Colburn School
Delos · Oct 2022CD$18.99 -
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Thomas Jensen Legacy vol. 11 / Schiøler, Telmányi, Jensen, Royal Danish Orchestra et al.
Danacord · Jul 2022CD$18.99 -
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
SaleNielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4 / Gilbert, New York Philharmonic
Dacapo Classical · Sep 2014SACD$16.99$8.49 -
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Shapeshifter - Music of Erwin Schulhoff / Conlon, Artists of the Colburn School
The powerful and amazingly varied music of Czech composer Erwin Schulhoff, whose art was suppressed by the Nazi regime and who died in captivity in 1942, is given stirring performances by brilliant young players from the Colburn School, Los Angeles’ elite conservatory. James Conlon, world-renowned conductor and LA Opera music director, leads the RVC Ensemble in Schulhoff’s Piano Concerto, Op. 43, with Dominic Cheli as soloist. Four other pieces — all strong and unique —complete the album’s offerings, which span the years between 1923 and 1937. Cheli and violinist Adam Millstein are particularly outstanding contributors.
While Schulhoff’s music has been gradually emerging from near-total obscurity in recent years, Shapeshifter is especially notable as the first album-length example of his works being taken up by American musicians of classical’s ascendant “next generation.” We at Delos hope the album sparks increased interest in Schulhoff among younger players and their audiences. The project is intimately connected to the Ziering-Conlon Initiative for Recovered Voices, which encourages greater awareness and more frequent performances of music by composers whose careers and lives were disrupted or ended during the years of the Nazi regime in Europe. The Recovered Voices initiative was established at the Colburn School in 2013.
REVIEWS:
The Piano Concerto is a unified work with integrity and a strict formal structure. In each of the three movements, it explores romanticism with a touch of impressionism, and nods to modernism and jazz. The latter is particularly prominent in the Allegro alla jazz finale, where Schulhoff calls for an 18-piece percussion section that includes cog rattle, cowbell, sleigh bells, castanets, tambourine and siren. Foxtrot and Romany music lead towards a riotous conclusion, but not before a magical sostenuto section.
The Five Pieces for string quartet, dedicated to Darius Milhaud, can be construed as a “dance suite” which nods towards the Baroque models. A work of this vitality ought to be in the standard repertoire of all string quartet ensembles.
In the Suite for piano left hand, the listener is left marveling at the technical brilliance of the soloist being able to play this music with his left hand alone. At nearly 19 minutes, it is too long for an encore, but it does deserve its place in the recital room.
In the period when Schulhoff wrote the Violin Sonata No. 2, he was often influenced by jazz. Yet, it is Bartók and Berg that are the obvious models here. Adam Millstein and Dominic Cheli’s performance points up the virtuosity and brilliance of the piece.
The final number is Susi. This short “cocktail bar” piano piece is a sheer delight. It would seem to be a transcription of a song. Written when Schulhoff was exploring Socialist Realism and implementing the diktats of Marxist ideology, it is surely decadent. But one must recall that he was also earning money as “one half of a piano duo”. Susi is full of nostalgia and, possibly, regret.
I have noted the superb performances of all this music. The outstanding liner notes include biographical information, analysis, and details of the performers. The recording reflects the vibrancy of this repertoire.
This disc makes a great introduction to the achievement of an unjustifiably less well-known composer, although in recent years his music has been making a comeback on the recording scene. This release is worth the price for the stunning performance of the Concerto alone. Everything else is a wonderful bonus. I need to hear more of Erwin Schulhoff’s music.
-- MusicWeb International
This album offers mainly chamber music, but with the concerto for piano and small orchestra also a work in larger instrumentation. The album, performed by instrumentalists and thus also soloists of the Colburn School, not only demonstrates Schulhoff’s versatility, but above all his variability in the use of means, such as jazz and other influences, as well as his humor, for example when he forces the waltz into a limping march beat and at the same time still mixes the waltz of high society with a Ländler. Illuminating is also the versatility of styles and characters in the 5 Pieces for string quartet, which shows the alert mind of this composer. These works, especially from the period after his return to Prague in 1923, also provide an opportunity to perceive the energy of this idiosyncratic musical voice.
The young artists specialize in the music of ostracized musicians of the last century. The coordinating hand is James Conlon, tireless despite his numerous activities, who also successfully conducted the concert.
In addition to the above-mentioned aspects, it is noticeable in all performances that the musicians wonderfully succeed in extracting the vibrant energy from the music and transforming it into rousing sounds. Each piece sounds like a freshly created work.
-- Pizzicato
The Secret Of Dvorak's Cello Concerto / Vogler, Et Al
Jan Vogler is a young cellist from Berlin who studied with Peter Vogler, Josef Schwab, and Heinrich Schiff. He became principal cellist of the Dresden Staastkapelle at the age of 20, leaving in 1997 to pursue a solo career. His instrument is a 1712 Joseph filius Andrea Guarneri. He has a major reputation in Europe—he won the German equivalent of a Grammy Award as Best Instrumentalist of 2002—and several recent appearances in New York have drawn favorable reviews. He appears as soloist on 15 Berlin Classics CDs; his 2003 Korngold and Barber concertos, with Thomas Sanderling and the Saarbrücken Radio Symphony, cut much of the saccharine and raise those works well above mere respectability. This is his third recording for Sony, following a disc of works by Richard Strauss (Don Quixote and Romance for Cello and Orchestra with Staastkapelle Dresden, plus the Cello Sonata) and one of the Fauré and Schumann piano quintets with Louis Lortie. Neither has ever been available in America.
Angelica Kirchschlager is the latest in the series of great mezzo-sopranos of our era. She has a seamless, easily produced voice, faultless technique that never draws attention to itself, and great feeling for many musical styles. It speaks well of her confidence that she agreed to play second fiddle on this disc. Her Gypsy Songs (sung in German) are so fine that I wish she had sung all seven, but Mr. Vogler’s playing is equally wonderful. Mr. Deutsch gets to show his stuff in the brilliant, complex accompaniments, Foster not having offered him much of a challenge.
Having disposed of the hors d’oeuvres, we can now attack the main course. After the opening phrase, the Cello Concerto’s orchestral introduction is so high-spirited that one wonders if a cello will be able to match it. In the second theme, Philip Myers’s solo horn (the Philharmonic’s full roster appears in the booklet) could wring tears from a stone. The cello entrance is equally strong; Vogler’s lean, clean sonority shines through. Throughout the performance, the athletic side of the music is to the fore; emotion is not short-changed, but the work never falls prey to the over-ripe sentimentality common to most recordings. A best single word to describe this performance would be invigorating. The obvious comparison is with Yo-Yo Ma, playing with the same orchestra in the same hall, for the same label. It’s not that Vogler is a better cellist (only God and Feuermann?), but he has an exuberant personal style, as does conductor David Robertson; they throw themselves into the music wholeheartedly. Ma’s playing is more inhibited—no, that’s not quite the right word—more self contained. His conductor Kurt Masur fits the same mold, being a product of conservative German musical tradition.
The recorded sound is gorgeous. The recording took place in Avery Fisher Hall on December 6, 2004; the orchestra kindly allowed me to attend the morning session (the first movement), and the troublesome venue never sounded so rich and alive. With no audience (I was surrounded by 2,741 empty seats) nor any artificial damping materials, as were used at some Columbia sessions in the Bernstein era, the music surged through the hall, vibrant and forceful. On the recording, ff climaxes do turn slightly hard, a common fault of this hall, but that’s a minor blemish on an otherwise stunning achievement. Vogler’s lean, forward tone makes its presence felt at all times, as it did in the hall, so it does not depend on electronic assistance. Kudos to producer Andreas Neubronner! After 50 minutes of rehearsal and audio adjustments, the opening Allegro was set down in one complete take and another broken into three sections. One wishes Sony had issued an SACD recording here; why is it no longer supporting its own medium? Vogler’s aforementioned Don Quixote is a Sony surround-sound hybrid SCAD “only available outside the US market,” according to www.highfidelity.net.
This CD bears the title: “The Secrets of Dvo?ák’s Cello Concerto,” which relates to two interviews in the program notes between Michael Beckerman, chair of New York University’s Department of Music and a specialist in Czech music, and cellist Jan Vogler. They do explore some interesting areas and provide some valuable information, but I find most of it to be hype, pursuing the question of whether the death of Dvo?ák’s love Josefina Kounicová (whose sister Anna he married, à la Mozart) has relevance to our understanding of the Cello Concerto. Here’s a basic point on which I disagree: Beckerman writes “Telling musical stories in one way or another was Dvo?ák’s stock in trade at this time in his career” (the Cello Concerto followed the “New World” Symphony, was contemporary with his final two quartets, in G Major and AI Minor, and preceded the four tone poems after Erben ballads). The statement is too vague and too hedged to contradict, but I feel it misrepresents the composer, and the following 16 pages of argument are based on it. If we examine Dvo?ák’s œuvre, most observers agree that his best works are his instrumental and orchestral ones, not his operas, which, in spite of containing much wonderful music, fail just because he was not much of a story teller. His lovely songs depend primarily on their luscious melodies. The Cello Concerto speaks to me as an instrumental and orchestral masterpiece, and to hell with its composer’s love life. Those interviews form the entire program notes, their 17 pages denying us a single word of song texts. If Dvo?ák was such a story teller, why not let us read some of his stories? Texts would have been especially welcome for the songs played by the cello. Perhaps what I dislike most is Sony’s view that every disc these days must have an Album Concept, as if Dvo?ák, Jan Vogler, and the New York Philharmonic were not enough.
Arkivmusic.com lists 102 entries under Dvo?ák’s Cello Concerto, by 38 soloists; many are duplications and/or reissues, so the number of performances is probably about 50. I’ve heard perhaps half that many, and this new one is my favorite. It should not be a serious collector’s only recording, of course; I’ve kept at least seven others: Casals/Szell (pace Bernard Jacobson), Starker/Dorati, Rostropovich/Talich, Ma/Masur, and three Feuermanns.
FANFARE: James H. North
Haydn: Keyboard Concertos / Müller-brühl, Hoeren, Haugsand
HAYDN Organ Concertos: in C, Hob XVIII:1,8,10. Harpsichord Concertos: in C, Hob XVIII:5; in F, Hob XVIII:7 • Helmut Müller-Brühl, cond; Harald Hoeren (org); Ketil Gaugsand (hpd); Cologne CO • NAXOS 8.570486 (72:46)
These early concertos—from the 1750s, although some were revised in the 1760s—were written to be played by either organ or harpsichord, which is why this disc is entitled “Keyboard Concertos.” In Brilliant Classics’s recent 150-CD “Haydn Edition,” all five of these works were played on an organ. The music is conventional, having elements both Baroque and rococo, but it is still Haydn, which means spirit and quality as well as competence. The only lack is individuality; I would hate to face a blind audition of each movement—especially if you switched solo instruments. These performances are also conventional, too much so. The modern-instrument band produces very little color, and less variety of it. Bland, tubby recorded sound reinforces that feeling; trumpets in the C-Major pieces are barely noticeable, and drumbeats are little more than extra reverberances. By contrast, Brilliant’s period-instrument Ensemble Dolce Risonanza produces vibrant colors and violent explosions. The tables are turned with the soloists, however; Brilliant’s Anton Holzapfel can hardly get a note in edgewise among all those dolce risonanzas, whereas both Hoeren and Gaugsand take the lead when called upon and give imaginative, well-rounded performances. The best things here are the Allegro finales, which are taken at spirited, upbeat tempos.
This disc is in no way necessary, but you’re sure to enjoy it.
FANFARE: James H. North
Mozart: Late Piano Trios / Kungsbacka Piano Trio
MOZART Piano Trios: Nos. 4–6; in D, K 442 (compl. Stadler) • Kungsbacka Pn Tr • NAXOS 8.570519 (76: 42)
This may well be the shortest entry I’ve ever submitted; for assuming that my review of Volume 1 of the Kungsbacka’s Mozart piano trios appeared in the 32:5 issue, there’s little to add. The current Volume 2 completes this ensemble’s run of Mozart’s six official trios for violin, cello, and piano, filling out the disc with an additional three-movement trio cobbled together by the Abbé Maximilian Stadler from fragmentary odds and ends that were probably intended for other pieces.
To restate what I said in my previous review, “The Kungsbacka Trio is a modern-instruments ensemble, but it plays stylishly and tastefully. Translation: articulation is crisp, vibrato is minimal, tempos are spirited in allegro movements and forward moving in andante movements, open strings are not avoided, and first movement exposition repeats are taken. For those who don’t already have one or more versions of these trios in their collections and/or who are not uncompromising advocates for period instruments, the Kungsbacka Trio can be recommended for very fine playing, and Naxos’s recording, at a price that can’t be beat, is excellent.”
Now that this cycle is complete, it definitely vies for equal favor with other preferred versions by the Florestan, Parnassus, and Gryphon Trios. And at budget price, it possibly edges them out slightly. Strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
John Barbirolli: Complete RCA & Columbia Album Collection
The young John Barbirolli was hardly known in America when the New York Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra chose him to be Arturo Toscanini’s successor starting in 1937. The 36-year-old Londoner’s first season was a triumph with both players and audiences, and although his years in New York would be increasingly marred by unfair rivalry with Toscanini – lured back to lead a specially created NBC Symphony – and by partisan hostility from two influential critics, Barbirolli’s tenure can now be looked back on as a real success.
From 1938 until 1943, when he returned to the UK to take over Manchester’s Hallé Orchestra, Sir John made a series of recordings in New York for American Columbia and RCA Victor which are still essential for a full appreciation of this revered conductor’s career, “performances that are as competitive today as they were when initially released” (Fanfare). Sony Classical is pleased to reissue them in a newly remastered six-CD set.
Among the treasures here are Debussy’s Iberia and Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini (both recorded in 1938) and the first-ever recording of Schubert’s Fourth (“Tragic”) Symphony (from 1939), together cited by Gramophone as “a demonstration that the Philharmonic-Symphony had few rivals in the world at the time as a recording orchestra … A forceful, high-powered reading [of the symphony] which yet has a Schubertian smile … The crisp attack in the Tchaikovsky, even tauter than in Barbirolli’s superb 1969 HMV New Philharmonia version, is thrillingly caught. The Debussy brings the most vivid sound of all, weighty and full of presence, with castanets and brass leaping out from the speakers. This is a white-hot performance, every bit as exciting as those of Toscanini, and with a moving vein of tenderness in the slow second movement.”
There are several works by Mozart, among them the Clarinet Concerto with Benny Goodman (from 1940) and the Symphony No. 25 and Piano Concerto No. 27 with Robert Casadesus (both from 1941). The Piano Concerto’s opening Allegro “is beautifully shaped with an almost palpable sense of wonder in the music and the pianist is definitely having a ball of time,” said Classical Net. “The final Allegro is also very commendable for its grand sense of pomp and majesty … The exquisite symphony also receives wonderful attention and care from Barbirolli and the NYPSO. Here one can sense the conductor's love for Mozart’s inspired melodies … Benny Goodman is a characterful interpreter of the Clarinet Concerto.”
“The generous flavor of Barbirolli’s Brahms comes through in the Academic Festival Overture and the Second Symphony [both from 1940],” wrote Audiophile Audition’s reviewer. “The Overture is rife with ceremonial grandeur and jolly spirits. The D major Symphony has a debonair airiness and bucolic relaxation about it.” And Sibelius’s First Symphony (from 1942) “should delight fans of Barbirolli’s 1960s complete traversal of the symphonies … The conductor’s warmth, vision, and emotional urgency has lost none of its appeal in the more than half century that has passed” (Fanfare).
Also from 1942 is Nathan Milstein playing the Bruch Concerto with “the Philharmonic-Symphony in tremendous form,” exclaimed MusicWeb International’s critic. “Barbirolli opens powerfully and Milstein responds in kind; not over emoted and with vibrato perfectly scaled to the demands of the music. He is really quite withdrawn and introspective in the Adagio, powerfully so indeed, and Barbirolli brings out the horn harmonies in a way that seems to reveal them for the first time. There is romantic fervour but also passagework clarity and digital cleanliness in the finale … a model of concerto accompaniment and creative collaboration.”
CONTENTS
DISC 1:
Purcell (arr. Barbirolli): Suite for Strings, Woodwind and Horns (Remastered)
Debussy: Images pour orchestre, L. 122: No. 2, Iberia (Remastered)
Tchaikovsky: Francesca da Rimini, Op. 32 (Remastered)
Respighi: Antiche danze et arie per liuto, Suite No.3 (Remastered)
Respighi: Fontane di Roma (Remastered)
DISC 2:
Schubert: Symphony No. 4 in C Minor, D. 417, "Tragic" (Remastered)
Schubert: 5 German Dances, D. 89 (Remastered)
Brahms: Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 73 (Remastered)
DISC 3:
Sibelius: Symphony No. 1 in E Minor, Op. 39 (Remastered)
Sibelius: Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 43 (Remastered)
DISC 4:
Smetana: The Bartered Bride, JB 1:100: Overture (Remastered)
Rimsky-Korsakov: Capriccio espagnol, Op. 34 (Remastered) with Mishel Piastro, violin & Joseph Schuster, cello
Ravel: La valse, M. 72 (Remastered)
Berlioz: Roman Carnival Overture, Op. 9 (Remastered)
Brahms: Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80 (Remastered)
Debussy: Petite Suite, L. 65, No. 4 "Ballet" (Remastered)
Debussy: Première rhapsodie, L. 116 (Remastered) with Benny Goodman, clarinet
Bach, J.S. (arr. Barbirolli): Sheep May Safely Graze, BWV 208, No. 9 (Remastered)
DISC 5:
Mozart: Clarinet Concerto in A Major, K. 622 with Benny Goodman, clarinet
Mozart: Piano Concerto No. 27 in B-Flat Major, K. 595 (Remastered) with Robert Casadesus, piano
Mozart: Symphony No. 25 in G Minor, K. 183 (Remastered)
DISC 6:
Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 26 (Remastered) with Nathan Milstein, violin
Tchaikovsky: Suite No. 3 in G Major, Op. 55: IV. Tema con variazioni. Andante con moto (Remastered)
Various (arr. Barbirolli): An Elizabethan Suite (Remastered)
-----
REVIEW:
It is surely no coincidence that this retrospective set is released in the 50th anniversary year of Sir John Barbirolli’s death. It focuses on almost all – but not quite all – of Barbirolli’s recordings with his Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra of New York, here updated to ‘New York Philharmonic’. The missing item is the Schumann Violin Concerto with Menuhin, the rights of which now lie with Warner. The inclusion of Bach's Sheep May Safely Graze is very welcome here, and as Leonard Slatkin showed in his Bach ‘Conductors’ Transcriptions’ album, it’s a most effective and affecting piece of work.
The first of the six well-filled discs disinters Barbirolli’s arrangements of Purcell. The six-movement Suite proves memorably sonorous and full bloodied with highlights being Fairest Isle and When I am Laid in Earth. This is followed by a splendidly recorded and vividly played Iberia with the Victor engineers on top form, and Francesca da Rimini. Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome and the Arie di corte from the Ancient Airs and Dances are similarly charged.
The Schubert Fourth on Disc 2 - the first recording of the work ever made - is tremendously impressive: powerful, lyrical, excellently controlled. Brahms’ Second Symphony however is exceptionally fast – not a criticism that could ever be levelled at the older JB – and if one thinks that Monteux in San Francisco in 1945 was fleetness itself that would be to reckon without Barbirolli. The Allegretto is uncomfortable to listen to and in fact the whole performance is unconvincing on a number of levels.
Sibelius comes to the rescue in disc three where there are memorable recordings of the First Symphony (1942) and the Second (1940). Sibelius was a known Barbirolli strength but his tempi in the 1950s with the Hallé are predictably more driven than those he took in the following decade. If sound quality is king then the Hallé recordings from the 60s are preferable but interpretively the 1957 First and the 1952 Second – along with the famous RPO Second – are indispensable, along with these two New York recordings.
The fourth CD is a bits-and-pieces affair. There’s lusty Smetana, a brightly recorded but idiomatically played Rimsky Capriccio espagnole, and La Valse which faced predictably strong competition on disc from Munch and Monteux. If the string tone in Le Carnaval romain is a touch acidic, the Academic Festival Overture is more rounded, and the performance a strong B plus. Benny Goodman joins for a timbrally distinctive Debussy First Rhapsody. There’s more Goodman in the penultimate disc where he plays Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto. Casadesus and Barbirolli make a fine team in Mozart’s Concerto No. 27. Symphony No.25 completes this all-Mozart disc; athletic, youthful and vibrant.
Nathan Milstein’s excellent Bruch G minor heads the final disc and whilst the recording is not top-drawer, Milstein’s playing is. Tchaikovsky’s Tema con variazioni from the Orchestral Suite No.3 is slightly cut. Finally, we end with Barbirolli’s An Elizabethan Suite, his arrangements of Byrd, Farnaby, and Bull, a synchronous way to end given that the first piece of the first disc was his Purcell arrangement.
Each disc is housed in a retro, 78rpm album sleeve and the booklet is filled with 78 and subsequent LP sleeves – very colourful and tactile – as well as job and recording sheets from the sessions and black and white photographs of Barbirolli.
This box is a finely produced and concentrated focus on Barbirolli’s New York shellac years and comes with a fair-minded, level-headed booklet note from James H North.
– MusicWeb International (Jonathan Woolf)
Maurice Ravel - Ses amis et ses interprets
The three finest recordings of Ravel's string quartet I have heard are the one the Galimir String Quartet recorded in 1934, the one Galimir recorded in 1983 for Vanguard, and this performance from 1927 by the International String Quartet approved in all its particulars by Ravel and, chronologically, the first to be committed to discs. There are some intonation problems from cellist Herbert Withers in the third movement and the surfaces are not silent, but the fervor and the depth of emotional involvement are such as to override such reservations.
Ravel himself preferred the Pavane to be taken very slowly—as Koussevitzky recorded it in 1947—but Pierné's performance from 1929 was the slowest to appear during the composer's lifetime. Albert Wolff's recording of La Valse, while not the equal of later performances by Monteux and Ansermet, certainly can hold its own among them and its sheer elegance and poetry manifest the gentle approach the composer preferred. There is sufficient Ravel material to fill yet another compact disc and we can hope it will appear in time. William Malloch who did the transfers for this release also wrote the exemplary notes.
-- Jon Tuska, FANFARE [3/1993]
Holmboe: String Quartets, Vol. 1 / Nightingale String Quartet
-----
REVIEW:
Vagn Holmboe’s 20 numbered string quartets constitute one of the 20th century’s most substantial and rewarding bodies of work in the genre. Collectors have come to know these compositions largely through the Kontra Quartet’s complete recorded cycle on Dacapo. The label now launches a new Holmboe project with the young Nightingale Quartet, whose Rued Langgaard quartet cycle set reference standards. In every way they match the Kontra’s technical polish, ensemble discipline, and textual integrity. Yet their interpretations sometimes differ.
For example, the Nightingale’s leaner spelling out of the gorgeously dense chords in the third-movement introduction of the First quartet contrasts to the Kontra’s massive and fuller-bodied impact. On the other hand, the second movement’s slithery Presto passages gain from the Nightingale’s faster tempo and lighter articulation.
Although the Third quartet’s five-movement “arch” form (slow-fast-moderate-fast-slow) owes an obvious debt to Bartók’s own Third quartet, Holmboe’s somewhat sunnier harmonic language goes its own way. It’s a toss-up between the Kontra’s intensely expansive, dynamically varied opening Lento and the Nightingale’s cooler temperament, brisker pace, and precisely calibrated attacks and releases. Some listeners may prefer the Nightingale’s supple scampering in the Allegro assai to the Kontra’s slightly heavier reading, yet the latter’s broader tempo allows the occasional “droning” bass lines to resonate more effectively.
My colleague David Hurwitz describes Holmboe’s late quartets as more complex but also more personal and concentrated, and that’s especially true of his three-movement No. 15. The Kontra’s slower unfolding of the fourth-movement introduction conveys a sense of mystery and otherworldliness that I feel digs deeper than the Nightingale’s drier reserve. But once the Allegro kicks in, the Nightingale’s gaunter, crisper approach better enlivens Holmboe’s knotty contrapuntal writing.
If this first volume is any indication, the Nightingale Quartet Holmboe cycle will complement rather than supersede the Kontra Quartet, and that’s all to our advantage. And to Holmboe’s advantage, of course!
– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)
Thomas Jensen Legacy vol. 11 / Schiøler, Telmányi, Jensen, Royal Danish Orchestra et al.
A pair of great Danish pianists and celebrated violinists contribute to a wide-ranging program, which demonstrates Thomas Jensen’s versatility and command of his orchestras in both pillars of the repertoire by Grieg and Tchaikovsky, and a stirring but unfamiliar piano-concerto movement by the Dane August Winding. Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegelis new to the Jensen discography: a stunning live performance from 1952, newly remastered from the original tapes. This collection brings together live DRSO broadcasts from the 1950s and the 1960swith earlier gramophone recordings, made before Jensen’s DRSO tenure when he was principal conductor of the Aarhus Civic Orchestra (documented on Volume 8 of the series.)
Review:
It’s fortunate – and generous – of Danacord to offer their twofers ‘as for one’ as of late they have been engaged in wholesale reshuffling of their packs.
The only previously unissued item in CD1 is August Winding’s Concert Allegro, preformed by Boris Linderud (1915-95) in 1960. This fluid rhapsodic piece is cast in a Schumannesque mould with plenty of right-hand filigree. The only non-studio live performance on CD2 is Strauss’ Till Eulenspiegel, in a very competent 1952 reading in the characteristic acoustic of Denmark’s Radio Concert Hall. The remainder of the programme is largely given over to the violin repertoire on the Tono label, played by the country’s then leading player, Emil Telmányi, between 1947 and 1951. He plays Sarasate’s Zigeunerweisen with plenty of slides but also a sure awareness of style. You will find the Introduction and Rondo capriccioso on DACOCD851 where you’ll also find recordings made by Telmányi’s great teacher, Hubay – the recording Telmányi made of Hubay’s Hejre Kati in that disc is a later one than the 1947 Tono here, which features his Chamber Orchestra and offers a less successful accompaniment.
Svendsen’s Romance is in the secure hands of Carlo Andersen in his famous 1939 HMV recording which must have sold by the bucketload as it always turns up on record lists to this day. It’s a valuable snapshot of Andersen’s playing as he only ever recorded a couple of pieces by Lumbye so far as I’m aware. Finally, there’s Tchaikovsky’s ‘1812’, spread across four 78 sides, recorded a few days after the Introduction and Rondo capriccioso. Nothing unduly odd happens in the ‘1812’ – strong, decisive conducting and well recorded. Till is newly remastered, and everything comes up sounding good.
--MusicWeb International (Jonathan Woolf)
The Scriabin Dynasty
Fiery And Sublime: The Sources Of Quantz's Inspiration
The booklet note to this CD, by Brian Berryman, leader of La Ricordanza, tells us that one of Quantz’s obituarists (unnamed), described his flute-playing as “learned, fiery and sublime”. When Charles Burney met the elderly Quantz in Berlin, an encounter he reported in The Present State of Music in Germany, the Netherlands, and United Provinces (1773), he liked the man, describing him as “an intelligent man”, who “talks well concerning music”. He added, however, that “talking and composing are different things” and confessed to finding his music “frequently common and insipid”. “Fiery and sublime” or “common and insipid”?
There certainly isn’t anything here that seems worthy of the epithet “sublime”; perhaps the German “erhaben” has other overtones of which I am ignorant? Nor would I want to dismiss any of Quantz’s work on this disc as “common” or “insipid”. “Fiery”, however, wouldn’t be too bad a description of some of the writing - and here, some of the playing - in the fast outer movements of the two pieces by Quantz which are played with great vitality by La Ricordanza. Those two pieces are coupled with one each by four other composers: Leclair, C.P.E. Bach, Johann Gottlieb Graun and Michel Blavet. Samples of their work are here because one of the aims of the disc is to illustrate what its subtitle describes as “the sources of Quantz’s inspiration”.
Quantz was one those composers who achieved something more-or-less individual through synthesis rather than through startling originality. The point is implicit in something else that Burney says about Quantz, in comments based both on his conversations with the composer and on Quantz’s own Memoirs. Burney records how Quantz had benefited from his friendship with Johann Georg Pisendel. “Pisendel”, writes Burney, “had in his youth been taught to sing by the famous Pistocchi [one of the great castrati], and had received instructions on the violin, from Torelli; however, having travelled through France and Italy, where he had acquired the peculiarities in the taste of both countries, he so blended them together as to form a third genus, or mixed style of writing and playing, which was half French and half Italian. Influenced by his example, Quantz declares, that he always preferred the compound style, to the national one, or that of his own country”. Quantz himself made a kind of musical Grand Tour between 1724 and 1727, visiting Italy, France, England and the Netherlands, learning acquisitively along the way – he certainly encountered Blavet in Paris in 1726 and Leclair in Turin in the same year; Graun and C.P.E. Bach he knew, naturally, in Berlin.
The concerto by Quantz which opens the disc - and of which this is the first ever recording - has some fair Italianate fire in its opening allegro di molto and its closing vivace di molto, both movements played with appropriate panache by Brian Berryman, very well supported by the remaining members of La Ricordanza. The intervening movement, marked ‘Grave ma con affetto’ makes one feel sure that Quantz had listened to some of the strikingly expressive music of the younger C.P.E. Bach. Quantz’s Sonata in C major - if it is by Quantz, there being some doubt about the attribution - is unusual in its use of both transverse flute and recorder as solo instruments. It is an attractive and engaging piece, in which the brilliant articulation of the recorder contrasts effectively with the softer, broader tone of the flute. At times it sounds like a version of the frequently claimed antithesis between the vivacity of the Italian manner and the more sentimental idiom of the French!
Graun’s Concerto for recorder is amiable enough without making any very striking or, I suspect, memorable impression on the listener. Burney, evidently in a grumpy mood, dismissed Graun’s compositions as “languid” – and this isn’t, it has to be said, one of the compositions one would call as evidence in rebuttal of the charge. There’s no danger of sublimity here or, indeed, of very much fire. I suspect that Annette Berryman makes about as much as can reasonably be made of the piece. The Sonata by Leclair is altogether more interesting, not least for the beautiful Sarabande which forms its brief third movement and for the inventive allegro assai which follows it. Blavet’s Concerto is an interesting piece, its outer movements thoroughly Italianate and each involving a technically demanding cadenza both of which Brian Berryman negotiates admirably. The central slow movement is made up of two gavottes, in which the musical inflections are just as thoroughly French.
The Trio Sonata by C.P.E. Bach effectively steals the show. Report has it that it was first written when the composer was seventeen, before being revised around 1747 when Bach was in his early thirties, in Berlin alongside Quantz and Graun. The music takes more risks than Quantz or Graun were ever willing to take and, both melodically and harmonically it speaks with a greater individuality than either of the senior Berlin composers could regularly achieve. This isn’t just a matter of Bach being more stylistically advanced - historically speaking - than Quantz and Graun; he is simply possessed of a greater originality of musical mind. Where Quantz was a very effective synthesiser of musical idioms, Bach was something like the creator of a new one.
For anyone interested in the chamber repertoire for flute in the eighteenth century this should be informative and enjoyable listening. Since the playing is exemplary and the recording quality outstanding it can, however, be warmly commended to more than just those with a specialist interest.
-- Glyn Pursglove, MusicWeb International
Saint-Saëns: Complete Symphonies / Soustrot, Malmö Symphony
Saint-Saens wrote five symphonies between the years 1850 and 1886. The cycle began with the Mozart-influenced Symphony in A but as a precocious composer of 17 he wrote his first numbered symphony, a work much admired by Berlioz and Gounod. He progressed to his most popular piece in the genre, the ground-breaking Symphony No. 3 with its inclusion of organ and piano. This critically admired cycle includes a sequence of atmospheric and dramatic symphonic poems, including Phaeton and the ever-popular Danse macabre.
REVIEWS:
The standard reference versions for these works have been Martinon’s EMI (now Warner) recordings, but Soustrot’s are different enough to justify duplication. In the First Symphony, particularly, Soustrot adopts a very slow, dreamy tempo for the Adagio, but it works very well, particularly in contrast to the bold and brassy finale which follows without a break. Soustrot correctly highlights the adventurous writing for the harps, but never tastelessly, and some listeners may feel that the interpretation finds additional expressive depth in music often denigrated as merely sentimental. It’s good to hear it played with no apologies.
In the Second Symphony Soustrot comes closer to Martinon in terms of timing, but there’s no denying the extra clarity and nimbleness of the Malmö ensemble as compared to the old French National Radio and Television Orchestra for EMI. Soustrot’s exciting and rhythmically sharp reading of Phaéton makes a welcome bonus. This is unquestionably one of the best recordings of the piece, with an especially effective thunderbolt as Zeus hurls the hapless chariot (of the sun) driver from his seat. Attractively natural sonics round out a very promising start to this new series.
– ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz; in an earlier review of the CD release of Symphonies 1 & 2)
Marc Soustrot has some very good ideas about how the music should go. Soustrot prefers urgency even at the expense of some occasionally blurred articulation. The very slow tempo for the introduction followed by that agitated allegro highlights the broad range of contrasts typical of the performance more generally. The organ, excellently played by Carl Adam Landström, is very well balanced by the Naxos engineers. All told, this is a very fine performance of the Thrid.
– ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz; in an earlier review of the CD release of Symphony No. 3)
Louis Spohr: String Quartets (Complete), Vol. 17
However, original touches leap out, such as the Op. 30 Menuetto’s full-bodied pizzicato accompaniments, and the D minor Variations’ ingenuous yet formidably difficult figurations. In fact, the long Op. 61 opening Allegro might be described as a violin concerto that gives no respite whatsoever to the soloist! The Moscow Concertino Quartet doles out plenty of warmth and expressive nuance in the way of vibrato and portamento, although the rather grainy sonics exaggerate the ensemble’s timbral stridency in loud passages and occasional intonation problems. Still, the performances’ virtues largely outweigh the drawbacks: sample the well-controlled transitions and sustained soft playing in the lengthy yet consistently interesting Op. 30 finale to hear the Moscow musicians at their best. Self-recommending to Spohr fans.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4 / Gilbert, New York Philharmonic
REVIEW:
These are strong, exciting performances of symphonies that demand the sort of bold muscularity in their execution that these artists offer. In Alan Gilbert’s hands the First Symphony sounds extremely confident and wholly mature. It starts with a bang and the tension in the first movement never lets up. The playing of the New York Philharmonic throughout is fresh and unaffected, full of spirit and drive. Even the Andante flows purposefully forward, and contrasts nicely with the Allegro comodo that does duty for a scherzo–with its harmonic kinks so personal to Nielsen. The finale has the same “pedal to the metal” drive as the opening, bringing the performance to a rousing conclusion.
The performance of the “Inextinguishable” Fourth Symphony also features some really impressive energy and power. In the first movement the brass play with a precision and clarity that few other versions can match, and in the finale the dueling timpani compete with real bravura. The slow movement here reminds me of Shostakovich in its bleak intensity, and my only quibble with Gilbert’s interpretation concerns the symphony’s coda where, like most of his colleagues, Gilbert broadens the pace in the closing bars when Nielsen clearly wants to drive the music home in tempo. Gilbert does pull it off: with an orchestra that has the weight and strength of the New York Philharmonic the effect is convincing, but Gibson (on Chandos) remains unmatched here.
Dacapo’s engineering, as with the previous release in this series, is natural and very present. The woodwinds feel just slightly recessed in more fully scored sections, but I can attest that the music really does sound like this in actual performance with a large orchestra, and certainly nothing gets lost. More importantly, the engineers have captured the impression of a live performance, caught on the wing, and the audience is mercifully quiet. This is a very impressive release.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
QUINTETS FOR CLARINET & STRINGS
Dupré: Organ Music / Alessandro Perin
The output of Marcel Dupré (1886-1971) is so vast and various that only scholars and fellow organists can expect to grasp its scale. Most listeners require a discerning ear to pull out some of the many highlights. The Italian organist Alessandro Perin has done so here, without confining himself to Dupré’s ‘greatest hits’, the characteristic pile-ups of chorale harmonies and torrents of semiquavers in toccatas and variations that find their natural home on the instruments of Cavaille-Coll as an apotheosis of the French Gothic organ style. Instead, Perin’s selection is more diverse. It begins with the Suite Op.39: four pieces originally written as part of a collection of 12 Studies, though they bear no trace of didacticism. Rather, there is a Lisztian quality of invention to their virtuosity, from the glittering cascades of the opening Allegro agitato to the driving counterpoint of the finale. The four settings of the Ave maris stella chant are progressively more ornate, from a simple statement of the chant over a walking bass, through an intricate Bachian chorale prelude, to a final, brilliant toccata. The ‘old Christmas carol’ featured in Op.20 variations is known in English as Now the green blade riseth: in one of his most justly celebrated works, Dupré treats the theme to a dazzling array of transformations, stretching the organist’s technique to the limit. At the height of the Second World War, Dupré composed the Evocation in memory of his father, and gave its first performance at the Cathedral in Rouen in 1941. Exactly what is being evoked is left to the listener to decide, though only the tender second-movement elegy casts its gaze back with fondness; the strident progress of the first movement seems to reflect the troubled times, and the finale has its own struggles to overcome in a final blaze of C major triumph.
Elgar & Faure: String Quartets
Dvorák: Symphonies No 8 & 9 / Mackerras, Prague So
At 80 years young, Charles Mackerras remains one of the great conductors of our era, not to mention one of the most unheralded. His unfailing musicality, intelligence, and sheer joy in performing communicates vividly in these two glorious performances, beautifully recorded live in September, 2005. They are the kind of interpretations that make you listen as if for the first time to music you probably know well. This isn't just because Mackerras opts for the Urtext editions of both scores, most noticeable in the finale of the Eighth Symphony, where after the central climax he has the cellos play the variant of the main theme contained in Dvorák's autograph (Harnoncourt and a few others do similarly). What really distinguishes these performances is their sheer excitement and vital sense of flow, a function of rhythmically characterful phrasing allied to ideally transparent textures.
This is as true of the bucolic first two movements of the Eighth Symphony, where the woodwinds are especially delightful, as it is in the tremendously physical and passionate initial allegro of the Ninth. Has this movement's coda ever sounded more stormily agitated? And notice how marvellously Mackerras judges the tempo of the ensuing Largo, perfectly poised between rapt contemplation and easeful forward motion. Rhythmic acuity is the hallmark of both scherzos: a deliciously pointed waltz in the Eighth, and a swiftly vivacious Slavonic dance in the Ninth.
In the two finales, so often turned into stop-and-start affairs by less adept conductors, Mackerras creates an irresistible feeling of culmination, choosing rousing initial tempos and then for the most part sticking to them. The Eighth's concluding variations seldom have come across more cogently, particularly the lazy last three, which never bog down in excessive Romantic reverie. The Prague Symphony Orchestra responds to Mackerras' direction with amazing gusto, as if it doesn't already know the music backwards and forwards, and the audience is admirably silent. There are other wonderful performances of this music out there, but this truly is as good as it gets.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
American Classics - Hovhaness: Guitar Concerto No 2, Symphony No 63
Naxos are moving with implacable determination around the towering edifice that is the Hovhaness catalogue. Disc after disc is added to their catalogue and discoveries are being made at every turn. This latest volume, set in the context of their American Classics series continues the track record established by: 8.559294 (Symphony 60; Guitar Concerto 1), 8.559207 (Symphonies 4, 20, 53) and 8.559128 (Cello Concerto, Symphony 22).
As is evident from the Saxophone Concerto Hovhaness can be unpredictable and so he proves here. The wonderfully titled Fanfare for the New Atlantis is more of a tone poem with aspects of fanfare in-built. His regal and confident brass writing has the trappings of antiquity - a touch of the Gabriellis - but there is also a sense of modernity, of prayer and of invocation. The most stately aspects of the fanfares at 5:10 recall the striding brass writing in Vaughan Williams' Pilgrim's Progress. The origin of the piece seems unknown though it may have some connection with the Francis Bacon Society which believes that Shakespeare was Bacon's pen-name. Hovhaness was a member of the Society. Amongst Bacon's writings is The New Atlantis. In any event this Fanfare defies clichés you may have absorbed from knowing the examples by Bliss, Walton and Benjamin. This fanfare is recorded, as are all three works, with lavish resonance yet with no loss in definition.
The Guitar Concerto No. 2 was commissioned by Narciso Yepes who gave the work its premiere at the Granada Festival in 1990, five years after its completion. This may have been delayed by the tragic death of Yepes' son in the year in which the concerto was completed. There were no other performances after the premiere. Javier Calderón who commissioned the First Guitar Concerto plays it here although David Leisner made the first recording of the guitar concerto (Naxos 8.559294). The Concerto No. 2 is in four movements. The first is an andante which is delicate, stately and Moorish in character. The allegro giusto recalls the Ravel string quartet in its pizzicato and Rodrigo's Aranjuez in the guitar writing. The andante misterioso makes use of the composer's trademark in surging and searching unison strings alternating with guitar solo. The two commune in invocation and response. The final adagio, allegro giusto combines the sinuous North African arcana of the first movement with a delicate heel-and-toe dance (2:06) over pizzicato. It will have most listeners wanting to play this piece again and again.
In the Loon Lake Symphony Hovhaness looks back in the first movement (Prelude) through the hybrid Celtic-Oriental cor anglais melody to holidays in New Hampshire. We should remember that Hovhaness spent time at his uncle's New Hampshire farm. The commission for this work came in 1987 from the New Hampshire Music Festival. The opulent yet understated carpet of the orchestra comprises a delicate interplay of harp, bells, and pizzicato strings murmuring and strumming. The contemplative and partially Debussian second and last movement includes an Andante misterioso which seems to wander in a trance through those countryside memories. The sound of the loon is quoted in this evocative movement (4:30 and 15:03). The co-commissioner of the Symphony was the Loon Preservation Society. The dialogue of woodwind and the steady dripping of harp hold the attention. The flute and oboe have a louche and jazzy character (12:46) over a pizzicato string backdrop. This develops into an episode which has the clarinet singing a Holstian melody which has something of the greensward about it (14:10). The rhapsodic curl of the woodwind solos resonates with Vaughan Williams - this time the Antarctica rather than the Tallis Fantasia. This is a most beautiful and naturally eloquent symphony. The grand Purcellian statements which are a Hovhaness watermark are here added silver livery by the harp’s expressive endowment. Over this grandeur the trumpet cries out in a further evocation of the loon.
The notes are helpful and specific - always valuable with Hovhaness – and add to the delights of this fine disc.
Naxos are in their element with the Hovhaness symphonies. Don't stop now; of a total of 67 there are plenty of unrecorded symphonies to tackle.
I cannot over-emphasise how attractive this music is. Hovhaness wrote in the 1960s of the importance of identifying our own kind of beauty. These three works bear him out completely.
-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International
Center: Instrumental And Chamber Music, Vol. 1 / Guild
Ronald Center (1913–73) is sometimes described as ‘the Scottish Bartók’. His music shows affinities with the music of Busoni, Debussy, Prokofiev, Shostakovich and Vaughan Williams.
The Scottish pianist Christopher Guild is a strong advocate of contemporary and lesser-known repertoire. Christopher’s investigation into the piano music of his homeland will continue with works by Ronald Stevenson, also for Toccata Classics. The youngest-ever winner of the Moray Piano Competition to this day.
REVIEW:
Gathered here are Center’s 13-minute Piano Sonata, 15-minute set of Six Bagatelles, and 9-minute Piano Sonatine, along with nine shorter pieces. Most are first recordings, though the Sonata has been released on both LP and CD three or four times before. One can see why: it’s a strong, well-made showpiece with cascading, propulsive allegros surrounding two idiosyncratic slow movements, the first an atmospheric nocturne that builds a long, gravel-treading melodic line into a climactic restatement introduced by a halo of arpeggios, the second a quiet, involute canon that becomes encrusted with vehement, fastsnapping ornaments before spinning up into a boldly vaulting fugue to bring this initially introverted andante to a stirring conclusion. There’s not a wasted note in this sonata, and though concise it feels “big” both in sound and scale, encompassing considerable substance and variety.
Of the shorter works some are lively trifles, though even these display Center’s penchant for tangy bitonal harmonies. Many of the slower numbers are wistful and some quite beautiful. ‘Columbine’, from the 5-minute triptych Pantomine, and ‘Larghetto’, a 3-minute singleton, are lovely miniature dream-visions. This is one of those collections where each time one listens to it, one finds more to like. And with 28 tracks, there’s a lot to like here.
-- American Record Guide
Cyprien Katsaris Archives, Vol. 8: Schubert
LISZT Hungarian Rhapsodies: Nos. 2, 3, 5, 7. Elegies: Nos. 1, 2. Liebestraum No. 3. Klavierstücke: Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Trauervorspiel und Trauermarsch. Unstern! Nuages gris. La Lugubre gondola Nos. 1, 2. R.W.—Venezia. Am Grabe Richard Wagners. Piano Sonata in b. Piano Concerto No. 2 1 • Cyprien Katsaris (pn); 1 Arild Remmereit (cond); 1 Deutches SO Berlin • PIANO 21 014-N (2 CDs: 137:51)
SCHUBERT Klavierstücke, D 946: Nos. 1, 2. Ländler, D 366: Nos. 1 (2 versions); 2–5, 10, 13. Ländler, D 790: Nos. 3, 4, 7, 8, 11. Deutsche Tänze, D 420: Nos. 1, 3, 4. Piano Sonata in B?, D 960. SCHUBERT-LISZT Ständchen. Der Müller und der Bach. Ave Maria & • Cyprien Katsaris (pn) • PIANO 21 P21 042A (2 CDs: 103:27) Live: 7/3/93
& KATSARIS Improvisation on Themes of Tchaikovsky and Wagner. BACH Concerto in d, BWV 974: Adagio
“When I heard that recording, I was afraid to play the piece again—I will not play it again”: That’s how the mature Cyprien Katsaris, in an interview with me last year, described his reaction on rehearing this scorching live performance of the Liszt Sonata, taped when he was a youngster of 22 (see Fanfare 34:5). At the time, I wondered just how hyperbolic he was being. Now that I’ve had a chance to hear the performance—which concludes his two-CD Liszt sampler—I can easily understand why he feels that way. Granted, by the stopwatch (always unreliable, but especially so in a long work with dozens of tempo changes), this 29-minute reading is fairly centrist in overall timing. But it certainly doesn’t feel centrist. Rather, the overall effect is vertiginous—passages of almost terrifying impetus made even more ferocious by the extremity with which Katsaris plays many of the slower passages (try, for instance, the way he puts on the brakes as he approaches his arrival at measure 532, or the way he stretches the fermata before the Grandioso theme at measure 600). Yet for all the brinksmanship, for all the improvisatory bravura, there’s never a sense of approximation. Katsaris’s somewhat dry tone keeps the textures clear and his unerring control of articulation and accent keeps them active, with the result that the music consistently sounds both detailed and eventful. And in part because he has such a good sense of the music’s emotional architecture (including a sure understanding of the dramatic purpose of the recitatives), the music has a consistent sense of direction. This reading may not have the intellectual acuity of Steven Hough’s or the volcanic integrity of Ernst Levy’s or the depth of Richter’s many recordings. But for sheer adrenaline, the young Katsaris is a match for Simon Barere, and for sheer imagination, he’s got him beat.
The performance is doubly effective because it comes at the end of a recital that generally offers a rather different vision of both Liszt and Katsaris. Granted, once past the deceptively pensive opening, the high-speed performance of the Second Concerto is similarly searing—especially in the brilliant cascades in the final pages. Here, too, Katsaris ups the emotional ante with his careful articulation, which gives an unusually detailed profile to the musical gestures. And here too he manages to heighten things further with his extreme contrast (try the luxury of the Allegro moderato ). Granted, too, no one is likely to accuse him of underplaying the second Hungarian Rhapsody. But most of the rest of the performances—as befits the repertoire—are notable less for their razzle-dazzle than for their acute understanding of Liszt’s subtler rhetoric.
Thus, it’s not simply that Katsaris captures (even heightens) the strangeness of the radical late scores. More than that, the recording stands out because he manages to do so without turning the music abstract or damping its remaining romantic tendencies. Thus, he fully conveys the obsessive qualities of La Lugubre Gondola I —but he does so without losing the music’s sense of motion. Similarly, there’s no attempt to normalize La Lugubre Gondola II —but there’s no loss of the passionate desperation at its core. Listen to the marvelous tonal effects (including the artful pedaling) in Am Grabe or to the tremendous control of dynamics in the opening pages of the Trauervorspiel or to the disorienting contradictions of the Second Elegy (gloriously passionate, utterly bereft): Rarely has so strong a case been made for the emotional (as opposed to the experimental) qualities of these scores.
One caveat: As Patrick Rucker rightly pointed out in his knowledgeable review in Fanfare 35:4 (less enthusiastic than mine), this is not a collection for textual purists. The most startling deviation from the written score comes at the end of Trauervorspiel und Trauermarsch . Not only does Katsaris add a sonic halo to Liszt’s stark original, but he also throws in a striking effect: Just as the final sustained wash of sound seems to be dying away, it suddenly builds a crescendo. Can a piano really crescendo on a sustained sound? It certainly sounds as if there has been some electronic intervention, but in a series of e-mails Katsaris told me that it was a purely acoustical phenomenon created by the pedals. In any case, while it’s not quite what Liszt wrote, it does (at least to my ears) fit the mood of the music.
The sound varies according to the sources, but it’s generally good, and the studio performances—all of which are new—are a lot better than that. In the Second Concerto, the orchestra provides unusually rich and colorful support.
Schubert demands a rather different approach—and on this recital from 1993, he gets it. These are, on the whole, brightly illuminated performances, dryish in tone and often impulsive (although never rushed) in tempo. Thus, while the sonata is surely one of Schubert’s grander creations, there’s none of Horowitz’s intensity; indeed, Katsaris nearly whispers the third movement, and he offers a generally sunlit account of the finale. Yet for all the clarity, there’s no lack of melodic beauty (listen to the flexible melodic curls of the second of the Klavierstücke ), of timbral sensitivity ( Ständchen is exquisite), or (especially in his collection of Ländler and dances) of succulence and wit. Katsaris’s own fantasy on themes by Tchaikovsky (mainly Swan Lake ) and Wagner ( Tannhäuser , although Lohengrin might have been more fitting) is a delightful first encore—but the eloquent reading of the Bach, with its utter purity and peace, brings the recital to an even higher plane. Not quite as ear-catching as the Liszt recital, perhaps, but well worth owning even so.
FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz
Molino: Complete Guitar Sonatas
SARDINIA
Auerbach: Celloquy
Best of all, the performances are sensational. Auerbach is a superb pianist, and she handles her own frequently virtuosic writing with aplomb. Ani Aznavoorian plays a mean cello, both here and in the Cello Sonata. As Auerbach points out in her notes, the two instruments are equal partners in this latter work, a gripping emotional outpouring that concludes with a lament marked “with extreme intensity”. The preceding third movement is a wild toccata that recalls similar moments in Shostakovich’s Eighth quartet and Eighth symphony. Auerbach also makes evocative use of microtones both here and occasionally in the preludes as well. It’s an interesting addition to her expressive arsenal, particularly when they appear in a tonal context.
The program concludes with a brief Postlude for cello and piano, actually a “deconstruction” of the twelfth Prelude. Grim and eerie, it closes the program on a note of mysterious unease. The sonics are gorgeous, with perfect balances and a very realistic perspective. Fans of good contemporary chamber music will want to own this; it repays repeated listening and reveals Auerbach as a true force in today’s music.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
A HIDDEN LIFE - ORIGINAL MOTIO
Bach: Sonatas And Partitas Bwv 1001-1006 / Frank Bungarten
So what are the differences besides the instrumentation? Of the three, Galbraith generally chooses the swiftest tempos, which when combined with his cello-like performing posture alludes more to the way we're accustomed to hearing the works performed on violin. Galbraith obviously is familiar with the capabilities of this instrument of his own invention--enough to describe his set as the most "virtuosic" of the three. Smith's acount has much going for it too. For one, Smith's is the most historically informed cycle, since he performs on a copy of a period lute, and this often-intimate music admittedly benefits from its almost clavichord-like sound. Smith's performances also are the less mimetic of the three, in the sense that he seems to be interested less in imitating what a violin can make of this music and more with what a lute can. In turn, Smith also takes many more liberties than Galbraith and Bungarten. Listen, for example, to the way he enters the first sonata BWV 1001. Rather than simply imitating the violin's sharp rise, he begins quietly, slowly allowing the integrity of each string to be heard as only a plucked instrument can.
Which now brings us to this MDG set. Frank Bungarten is a fine guitarist whose transcriptions fastidiously attempt to "let the music speak for itself"--meaning that the only liberties he takes are technical ones that make it possible for this violin music to be performed on a guitar. Listen for instance to the way he articulates the final Allegro of Sonata No. 2. Here Bungarten's imaginative use of note for note chordal progressions sustains the dance with remarkable clarity. Equally impressive is Bungarten's clever use of shading and dynamics, particularly in the Tempo di Borea movement of Partita No. 1. The elongated lines that establish the opening theme are given more than enough emphasis without sacrificing any of the quieter intricacy of the inner details.
Bungarten's deft, expertly executed performances certainly are the most straightforward--which is not to say uninflected--of the group. I'm sure that most of us already have at least one recorded cycle of Bach's sonatas and partitas performed on violin. I'm equally sure that far fewer listeners possess one of these fine sets of transcriptions. It's a pity, because to hear this music rethought and applied by such capable musicians as Galbraith, Smith, and Bungarten truly heightens the miracle of it. MDG's sound and overall presentation are as fine as ever. Bungarten also provides informative notes in the multilingual booklet.
--John Greene, ClassicsToday.com
