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- Balakirev: Piano Sonata in B flat minor
- Balakirev: Piano Sonata No. 1 in B flat minor, Op. 5
- Balakirev: Piano Sonata in B flat minor, Op. 3 'Grand Sonata'
- Balakirev: Waltz No. 1 in G - Valse di Bravura
- Balakirev: Nocturne No. 1 in B flat minor
- Balakirev: Waltz No. 2 in F minor
- Balakirev: Waltz No. 3 in D - Valse Impromptu
- Balakirev: Nocturne No. 2 in B minor
- Balakirev: Waltz No.4 in B flat
- Balakirev: Nocturne No. 3 in D minor
- Balakirev: Waltz No. 5 in D flat major
- Balakirev: Nocturne in G sharp minor (early version of Nocturne No. 1)
- Balakirev: Fantasiestuck
- Balakirev: Chant du pêcheur
- Balakirev: Waltz No. 7 in G sharp minor
- Balakirev: Mazurka No. 1 in A Flat
- Balakirev: Mazurka No. 2 in C sharp minor
- Balakirev: Sonatina (Esquisses) in G
- Balakirev: Berceuse
- Balakirev: Mazurka No. 3 in B minor
- Balakirev: Mazurka No. 4 in G flat minor
- Balakirev: Dumka
- Balakirev: Mazurka No. 5 in D
- Balakirev: Rêverie in F major
- Balakirev: Mazurka No. 6 in A Flat
- Balakirev: Piece in F sharp minor
- Balakirev: Mazurka No. 7 in E flat minor
- Balakirev: Capriccio
- Balakirev: Scherzo No. 1 in B minor
- Balakirev: Novelette
- Balakirev: Pustinya
- Balakirev: Scherzo No. 2 in B flat minor
- Balakirev: Fandango-Etude
- Balakirev: Spanish Serenade
- Balakirev: Caprice Brilliant Sur La Jota Aragonesa
- Berlioz: L'Enfance du Christ, Op. 25: La fuite en Egypte - Overture
- Balakirev: Scherzo No. 3 for Piano in F sharp major
- Balakirev: Spanish Melody
- Taneyev, S: Valse-Caprice No. 1 in A flat
- Taneyev, S: Valse-Caprice No. 2 in D flat major
- Glinka: Ivan Susanin (A Life for the Tsar): Overture
- Glinka: Ruslan and Lyudmila: Chernamor's March
- Chopin: Piano Concerto No. 1 - Romanza (transc Balakirev)
- Balakirev: Impromptu on the themes of two Preludes by Chopin
- Chopin: Scherzo No. 2 in B flat minor, Op. 31
- Liszt: Mazurka brillante, S221
- Beethoven: String Quartet No. 8 in E minor, Op. 59 No. 2: Allegretto
- Beethoven: String Quartet No. 13 in B flat major, Op. 130: Cavatina
- Balakirev: Gondellied
- Balakirev: Tarantelle in B
- Balakirev: Polonaise Brillante
- Balakirev: La fileuse
- Balakirev: Au Jardin
- Glinka: Kamarinskaya
- Balakirev: Symphonic Poem 'Tamara'
- Balakirev: Polka in F sharp minor
- Balakirev: Elegy on the Death of a Mosquito
- Balakirev: La Danse De Sorcières (Witches Dance)
- Glinka: Ne Govori: Lyubov' Proydyot (Do Not Say: Love Passes Away)
- Balakirev: Tyrolienne
- Zapol'sky: Reverie
- Balakirev: Toccata
- Balakirev: The Lark
- Balakirev: Islamey - Oriental Fantasy
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Bach: Italian Concerto; French Overture; 4 Duets; Aria & 10 Variations In Italian Style
Piano Classics · May 2015CD$21.99 -
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Franck: Piano Rarities - Original Works & Transcriptions / Armengaud
Grand Piano · Dec 2022CD$19.99 -
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Balakirev: Complete Works for Solo Piano / Walker
These recordings of Balakirev’s complete solo piano works by the much-lauded pianist Nicholas Walker have been hailed as ‘the reference set’ by the American Record Guide. Originally released between 2013 and 2020, these critically acclaimed performances are now collected together for the first time in a 6 album box set. Includes world premiere recordings. Hailed by the London Evening Standard as a 'prodigy, of awesome technical fluency backed by exceptional artistry', Nicholas Walker possesses a rare combination of talents combining sensitivity with 'the flair of a full scale virtuoso and a sparkling intelligence' (BBC Music Magazine). Nicholas Walker teaches at the Royal Academy of Music in London, where he devised the celebrated keyboard skills course, the advanced level of which not only helps students to be proficient in all aspects of practical musicianship, but offers them the chance to learn how to improvise in various forms, such as minuets, variations, sonatinas and Mozart-type cadenzas, in addition to devising and performing a virtuoso transcription of their own.
CONTENTS:
Past praise of previously released volumes included in this set:
Balakirev: Complete Piano Works Vol 1
Walker presents the works in reverse chronological order, thereby giving us the best and best-known work first. It is a masterly performance, fully on a par with or exceeding ones I have reviewed in recent years: Hinrose (Mirare 181, Nov/Dec 2012), Driver (Hyperion 67806, July/Aug 2011), and Hellaby (Cameo 2081, Sept/Oct 2009). Besides Kentner’s great recording (Naxos 111223, not available in US), I also enjoy Earl Wild’s (Ivory 73005, May/June 2004). Walker finds inner voices and emphasizes some different aspects of the harmony and form, making for a new and well thought out interpretation. He has the full technical capability to handle all of the demands of this score
– American Record Guide
Balakirev: Complete Piano Works Vol 3
This third volume of Balakirev’s complete piano works is built around his seven Mazurkas, joyous and colourful pieces with an unmistakable Slavic tone. This series continues to establish Walker as the new reference for Balakirev’s music.
– Musiq3
Balakirev: Complete Piano Works Vol 5
This one is particularly fascinating for transcription junkies, beginning with the spectacular (and spectacularly difficult) Reminiscences on Glinka’s A Life for the Czar, famous from Earl Wild’s 1969 recording. Walker is quite his equal—and that is saying something—and is also beautifully recorded in a realistic, sympathetic acoustic. Indeed, Walker’s playing throughout this absorbing disc is a pleasure to hear, with a sophisticated tonal palette and eschewing any superficial virtuosity: ‘bravura with integrity’ is how I would describe it. Why don’t we hear more of him?
–Gramophone
Bach: Italian Concerto; French Overture; 4 Duets; Aria & 10 Variations In Italian Style
PIANO WORKS
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No 5, Etc / Szell, Cleveland So
The same holds true for the Capriccio, a bubbly performance given additional brilliance thanks to Szell's willingness to let the trumpets strut their stuff (also true in the symphony) and to the orchestra's hair-trigger rhythmic precision. Szell may not have let his hair down often, but there's a difference between discipline and inhibition. His best performances, as here, offer plenty of the former with no trace of the latter. The sonics show their age in a high level of hiss and a certain want of timbral richness, but better this than a remastering that chops off the treble and robs the music of its natural brilliance. That, thank God, you can still hear in abundance. This is a release that Szell fans will surely want to acquire, assuming of course that you don't already own one of its prior incarnations.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
RAVEL L'ALCHIMISTE
The Secret Mozart / Christopher Hogwood
MOZART Allegro in g, K 312. Andante and 5 Variations, K 501. 1 Minuetto in D, K 355. Marche funèbre, K 453a. Andantino, K 236. Klavierstücke in F, K 33b. Adagio for Glass Harmonica, K 356. La‚t uns mit geschlungen Händen, K 623. Rondo in F, K 494. Theme and 2 Variations in A, K 460. Fantasia in d, K 397 (2 versions). Sonata in D, K 381 1 • Christopher Hogwood (clvd); Derek Adlam (clvd) 1 • DEUTSCHE HARMONIA MUNDI 82876 832882 (73:46)
Mozart played on the clavichord? What at first may seem an odd concept has ample documentary evidence to support it. As anyone who has been to the Geburtshaus in Salzburg will probably recall, Mozart himself owned a clavichord that he used as a compositional tool for his last major works, according to his widow Constanze’s testimony. And as Christopher Hogwood reminds us in his notes, Mozart makes frequent reference to the instrument in general in his correspondence. As Bach, and Handel before him, then, it seems extremely likely that Mozart used this quietly intimate instrument in domestic music-making.
Hogwood’s recital is played on three instruments, including Mozart’s own, an unfretted instrument of unknown provenance conforming to the simple construction methods of late 18th-century German clavichords. It is the brightest and clearest of the three, with an attractive bell-like sonority in the upper register that makes it highly suitable for the late Adagio for Glass Harmonica, and a “buzzy” quality in bass, as heard in the final passage of the F-Major Rondo, the final movement of the composite Sonata, K 533/K 494. The oldest instrument, used for the first three works in the heading, is an unfretted clavichord by the Hamburg maker Johann Albrecht Hass, signed and dated 1761. The sound (at least as recorded) is to my mind rather on the “tubby” side, with a veiled quality that works particularly well in the chromatic intensity of the Minuetto in D.
Finally, Hogwood plays four works on an unfretted instrument by the Bavarian builder Johann David Schiedmayer. Interestingly, this late example (1791) is the one that approaches most closely the sound of a fortepiano, although I’m not sufficient of an expert on the subject to know if this was a conscious aim of later makers. Among the works played on it are both versions of the familiar Fantasia in D Minor, one of Mozart’s most unsettling keyboard works. The original breaks off on a dominant cadence, while there is another with a 10-bar completion by another hand, possibly August Müller. Hogwood plausibly suggests that the incomplete version was intended as the introduction to a work in D Major (he is not, as he implies, the first to do so; Alfred Einstein advanced the same theory 60 years ago), and consequently uses it as a lead-in to the Sonata in D, K 381, a not altogether convincing solution since the latter is for four hands. The sonata, much the most substantial work on the disc, is given a high-spirited performance by Hogwood and Derek Adlam, who achieve excellent ensemble (listen to the unanimity of the detached eighth-notes at the start of the second half of the opening Allegro), while making much of the concerto-like texture of the finale.
In general, Hogwood’s performances are as accomplished as would be expected from such a seasoned performer. Tempos are sensible, with andantes and allegrettos kept moving purposefully, while fingerwork is clean and well articulated. Ornaments are added where appropriate. Occasionally, I felt the touch was a little heavy and that rhythms were rather unyielding. A little more flexibility and expressivity would not have come amiss, but the recital is nonetheless highly rewarding both as to repertoire and as the rare opportunity to hear what Mozart sounds like on the clavichord. The CD is the third in a series devoted to the clavichord and entitled “The secret . . .”, previous issues having been devoted to Bach and Handel (both on Metronome). To come are “The secret Haydn,” and “The secret Beethoven.”
FANFARE: Brian Robins
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
MOZART: PIANO SONATAS VOL.1
Martinu: Piano Quintets No 1 & 2, Etc / Karel Kosárek, Et Al

Martinu's Second Piano Quintet dates from 1944, the same time as the Third and Fourth Symphonies, and if you love those works you'll be thrilled by this quintet, which sounds just like them albeit scored for smaller forces. Right from the dreamy opening Martinu's personal blend of impressionistic harmony and sweetly lyrical, syncopated melody makes the work instantly recognizable, and unforgettable. The Adagio second movement must number among his finest in any medium, while the finale, with its alternations of quick and slow tempos and unsettled emotional climate, anticipates that of the Fifth Symphony. In short, this is a great work, certainly one of the best piano quintets of the 20th century (not that there are all that many worth noting).
The Piano Quintet No. 1 dates from 1933, when Martinu was living in Paris and turning out a delightful stream of neo-classical and neo-baroque works. Although recognizably music by the composer of the Second Quintet, the treatment of material is quite different. The strings tend to operate as a unit, opposed by the full harmony of the piano, while the toccata-like rhythms and more acerbic, less lyrical thematic material are all characteristic traits of Martinu's early maturity. If anything these observations are even more true of the quirky and highly entertaining two-movement Sonata for Two Violins and Piano of a year earlier.
The Martinu Quartet, already acclaimed for its performances on Naxos of its eponymous composer's works for that medium, finds a worthy partner in pianist Karol Kosárek. The performances are uniformly excellent, full of energy but never timbrally crude (as with The Lindsay Quartet on ASV). There is very little competition in this music: the ASV release aside, the most noteworthy previous release comes from an old Denon/Supraphon recording of the Second Quintet featuring the Smetana Quartet. The coupling (Three Madrigals) is much less generous than what Naxos offers here, making this extremely well-recorded release essential for chamber music collectors and Martinu fans alike.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
MARTIN? Piano Quintets: No. 1; No. 2. Sonata for Two Violins and Piano • Karel Košárek (pn); Martin? Qrt • NAXOS 557861 (58:33)
The piano quintet is a challenging medium. Setting aside Schubert’s “Trout” and Hummel’s op. 84 (both of which use violin, viola, cello, and double bass instead of string quartet with piano), the Romantic quintets most frequently encountered in concerts today are those by Schumann, Dvo?ák, Franck, and Brahms. One comes across the Saint-Saëns, Elgar, Fauré, and Dohnányi quintets less often. The Brahms piece, published as both a quintet and a sonata for two pianos, provides an interesting illustration of the problem posed by the medium. Does the composer use the ensemble in a sort of mini-concerto, playing off piano and quartet against one another, à la Brahms, or does he attempt a more cohesive integration of the ensemble, achieved with such brilliance by Franck? Shostakovich’s Piano Quintet excepted, relatively few 20th-century essays for the medium have caught on. This new recording of pianist Karel Košárek and the Martin? Quartet (violinists Lubomir Havlák and Petr Mate?ják, violist Jan Jíša, and cellist Jitka Vlašanková) makes a compelling case for admitting Bohuslav Martin?’s two piano quintets into the fold.
The first piano quintet, composed in Paris in 1933, is a life-affirming work of bold contours and bright colors. In terms of ensemble, it is closer to the Brahmsian concerto-like model. The first movement’s robust musical argument is set out here with great conviction. Košárek and the Martin? portray the alternately wistful and anguished Andante with elegance and sympathy. Tricky rhythmical figurations in the harmonically luminous allegretto Scherzo are superbly negotiated. The quartet manages the pungent dissonances that usher in the fourth and final movement with sure intonation and great effect.
Blacklisted by the Nazis, Martin? and his wife immigrated to the US in 1941. Three years later, he composed the Second Piano Quintet, replete with coloristic elements of Bohemian folklore that might suggest the composer’s longing for home. Fluttering trills and tremolandos in the strings and piano lend the strange and beautiful Adagio an ethereal air. Throughout, Martin? accomplishes the Franckian ideal of perfectly integrated ensemble. My sense is that this Quintet plumbs greater depths than the Parisian work, though it is certainly equally appealing.
The neo-Baroque Sonata for Two Violins and Piano comes as a light-hearted affair in the wake of the substantial quintets. The second of its two Allegro movements is prefaced with an odd and fascinating Andante, beautifully played by Havlák and Mate?ják. The excellent pianist Karel Košárek here demonstrates that his expertise as an accompanist equals his strength as the protagonist in the more elaborate quintets.
Writing in the late 1970s, the Austrian musicologist Othmar Wessely called Martin? “a curiously elusive artist,” noting the speed with which he composed his vast output, combined with his aversion to revision. Though a great deal of his music is available, much of it recorded by artists from the former Czechoslovakia, I suspect that a definitive assessment of his work is yet to come. Few would probably argue that Martin?’s achievement approaches the eloquent mastery of his older contemporaries, Janá?ek and Bartók. But at its best, Martin?’s music can be original, compelling, and very beautiful. Karel Košárek and the Martin? Quartet were recorded in a studio of the Czech Radio in Prague in June 2005. The technical values are high, and the ambient acoustic well suited to both the material and the players. Recommended.
FANFARE: Patrick Rucker
TABULA RASA / SYMPHONY 1 / COLLAGE ON A THEME BACH
Mahler & Zemlinsky: Symphony No. 6
Small Treasures
Nicholas Scott-Burt: 24 Preludes for Piano
Rodolphe Kreutzer: Violin Concertos No 17, 18 & 19 / Axel Strauss
KREUTZER Violin Concertos: No. 17 in G; No. 18 in e; No. 19 in d • Axel Strauss (vn); Andrew Mogrelia, cond; San Francisco Conservatory O • NAXOS 8570380 (71: 52)
From a position of relative neglect (only his 40 studies for violin remained really active in the repertoire), Rodolphe Kreutzer has risen to greater prominence with recordings of his studies (by Elizabeth Wallfisch, cpo 999901, Fanfare 32:5) and concertos (No. 19 in D Minor, No. 18 in E Minor, and No. 15 in A Major, with violinist Laurent Albrecht Breuninger and Alun Francis conducting the SWR Radio Orchestra Kaiserlautern, on cpo 777188, Fanfare 33:6; and No. 9 in E Minor, No. 13 in D Major, the Variations on “Nel cor più non mi sento,” and Montanyas Regaladas , with violinist Saskia Lethiec and José Ferreira Lobo conducting the Orquestra do Norte, Porto, and the Versailles Conservatory Instrumental Ensemble, Talent 2911 126, Fanfare 33:1) now being frequently issued. In fact, Breuninger’s recording included Kreutzer’s last two concertos, the 18th and 19th, which Axel Strauss now offers along with the roughly contemporaneous 17th.
The slow movement of Kreutzer’s 17th concerto provides ample—and poignant—melodic relief from the bold thematic statements and technical passagework that mark much of its first movement. If Giovanni Battista Viotti, who’s often linked with Kreutzer (the French “Viotti-Rode-Kreutzer Concerto”) introduced Haydn’s symphonic orchestration into the violin concerto’s armamentarium, Kreutzer approached the sound of Beethoven’s orchestra, as Bruce R. Schueneman’s notes point out. But Kreutzer kept the violin at the forefront, a position that Axel Strauss and his 1845 J. F. Pressenda violin commandingly occupy. He’s snappy and alert in the passagework, as well, delivering impressive barrages of double-stops and sharply characterizing, both stylistically and rhythmically, the Rondo finale’s thematic material. And, as in the first movement’s second theme, he imparts an almost nostalgic sweetness to his reading of the second movement. Those who expect a clone of Viotti’s more familiar concertos (a greater number of them have remained in print) may be pleasantly surprised by Kreutzer’s inventiveness and keen ear for orchestral timbres.
The 18th and 19th concertos begin with Moderato movements, both almost double the length of the six-odd-minute affair that opens the 17th Concerto. As does the 17th, the 18th begins with a movement that explores the passagework, notably in double-stops, that must have stood near the avant garde of violinists’ technical capabilities at the time Kreutzer wrote it; although hardly a virtuoso vehicle in today’s terms, it exploits the instrument’s idiomatic possibilities with a canniness that the trailblazing composers of the era seemed to possess in abundance (else, how could the violin have achieved the prominence it did?), presenting them in the context of dramatic orchestral statements and barnstorming tuttis. Strauss hardly plays this work, or the 17th Concerto, for that matter, dismissively, as many might do (hear how seriously he takes the recitative passages in the middle of the first movement); perhaps the sense of history developed by period instrumentalists has opened the eyes even of world-weary and everything-but-masterpiece-disdaining conservatory students to the merits of compositions like this one. Strauss once again brings a plausible plaintiveness to the second movement with its melody flowing over a light accompaniment and an exuberant if dignified vitality to the final Rondo. Like the first movement of the 17th Concerto, that of the 19th (which Schueneman cites Boris Schwarz as considering, with Viotti’s celebrated 22nd, as one of the outstanding examples of the French Violin Concerto—Joachim admired these two concertos as well, placing Viotti’s just after Beethoven’s and ahead of Mendelssohn’s and Brahms’s) develops the contrast between the lyrical and the dramatic, which continues, in its way, into the second movement, while the finale provides the usual good-natured conclusion (often, as here, with the principal theme in dotted rhythms).
Those who consider Kreutzer’s studies mere drudgery that a violinist has to endure on the way to the Paganini caprices should discover in these concertos, as well as in the others that have been recorded, a composer of unsuspected talent, even one worthy of Beethoven’s dedication of the famous Ninth Sonata. The engineers have placed the violin in the forefront of the San Francisco Conservatory Orchestra, which plays with vibrant and sonorous enthusiasm. Strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli Plays Mozart
MOZART Piano Concertos: No. 20 in d, K 466; No. 15 in B?, K 450 • Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli (pn); Antoine de Bavier, cond; Stuttgart RSO • ICA 5103 (54:24) Live: Ludwigsburg 7/11/1956
Michelangeli’s Mozart is often criticized for having the same flaws as many of his other recordings: His playing is controlled, perhaps for some over-controlled to the point of being static in conception; his tempos are extreme, slower than normal in the middle movements, faster than most in the outer ones; he is free with rhythms in certain places, perhaps more so in the cadenzas than elsewhere (I have little problem with this detail in these areas in particular). Some would call him cold, a surface performer who glosses over the true spirit of this music. But it is difficult to judge harshly a performer who is so very polished in his interpretation. Even if Michelangeli were not only in his mid-30s at the time of these readings, one would be hard-pressed to call these performances cold. Perhaps even more importantly, these readings took place in the 1950s, when every composer was still seen through 19th-century eyes in some way or another; the “informed” practice of the second half of the century was soon to begin—the research into original instrumentation, dynamics, articulation, etc.
When listening to Michelangeli’s Mozart as performed at Ludwigsburg, one is struck more by the forward-propelled, one might even say Beethovenian, momentum of his playing. In the D-Minor Concerto, it is the latter composer’s oft-played cadenzas, which Michelangeli has also chosen to perform. In his hands the entire work seems momentous, from the very first low orchestral grumblings of the opening movement, through the lyrical at times, stormy at others, Romanze , to the virtuosic and flighty finale. Michelangeli performs as expected: His tone is always beautiful and rounded, his scales and arpeggios are crystal clear, his control of dynamic shading and nuances is awe-inspiring; but even more importantly his energy is palpable as is his sense of danger. One sits on the edge of one’s seat when listening to this Mozart. The B?-Major Concerto, K 450, was one of the pianist’s favorites. This reading is filled with some of the best of the qualities of the D Minor, though here some of those negative complaints heaped upon the performer seem more justified: The tempo in the opening movement is too fast. There are moments which just sound rushed; the rhythmic quirks are evident from the very opening—initiated by the orchestra, these are later echoed by the soloist. Yet for all the flaws, there are moments which are just magical: the gorgeous opening trills of the cadenza, and even more so the dance-like lift the pianist gives to the second subject just a few moments later; the simple yet sincere way the forces play the second movement, especially the wonderful sense of dialogue they maintain throughout. And if one requires technical perfection for any of Mozart’s finales, it would certainly be this one—one of the most difficult of his concertos. Michelangeli is not one to disappoint.
If one requires Mozart to sound the way a Brendel, a Schiff, or a Perahia would perform these works, then one should look towards those other performers; but if one is open to a variety of approaches, then this Michelangeli will supplement one’s collection nicely—to me the very best Mozart that the pianist ever committed to disc (forget the old EMI or DG recordings)! Though the sound is still somewhat primitive and the orchestra a bit stiff in certain places, these are, regardless, performances to cherish.
FANFARE: Scott Noriega
Franck: Piano Rarities - Original Works & Transcriptions / Armengaud
Few composers have enjoyed a late flowering to compare with that of César Franck. Many of the great works in this recording were composed during his final decades and still stand today as powerful representatives of French music in the post-Franco-Prussian War period. The influence of Wagner can be heard in the poetic evocations of Les Éolides, while the magnificent Prélude, Choral et Fugue, much admired by Liszt, reinterprets well-known Baroque-era genres into an unforgettably expressive Romantic aesthetic. Widely acknowledged as one today’s great interpreters of French music, Jean-Pierre Armengaud presents an album of rarities composed for piano by Franck and arrangements of the composer’s works by distinguished musicians from the early 20th century.
REVIEWS:
The welcome César Franck revival rumbles on...here’s an interesting collection of piano music from veteran French pianist Jean-Pierre Armengaud. Three out of five of the pieces here are transcriptions; I’d argue that the Prélude, Fugue et Variations, originally an organ work from 1863, sounds far more appealing in Harold Bauer’s piano arrangement. Armengaud’s prelude is tender and lyrical, the ensuing fugue’s lines nicely delineated. The final section’s baroque flourishes look ahead to the opening of Saint-Saens’ Piano Concerto No. 2, composed just a few years later. The tone poem Les Éolides is heard in an effective transcription by French composer Gustave Samazeuilh. Franck’s claggy harmonic language is easier to make sense of when you can hear the notes clearly, and Armengaud keeps the music moving.
The Prelude, Chorale and Fugue is marvellous...its three movements lasting around 20 minutes. Intensely chromatic and brilliantly organised, Armengaud is superb in the fugue’s radiant B major conclusion, the resonant acoustic really suiting the work. As a closer, there’s the posthumously published introduction to Ruth, Églogue biblique, a large-scale early work for voices and orchestra. Armengaud’s conviction brings it to life[.]
-- The Arts Desk
Franck wrote only two mature piano works, the splendid Prélude, Chorale et Fugue and the rather less fine Prélude, Aria et Finale. The first of these features here; otherwise, we have a collection of transcriptions, all except one by other hands.
We begin with the best-known, the version by Harold Bauer of the Prélude, Fugue et Variation, originally written for organ. Bauer did his work so skilfully that you would hardly think that this was not an original piano work, apart from a few spread chords – but then Franck used these anyway in his proper piano works. In this form it is a worthy companion to the two major piano works, and its gentle melody and limpid flow make a good contrast to the more powerful writing in those works. I liked Armengaud’s performance, in which he makes intelligent use of the Steinway third pedal, the sostenuto pedal, to sustain the deep bass notes while the melody and figuration occur above.
Les Éolides is a most attractive orchestral tone poem, inspired by a poem by Leconte de Lisle about what in English we call the Aeolids, the daughters of Aeolus, keeper of the winds in Homer. The original has an elaborate texture, which makes for complex piano writing in Samazeuilh’s piano transcription.
The sleevenote is helpful and the recording very good.
-- MusicWeb International
SERGEI RACHMANINOV: LAST ROMANTIC HERO
Sgambati Collection (Italian Romantics Series)
MAKSIMAL
Shostakovich: Quartets No 3, 14, 15, Quintet / Juilliard Sq
SHOSTAKOVICH String Quartets: No. 3; No. 14; No. 15. Piano Quintet • Juilliard Str Qrt; Yefim Bronfman (pn) • SONY 79018 (2 CDs: 127:38)
Among the releases celebrating the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Juilliard String Quartet (of course, none of the original members remain) is this most welcome set of Shostakovich quartets. Welcome because, despite the Juilliard’s longstanding commitment to 20th-century music in general and their having given the American premiere of the 15th Quartet in 1975 (with two of the current members, cellist Joel Krosnick and violist Samuel Rhodes, participating) in particular, this is apparently their first recording of any Shostakovich quartets. (The performance of the Piano Quintet, however, was recorded in 1999 and originally issued along with Bronfman’s account of Shostakovich’s two piano concertos—see Fanfare 23:4.) Most welcome because the quartet brings its usual penetrating insight and commitment to this music.
Truth be told, their account of the Third Quartet didn’t grab me on first hearing. With the rich, resonant, tonally nuanced sound of the Borodin Quartet foremost in my memory, the Juilliards initially seemed lean and distant, and the way they speed through the score came across as unfocused nervous energy (following a moderately paced Allegretto, slower than most, they take three of the four remaining movements significantly faster than the Borodins). But after several rehearings, I came to appreciate the different interpretive details they bring out—such as the jangly Cubist feel they give the first movement’s quasi-fugue and the excitement they obtain by whipping up the tempo in its concluding pages, or the gypsyish quality that their quick phrasing suggests after reference point 55 in the third movement. They may not dig as deep as the Borodins; instead, theirs is a more measured, varied perspective—for example, though lacking the Borodins’ remarkable tension at dramatic points, such as the expressive passage at 108 in the finale, they redeem themselves by deftly emphasizing the dance tune that appears almost immediately thereafter, as if to soften the blow. My ears also gradually adjusted to the recorded sound, so that I came to realize what at first seemed distant was actually more of a natural concert hall ambience and balance than the beefed up (and effective, but enhanced) engineering afforded the Borodins (EMI).
If the Third Quartet benefited from a bit of familiarity to reveal its irony and edginess, the Juilliard’s 14th and 15th Quartets were immediately engaging and convincing—all the more impressive as these are Shostakovich’s two most enigmatic quartets. The 14th is dedicated to Sergei Shirinsky, cellist of the Beethoven Quartet, and here Joel Krosnick makes the most of his featured role. I once wrote in a review that I wouldn’t argue with Royal S. Brown’s assessment of this quartet as “the least appealing, least original, and least successful of the 15” ( Fanfare 12:1), but the Juilliard interpretation has put this music into a new light for me. They fearlessly attack the score’s dissonances, making it sound more tonally ambiguous—and thus simultaneously more original and mysterious—than has any other ensemble in my experience. In their hands, the opening pages sound like a drunken Beethovenian aborted fugue—high spirited but slightly off-kilter—and even the fragmented finale is played with an intensity that makes it sound more coherent than ever before.
In the 15th Quartet as well, notorious for its six introspective Adagio movements, the Juilliards don’t shy away from the music’s bleakness and occasional harshness. They embrace its stark, transparent textures—the waltz in the second movement (ironically titled “Serenade”) isolates individual lines like exposed nerves, and Rhodes’s viola solo opening the “Nocturne” is not pretty, but painfully necessary. Though separated by 35 years, the mood of the opening pages of the final quartet is remarkably similar to that of the second movement fugue in the Piano Quintet, growing from simple motifs into a contrapuntal web of deep emotion until chant-like themes emerge as temporary balm, offered without exaggeration or pathos. Speaking of the Piano Quintet, Bronfman is an ideal partner—a powerful presence in the Richter mold, who can project tenderness or urgency as called for, and whose attitude is perfectly in sync with the Juilliard’s direct, yet dramatic approach.
In sum, these are distinguished, distinctive performances that interpretively fall in between the robust, sometimes exaggerated Russianness of the Borodin or Sorrel style, and the brisk, almost analytical precision of the Fitzwilliam and Emerson accounts. Is it too early to start thinking about this year’s Want List?
FANFARE: Art Lange
Latin America Alive / Mata, Simon Bolivar Symphony Orchestra
This cheaply priced set brings together a number of recordings made in the early 1990s in Venezuela, featuring the Simón Bolívar Orchestra under the baton of the Mexican conductor Eduardo Mata. Mata, who had a distinguished career in Europe, London, and the United States, died at the age of 52 in a plane crash in January of 1995.
The Simón Bolívar orchestra is internationally known because of the sistema , set up in Caracas in 1975 by José Antonion Abreu, whereby young people are taught to play and appreciate music. Many orchestras at various levels of proficiency are a part of this scheme, the Simón Bolívar representing the cream of the crop. Since Gustavo Dudamel became their chief conductor (prior to his tenure in Los Angeles), the orchestra’s profile has grown and the enterprise has expanded considerably. Ten years earlier, they had the good fortune to be associated with Mata, although I would guess that the majority of players from that time have since moved on.
Dorian initially recorded and distributed these CDs separately, and most collectors will be aware of them. Now they have been re-released as a box set by Dorian Sono Luminus. The latter company recently reissued the complete Villa-Lobos string quartets, and will produce a box set later this year of Mata’s Dorian recordings with the Dallas SO (where he was music director at the time of his sudden demise).
According to the press release, all the recordings have been newly remastered, although there is no indication of that in the packaging, and no engineer credited with remastering. (This is in contrast to the well-documented Villa-Lobos quartets reissue.) In an A/B comparison using three discs, I found the sound on the new set to have more presence; the slight boxiness of the original pressings has been minimized. The new discs have also been mastered at a higher level, a noticeable improvement.
In some other respects, crucial information is missing. No cast list is given for the opera La vida breve , merely a few singers’ out-of-date biographies. Research suggests the lead role of Salud is sung by Marta Senn, who is also the soloist in El amor brujo and the Seven Popular Spanish Songs , although nowhere is this stated. No librettos are supplied, even though the original incarnation of at least one of these discs did so (Estévez’ Cantata criolla ). The Cuarteto Latinoamericano is no longer acknowledged for their major contribution to Orbón’s Concerto grosso, and Sensemayá is not listed as part of the contents of disc 2 in the booklet. Notes are otherwise comprehensive.
Putting the two Falla discs aside for the moment, the program consists of Latin American music’s greatest hits, with a few lesser-known works mixed in, such as those by the Venezuelan Antonio Estévez (1916–1988) and Spanish-born Cuban Julian Orbón (1925–1991). A personal friend of Orbón, whose Partita No.4 for Piano and Orchestra he also recorded, Mata is very much at home in this music. He generally takes a no-nonsense approach, so performances tend to be snappy and slick. Ensemble is tight and textures clearly delineated.
In the 1990s, this orchestra had not attained its current level of polish, so it does not trump all competition—such as Mata himself conducting the New Philharmonia in Revueltas and the London SO in Falla (both RCA), or Dudamel’s sensational 2008 recording of Sensemayá, Mediodia en el llano , and Estancia on DG. Nevertheless, these colorful and energetic readings are highly enjoyable on their own account; the Estévez cantata builds impressively to its climax—a vocal duel between the two male soloists. This is also the only available version of Chavéz’ rare ballet score, Caballos de vapor.
The four CDs of Latin music alone would have made a tempting bargain box, but Dorian has added two discs of Falla. The second includes two rarities: the composer’s own orchestration of his Homenajes (“Homages”), some of which were originally written for piano or solo guitar, and the orchestral arrangement of the Seven Popular Spanish Songs made by Luciano Berio for his then wife Cathy Berberian. (Did Berberian ever record them?)
Falla’s early opera-cum-zarzuela La vida breve is well worth getting to know. Its Impressionistic opening gives way to a red-blooded verisimo story of love and death, replete with a Spanish dance in the style of The Three Cornered Hat and an interlude for (male) flamenco singer/guitarist. Mata championed this work throughout his career. The main soloists here are fine, but Senn is outsung by Victoria de los Angeles (EMI), Alicia Nafé (Telarc), and Teresa Berganza (DG), respectively. And though he may be authentic, Mata’s Gypsy singer sounds as if he’s been gargling battery acid. Senn is clearly uncomfortable in El amor brujo , where the tessitura lies awkwardly for her; the low part of her head voice comes over as hooty. I much prefer Nati Mistral on Mata’s earlier recording. Orchestrally, the Venezuelan performances are typically vigorous and clear.
Chávez’ Sinfonia India , Revueltas’s Sensemayá , Villa-Lobos’s Bachianas brasileiras No. 2 and Ginastera’s Estancia are cornerstones of the Latin repertoire. This release is a relatively cheap way to acquire them— and much else of interest besides—while paying fitting tribute to Eduardo Mata. It hardly feels like 15 years since his death.
FANFARE: Phillip Scott