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Mozart: Masses, Vol. 2 - No. 18, K.427 'Great' & K.258 'Spaur' / Konradi, Cologne CO
Naxos · Nov 2022CD$19.99 -
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Tchaikovsky: Orchestral Works, Symphonies 1-6 / Jarvi, Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra
BIS · Dec 2010CD$59.99 -
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Renotte: Pieces de Clavecin
Mozart: Masses, Vol. 2 - No. 18, K.427 'Great' & K.258 'Spaur' / Konradi, Cologne CO
This second album of Mozart’s complete Masses (Volume 1 is on 8.574370) pairs one work of exceptional dimensions and ambition with a miniature example. The ‘Great’ Mass in C minor is one of Mozart’s most spectacular and cast on such a scale that it embraces every human and spiritual emotion, reconciling the Salzburg tradition with that of Italian opera. The Mass was left incomplete by Mozart– it is heard here in a performing version made by the German musicologist and Mozart specialist Franz Beyer. By comparison the Missa brevis in C major exudes a spirit of festive concision.
Janácek: Orchestral Suites - Jenufa, Káta Kabanová, Fate
MOZART: STRING QUINTETS K. 515 & K. 516
Claude Baker: Glass Bead Game / Slatkin, Vonk, St. Louis Symphony
BAKER The Glass Bead Game. 1 Awaking the Winds. 2 Shadows: Four Dirge-Nocturnes. 3 The Mystic Trumpeter 4 • Leonard Slatkin, cond; 4 Hans Vonk, cond; Saint Louis SO • NAXOS 8.559642 (66:36) Live: St. Louis 1 1/21–24/1991; 2 5/14–16/1993; 3 5/18–20/1990; 4 4/16–18/1999
From 1991 to 1999 Claude Baker was the composer-in-residence to the Saint Louis Symphony, the fourth and last in a program in which he was preceded by Joseph Schwantner (1982–85), Joan Tower (1985–88), and Donald Erb (1988–91). Recorded souvenirs of the residencies of the first three were issued by Nonesuch and New World; neither Schwantner release made it to CD, but the Tower and Erb did and can still be purchased. Though arguably the most compelling artist of this distinguished quartet—please don’t send nasty notes—and certainly the one longest in residence, Baker was not so honored. A 1993 live recording of Shadows: Four Dirge-Nocturnes was included in the limited edition commemorative set, The Slatkin Years , but that is long out of print. (The Naxos disc opts for the 1990 premiere.) So this Naxos release of live recordings originally made for broadcast between 1990 and 1999, funded by Indiana University in Bloomington where Baker holds an endowed professorship, is a most welcome redress of an unfortunate oversight.
The Glass Bead Game (1982/83)—inspired, as is almost all of his music, by a literary work and quoting from the compositions of others as annotation—is quintessential Claude Baker and therefore a perfect work to open the program. Baker, inspired by Hermann Hesse’s novel of the same name, takes his thesis from the intellectual narcissism of Hesse’s Castalian scholars. Their obsession with analyzing the past, their fascination with games, trivial detail, cleverness, and systemic complexity, and their eventual stagnation and decline through failure to create anything new are all reflected in the musical program. Baker uses Hesse and the music to shine a light on 20th-century musical obsessions, using a brilliantly executed numerologically complex serial canon; a dream-like, period-correct performance of a Johann Schein courtly dance commented upon by modern atonality; and an amazing collage of six works by Dallapiccola, Schoenberg, Vaughan Williams, Shostakovich, Penderecki, and Liszt, given unity by their incorporation of the famous B-A-C-H motive. These six pieces are assimilated Castalian-syle into a final movement, which is both amazing in its virtuosity and sobering in its ultimate emptiness.
Shadows: Four Dirge-Nocturnes (1990) and The Mystic Trumpeter (1999) are grounded as well in literary sources. In Shadows , Baker explores four haiku, using characteristics of the form—syllable counts, binary construction, and motivic concision—as compositional elements. The verses and the music are dark, evoking death, the graveyard, and mourning in each of the seasons from spring through winter. Woven into the nocturnal work are gestures, fragments, and quotes from works by Mahler, Britten, and Stravinsky, ending touchingly with a quote from “In diesem Wetter” from Kindertotenlieder. The Mystic Trumpeter concerns itself with Walt Whitman, finding both literal and symbolic connection between the verse—the title poem and “The Dalliance of the Eagles”—and Ives’s The Unanswered Question , and works by Messiaen, George Rochberg, and medieval troubadour Guiraut de Bornelh. Awaking the Winds (1993) is the anomaly. It has no literary precursor, contains no borrowed music, and is “freely chromatic” rather than Baker’s usual combination of tonality and atonality. Unlike the other works that are heavily driven by the percussion section, this one eschews even timpani. It essentially is a pastorale, though the composer disavows any programmatic intent, with suggestions of wind and sounds of nature, a storm, and a quiet dénouement.
During the decade of these performances, Leonard Slatkin and the SLSO had a well-deserved reputation as promoters of new music, especially by native composers, and the orchestra was in superb shape, able to play anything that their composer might write for them. Vonk, who took over the podium in 1996, may not have taken to the idiom as naturally, but the orchestra still knew the way home and the Dutch maestro paces them most effectively. The execution of this bold, dramatic, and exceedingly challenging music is flawless, the moments of quiet and delicacy are sublimely poised, and even more to the advantage of the music, all is presented with absolute conviction. Recordings exist online of Indiana University ensembles playing this music—although The Mystic Trumpeter seems to have disappeared for now—but good as they are—and the fine Shadows is even conducted by Slatkin—none of the IU performances can match these in function or insight. The recordings themselves, the majority engineered by the late/lamented William Hoekstra, are demonstration class, and reveal little of the very quiet audiences. I was present for at least three of these concert series, so for me there could not be a better tribute to Claude Baker or to his years with the SLSO than the release of these recordings. They should serve admirably to introduce the work of the composer to those not so fortunate, as well.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
Ries: 3 Violin Sonatas / Grossman, Kagan
Ferdinand Ries was Beethoven’s student, close friend and biographer, but until quite recently was very much one of those composers living in the shadow of his Bonn master, rather than as the gifted and prolific composer he in fact was.
American pianist, author and educator Susan Kagan has explored the music of those composers associated with Beethoven and his musical scene. In fact she has researched the music of Archduke Rudolph – Beethoven’s composition student for more than twenty years – for her Ph.D. This was subsequently published by Pendragon Press back in 1988. More recently she has almost single-handedly championed the cause of Ries’s piano music, with five CDs of his Sonatas and Sonatinas on the Naxos label.
Kagan explains: ‘Ries studied piano with Beethoven (both were natives of Bonn, Germany) and was entrusted by him with such work as making transcriptions and piano arrangements, and copying orchestral parts of Beethoven’s new works. Ries moved to England in 1813, married an Englishwoman, and had a successful career touring as a virtuoso concert pianist. At the same time he was composing prodigiously and virtually everything he wrote was published. His thorough knowledge of Beethoven’s music undoubtedly helped shape Ries’s style, but his piano sonatas, from 1809 on, show an adventurous turn toward an expressive keyboard style anticipating that of the first generation of Romantic piano composers – Mendelssohn, Chopin, and Schumann. His gift for melody is like Schubert’s, and he is ever inventive in creating and developing beautiful themes. While his symphonies and concertos are ‘public’ works, intended for large audiences and concert halls, the piano sonatas are his most personally-expressive works, revealing an individual outlook on a genre of music cultivated by that great triumvirate of the Classical period – Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven.’
Ries also composed eighteen violin sonatas, which were brought out by Bonn music-publisher, Simrock, who also published much of Beethoven’s music. On this latest release from Naxos, Kagan is joined by violinist and fellow-American Eric Grossman, in an exploration of three of Ries’s violin sonatas, two from his op. 8 set, and his op. 19, all world-première recordings. However, unlike the piano sonatas, which have been released as part of a series of volumes, by starting here with a well-chosen selection from the eighteen extant examples, it gives the record company the option of releasing further violin sonatas in the future, or just letting this present single CD speak on behalf of the other fifteen.
It is interesting that the opening movements of the Sonata in F, Op. 8 No. 1, recorded first, and the Sonata in C minor, Op. 8 No. 2 that follows, have more than just a passing acquaintance with movements by Beethoven himself. While the latter first movement is very reminiscent of the corresponding movement from Beethoven’s Piano Sonata in the same key, Op. 10 No. 3, the F major Sonata opens in a pastoral vein, with a main theme which immediately hints at Beethoven’s ‘Spring’ Sonata for violin and piano in the same key. Rather than reinforcing the idea that Ries is merely mimicking his teacher – what follows, in both of Ries’s sonatas, after the initial ‘homage to Ludwig’, really does confirm that the younger composer has an individual voice, and subsequently embarks on quite a different musical journey from his master.
Of the violin sonatas as a whole, Kagan continues: ‘(They) are models of the Viennese Classical sonata style established by Mozart: most are in three movements, with first movements in sonata-allegro form, lyrical slow movements in ternary (ABA) form, and rondo finales. Like Mozart, Ries divides the material to provide equal interest for both instruments.’ The Sonata in F largely adheres to this pattern, though is, in fact, a four-movement work, with a sprightly Scherzo and Trio in the tonic minor (F minor) following the opening ‘Allegro ma non troppo’, before a conventional, though short slow movement, leads to the finale, with its essentially rustic theme. However, this soon contrasts with the central episode, where staccato triplets evolve into a vigorous fugato section (like a fugue, but not fully played-out), and something which, according to Kagan in her compact, yet succinct and informative sleeve-notes, is an unusual event in Ries’s music, where polyphonic writing is ‘generally avoided’.
The characteristic dotted rhythms and robust dynamics of the ‘Allegro con spirito’ that open the Sonata in C minor, imbue it initially with an almost martial character, but this soon turns lyrical, in which vein the ensuing ‘Adagio cantabile’ slow movement continues, and which also then acts as the perfect aperitif to the lightness of the closing rondo, with its staccato texture and preponderance of rapid repeated notes.
The so-named Grande Sonata in F minor, while the shortest of the three works on the CD, is nevertheless conceived in large scale, both with regards structure and content, and with its key, and the dramatic insistence of the opening movement’s main theme, link it in character to Beethoven’s ‘Appassionata’ piano sonata, written some five years earlier. Unlike Beethoven’s work, Ries’s sonata begins with a short and poignant ‘Largo espressivo’ introduction – not unlike the opening of Beethoven’s earlier ‘Pathétique’ sonata, but providing nowhere near as dramatic a lead-in. Ries maintains the feverish mood of the ‘Allegro agitato’ throughout, despite the occasional sections away from the over-arching minor tonality, and the movement’s calmly-understated close. The following slow movement, in a gentle triple measure, and in the relative major key (A flat major), has a simple charm and eloquence that makes it extremely endearing and pleasing on the ear, but with sufficient contrast within, to hold the listener’s attention throughout. The overall playful mood of the final rondo also has more than enough variety, both rhythmically and melodically in its main theme and episodes, to sustain it, with some real fireworks in the central episode. The music has a decidedly Schubertian feel, both thematically, and in Ries’s use of tonality, where more remote keys figure, and there is often a characteristic shift from major to minor and back. Yet again Ries chooses to finish like a lamb, rather than a lion – something Beethoven does in the opening movement of his ‘Appassionata’, but not in the work’s tumultuous and clattering coda to the finale.
Whichever way you look at this latest Ries CD from Naxos, you will surely not be disappointed. The playing, positioning and recording are first-rate, and the three pieces recorded are charming, entertaining and with a good feel for motivic development. Whether they form part of a more extended investigation into the composer’s repertoire for violin and piano, or remain just a one-off sampler, at the bargain price offered, they are simply too good to miss.
– Philip R Buttall, MusicWeb International
Geminiani: Sonatas Vol 1 / Mosca, Pianca, Paronuzzi
GEMINIANI Violin sonatas, op. 4/1, 3, 6, 7, 10, 12 • Liana Mosca (vn); Antonio Mosca (vc); Luca Pianca (archlute); Giorgio Paronuzzi (hpd) (period instruments) • STRADIVARIUS 33853 (67:41)
William S. Newman, in his massive study of the Baroque sonata, listed Francesco Geminiani’s sonatas for violin and continuo (op. 1 from 1716 and op. 4 from two decades later) and for violin and cello (op. 5) and judged Geminiani’s knowledge of the violin to equal that of Giuseppe Tartini or Pietro Locatelli (the latter of whom, like Geminiani, had been a pupil of Arcangelo Corelli, though a more technically adventurous one), but considered his style to be more conservative. Of the six sonatas presented by Liana Mosca, Antonio Mosca (her father), Luca Pianca, and Georgio Paronuzzi, all but two consist of four movements (the others numbering three); none of the movements’ titles give a hint of their dance-like elements or rondo forms. Almost all the sonatas have been cast in major keys. Geminiani would later rework six of the 12 sonatas of op. 4 (including No. 1 and No. 7 from Stradivarius’s collection) as concerti grossi. While Mosca remarks in a personal note in the booklet that Geminani’s sonatas from op. 4 haven’t received a great deal of attention, Rüdiger Lotter included the First, Eighth, Ninth, and 10th (two from Mosca’s selection) in a program released on Oehms 356 that also included several sonatas from Antonio Maria Veracini’s op. 1 ( Fanfare 29:1).
Geminiani revised the sonatas of his op. 1 at about the same time as he published op. 4 and included in the new edition of op. 1 the kinds of ornaments that make so striking an impression in Mosca’s performance of op. 4, as in the First Sonata’s Adagio (and also that of the Third Sonata). In that movement, she also displays a rhythmic and dynamic flexibility to create a capricious expressive sensibility that apparently suits not only the works themselves but Geminiani’s reputation as an expressive performer (among some: Tartini called him il furibondo , while John Hawkins thought he lacked the fire of the later violinists of his era). The sonata’s second movement isn’t fugal; it depends for its effect on the piquancy of its homophonic lines, of which Mosca gives a tangy account. The continuo provides an ingratiating strumming accompaniment in the Largo, a backdrop against which Mosca makes at times startling adjustments to the solo’s dynamic level; the finale includes surprises after dramatic pauses, and Mosca times them with the acute sensibility of a persuasive rhetorician. In general, she produces a twangy though by no means sharp-edged tone from her violin (and a perhaps surprisingly full one from its lower registers), described as a Venetian instrument from about 1750.
Mosca and the ensemble bring vivacious wit to the second movement of the Seventh Sonata and its jaunty subject (do these suggest the stolidity for which Geminiani has sometimes been condemned?) and spice to the ornamentation of the sonata’s third movement, Moderato. The Adagio of the Third Sonata showcases, as well as the encrustations of ornamentation mentioned earlier, the sudden gestures that make the sonatas sound inventive, at least from an expressive point of view (that sense of invention, continues, reaching almost to the level of improvisation, in the ensuing Allegro). The Sixth Sonata, again in D Major, at first seems almost somber compared to the three that precede it on the program, until Mosca dispels whatever gloom might have enshrouded it with her bright gaiety in the second movement; similarly, she shifts from the almost romantic sensibility of the sonata’s Andante to crisp Gallic sprightliness (Geminiani spent time in Paris) in the final movement, recalling a similar vein in the works of Jean-Marie Leclair (also a musical descendent of Corelli, this time through Giovanni Battista Somis). The two three-movement sonatas omit the slow movement; what they lose in affetuoso they gain in starchiness (although the last Allegro of the 10th Sonata includes a slow episode that almost replaces the missing movement). A multisectional fantasy serves as the first movement of the 12th Sonata’s three.
Lotter deploys a more astringent tone in his recording but he hardly stints on ornamental or expressive detail. Still, Mosca’s unaffected geniality, dramatic Luftpausen , and rhetorical sensibility breathe extra life into her performances.
With its clean recorded sound, its imaginative performances, and its ingratiating literature, Mosca’s selection of Geminiani’s sonatas might serve either as a favorable introduction to the works of the composer for those who aren’t familiar with him or an enjoyable reminder for those who know him that he brought more than Corelli’s teachings to London. Strongly recommended to all types of listeners.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham
The Bach Family Album / Aulos Ensemble
J. C. BACH Quintet in D, op.22. J. S. BACH Aria, BWV 988; Minuets: BWV Anh.114 & 115; Polonaises: BWV Anh.123 & 125; Musette, BWV Anh.126. C. P. E. BACH Trio Sonata in G, Wq 144; Oboe Sonata in g, Wq 135. J. C. F. BACH Trio in c
"Founded in 1973, the Aulos Ensemble is one of America’s oldest period-instrument chamber groups, if not the oldest. The same five musicians have been with the group since the beginning: Christopher Krueger, Baroque flute; Marc Schachman, Baroque oboe; Linda Quan, Baroque violin; Myron Lutzke, Baroque cello; and Arthur Haas, harpsichord. Their Bach Family Album contains an imaginative selection—rather than programming major works of Old Bach, they have decided to include several short excerpts from the Clavier-Büchlein für Anna Magdalena Bach , arranged to suit the personnel. The famous Aria that begins the Goldberg Variations , for example, is presented here as a cello solo, expressively played by Myron Lutzke. All the other numbers are performed en symphonie with each member given a solo turn.
The bulk of the program is entrusted to three of the Bach sons, including one you don’t hear much about: Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach (1732–95), the so-called “Bückeburg Bach” and the oldest surviving son of Anna Magdalena. His trio for harpsichord, flute, and oboe is a vigorous but ultimately lightweight affair firmly planted in the late galant style. The writing pairs flute and oboe, often in thirds, against solo harpsichord. The Bach son conspicuous by his absence on the program is Wilhelm Friedemann; I would have gladly traded the Friedrich Bach trio for anything by Friedemann.
Johann Christian Bach’s quintet is a bit more substantial; it has been recorded at least once before on period instruments, by members of the English Concert and Trevor Pinnock in the late 80s. The work’s instrumentation is tailor-made for the Aulos Ensemble and they do it justice.
In the 18th century, the term “trio sonata” meant basically any work written for two instruments and basso continuo; the choice of melody instruments was often left to the performers. For its performance of the Emanuel Bach trio sonata, the Aulos Ensemble has chosen flute and violin for the upper parts, and the two instruments offset each other quite nicely. The performance is all one could wish for: idiomatic and expressive.
I am especially gratified to see that Marc Schachman was granted a solo spot on the CD. He is widely regarded as one of the leading Baroque oboists, but there are precious few examples of his playing on disc. His performance of the Emanuel Bach oboe sonata is authoritative and filled with delicious sounds.
The recorded sound is generally good, with excellent balance between the instruments. The rich-sounding harpsichord is given prominence when called for, as in the Christian Bach quintet. Recommended."
FANFARE: Christopher Brodersen
Complete Violin Concertos, Vol. 9
Echoes of a Hidden Legacy
Solti - Journey Of A Lifetime
SOLTI – Journey of a Lifetime Celebrating the 100th Anniversary of the birth of Sir Georg Solti A film by Georg Wübbolt
Featuring:
Valerie Solti
Valery Gergiev
Christoph von Dohnányi
Sir Peter Jonas
Clemens Hellsberg
Ewald Markl
and many more as interview partners as well as several musical excerpts conducted by Sir Georg Solti
Bonus:
Dmitry Shostakovich: Symphony No. 1 in F minor, Op. 10
Sergey Prokofiev: Symphony No. 1 in D major, Op. 25, “Classical”
Modest Mussorgsky: Khovanshchina: Prelude
Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Georg Solti, conductor
R E V I E W:
SOLTI: JOURNEY OF A LIFETIME • Georg Solti, cond; Chicago SO • C-MAJOR 711708 (DVD: 106: 00) A film by Georg Wübbolt
MUSSORGSKY Khovanshchina: Prelude. PROKOFIEV Symphony No. 1, “Classical.” SHOSTAKOVICH Symphony No. 1. Live: Chicago 1977
What is Georg Solti’s place in the pantheon of podium titans? He gained celebrity when he led the first complete recording of Wagner’s Ring to be issued. He created a comparable sensation when he took over the Chicago Symphony and led that orchestra in concerts and recordings that dazzled with their brilliance, virtuosity, and tonal splendor. In the 1970s Harold C. Schonberg, the influential chief music critic of the New York Times , pronounced Solti and Karajan the two most significant conductors of the age, characterizing Solti’s sonority as “molten gold,” in contrast to the “silvery” Karajan sound. As is usual, extravagant acclaim soon led detractors to weigh in, and Solti’s recordings began to be criticized as crude, unyielding, over-driven, excessively muscular, and lacking in nuance and refinement. Although he holds the record for the number of Grammy awards, his many recordings of standard symphonic repertoire rarely turn up today on lists of preferred versions, and he did not make BBC Music magazine ’s list of the 20 greatest conductors, as selected by a poll of 100 currently active conductors. (Nor, astonishingly, did Otto Klemperer or Bruno Walter.)
The centennial of Solti’s birth in 2012 saw the release on DVD of two documentaries about his life and career. The other one, which I have not seen, was reviewed by Lynn René Bayley in Fanfare 36:3. It is nearly three times as long as the one under review here and apparently more thorough and detailed, with a lengthier supplement of complete performances. The C Major release combines a 52-minute documentary with 54 minutes of performances by the Chicago Symphony. Filmmaker Georg Wübbolt was also responsible for a documentary on Carlos Kleiber that I reviewed in 35:1. As in that earlier effort, he follows the standard technique of interspersing commentary by those who knew the conductor, worked with him, or followed his career, with clips from rehearsals and performances. Solti himself is much more of a participant in the commentary than was Kleiber, who stopped giving interviews early in his career. Wübbolt also follows his earlier practice of shifting rapidly from one commentator to the next, which generates a fast-paced narrative but also leaves loose ends and unanswered questions. As in his earlier documentary, there are issues one would like to have discussed in greater detail. It is also sometimes hard to keep track of the identities of the commentators and their connection to Solti, since they are often not again identified when they reappear. They include Solti’s widow, Valerie, Christoph von Dohnányi, who served as his assistant in Frankfurt, Valery Gergiev, and the critic Norman Lebrecht, along with musicians and officials of the Chicago Symphony, the Vienna Philharmonic, the Frankfurt and Munich opera houses, the Bayreuth Festival, and others. Considering the importance of opera in Solti’s career, the absence of singers with whom he worked from the ranks of commentators is surprising and regrettable. The film is mostly in German, with English subtitles, although there is some narration and comment in English. Solti himself speaks in German.
The documentary provides a succinct overview of Solti’s career: his musical training in his native Budapest under Bartók, Ernö Dohnányi, and Leo Weiner; his 1937 visit to Salzburg, where he met Toscanini and was recruited to serve as a repetiteur; his second meeting with Toscanini in Lucerne in 1939, on the eve of World War II, which resulted in his being stranded in Switzerland for the duration of the conflict. In postwar Germany, he finally had the opportunity to begin a conducting career, since most German conductors were temporarily barred by the victorious Allies from performing. He first headed the Bavarian State Opera in Munich, where life for him was very difficult. The opera orchestra (“all Nazis” according to Solti) did not take kindly to being led by a young Hungarian Jew and showed it. In 1951 he moved to the somewhat friendlier territory of Frankfurt. His career took a giant step forward when producer John Culshaw selected him for the Ring project over more senior and established figures, perceiving him as someone who was more amenable to the demands of the recording studio and capable of achieving the results Culshaw envisioned for this ground-breaking effort. The Decca Ring is said to have led to Solti’s appointment to head London’s Royal Opera, although most of Ring operas had not yet been released when this selection took place. After his successful although controversial tenure at Covent Garden (1961-71), where he brought the company to “the highest international standards,” he had had enough of presiding over opera houses and wished to devote himself to symphony orchestras. As music director of the Chicago Symphony (1969-91), he perhaps reached the peak of his career, bringing the orchestra to a level of world-wide acclaim it had never before approached. Not so successful was his brief tenure with the Orchestre de Paris (1972-75), described in the film as “a terrible orchestra” where “no one goes…except for the money.” Curiously, the documentary does not mention his involvement with the London Philharmonic, which he led in the years 1979-83 and with which he recorded Elgar’s symphonies and several Mozart operas, among other works. When Karajan died in 1989 prior to the Salzburg Festival, Solti was urgently requested to take over the production of Verdi’s Un ballo in maschera, which he did with some reluctance. Up to then he had never been invited to conduct at Salzburg or at the Berlin Philharmonic. There was no love lost between the two conductors, but they did listen to each other’s recordings to find out how the other was approaching a work. In Solti’s final years, he renewed his ties with Munich in guest appearances with the Bavarian Radio Symphony and returned to his homeland to lead the recently founded Budapest Festival Orchestra in a recording of works by his three teachers.
When the commentators attempt to characterize Solti’s style as a conductor, words like energy, vitality, and fire crop up repeatedly and are underscored by images of his abrupt, even violent movements on the podium. These movements, according to one observer, provoked orchestras to play loudly, and he had difficulty getting them to play more softly. In addition to fire, according to Gergiev, he possessed “icy control.” Other commentators mention his perfectionism, focus on detail, and special concern for rhythm, which are reflected in his practice of singing, or rather chanting, a passage to demonstrate how it should go. The Vienna Philharmonic cellist Werner Resel emphasizes and, I think, exaggerates the role of recordings in establishing Solti’s reputation, arguing that Solti “didn’t make a career by conducting concerts and delighting audiences but by making records that turned out to be great.” This gentleman apparently missed the decades in which Solti was thrilling audiences with his Chicago Symphony concerts, in Europe as well as the U.S. Peter Schmidl, another VPO musician, makes the surprising and demonstrably false claim that “Solti’s great career as a conductor became possible only when Böhm had stopped conducting and Karajan had died…and when Bernstein was no longer around,” in other words, in the last seven years of Solti’s life. The same observer, however, expresses regret that Solti was not called earlier to Salzburg, where he could have achieved great results.
The concert performances included as a supplement are drawn from a 1977 telecast featuring Russian music. The Khovanshchina Prelude is performed in Rimsky-Korsakov’s smoothed-out and comparatively bland revision. In the Prokofiev “Classical” Symphony, Solti’s weighty approach and the massive sound of the Chicago Symphony are perhaps not the best fit for this light and frothy music, but the piece is brilliantly played and enjoyable to hear. The fast-paced, forceful, and once again brilliantly played Shostakovich is the most satisfying item on the program. As was his practice, Solti tends to set a tempo and stick to it, without much inflection for expressive purposes, and with the solid, steady rhythmic underpinning that was one of his hallmarks. Others may bring more mystery and sense of underlying menace to this work, but with Solti the menace is quite overt. The sound is free from distortion, brilliant in tutti, and wide in dynamic range, if a bit opaque and lacking in spaciousness.
Returning to the question I posed at the beginning of this review, I have no definitive answer. Solti’s Ring , which has just been reissued in an expensive, hefty “super deluxe” edition and is said to be by far the best-selling classical recording of all time, retains its status, as does his Mahler Eighth, although even they are not without their detractors, as witness Lynn René Bayley’s unfavorable comments in 36:3. Solti’s legacy as an opera conductor, in Wagner, Strauss, Verdi, and, somewhat surprisingly, Mozart, seems to me secure. Although he was never one of my favorite conductors, he was one who engaged my interest, and I have a good many of his recordings of Beethoven, Brahms, Bruckner, Mahler, and others on my overburdened shelves. I will retain these performances as having enduring value, even if they would not necessarily be among my first choices for the works in question. Solti remains a worthy contributor to the almost infinite variety of performance that enriches our experience of music. For those interested in his life and career, the Wübbolt documentary, despite the shortcomings noted, offers a concise overview with many insights.
FANFARE: Daniel Morrison
1977 Video Production
Picture format: NTSC 16:9 (documentary) / 4:3 (bonus)
Sound format: PCM Stereo
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Languages: English, German
Subtitles: French, Spanish, Korean
Running time: 52 mins (documentary) + 55 mins (bonus)
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)
Unlocked - Brescianello, Vol. 2 / Chandler, La Serenissima
This album features the second half of Brescianello’s Opus 1; works 1 – 6 were released as Behind Closed Doors in 2022. La Serenissima passionately believe that Brescianello is a composer who deserves greater recognition with the result that many of his works have been included in releases dating from 2019, our first release on Signum. Solo concertos for violin alternate with Sinphonias for strings and continuo; both forms illustrate Brescianello’s talent for fusing virtuosity with the sweetest of melodies. Also included on the album is an orchestral suite in A major that finishes with a rousing Giga.
Johann Stamitz: Flute Concertos / Aitken, Katkus
J. W. STAMITZ Flute Concertos: in D; in C; in D; in G • Robert Aitken (fl); Donatas Katkus, cond; St. Christopher CO • NAXOS 8.570150 (69:15)
The music of Johann Stamitz (1717–57) is largely known through a handful of works. For clarinetists, the B? Concerto is arguably one of (if not the) earliest written for the instrument that uses both the upper clarion and the lower chalumeau registers, and thus earns its reputation for its modernity. Orchestral trios foreshadow the emerging symphony; and his later works, including the La melodia germanica series published in Paris in 1756, not only are some of the earliest to establish the four-movement conventional symphonic pattern, but they also popularized the orchestral effects associated with the Mannheim orchestra, of which Stamitz was the concertmaster. These include rapid scales (the so-called coup d’archet ), the layered crescendo (the original Mannheim steamroller), and the rapidly ascending triads known as the Mannheim rocket. Less well known is the fact that he was a prolific composer, who, in his position, was able to experiment with the capabilities of his instruments, the various textures that could be obtained, and with form and structure. As a result, his efforts had far-reaching impacts upon the music and composers that followed him.
Stamitz was active during a period that one either can characterize as galant or (to borrow a term from literature) empfindsam . Both of these are tricky to translate accurately in musical terms, the former meaning something like “polite” or “well bred” and the latter “emotional” or “sensitive” (and there are other words that work as well). But what it really means for the listener is that there is a new sense of freedom to explore the capabilities of the music, to play with rhythm and contrast, and to develop new genres and styles. This disc presents four of his flute concertos, probably written for Johann Baptist Wendling, a flutist who was arguably one of the best of the entire century. Considering that the instrument was made of wood and had only a couple of keys, both the tone production and technical capability was limited, making the instrument more appropriate to chamber work than playing versus an orchestra, particularly one the size and power of Mannheim. In all four works, Stamitz demonstrates a skill that focuses on a dazzling display of technical virtuosity that is rarely overshadowed by the accompaniment. Even when he adds horns, as he does in the two D-Major concertos, the use is sensitive to the overall sonority. As for the flute part itself, if the listener, spoiled by the long, lyrical lines and regular phrases of the two Mozart pieces, seeks such in these works, disappointment will follow. Instead, there is a virtual compendium of pyrotechnics that leaves the listener breathless (not to mention the poor flutist). Rapid runs, leaps between registers, perpetual-motion figuration, and the rapid oscillation between duple and triple rhythms make this a flute virtuoso’s delight, as these works push the envelope of what is technically possible with the instrument. Moreover, in the C-Major Concerto, even the orchestral ritornello is technically demanding for the strings. These are not student works, but require the utmost of agility and ability to perform.
Aitken, fortunately, is quite up to the task. He takes the break-neck tempos of the opening movements with apparent ease and clarity of tone, allowing the display to come through. In the slow movements, he pulls back the throttle, but never enough to dull the sometimes-sensitive lyrical writing. For instance, in the C-Major Concerto, the second movement’s minor key, replete with echo effects, is delineated with precision and displays considerable musical deftness. In the G-Major final movement, he allows for the folk-like main theme to peer through the leaps and runs, providing a contrast that is both pleasing and a welcome relief to the pyrotechnics. Only occasionally does he blur his scales and leaps, though this may be an aftereffect of using a modern instrument.
The Lithuanian St. Christopher group provides a precise and understated accompaniment. One might have wished for more presence in the recording, but perhaps this was a decision by the sound engineer to focus on the flute. It is true that the music on this disc is mostly all about the flute and its ability, and this lends a certain sameness to each of the concertos, but if one concentrates upon the remarkable technical display, then one will find a perfect example of what can happen when a composer of this pivotal period pushes the aerobatic envelope of a more reticent and intimate instrument. We would be lucky to have the remaining 10 recorded in the future. Highly recommended.
FANFARE: Bertil van Boer
Johann Stamitz is a name well known in musical history, but his voice is seldom heard. This latest Naxos disc of flute concertos - two volumes of symphonies and one of orchestral trios are already available - is therefore a welcome release.
Famous as a virtuoso violinist and then as Kapellmeister of the celebrated Mannheim court orchestra, Stamitz presided over the establishment of that band of players and over the development of what became the ‘Mannheim style’ – disciplined playing, thrilling dynamics and innovative instrumentation. He played a key role in developing the symphonic form, and in transforming musical composition from the Baroque style to the nascent Classical sound.
As well as symphonies, Stamitz left behind a large number of concertos, including fourteen for flute. The four featured on this disc probably date from the 1750s and may well have been played by the Elector Carl Theodor, and by Mannheim virtuoso Johann Baptist Wendling, who so impressed Mozart on his visit to Paris in 1763 and Mannheim in 1777-78.
They are beautiful works, but the main problem is that there is little to distinguish one from the other. The two D major concertos in particular sound very much alike, although the horn parts in the second at least differentiate it from it predecessor. The C major concerto’s shift into C minor for the slow Andante offers some tonal variety, while rapid triplet figures for the soloist in the first movement keep the momentum alive.
But one cannot escape the feeling that these works were really vehicles for Wendling’s – or someone else’s – prodigious talents. Attention therefore falls on soloist Robert Aitken. His flawless technique and lightness of touch make him perfectly suited to this kind of repertoire. He is particularly impressive in the hugely demanding cadenzas in each concerto, although his forward positioning in the recording can make the flute sound a little shrill on the ear in some of the higher registers.
For their part, the St Christopher (formerly Vilnius) Chamber Orchestra under Donatus Katkus have few opportunities to shine. Nevertheless, they keep the accompaniment chugging along nicely, hinting at Haydnesque and Mozartian sounds to come.
-- John-Pierre Joyce, MusicWeb International
Beethoven: Piano Sonatas
Tchaikovsky: Orchestral Works, Symphonies 1-6 / Jarvi, Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) Gothenburg Symphony OrchestraNeeme Jarvi, conductor Symphony no 1 in G minor "Winter Dreams", Op. 13; Romeo &Â?JulietSymphony no 2 in C minor "Little Russian", Op. 17; Overture in FSymphony no 3 in D major "Polish", Op. 29; The Snow Maiden, Op.12Symphony no 4 in F minor, Op. 36; Symphony no 5 in E minor, Op 64Symphony no 6 in B minor "Pathetique", Op. 74; The Tempest;Overture on the Danish National Anthem; Voyevoda Dances;Dmitri Pretender and Vassily Shuisky; Serenade for N.Rubinstein;Capriccio Italien; Francesca da Rimini; etc.
Nassauische Hofmusik
Biber: Mensa Sonora, Battalia / Clarke, Baroque Band
REVIEW:
Since the demise of The City Musick some 16 years ago, Chicago has been without a period-instrument orchestra. Plenty of smaller chamber groups have been trying to fill the void, but it’s not quite the same as having a full-sized period orchestra that can tackle the larger works. Many metropolitan areas in North America can boast of having a Baroque orchestra—San Francisco, Boston, New York, Seattle, Cleveland, Toronto, Montreal. For a great city like Chicago to go without is unthinkable. The formation of the Baroque Band in 2007 was therefore something of an event and grounds for celebration. That this took place on the cusp of a severe economic downturn is even more remarkable. The present CD is the group’s debut recording, and shows it to consist of a nicely rounded 5-4-3-2-1 plus harpsichord, a healthy size by any standard. My thanks to Jim Ginsberg and his enterprising Cedille label for affording us non-Chicagoans the chance to examine the group for the first time.
In the press release to the CD, Baroque violinist and founder Gary Clarke speculates that this may be the first time the six suites of Biber’s Mensa sonora have been recorded using full orchestra, and he may be right. My past favorite, and the Baroque Band’s chief competition, is the version by Musica Antiqua Köln and Reinhard Goebel (Archiv 423701, nla). Naturally, one cannot expect the same sort of individualistic chamber-music approach from an orchestral performance, but within the context of a larger group, the Baroque Band plays with admirable style and precision. A minor quibble has to do with the omnipresent and very prominent harpsichord continuo. Well played as it is by David Schrader, the occasional inclusion of a theorbo or chamber organ would have provided some much-needed variety.
The featured work is the famous Battalia à 10 (subtitled “for violin, strings, and basso continuo in D Major” in the booklet), and its history on record is traceable to the classic premiere recording by Concentus Musicus from 1966. That LP, which contained several other works of Biber as well as music of Muffat, was rereleased on CD in the early ’90s as part of the Collectio Argentea series (Archiv 437081, nla). It’s fascinating to compare the two period-instrument performance styles of 1966 and 2010. Back then, violinist Alice Harnoncourt played with a very sweet, vibrato-y sound, but also with great authority and presence. Here, Gary Clarke is equally authoritative, but his sound is straighter and ultimately more apropos than Harnoncourt’s. Compared to the ultra-polished but somewhat laid-back Concentus Musicus, the Baroque Band is a well-drilled regiment, clearly in command of the music. It plays with greater energy and really digs into the Bartók pizzicati in “Die Schlacht.” The players ham it up delightfully in the Lamento movement, a perfect depiction of a bunch of drunken soldiers. The “fife and drum” movement is memorable—for once, the parchment-wrapped double bass really sounds like a drum. Of the several versions that have appeared over the years, including MAK’s, the Baroque Band’s is the most successful in capturing the spirit of this unusual and innovative music.
My main complaint about the CD is that there isn’t enough of it! A timing of 56 minutes is pretty skimpy these days—it would have been easy to add another couple of works by Biber, the Pauern Kirchenfahrt , perhaps, or the Sonata representativa . The recorded sound is first-rate, and Gary Clarke’s notes afford a good introduction to the music. An excellent, urgently recommended debut disc.
FANFARE: Christopher Brodersen
Biber's Mensa Sonora ("Sonorous Table") doesn't get as much play as some of his more virtuosic violin works, but it contains splendid music nonetheless. By any standard this is an excellent performance for a period-instrument group, largely because director Garry Clarke made the smart decision to use a larger-size ensemble rather than having the music played one to a part. In his booklet notes Clarke offers all kinds of ridiculous "historical" reasons supporting this decision, and it's sad that today it is unacceptable for period-instrument performers to offer the one reason that we know would have been as valid in the composer's own time as it is in ours: the music sounds better this way.
Mensa Sonora consists of six parts (called "Pars" appropriately enough), each containing from five to seven brief movements. These range from delicate arias and sarabandes to the vigorous and rhythmically inventive second Balletto from Pars II, and including a couple of imposing Chaconnes (in Pars III and VI). A larger ensemble gives more weight and sonority (that's "Sonora", right?) to the big moments, and a richer but still intimate sound to the lighter ones. Sure, there's the usual minimization of vibrato, which is wrong, but with multiple players it matters less than usual, and to his credit Clarke permits them none of that whiny squeezing of notes that so many period ensembles deploy to the point of mannerism in lyrical passages.
The Battalia makes a substantial bonus. Clarke and his company really play up the battle scene, and the drunken soldiers make a jolly cacophony. Only the final lament of the dying doesn't quite work--it seems to me that it should be simply touching and played more or less straight, without the lachrymose chromaticism exaggerated quite so much. Of course, this is very much a matter of taste. As usual with this label, the engineering is superbly natural and well-balanced. A fine disc that all fans of Baroque music will want to consider.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Telemann, Mozart, Britten & Kikta: Horn Universe – Works for
Strauss: Arabella / Fleming, Hampson, Thielemann
2014 marks a year of celebration recognizing the 150th birthday year of the German late-Romantic orchestral, operatic and lied master composer, Richard Strauss (1864-1949). Arabella (premiered 1933, Dresden) was the last of the half dozen Strauss works to feature a libretto by the great Austrian writer Hugo von Hofmannsthal. This production, from the most recent Salzburg Easter Festival is, after Capriccio, the second of three Richard Strauss operas C Major is releasing in honor of the composer’s birth, life and work. The star-laden cast includes soprano Renèe Fleming, baritone Thomas Hampson, Albert Dohmen (Covent Garden, Wiener Staatsoper, MET) and Gabriela Benacková (Wiener Staatsoper, Covent Garden). With Christian Thielemann and the Staatskapelle Dresden, “the music of Richard Strauss is in the best of hands.” (ORF) “Thielemann gets the best out of the cast...especially Renée Fleming with her “luxurious” soprano …” FAZ
Richard Strauss
ARABELLA
Graf Waldner - Albert Dohmen
Adelaide - Gabriela Be?a?ková
Arabella - Renée Fleming
Zdenka - Hanna-Elisabeth Müller
Mandryka - Thomas Hampson
Matteo - Daniel Behle
Sächsischer Staatsopernchor Dresden
(chorus master: Wolfram Tetzner)
Staatskapelle Dresden
Christian Thielemann, conductor
Florentine Klepper, stage director
Martina Segna, set designer
Anna Sofie Tuma, costume designer
Bernd Purkrabek, lighting designer
Volker Michl, choreographer
Recorded live at Salzburg Easter Festival, 2014
Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS 5.0br> Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: German, English, French, Spanish, Chinese, Korean, Japanese
Booklet notes: English, German, French
Running time: 178 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Bach: Sonatas For Violin & Harpsichord Vol 1 / Dael, Asperen
Comberti's fast movements at times sound too careful, while van Dael's have an air of frenzy about them that can produce sheer excitement (the Allegro of Sonata No. 2; the two Allegros in No. 4) or nervousness (the final movement of the first sonata), sensations that of course also will vary from listener to listener. There are exceptions: van Dael's slower Adagio in the E major sonata is exquisitely expressed, a lovely rendition of one of Bach's finest "arias", and her dashing final Allegro caps one of the set's highlights. The darker hues of van Dael's violin come into play most prominently in the C minor sonata's slow movements--the sumptuous opening Largo, whose gorgeous melody is the ancestor of "Erbarme dich" from Bach's St. Matthew Passion, and in the viola-like register of the Adagio. In contrast, Comberti's faster Largo sounds less like a song and the harpsichord's undulating figures are more noticeable, almost as if the players were consciously working to obliterate any associations with the melody's more famous religious context (there are hints of this in Tilney's detailed liner notes). Even so, Comberti and Tilney's slightly more leisurely Adagio in the same sonata is very effective, especially the rich violin tone, and here you particularly notice and appreciate the benefits to the overall sonority allowed by the Dorian recording's more even balance. Again, however, the more drawn-out final Allegro sounds merely workmanlike in comparison to van Dael's justly spirited rendition.
Two problems are solved in two different ways by the producers of each recording. First, the Sonata No. 6 went through several changes during Bach's lifetime and therefore the question arises as to how to treat the several existing alternative movements. Comberti and Tilney play the generally accepted five-movement version and add the "Cantabile" movement at the end of the disc as a separate track. Van Dael and van Asperen do the same, except that, in the interest of completeness and to fill out the disc's timing, they add three other alternative movements not found on the Dorian disc. Which brings us to the question of timing: the six sonatas are too long for one disc, too short for two. Dorian adds two "rarely played" harpsichord suites while Naxos chooses to skimp a little on the second disc's timing, which even with the added Sonata No. 6 movements comes to only 49:14. However, at Naxos' budget price, this shouldn't present a major concern even for those time-equals-value CD buyers--less is certainly not less in this case.
Needless to say, it's tough to choose a clear winner here--as so often happens, it's more a matter of personal preference, particularly regarding the instrumental balances. Both performances are top notch, cleanly and clearly articulated and characterized by an almost uncannily similar interpretive manner. I tend to prefer van Dael's singing style and richly colored instrument in the slow movements, but I also find Comberti and Tilney's equally weighted interaction provides a powerful richness to the textures that perhaps lends more legitimacy to their interpretation. Anyone for both? [Editor's note: the complete set of six sonatas on either Naxos or Dorian must be purchased in two separate volumes. The above review applies to the complete set although only volume 1 is indicated in the review heading.]
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com
Easy-Listening Piano Classics: Bach
Fantasia - Mozart on the Organ
Franck: Complete Organ Works / Hans-Eberhard Roß
FRANCK COMPLETE ORGAN WORKS • Hans-Eberhard Roß (org) • AUDITE 21413 (6 CDs: 411:46)
When it comes to the organ, I think it’s safe to say that César Franck is the most important composer since Bach, and here we have a survey of Franck’s organ music so complete that it would take an entire page to list the entire contents of these six discs in standard Fanfare headnote format. In fact, there’s not another collection in existence this complete—not Jean Guillou’s, Marie-Claire Alain’s, Anthony Newman’s, or anyone else’s—since whole discs full of items here are flagged as being premiere recordings, premiere recordings for organ, premiere complete recordings, or premiere complete recordings for organ. So, I have decided to describe the set’s contents on a disc-by-disc basis. Let me forewarn the reader, though, that this is a release dedicated to the doggedly determined among lovers of organ music in general and Franck’s organ music in particular.
Organist Hans-Eberhard Roß performs all 142 pieces on a single instrument, the Goll organ at St. Martin’s Church in Memmingen, Germany. I haven’t been able to find any detailed information on the organ builder, but the enclosed booklet gives the following specifications for the organ: built in 1998, it has four manuals plus pedal, controlling 62 registers. The recordings were made between 2004 and 2005 and were originally released in three two-disc sets in SACD. The boxed-up, six-disc set that came to me for review was on standard, two-channel CDs.
One criticism I will lodge about the presentation is this: the track listings for every piece give the date it was composed, the date it was published, and which of nine editions Roß uses. This last bit of information about the editions may be of interest to the musicologist or scholar studying Franck’s organ works, but more interesting to the general listener, I think, would have been a concordance of stops and registrations used for each piece, something I’ve seen in the notes to other organ recordings, and something that ought, I think, to be material to an undertaking of this seriousness.
Disc 1 starts off with a first-time recording of Pièce en mi bémol ; i.e., Piece in E?. Of course, you’d have to listen to it to know if it was major or minor, but I’ll save you the effort. It’s more or less both, opening with a chord progression that eerily anticipates the ear-curling pronouncement at the beginning of Poulenc’s Organ Concerto. This is followed by another early work, Pièce pour Grand Orgue . It’s not asterisked as a premiere recording but is nonetheless absent from current listings except for this version. Several more early works fill the first disc, all dating from between 1854 and 1856. There are five pieces by Franck originally written for harmonium and transcribed for organ by Louis Vierne, and this is their first time on record. Also a first on record is a first version of a Fantaisie in C Major. Its second version, apparently not a first on record, is also included on the disc. Roß, himself, has transcribed the harmonium piece, Quasi Marcia , op. 22, and plays it here for the first time on organ.
If it’s mainly a CD of Franck’s big organ hits you want, you would be happy with just disc 2. They’re all there in one place: the Fantaisie in C Major, op. 16, the Grand Pièce Symphonique , op. 17, the Prélude, Fugue, et Variation , op. 18, the Pastorale , op. 19, Prière , op. 20, and Final, op. 21.
Disc 3 contains no fewer than 39 short pieces collected under the heading of Posthumous Pieces for Harmonium or Organ with Pedal for L’Office Ordinaire . This spills over onto disc 4, which contains another seven pieces that are part of the same collection. The fourth disc is then filled out by Three Pieces for Grand Organ , a Petit Offertoire , and an Untitled piece, that last two of which were both originally for harmonium. The entire contents of discs 3 and 4, with the exception of the Three Pieces for Grand Organ , are flagged with three asterisks (***), referencing the fact that they are heard here for the first time complete on organ.
Disc 5 and almost all of disc 6 are occupied by Franck’s answer to Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier , the sets of Pieces for Organ or Harmonium. The number seven must have held some mystical significance for Franck because there are nine sets of these pieces, each containing seven numbers, beginning with 7 Pieces in C Major and C Minor , progressing to 7 Pieces in D?-Major and C?-Minor , then to 7 Pieces in D Major and D Minor , which he subtitles, Pour le temps de Noël , and so on. The cycle stops after the 7 Pieces in A?-Major and G?-Minor , leaving the keys of A, B?, and B unexplored. There’s nothing mysterious or supernatural about the reason; Franck died before he was able to finish the project. The entirety of the Pieces for Organ or Harmonium is also thrice asterisked, meaning this is its first complete recording on organ. The final disc in the set concludes with the 3 Chorales for Grand Organ.
At first, I was a bit skeptical of how Franck’s organ music would sound on a modern, German-built instrument. It’s difficult to disassociate these works from the Cavaillé-Coll organs that inspired them. Much of this music, in fact, was composed during Franck’s tenure as organist and maître de chapelle at Sainte-Clotilde between 1858 and 1872. Of the three-manual plus pedal Cavaillé-Coll organ installed in the church, Franck is quoted as saying, “If you only knew how I love this instrument . . . it is so supple beneath my fingers and so obedient to all my thoughts.”
Concluding the 63-page booklet note by Martin Weyer (translated by Viola Scheffel) is a lengthy apologia in defense of playing these works on a Goll organ. The author twists himself in knots talking about the historical period-instrument movement and then tries to turn the argument on its head by explaining why this modern Goll instrument is an appropriate substitute for a Cavaillé-Coll organ and Franck’s music. “Upon hearing the instrument,” Weyer contends, “one will discover a lot of similarities to the sort of instrument that Franck found inspiring.” One could counter that many an organist has recorded Franck’s organ works on authentic Cavaillé-Coll instruments, and that if organist Hans-Eberhard Roß had betaken himself to France to make these recordings, he could have done likewise. But, as far as I’m concerned, the point is irrelevant. Roß is a consummately accomplished player who uses the richly variegated palette of the Goll organ to paint Franck’s pieces in an amazing array of tonal color combinations both bright and subtle, and the acoustic of Memmingen’s St. Martin church, perfectly captured by Audite’s engineers, is ideal. Franck and Cavaillé-Coll are nodding their heads in approval.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Westerhoff: Concertos / Symphonieorchester Osnabrück
When the Osnabrück Symphony Orchestra goes to the studio, it is working on all the key features. This was the case with the symphonies of Joseph Bohuslav Foerster, and so it is with the latest product: Two viola and a flute concerto by Osnabrück composer Christian Westerhoff are immortalized. The orchestra thus ends with a recording of a symphony, a clarinet and a double concerto by Westerhoff, which has been recorded by Hermann Bäumer. Westerhoff was born in 1763, and was a real contendor of his time: no Mozart, no Haydn, no Beethoven, but certainly a composer who composed serious music. The viola concertos No. 1 in G major and No. 3 in C major sound lively and fresh - it is a pleasure to listen to the orchestra under Andreas Hotz. The two soloists have also played a decisive role in this: Barbara Buntrock plays the Solopart in the viola concertos, and the same applies to Gaby Pas-Van Riet as a soloist in the Flötenkonzert.