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Rosner: Orchestral Music, Vol. 3 / Palmer, London Philharmonic Orchestra
Toccata · Jan 2019CD$20.99 -
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SaleNielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4 / Gilbert, New York Philharmonic
Dacapo Classical · Sep 2014SACD$16.99$8.49 -
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Piano Music by Still & Other Black Composers / Monica Gaylord
Music and Arts Programs of America · Jul 2013CD$19.99 -
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SaleHandel: Water Music; Mozart: Symphonies 36 & 38 / Munch, Boston Symphony
ICA Classics · Feb 2012DVD$26.99$20.99 -
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Antonio Draghi & Leonardo García Alarcón: El Prometeo
Alpha
CD
$29.99
Mar 27, 2020
The original score of El Prometeo (Prometheus) is held in the Leopoldine Library in Vienna. It dates from 1669 and was written by Antonio Draghi, a composer who was also a singer, notably in the operas of Cavalli. For the first time in history, an Italian set a text in Spanish. The last act of El Prometeo has disappeared. But since the libretto of this act has survived, Leonardo García Alarcón decided to rewrite all the music for it. 'I immersed myself in Draghi's music in order to understand his style, his favorite intervals, the type of melody he composed and the type of basso continuo he was fond of, so as to try to produce a score that is worthy of him. So I hope that this third act will measure up to his music, his intentions and his creativity!' says the Argentinian conductor. Directing a brilliant cast (Fabio Trümpy, Mariana Flores, Giuseppina Bridelli, Scott Conner, Borja Quisa, Zachary Wilder, Ana Quintans), Leonardo García Alarcón brings this Baroque opera to life in Spanish, an opportunity to show his love for his mother tongue, 'a supremely musical language'!
Tartini: Sonatas For Violin Solo Vol 1 / Crtomir Siskovic
Dynamic
CD
$24.99
Jun 26, 2012
As Petrobelli wrote, Tartini's "declared intent was to achieve in the instrumental field, with a language suited to the nature of the instrument, the affections that are perfectly outlined in the arias of Metastasio's operas." The first sonatas of the collection are mostly structured in three movements, with a slow movement followed by two fast ones, as was Tartini's favourite scheme from the eighth sonata, instead, the structure in four movements becomes predominant, with a rich variety of formal patterns. Some movements bear mottos and literary quotations (like Metastasio's arias, frequently used also in the concertos, or Tasso's Aria Lieto ti prendo with which Tartini opens his Sonata No. 12 in G major, taken from the 12th canto of the Gerusalemme liberata). In them Tartini makes a fine display of his inexhaustible melodic creativity, always shunning easy symmetries and predictable developments. There are many passages with polyphonic hints, although virtuosity always appears subject to expressiveness and never a simple show of bravura. Frequent also are the hints and melodic inflections echoing popular songs and dances of the day, as for example in the Canzone Venetiana of the Sonata No. 12 in G major, or the second movement (Allegro assai) of the Sonata No. 5 in F major. Tartini is never obvious and even less predictable secluded in his Padua, he was a self-contained composer who disdained the world around him and possessed the creative power typical of - indeed, almost exclusive to - great anachronistic men.
Haydn: Piano Concertos No 3, 4, 9, 11 / Sebastian Knauer
Naxos
CD
$13.99
$19.99
Save 30%
Mar 25, 2008
Haydn’s keyboard music was at first written for the harpsichord, with later works clearly intended for the pianoforte, as dynamic markings show. His career coincided with changes in the standard keyboard instrument, as the fortepiano and then the pianoforte, with their hammer action and dynamic possibilities, gradually replaced the harpsichord and clavichord. At the same time there was a parallel change in instrumental forms, as the structure that has come to be known, among other titles, as sonata-allegro form, developed.
Unlike Mozart, a virtuoso soloist in his own piano concertos, Haydn had the usual competence of a successful professional musician of his time, able to lead the orchestras he directed from the violin, or, more commonly, from the keyboard. The demands on each composer were very different, with Mozart, particularly in the last decade of his life in Vienna, relying on his reputation as a performer and arranging his own subscription concerts, and Haydn, employed by a princely patron, with an orchestra and a theatre at his disposal, with the concomitant duties and relative security.
Before entering the service of the Esterházys Haydn had written works designed for keyboard, either harpsichord or organ, and a simple string ensemble. These now generally bear the title Concertino. The three concertos, the Concerto in F major, Hob.XVIII:3, Concerto in G major, Hob.XVIII:4 and Concerto in D major, Hob.XVIII:11, belong to a later period in Haydn’s career, a time when he was established at the palace of Eszterháza. The first of these, the Concerto in F major, was written before 1771, even as early as 1766, the date assigned to it in Haydn’s work catalogue, and the second, the Concerto in G major, Hob.XVIII:4, about 1770. Both concertos were originally scored for strings, with the horn parts in the outer movements of the Concerto in F major an apparently contemporary addition. The Concerto in G major was played in Paris in 1784 by the blind pianist Maria Theresia Paradis and was published there by Boyer, with revisions seemingly by the publisher, accretions now removed. It is scored for the usual orchestra of two oboes, two horns and strings.
The Concerto in D major, Hob.XVIII:11, similarly scored and now with the title Concerto per il clavicembalo o fortepiano, as opposed the designation ‘Oper il clavicembalo’ of the other two concertos, was once thought to be of doubtful authorship, its authenticity eventually confirmed by the discovery of a letter by Haydn to the French publisher Boyer, written in November 1784. An announcement of the new concerto by Boyer on 6th July 1784 provides a terminus ante quem non, and it was published in that year by Artaria in Vienna, by Boyer and Le Menu in Paris, by Hummel in Berlin and Amsterdam, and by Longman and Broderip in London. The work obviously enjoyed wide popularity, judging by the surviving copies from the period and its wide published dissemination. Particularly effective is the last movement, with its Hungarian Rondo. It might be added that the appearance of the Concerto in G major and the Concerto in D major aroused some contemporary scepticism, at a time when the attribution of lesser works to the famous Joseph Haydn had become too frequent.
The authenticity of the Concerto in G major, Hob.XVIII:9, has been doubted with greater justification. No original sources survive and the work was not entered into Haydn’s work-list, it is listed, however, in the Breitkopf catalogue of 1767, which at least provides a possible date before which it might have been composed. The relatively long minor key slow movement is an unusual feature for Haydn, and the concerto is scored, like the concertinos of Haydn, for harpsichord, two violins and bass.
The cadenzas for Concertos Hob.XVIII:3, 4 and 9 played here are by Sebastian Knauer, and those for Concerto Hob.XVIII:11 by Paul Badura-Skoda.
Keith Anderson
Unlike Mozart, a virtuoso soloist in his own piano concertos, Haydn had the usual competence of a successful professional musician of his time, able to lead the orchestras he directed from the violin, or, more commonly, from the keyboard. The demands on each composer were very different, with Mozart, particularly in the last decade of his life in Vienna, relying on his reputation as a performer and arranging his own subscription concerts, and Haydn, employed by a princely patron, with an orchestra and a theatre at his disposal, with the concomitant duties and relative security.
Before entering the service of the Esterházys Haydn had written works designed for keyboard, either harpsichord or organ, and a simple string ensemble. These now generally bear the title Concertino. The three concertos, the Concerto in F major, Hob.XVIII:3, Concerto in G major, Hob.XVIII:4 and Concerto in D major, Hob.XVIII:11, belong to a later period in Haydn’s career, a time when he was established at the palace of Eszterháza. The first of these, the Concerto in F major, was written before 1771, even as early as 1766, the date assigned to it in Haydn’s work catalogue, and the second, the Concerto in G major, Hob.XVIII:4, about 1770. Both concertos were originally scored for strings, with the horn parts in the outer movements of the Concerto in F major an apparently contemporary addition. The Concerto in G major was played in Paris in 1784 by the blind pianist Maria Theresia Paradis and was published there by Boyer, with revisions seemingly by the publisher, accretions now removed. It is scored for the usual orchestra of two oboes, two horns and strings.
The Concerto in D major, Hob.XVIII:11, similarly scored and now with the title Concerto per il clavicembalo o fortepiano, as opposed the designation ‘Oper il clavicembalo’ of the other two concertos, was once thought to be of doubtful authorship, its authenticity eventually confirmed by the discovery of a letter by Haydn to the French publisher Boyer, written in November 1784. An announcement of the new concerto by Boyer on 6th July 1784 provides a terminus ante quem non, and it was published in that year by Artaria in Vienna, by Boyer and Le Menu in Paris, by Hummel in Berlin and Amsterdam, and by Longman and Broderip in London. The work obviously enjoyed wide popularity, judging by the surviving copies from the period and its wide published dissemination. Particularly effective is the last movement, with its Hungarian Rondo. It might be added that the appearance of the Concerto in G major and the Concerto in D major aroused some contemporary scepticism, at a time when the attribution of lesser works to the famous Joseph Haydn had become too frequent.
The authenticity of the Concerto in G major, Hob.XVIII:9, has been doubted with greater justification. No original sources survive and the work was not entered into Haydn’s work-list, it is listed, however, in the Breitkopf catalogue of 1767, which at least provides a possible date before which it might have been composed. The relatively long minor key slow movement is an unusual feature for Haydn, and the concerto is scored, like the concertinos of Haydn, for harpsichord, two violins and bass.
The cadenzas for Concertos Hob.XVIII:3, 4 and 9 played here are by Sebastian Knauer, and those for Concerto Hob.XVIII:11 by Paul Badura-Skoda.
Keith Anderson
Weber: Symphonies, Bassoon Concerto / Luoma, Kantorow
BIS
SACD
$21.99
May 01, 2009
This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.
3323410.az_WEBER_Symphonies_1_2.html
WEBER Symphonies: No. 1; No. 2. Andante e Rondo ungarese. 1 Bassoon Concerto in F 1 • Jean-Jacques Kantorow, cond; Jaakko Luoma (bn); 1 Tapiola Sinfonietta • BIS 1620 (Hybrid multichannel SACD: 67:42)
There is little that can be done for Weber’s gauche, mindless early symphonies, written when he was 21. They are all sparks and bombast, with colorful surfaces but virtually no content. Single woodwinds (there are no clarinets) generally carry the tunes, passing them around the section, while strings offer some relief; brass join in for consistently loud, fanfare-like tutti. The general consensus has been to play the symphonies as fast as possible (to get them over with?). Kantorow does that too, and his 40-piece orchestra, playing modern instruments with all the snap, sparkle, and tonal panache of period practice—more so than Roy Goodman’s period-instrument Hanover Band—makes the most of the symphonies, aided by BIS ’s usual sensational recorded sound. Luoma’s bassoon stands out among the winds; Roger Norrington’s London Classical Players have better-balanced wind soloists, but the overall performances are not as precise. The Second Symphony opens this disc, beginning with a stunning two-bar fanfare; unfortunately, it never does anything with it, making the 10-minute Allegro seem endless. As if the composer immediately recognized the problem, the following three movements whiz by in a mere eight minutes. After the “final” coda and a pause, two brief pp notes from bassoon and low strings bring the proceedings to a close. Haydn did everything better, including jokes and false endings.
Concerted pieces always inspired the best from Weber: three for clarinet, three more for piano, one each for oboe and French horn. These two for bassoon are the cream of that instrument’s repertoire (there also was a kid named Mozart). Playing a bassoon built in 2000 by Wilhelm Heckel—I don’t know if he is related to the creator of the heckelphone—Luoma sails through both works with the greatest of ease, producing consistently lovely tones. Whatever happened to that grumpy old instrument that was so difficult to play?
The First Symphony comes last, probably so that its Presto finale, the most successful movement of the eight, can wind up the disc with a bang. As fine as the CD is, SACD opens up the sound, giving it more life. Trumpets and strings gain clarity and presence, which makes the winds recede slightly from the spotlight. Surround sound adds an airy feeling, but doesn’t alter the basic sound. If you must have Weber’s symphonies, this is certainly the disc to get, especially so given the bonus bassoon works. But the others mentioned also include marvelous bonuses: Melvyn Tan plays the fortepiano Konzertstück with Norrington, and Anthony Halstead plays a natural horn in the Horn Concertino with Goodman.
FANFARE: James H. North
Finely honed performances of charming music played with relish.
These works were all written between 1807 and 1811, so pre-date Weber’s fame as an opera composer. He had just left Breslau, having survived a dreadful accident when his father, a printer, left a nitric acid solution in a wine glass which his son absent-mindedly then drank. His next post was a temporary one, when he went to Bad Carlsruhe and the court of Count Eugen Friedrich of Württemberg-?ls, who, being himself a fair oboist, encouraged Weber to compose. Both symphonies were written there during these idyllic few months, the first in C major in December 1807 and January 1808, the second (also in C major) later the same month. Reflecting the resources he found there, the scoring lacks one flute and most surprisingly there are no clarinets. Solos for the rest abound however, some of them very demanding, so standards must have been high. Obviously the oboe has his plate full, but the remaining winds, particularly the bassoon, are active, so too the French horn and some solo strings; in fact pretty well everyone has their fifteen seconds of fame. Written when Beethoven’s first three symphonies were already known, it is important to regard Weber’s more in Haydn’s style, with the crossing of the cusp between Classic and Romantic reflected more by orchestral colour than any disturbance of formal structure. Even so, these are not predictable works, in particular the finale of the Second, which stops and starts for individual solos before scampering on to the next pause like an American football game. This is Haydn’s wit at work. Much the same can be said of the First Symphony, which highlights individual wind players once again. It is full of confident orchestral outbursts on the one hand - the opera conductor here - and charming melodies of an almost rustic hue. At a minute and a half, the Minuet and Trio of the Second Symphony must be the shortest ever. Note that this recording inexplicably starts with the Second Symphony and ends with the First, easy to miss that as both are in the same key.
The rest of the fare is devoted to two concerted works for bassoon and orchestra. The brief Andante and Hungarian Rondo was originally composed in 1809 for Weber’s violist brother Fritz, while the bassoon transcription was made for the virtuoso player Georg Friedrich Brandt with some inevitably consequent changes. The Rondo’s rhythms emphasise the Hungarian flavour of the music. Weber’s writing exploits fully the facility of the instrument, its agility over a wide range of notes, tonal quality, and its lyrical as well as comical element. It was in March 1810 that he found himself conducting a concert with the Munich Court Orchestra, its programme including a clarinet concertino he had written for Heinrich Bärmann. Its success encouraged the orchestra’s principal players to ask for solo works, so two concertos for clarinet followed in 1811 and, on 28 December, a bassoon concerto for Brandt. He made some revisions in 1822, expression and dynamic indications expanded and some string accompaniments rewritten, and this is the version heard on this CD.
The performances by Jaako Luoma are finely honed in both works. His instrument paints a wide palette of colour, his phrasing is stylish. The Tapiola Sinfonietta under its former (1993-2000) director Jean-Jacques Kantorow match him in detail in a cleanly balanced recording. Both symphonies are played with relish, all solo opportunities exploited to the full. The music is charming, but Weber is surely still going to be remembered best for his operas and their overtures, but at least it gives clarinettists and, in this instance, bassoonists a chance to shine.
-- Christopher Fifield, MusicWeb International
WEBER Symphonies: No. 1; No. 2. Andante e Rondo ungarese. 1 Bassoon Concerto in F 1 • Jean-Jacques Kantorow, cond; Jaakko Luoma (bn); 1 Tapiola Sinfonietta • BIS 1620 (Hybrid multichannel SACD: 67:42)
There is little that can be done for Weber’s gauche, mindless early symphonies, written when he was 21. They are all sparks and bombast, with colorful surfaces but virtually no content. Single woodwinds (there are no clarinets) generally carry the tunes, passing them around the section, while strings offer some relief; brass join in for consistently loud, fanfare-like tutti. The general consensus has been to play the symphonies as fast as possible (to get them over with?). Kantorow does that too, and his 40-piece orchestra, playing modern instruments with all the snap, sparkle, and tonal panache of period practice—more so than Roy Goodman’s period-instrument Hanover Band—makes the most of the symphonies, aided by BIS ’s usual sensational recorded sound. Luoma’s bassoon stands out among the winds; Roger Norrington’s London Classical Players have better-balanced wind soloists, but the overall performances are not as precise. The Second Symphony opens this disc, beginning with a stunning two-bar fanfare; unfortunately, it never does anything with it, making the 10-minute Allegro seem endless. As if the composer immediately recognized the problem, the following three movements whiz by in a mere eight minutes. After the “final” coda and a pause, two brief pp notes from bassoon and low strings bring the proceedings to a close. Haydn did everything better, including jokes and false endings.
Concerted pieces always inspired the best from Weber: three for clarinet, three more for piano, one each for oboe and French horn. These two for bassoon are the cream of that instrument’s repertoire (there also was a kid named Mozart). Playing a bassoon built in 2000 by Wilhelm Heckel—I don’t know if he is related to the creator of the heckelphone—Luoma sails through both works with the greatest of ease, producing consistently lovely tones. Whatever happened to that grumpy old instrument that was so difficult to play?
The First Symphony comes last, probably so that its Presto finale, the most successful movement of the eight, can wind up the disc with a bang. As fine as the CD is, SACD opens up the sound, giving it more life. Trumpets and strings gain clarity and presence, which makes the winds recede slightly from the spotlight. Surround sound adds an airy feeling, but doesn’t alter the basic sound. If you must have Weber’s symphonies, this is certainly the disc to get, especially so given the bonus bassoon works. But the others mentioned also include marvelous bonuses: Melvyn Tan plays the fortepiano Konzertstück with Norrington, and Anthony Halstead plays a natural horn in the Horn Concertino with Goodman.
FANFARE: James H. North
Finely honed performances of charming music played with relish.
These works were all written between 1807 and 1811, so pre-date Weber’s fame as an opera composer. He had just left Breslau, having survived a dreadful accident when his father, a printer, left a nitric acid solution in a wine glass which his son absent-mindedly then drank. His next post was a temporary one, when he went to Bad Carlsruhe and the court of Count Eugen Friedrich of Württemberg-?ls, who, being himself a fair oboist, encouraged Weber to compose. Both symphonies were written there during these idyllic few months, the first in C major in December 1807 and January 1808, the second (also in C major) later the same month. Reflecting the resources he found there, the scoring lacks one flute and most surprisingly there are no clarinets. Solos for the rest abound however, some of them very demanding, so standards must have been high. Obviously the oboe has his plate full, but the remaining winds, particularly the bassoon, are active, so too the French horn and some solo strings; in fact pretty well everyone has their fifteen seconds of fame. Written when Beethoven’s first three symphonies were already known, it is important to regard Weber’s more in Haydn’s style, with the crossing of the cusp between Classic and Romantic reflected more by orchestral colour than any disturbance of formal structure. Even so, these are not predictable works, in particular the finale of the Second, which stops and starts for individual solos before scampering on to the next pause like an American football game. This is Haydn’s wit at work. Much the same can be said of the First Symphony, which highlights individual wind players once again. It is full of confident orchestral outbursts on the one hand - the opera conductor here - and charming melodies of an almost rustic hue. At a minute and a half, the Minuet and Trio of the Second Symphony must be the shortest ever. Note that this recording inexplicably starts with the Second Symphony and ends with the First, easy to miss that as both are in the same key.
The rest of the fare is devoted to two concerted works for bassoon and orchestra. The brief Andante and Hungarian Rondo was originally composed in 1809 for Weber’s violist brother Fritz, while the bassoon transcription was made for the virtuoso player Georg Friedrich Brandt with some inevitably consequent changes. The Rondo’s rhythms emphasise the Hungarian flavour of the music. Weber’s writing exploits fully the facility of the instrument, its agility over a wide range of notes, tonal quality, and its lyrical as well as comical element. It was in March 1810 that he found himself conducting a concert with the Munich Court Orchestra, its programme including a clarinet concertino he had written for Heinrich Bärmann. Its success encouraged the orchestra’s principal players to ask for solo works, so two concertos for clarinet followed in 1811 and, on 28 December, a bassoon concerto for Brandt. He made some revisions in 1822, expression and dynamic indications expanded and some string accompaniments rewritten, and this is the version heard on this CD.
The performances by Jaako Luoma are finely honed in both works. His instrument paints a wide palette of colour, his phrasing is stylish. The Tapiola Sinfonietta under its former (1993-2000) director Jean-Jacques Kantorow match him in detail in a cleanly balanced recording. Both symphonies are played with relish, all solo opportunities exploited to the full. The music is charming, but Weber is surely still going to be remembered best for his operas and their overtures, but at least it gives clarinettists and, in this instance, bassoonists a chance to shine.
-- Christopher Fifield, MusicWeb International
COMPLETE ERATO RECORDINGS
WARNER CLASSICS
CD
$160.49
Jul 25, 2025
Aldo Ciccolini (1925-2015) launched his career in 1950 after winning the prestigious Marguerite Long Competition. A child prodigy, he dedicated himself to rigorous study, drawing influence from Busoni, Liszt, and the Bel Canto tradition, which shaped his emotionally charged interpretations-he described himself as a "lirico spinto pianist." His rich discography, largely released by Warner/Erato, includes complete piano cycles by Liszt, Saint-Saens, and Severac, along with acclaimed performances of Debussy and Satie. This enriched collection also features exclusive, previously unreleased recordings, including live recitals at the Nohant Festival and a studio session of his favorite Encore pieces. To experience Aldo Ciccolini through his extraordinary recorded legacy is to be immersed in a masterclass of elegance and humility, struck by the richness of his tone or captivated by the mysteries of an entrancing piano.
Mahler: Symphony No. 5 / DePreist, London Symphony
Naxos
CD
$9.99
$19.99
Save 50%
Dec 12, 2006
MAHLER Symphony No. 5 • James DePreist, cond; London SO • NAXOS 8.557990 (72: 43)
The Mahler symphonies have had a somewhat episodic history on Naxos: most of the recently completed cycle features Antoni Wit conducting either the Polish National Radio-TV Orchestra or the Warsaw National Philharmonic; but the recordings of the First, Seventh, and Ninth Symphonies were conducted by Michael Halász. Now, another Fifth appears, conducted by a distinguished American with the mighty LSO.
Whatever its provenance (and why look such an attractive gift horse in the mouth?), this is a sturdy, musically solid performance. The first movement is characterized by commanding fanfares and the steady tread of the funeral march. DePreist doesn’t linger over the latter, but he isn’t as hasty as Sir Roger Norrington in his view of the fanfares, either. One unusual gesture is the sudden ritenuto immediately after the eruption of the quicker tempo at the first Trio; this seems to suggest that the struggle is almost too much. The timpani introduction to the second Trio is muted, becoming almost an echo at the end of its phrase, an effect repeated at the end of the coda, where the muted trumpet, which echoes the opening fanfare, is almost inaudible—a very haunting effect, made that much more interesting by the final note, which is decisively sforzando.
The second movement is a convincing extension of the first, as the stormy opening gives way to the subdued echo of the funeral march. The two themes are convincingly alternated, the occasionally imploring character of the second theme suddenly giving way to optimism in the chorale that ends the development section; this is reinforced by its later D-Major variant, aptly described by Dr. Floros as “Vision of Paradise.” This performance amply demonstrates how apposite that characterization is, while the coda plunges the listener back into the maelstrom.
DePreist takes Mahler’s indication of nicht zu schnell to heart for the Scherzo, as a very expansive tempo (very similar to that of Michael Tilson Thomas in his new Fifth) produces music of geniality rather than robust jollity, and it is a bit short on vigor for a movement marked kräftig (the last minute is an exception, as the music dashes to the end). The LSO copes easily with the relaxed tempo, producing music of strength in addition to good humor. The sound production from Abbey Road Studios is clarity itself, allowing the wide variety of instrumental effects in this mammoth score to be heard while producing the necessary sonic punch when required. The soundstage is satisfyingly wide and deep, and on the whole this recording can stand comparison with most of the Mahler Fifths on the market. Fanfare ’s headnotes used to include the producer’s name, so I am happy to note here that the producer of this splendid-sounding recording is our own Michael Fine.
The Adagietto is decidedly old school, clocking in at 10:42; as with the MTT performance, this can work if one accepts that there are often conflicting feelings being voiced, and if, as is the case here, there is some flexibility in the tempo. The prominent harp assists in giving the illusion of movement in this otherwise timeless music. On the whole, DePreist makes a better case for this kind of interpretation than Tilson Thomas.
An echo of the amiability (and tempo) of the Scherzo is heard as DePreist ushers in the finale; the movement gains momentum as the rondo takes shape. The tempo marking Allegro giocoso , and the term Frisch, are utilized by Mahler to characterize this movement; “jolly” and “fresh” this interpretation certainly is, and the whole performance comes to an exhilarating close.
For a symphony as oft-recorded as the Mahler Fifth, there have been (surprisingly) few featuring this orchestra; I for one am grateful to Maestro DePreist and his crew for producing such a successful performance with one of the world’s premier Mahler orchestras. At the Naxos price, this is one of the Mahler bargains of the decade.
FANFARE: Christopher Abbot
Elgar: Sea Pictures, Polonia & Pomp and Circumstances Marches / Halle
Halle
CD
$20.99
Mar 11, 2016
The latest release in Hallé’s award winning Elgar Edition features the much anticipated studio recording of Sea Pictures, coupled with the lesser known tone poem Polonia and the five original Pomp and Circumstance Marches.
Premiered in 1899, shortly after the triumph of the Enigma Variations in London the previous month, Sea Pictures became an immediate hit (with two of the songs being performed with piano accompaniment for Queen Victoria at Balmoral two weeks after the premiere). The cycle of five songs for which Elgar selected a variety of poems from his wide knowledge of literature, features a range of masterly orchestral textures and stunning vocal settings.
The featured soloist is world renowned mezzo soprano Alice Coote, regarded as one of the leading artists of our day, equally famed on the great operatic stages as in concert and recital.
Polonia has long been overlooked but this recording will re-establish this highly engaging tone poem which quotes Polish tunes and Chopin, written as a tribute to Poland’s contribution to the Allied cause in the First World War, in a brilliantly orchestrated score.
Not all of the five original Pomp and Circumstance Marches are as universally well known as No.1 and No.4 and, although constructed on the same structural pattern, they display an extraordinary variety of character. These orchestral showcases are a perfect vehicle with which to display the technical and artistic skill of the Hallé under Elder.
Premiered in 1899, shortly after the triumph of the Enigma Variations in London the previous month, Sea Pictures became an immediate hit (with two of the songs being performed with piano accompaniment for Queen Victoria at Balmoral two weeks after the premiere). The cycle of five songs for which Elgar selected a variety of poems from his wide knowledge of literature, features a range of masterly orchestral textures and stunning vocal settings.
The featured soloist is world renowned mezzo soprano Alice Coote, regarded as one of the leading artists of our day, equally famed on the great operatic stages as in concert and recital.
Polonia has long been overlooked but this recording will re-establish this highly engaging tone poem which quotes Polish tunes and Chopin, written as a tribute to Poland’s contribution to the Allied cause in the First World War, in a brilliantly orchestrated score.
Not all of the five original Pomp and Circumstance Marches are as universally well known as No.1 and No.4 and, although constructed on the same structural pattern, they display an extraordinary variety of character. These orchestral showcases are a perfect vehicle with which to display the technical and artistic skill of the Hallé under Elder.
Mozart: Piano Trios, Divertimento In B Flat K 254 / Kungsbacka Trio
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Nov 18, 2008
MOZART Divertimento in B?, K 254. Piano Trios: No. 1; No. 3 • Kungsbacka Tr • NAXOS 8.570518 (63:28)
While the string quartet and piano trio almost certainly originated in earlier Baroque models, Franz Joseph Haydn is generally credited with having established both of them as permanent, formalized fixtures, if by no other measure than sheer dint of his voluminous output. At latest tally, Haydn’s piano trios number 45, though in the late 1970s, when the Beaux Arts Trio set out to record its monumental œuvre intégral for Philips, there were 43; and in a more recent period-instruments set from the Van Swieten Trio on Brilliant Classics that calls itself “complete” the total seems to have dwindled to 37. I suppose one could explain away the discrepancy based on an interpretation of what constitutes a piano trio; for clearly Haydn’s earliest efforts in the medium (he began writing trios as early as 1766 and continued as late as 1797) resemble more closely the trio sonata from which the piano trio most likely evolved.
No such ambiguities or count controversies exist when it comes to Mozart’s piano trios; for there are only six of them, and of those, all but one were written late in the composer’s life, between 1786 and 1788, a period that saw the creation of some of his greatest works. And yet, the trios have long been consigned to a seat at the back of the bus. It’s understandable, I suppose, to regard the modest forces of a piano trio as Lilliputian compared to the cast of singers and players to be marshaled for a performance of The Marriage of Figaro , completed in the same year as the G-Major Trio. But if you listen closely to these miniature masterpieces, you will hear the mature Mozart at work, with all of the perfection of craftsmanship and subtleties of melodic and harmonic expression to be found in the scores dating from the composer’s last five years.
That Mozart had the advantage of Haydn’s trios as models meant that he did not have to reinvent the wheel; it was ready-made for him to adopt and advance. Haydn had to learn how to free the cello from its trio sonata role of merely doubling the left hand of the keyboard part. Even in Mozart’s first foray into the medium, his 1776 B?-Major Divertimento, K 254, much of the time the cello still plays Doppelganger to the bass line. But by the time he came to write his five mature piano trios, Mozart had absorbed and in some ways surpassed what he learned from Haydn. I would not be prepared to claim, however, that the works in this medium, either by Haydn or by Mozart, prognosticate the piano trio’s future in the hands of Beethoven; for its transformation by Beethoven into a supersized and supercharged vessel for dramatic and expressive communication would cement its permanence, along with that of the string quartet, as the most populous and significant chamber music genre even unto the present day.
The 11-year-old Kungsbacka Trio (Malin Broman, violin; Jesper Svedberg, cello; and Simon Crawford-Phillips, piano) was formed in 1997 and takes its name from the Swedish town that hosted its first public performance in 2001. The current release, designated by Naxos as Volume 1, promises a follow-on disc containing Mozart’s remaining three trios. As of this writing, however, the Kungsbacka Trio has made only two other recordings—Schubert’s great E?-Major Piano Trio, also for Naxos, and for BIS a program of works by contemporary Swedish composer Karin Rehnqvist.
Despite the modest scale and the less than crown-jewel worth accorded these trios, there has been no dearth of high-profile ensembles that have committed them to disc, among them the always trustworthy Beaux Arts Trio, long available in a budget twofer from Philips, as well as more recent entries from the Florestan and Parnassus Trios on Hyperion and MDG respectively, and my own personal favorite from the Gryphon Trio on Analekta. Not to slight the period-instruments buffs, there’s also the Trio Stradivari on cpo and the London Fortepiano Trio on Hyperion.
The Kungsbacka Trio is a modern-instruments ensemble, but it plays stylishly and tastefully. Translation: articulation is crisp, vibrato is minimal, tempos are spirited in allegro movements and forward moving in andante movements, open strings are not avoided, and first-movement exposition repeats are taken.
For those who don’t already have one or more versions of these trios in their collections and/or who are not uncompromising advocates for period instruments, the Kungsbacka Trio can be recommended for very fine playing, and Naxos’s recording, at a price that can’t be beat, is excellent. A most satisfying first installment of Mozart’s six piano trios; I look forward to its completion.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Rosner: Orchestral Music, Vol. 3 / Palmer, London Philharmonic Orchestra
Toccata
CD
$20.99
Jan 04, 2019
The musical language of the New York-based Arnold Rosner (1945–2013) had its roots in the modal harmony and rhythm of pre-Baroque polyphony and evolved in an array of unusual directions, producing a style that is instantly recognizable and immediately appealing – as can be heard in the three works on this recording. Rosner’s Nocturne suggests the immensity – and the implacable violence – of outer space, whereas his overture Tempus Perfectum has its starting point in Renaissance dance. The monumental Sixth Symphony opens with music of volcanic ferocity and vehemence; the central Adagio then provides an island of troubled calm before the dignified opening of the finale presages a symphonic Allegro of wild, freewheeling energy; only when its immense force is spent does this powerful masterpiece sink to an uneasy close.
REVIEWS:
I first came across Arnold Rosner’s music on a 1990 Harmonia Mundi Modern Masters CD of tonal American 20th Century music, reviewed here and here (in a later reissue), and now available only as a download or second-hand. The work recorded there, the Responses, Hosanna and Fugue, was so evidently influenced by Vaughan Williams’s Tallis Fantasia that I was intrigued, to say the least.
This disc begins with the Nocturne Op.68, in which Rosner sought to suggest the movement of planetary bodies in the vastness of space. He tried to do this by initially evoking a mysterious swirling atmosphere that is occasionally interrupted by violent outbursts. Melodic fragments gradually coalesce into a melody for strings, which is further developed and intensified by the inclusion of the rest of the orchestra. Like many such ‘descriptive’ pieces composed over the last 150 years, one would never guess at the underlying creative stimulus, but that doesn’t make it any less enjoyable.
It is followed by Tempus Perfectum: A Concert Overture. Its archaic title reflects Rosner’s modern adaptation of a medieval form in 98 metre. Rosner was interested in early music and here he uses a type of canzona notable for its markedly rhythmic material and separation into distinct sections. The effect is of triads superimposed on the main theme at various points, and the work, which sounds markedly antique, gradually achieves a much more modern climax on (predominantly) strings and trumpets, before dying away.
The most impressive work on this superlatively recorded and performed CD, is Rosner’s 6th Symphony. Its first movement is one of extreme emotional turbulence, represented by ferociously explosive rather angular music that lasts for its ten-minute duration. I am strongly reminded of the first movement of the Vaughan Williams Fourth Symphony, although Rosner is not quite so dour.
I don’t think there can be much doubt that throughout the Symphony this influence persists, and the Sinfonia Antartica informs the second, slow movement. In fact, I am indelibly reminded of the ‘Landscape’ movement of the RVW work. Having said that, Rosner doesn’t quite manage to conjure up the stupefying power so evident in the Antartica, despite a slightly more colorful orchestral palette and a willingness to use the tam-tam almost to abandon. RVW brings an organ to the shattering climax of his symphony, but an organ is one instrument not employed by Rosner. The movement begins in a hushed atmosphere, with a slightly oriental sounding theme. This is developed towards the emotional centre of the movement where the composer’s use of strings (to emphasize the melody) is gradually superseded by the appearance of woodwind, brass and percussion to great effect.
His gift of writing impactive and indeed, memorable music, is very noticeable throughout the work, but particularly so in this movement and in the last, where RVW in ‘galumphing’ mode makes an appearance early on. A reliance on the cymbals and later, the tam-tam disturbs me a little – this is a trait that is very evident in the works of some contemporary American tonal composers, perhaps influenced, however subconsciously, by film music. Notwithstanding, since I love the sound of cymbals and tam-tam in a sumptuous orchestral panoply, I will remain only very slightly disturbed and revel in the sheer orchestral splendour of the whole thing. The final five minutes or so of the last movement begin with an ethereal woodwind solo, which appears repeatedly, sometimes on the brass, only to be interrupted by cataclysmic eruptions. The movement fades into silence with quiet recollections of earlier themes.
Throughout this CD the recording is truly splendiferous and the playing of the LPO is virtuosic beyond praise. It must be wonderful to hear these pieces performed live by this top-notch orchestra under the baton of a committed conductor, such as we have here in Nick Palmer. The booklet is detailed and informative in both biographical and musical detail. Toccata Classics are to be congratulated and praised for this release, consisting as it does entirely of first recordings. I look forward to others in the series.
-- MusicWeb International (Jim Westhead)
Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4 / Gilbert, New York Philharmonic
Dacapo Classical
SACD
$8.49
$16.99
Save 50%
Sep 09, 2014
REVIEW:
These are strong, exciting performances of symphonies that demand the sort of bold muscularity in their execution that these artists offer. In Alan Gilbert’s hands the First Symphony sounds extremely confident and wholly mature. It starts with a bang and the tension in the first movement never lets up. The playing of the New York Philharmonic throughout is fresh and unaffected, full of spirit and drive. Even the Andante flows purposefully forward, and contrasts nicely with the Allegro comodo that does duty for a scherzo–with its harmonic kinks so personal to Nielsen. The finale has the same “pedal to the metal” drive as the opening, bringing the performance to a rousing conclusion.
The performance of the “Inextinguishable” Fourth Symphony also features some really impressive energy and power. In the first movement the brass play with a precision and clarity that few other versions can match, and in the finale the dueling timpani compete with real bravura. The slow movement here reminds me of Shostakovich in its bleak intensity, and my only quibble with Gilbert’s interpretation concerns the symphony’s coda where, like most of his colleagues, Gilbert broadens the pace in the closing bars when Nielsen clearly wants to drive the music home in tempo. Gilbert does pull it off: with an orchestra that has the weight and strength of the New York Philharmonic the effect is convincing, but Gibson (on Chandos) remains unmatched here.
Dacapo’s engineering, as with the previous release in this series, is natural and very present. The woodwinds feel just slightly recessed in more fully scored sections, but I can attest that the music really does sound like this in actual performance with a large orchestra, and certainly nothing gets lost. More importantly, the engineers have captured the impression of a live performance, caught on the wing, and the audience is mercifully quiet. This is a very impressive release.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
The Romantic Piano Concerto Vol 2 / Michael Ponti
Vox
CD
$29.99
Jan 01, 1992
This is one of seven volumes that represent the art some of the performing virtuoso-playing composers of the Romantic tradition. The notes tell us that each volume attempts stylistically to integrate composers who belonged to the same milieu and enjoyed professional relationships with each other.
Moscheles' Concerto, Op. 58 is said to be one of his finest works, showing the classical influences of Beethoven, Schubert and Chopin. From the opening of the Allegro moderato one can be forgiven for thinking you are listening to an orchestral score composed by Mendelssohn. However the piano lines have more of a Saint-Saëns ring about them. Bold statements punctuate gently-flowing passages with lightweight orchestral involvement. The Adagio contains recitative-like figures with background tremolos that eventually lead into an Allegro agitato. This movement skips along with a bright theme that is extemporised and builds to a suitable coda and rousing close.
Hiller's compositions are largely forgotten now but in his day his works reached the concert hall. His piano impromptu Zur Gitarre was played by Clara Schumann. His Concerto, Op. 69 contains some lovely melodies and has for too long been neglected, a point the CD notes confirm. Hiller premiered the work as soloist in Amsterdam (1856). It was performed in the presence of royalty nine years later, so we must assume that the work enjoyed a certain degree of popularity. This was one of the first piano concertos to utilise the key of F-sharp Minor and is full of ideas also original for the time. A Moderato movement opens the piece with an energetic main theme (without introduction) and use of alternating octaves - a device copied by d'Albert 28 years later. The emotional Andante espressivo is filled with ravishingly romantic melodies. It has a feeling of Liszt about it. A purposeful Allegro con fuoco closes the concerto.
Henry Litolff was taken as a pupil for the composer Moscheles. The older man declared Litolff so good that a public performance was arranged which he gave at the age of fourteen. Later as a proficient pianist, Litolff undertook concert tours on the continent and wrote his Concerto Sinfonique about 1846. Berlioz monitored his progress and referred to Litolff "as one of our best composers", praising his knowledge, inspiration, mobility of melodic style, and excellence of orchestration. At 39 minutes it is a long concerto and with a four movement structure broke new ground. There is freshness to this composition that gives me the impression of sprightly youthful eagerness. Why this amazing work is not better known I can't guess, but it would be ideal for part of a Proms programme.
An Allegro provides a majestic opening, with accelerating energy and an introduction of two principal ideas. In the Scherzo a Beethovenian hunting scene comes to mind, with echoes of the Ninth. The piano part complements the orchestra-dominated main theme. A peaceful Andante conveys a lyrical mood of relaxing charm, the piano syncopating a flowing horn melody. A bold Furioso moves with urgency before it breaks into a trumpet-led rendering of the Dutch National song "Wein Neerlands". The song weaves in and out of the movement before virtuosity brings the piece to an energetic close.
Carl Reinecke is usually remembered for the cadenzas he wrote to other composers' classic concertos rather than for his own compositions. This is despite the fact that he was a prolific writer of around 300 works. His writing is not as demonstrative as the other composers in this set: there is more of a relaxed feel to this concerto. Reinecke made his debut as a violinist at 11 but toured Europe as a pianist, before turning to the education of others. Reinecke settled in Leipzig where he became professor of piano and composition at the Conservatorium.
In Reinecke's Concerto the Allegro is a good vehicle for virtuosity, but there is practically no partnership with the orchestra. In the Adagio, sincerity of purpose is given with its meandering theme. A bold statement from the strings opens the Finale Allegro and rippling measures maintain momentum throughout the movement.
Mendelssohn's Capriccio brilliant is well known and needs little introduction. Written as a fantasia for piano and orchestra it is constructed on four themes - introductory theme, fortissimo theme, pianissimo theme, and piano theme. It is here played with sensitivity and purpose.
Rheinberger is better known for his organ compositions rather than the writing of orchestral works. He studied under Lachner and became an intimate friend of Schubert, yet his music is often linked with Brahms.
His Concerto deviates in its opening Moderato from the Beethoven pattern by dispensing with the orchestral exposition and replacing it with a short preludial statement; the piano entering with the main idea and acting as a dominant force. An Adagio follows with lyrical delicacy and appealing musical ideas. The orchestra contributes with important thematic and colouristic contributions throughout. A piano solo opens the Allegro energico with a flourishing statement and running into a fast-flowing theme before returning to the heroic idea of the first movement.
This set contains rarely recorded works of the lesser-known composers who provided a valuable contribution to the development of music through the 19th Century. The notes make interesting reading and give useful historical information. Descriptions of the works could have been fuller and more detailed.
Michael Ponti plays with considerable dexterity, and handles both powerful and sensitive passages with considerable skill. The orchestras play competently under knowledgeable conductors.
The analogue recordings of the '70s are clear without the extraneous noise that can show up in CD transfers of this period. They are pleasantly balanced for concerto recording with the piano placed nicely forward on the sound-stage. In the Reinecke concerto, a slight metallic timbre is noticed with the piano. A slight lack of dynamic range causes some detail of the orchestra to be hidden but this is not an obtrusive problem. There is no obvious mismatching in the acoustics or microphone placements between the different venues (not given).
-- Raymond Walker, MusicWeb International
Moscheles' Concerto, Op. 58 is said to be one of his finest works, showing the classical influences of Beethoven, Schubert and Chopin. From the opening of the Allegro moderato one can be forgiven for thinking you are listening to an orchestral score composed by Mendelssohn. However the piano lines have more of a Saint-Saëns ring about them. Bold statements punctuate gently-flowing passages with lightweight orchestral involvement. The Adagio contains recitative-like figures with background tremolos that eventually lead into an Allegro agitato. This movement skips along with a bright theme that is extemporised and builds to a suitable coda and rousing close.
Hiller's compositions are largely forgotten now but in his day his works reached the concert hall. His piano impromptu Zur Gitarre was played by Clara Schumann. His Concerto, Op. 69 contains some lovely melodies and has for too long been neglected, a point the CD notes confirm. Hiller premiered the work as soloist in Amsterdam (1856). It was performed in the presence of royalty nine years later, so we must assume that the work enjoyed a certain degree of popularity. This was one of the first piano concertos to utilise the key of F-sharp Minor and is full of ideas also original for the time. A Moderato movement opens the piece with an energetic main theme (without introduction) and use of alternating octaves - a device copied by d'Albert 28 years later. The emotional Andante espressivo is filled with ravishingly romantic melodies. It has a feeling of Liszt about it. A purposeful Allegro con fuoco closes the concerto.
Henry Litolff was taken as a pupil for the composer Moscheles. The older man declared Litolff so good that a public performance was arranged which he gave at the age of fourteen. Later as a proficient pianist, Litolff undertook concert tours on the continent and wrote his Concerto Sinfonique about 1846. Berlioz monitored his progress and referred to Litolff "as one of our best composers", praising his knowledge, inspiration, mobility of melodic style, and excellence of orchestration. At 39 minutes it is a long concerto and with a four movement structure broke new ground. There is freshness to this composition that gives me the impression of sprightly youthful eagerness. Why this amazing work is not better known I can't guess, but it would be ideal for part of a Proms programme.
An Allegro provides a majestic opening, with accelerating energy and an introduction of two principal ideas. In the Scherzo a Beethovenian hunting scene comes to mind, with echoes of the Ninth. The piano part complements the orchestra-dominated main theme. A peaceful Andante conveys a lyrical mood of relaxing charm, the piano syncopating a flowing horn melody. A bold Furioso moves with urgency before it breaks into a trumpet-led rendering of the Dutch National song "Wein Neerlands". The song weaves in and out of the movement before virtuosity brings the piece to an energetic close.
Carl Reinecke is usually remembered for the cadenzas he wrote to other composers' classic concertos rather than for his own compositions. This is despite the fact that he was a prolific writer of around 300 works. His writing is not as demonstrative as the other composers in this set: there is more of a relaxed feel to this concerto. Reinecke made his debut as a violinist at 11 but toured Europe as a pianist, before turning to the education of others. Reinecke settled in Leipzig where he became professor of piano and composition at the Conservatorium.
In Reinecke's Concerto the Allegro is a good vehicle for virtuosity, but there is practically no partnership with the orchestra. In the Adagio, sincerity of purpose is given with its meandering theme. A bold statement from the strings opens the Finale Allegro and rippling measures maintain momentum throughout the movement.
Mendelssohn's Capriccio brilliant is well known and needs little introduction. Written as a fantasia for piano and orchestra it is constructed on four themes - introductory theme, fortissimo theme, pianissimo theme, and piano theme. It is here played with sensitivity and purpose.
Rheinberger is better known for his organ compositions rather than the writing of orchestral works. He studied under Lachner and became an intimate friend of Schubert, yet his music is often linked with Brahms.
His Concerto deviates in its opening Moderato from the Beethoven pattern by dispensing with the orchestral exposition and replacing it with a short preludial statement; the piano entering with the main idea and acting as a dominant force. An Adagio follows with lyrical delicacy and appealing musical ideas. The orchestra contributes with important thematic and colouristic contributions throughout. A piano solo opens the Allegro energico with a flourishing statement and running into a fast-flowing theme before returning to the heroic idea of the first movement.
This set contains rarely recorded works of the lesser-known composers who provided a valuable contribution to the development of music through the 19th Century. The notes make interesting reading and give useful historical information. Descriptions of the works could have been fuller and more detailed.
Michael Ponti plays with considerable dexterity, and handles both powerful and sensitive passages with considerable skill. The orchestras play competently under knowledgeable conductors.
The analogue recordings of the '70s are clear without the extraneous noise that can show up in CD transfers of this period. They are pleasantly balanced for concerto recording with the piano placed nicely forward on the sound-stage. In the Reinecke concerto, a slight metallic timbre is noticed with the piano. A slight lack of dynamic range causes some detail of the orchestra to be hidden but this is not an obtrusive problem. There is no obvious mismatching in the acoustics or microphone placements between the different venues (not given).
-- Raymond Walker, MusicWeb International
Oscar Shumsky: A Retrospective
Doremi
CD
$53.99
Jan 20, 2017
One of the most respected violinists of the 20th century! This set contains many items not previously available on CD, and some that have never been released at all. - Allegro
Featured Artists:
Oscar Shumsky: violin/Maureen Forrester: alto/Lois Marshall: soprano/Nadia Reisenberg piano/James Melton: tenor/Mario Bernardi: piano/Primrose String Quartet.
The 3 CD set also features arrangements of unspecified arias from Cantatas No. 120 & 132 by Bach and unspecified songs by Rachmaninov.
Featured Artists:
Oscar Shumsky: violin/Maureen Forrester: alto/Lois Marshall: soprano/Nadia Reisenberg piano/James Melton: tenor/Mario Bernardi: piano/Primrose String Quartet.
The 3 CD set also features arrangements of unspecified arias from Cantatas No. 120 & 132 by Bach and unspecified songs by Rachmaninov.
Domenico Scarlatti: Complete Piano Sonatas, Vol. 11
TACET Musikproduktion
CD
$23.99
Jul 08, 2014
A discographical note: Volume 11 is actually the second installment issued in Christoph Ullrich’s projected complete Scarlatti sonata cycle. The pianist has sequenced each volume by sonata in numerical order. His initial release, Volume 1, contains sonatas 1 through 42; sonatas 358 through 387 are here on Volume 11; and Nos. 43 through 357 presumably will follow on Volumes 2 through 10.
The admirable qualities of Ullrich’s earlier Mozart and Schubert releases often inform his Scarlatti, starting with the rhythmic kick and well-turned ornaments in the two opening D major sonatas. Ullrich’s firm and deliberate F minor K. 365 proves equally rewarding alongside faster, lighter piano versions from Serge Babyan and Yevgeny Sudbin. However, Konstantin Scherbakov bests Ullrich’s K. 360 for linear independence.
Ullrich takes the E-flat K. 371 Allegro directive with a grain of salt, and employs changes of color and pace to illuminate the music’s unpredictable harmonic shifts, whereas Maurizio Baglini is fast, harder hitting, and just a few feet short of reckless. The adjacent B minor K. 376/377 pair are sensitively phrased, although Ullrich’s F major K. 378 seems a trifle prosaic next to Fou Ts’ong’s brighter, more unpredictably accented reading, while his relatively flat and generic K. 380 pales in comparison with individually gripping interpreters of this popular sonata such as Horowitz, Lipatti, and the unusually slow yet mesmerizing David Greilsammer.
Ullrich’s clear and shapely delineation of the F minor K. 386’s busy, toccata-like writing is perfectly fine on its own terms, but Christian Zacharias’ suppler touch elevates this approach to a higher level, albeit a few notches below Clara Haskil’s breathtakingly fast yet perfectly controlled 1950 Westminster recording. Though less striking on the surface than Mikhail Pletnev’s spiky, aggressive K. 387, Ullrich’s suaver, faster, and more graceful performance is easier to digest. In a nutshell, Ullrich’s Scarlatti is never less than good, if not so consistently outstanding as Carlo Grante’s ongoing Scarlatti cycle on Music & Arts.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
The admirable qualities of Ullrich’s earlier Mozart and Schubert releases often inform his Scarlatti, starting with the rhythmic kick and well-turned ornaments in the two opening D major sonatas. Ullrich’s firm and deliberate F minor K. 365 proves equally rewarding alongside faster, lighter piano versions from Serge Babyan and Yevgeny Sudbin. However, Konstantin Scherbakov bests Ullrich’s K. 360 for linear independence.
Ullrich takes the E-flat K. 371 Allegro directive with a grain of salt, and employs changes of color and pace to illuminate the music’s unpredictable harmonic shifts, whereas Maurizio Baglini is fast, harder hitting, and just a few feet short of reckless. The adjacent B minor K. 376/377 pair are sensitively phrased, although Ullrich’s F major K. 378 seems a trifle prosaic next to Fou Ts’ong’s brighter, more unpredictably accented reading, while his relatively flat and generic K. 380 pales in comparison with individually gripping interpreters of this popular sonata such as Horowitz, Lipatti, and the unusually slow yet mesmerizing David Greilsammer.
Ullrich’s clear and shapely delineation of the F minor K. 386’s busy, toccata-like writing is perfectly fine on its own terms, but Christian Zacharias’ suppler touch elevates this approach to a higher level, albeit a few notches below Clara Haskil’s breathtakingly fast yet perfectly controlled 1950 Westminster recording. Though less striking on the surface than Mikhail Pletnev’s spiky, aggressive K. 387, Ullrich’s suaver, faster, and more graceful performance is easier to digest. In a nutshell, Ullrich’s Scarlatti is never less than good, if not so consistently outstanding as Carlo Grante’s ongoing Scarlatti cycle on Music & Arts.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Piano Music Of Rodion Shchedrin / Marina Lomazov
Centaur Records
CD
$18.99
Dec 01, 2009
A great introduction to Shchedrin's piano music.
Two of Rodion Shchedrin's works are entitled Concerto cantabile and Concerto sotto voce. These two epithets - sotto voce and cantabile - can be applied to much of his output. He produced bright, brilliant pieces (like the justly famous Carmen-Suite ballet), or works full of daring, rough folk humor (like the popular Concerto for Orchestra Naughty Limericks). Still, the core of Shchedrin's music is dark-hued, philosophic, often religious, always thoughtful. The spiritual closeness to Bach is evident, and not only in the abundance of old-fashioned polyphony. Probably the most successful of the Soviet composers that emerged in the Fifties under the shadow of Shostakovich, Shchedrin is the one with his face turned to the past. Not technically: he knows and uses all the atonal - polytonal - dodecaphonic - aleatoric - you name it - brushes. His music rarely grips you from the first measure: it requires submergence and listening. But when you are in - you are in. And you can be sure that the experience won't leave you with disappointing emptiness: those simple, sparse, seemingly tuneless constructs are genuine, deep music. It is strange. It is Art.
More and more of Shchedrin's music is recorded in the West, but these are mostly concertos and choral works of the latest years. The more welcome is then the all-Shchedrin piano recital of pieces from his first creative period, presented so sympathetically by Marina Lomazov.
I can't say that I completely understand the logic of the Piano Sonata of 1962. The second and third movements hold very naturally together - the second is a dim, deep abyss, the third a devilish toccata, burning like black fire. Preceding these two goes a much lighter Allegro da Sonata, like an echo of Petrushka's Shrovetide Fair. It is attached, but does not seem to belong.
The ten preludes from The Polyphonic Notebook (1972, the latest composition on this disc) are very interesting and rewarding. I wish all 25 were recorded, but even the present torso is a wonderful sequence, full of delicacy and balance. This is one of Shchedrin's Bachianas. The texture is sparse - listen to the lower voices!
The earliest composition - Poem of 1954 - could be a page from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet. The Humoresque, similarly, may evoke Prokofiev in his more angular self. Yet its voice is not derivative, and the piece is funny and memorable. A la Albéniz is a cold-smoke tango, with enough big pauses for glances, yes and nos, and other decisions. Together, these three miniatures show how multi-faced Shchedrin's muse can be.
The four pieces arranged from The Hump-backed Horse ballet bring to the front another big love of the composer: the Russian folk culture. The music is very sincere and innocent, which suits well the fairytale subject of the ballet.
Finally comes my favorite: Two Polyphonic Pieces. The Invention is hypnotic. As it is often with Shchedrin, you cannot pinpoint exactly where the “musical experience” is coming from. It's like plain pieces of mosaic summing up into a picture. Basso Ostinato is another virtuosic toccata, a veritable tour de force, completely enthralling. There are torrents of energy, like armies clashing in the night, order and chaos in search of a resolution.
Marina Lomazov is a perfect performer for this music. She never "overcooks" it; everything that needs to be dry stays dry. Yet there is all the required energy, and maybe even more. Lomazov plays with ultimate precision, but the result is not mechanical: it is human, personal and soulful, even in the most abstract constructs. There is this "transparent virtuosity" that does not expose itself glamorously, but works for the good of the music. And she does wonders with the rhythm. I wish she considered recording Prokofiev's Sonatas.
The recording quality is very satisfactory. The liner-notes are not especially generous. Still there is enough information about the works, the composer and the performer. This disc gives a good overview of Shchedrin's directions in his earlier years, and the selections from the Polyphonic Notebook are a real teaser. It is a multi-character program, recital-like, with changing moods and styles, not a unified album. It is a great introduction to Shchedrin's piano music. It is also a great introduction to a very fine pianist, Marina Lomazov.
-- Oleg Ledeniov, MusicWeb International
Two of Rodion Shchedrin's works are entitled Concerto cantabile and Concerto sotto voce. These two epithets - sotto voce and cantabile - can be applied to much of his output. He produced bright, brilliant pieces (like the justly famous Carmen-Suite ballet), or works full of daring, rough folk humor (like the popular Concerto for Orchestra Naughty Limericks). Still, the core of Shchedrin's music is dark-hued, philosophic, often religious, always thoughtful. The spiritual closeness to Bach is evident, and not only in the abundance of old-fashioned polyphony. Probably the most successful of the Soviet composers that emerged in the Fifties under the shadow of Shostakovich, Shchedrin is the one with his face turned to the past. Not technically: he knows and uses all the atonal - polytonal - dodecaphonic - aleatoric - you name it - brushes. His music rarely grips you from the first measure: it requires submergence and listening. But when you are in - you are in. And you can be sure that the experience won't leave you with disappointing emptiness: those simple, sparse, seemingly tuneless constructs are genuine, deep music. It is strange. It is Art.
More and more of Shchedrin's music is recorded in the West, but these are mostly concertos and choral works of the latest years. The more welcome is then the all-Shchedrin piano recital of pieces from his first creative period, presented so sympathetically by Marina Lomazov.
I can't say that I completely understand the logic of the Piano Sonata of 1962. The second and third movements hold very naturally together - the second is a dim, deep abyss, the third a devilish toccata, burning like black fire. Preceding these two goes a much lighter Allegro da Sonata, like an echo of Petrushka's Shrovetide Fair. It is attached, but does not seem to belong.
The ten preludes from The Polyphonic Notebook (1972, the latest composition on this disc) are very interesting and rewarding. I wish all 25 were recorded, but even the present torso is a wonderful sequence, full of delicacy and balance. This is one of Shchedrin's Bachianas. The texture is sparse - listen to the lower voices!
The earliest composition - Poem of 1954 - could be a page from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet. The Humoresque, similarly, may evoke Prokofiev in his more angular self. Yet its voice is not derivative, and the piece is funny and memorable. A la Albéniz is a cold-smoke tango, with enough big pauses for glances, yes and nos, and other decisions. Together, these three miniatures show how multi-faced Shchedrin's muse can be.
The four pieces arranged from The Hump-backed Horse ballet bring to the front another big love of the composer: the Russian folk culture. The music is very sincere and innocent, which suits well the fairytale subject of the ballet.
Finally comes my favorite: Two Polyphonic Pieces. The Invention is hypnotic. As it is often with Shchedrin, you cannot pinpoint exactly where the “musical experience” is coming from. It's like plain pieces of mosaic summing up into a picture. Basso Ostinato is another virtuosic toccata, a veritable tour de force, completely enthralling. There are torrents of energy, like armies clashing in the night, order and chaos in search of a resolution.
Marina Lomazov is a perfect performer for this music. She never "overcooks" it; everything that needs to be dry stays dry. Yet there is all the required energy, and maybe even more. Lomazov plays with ultimate precision, but the result is not mechanical: it is human, personal and soulful, even in the most abstract constructs. There is this "transparent virtuosity" that does not expose itself glamorously, but works for the good of the music. And she does wonders with the rhythm. I wish she considered recording Prokofiev's Sonatas.
The recording quality is very satisfactory. The liner-notes are not especially generous. Still there is enough information about the works, the composer and the performer. This disc gives a good overview of Shchedrin's directions in his earlier years, and the selections from the Polyphonic Notebook are a real teaser. It is a multi-character program, recital-like, with changing moods and styles, not a unified album. It is a great introduction to Shchedrin's piano music. It is also a great introduction to a very fine pianist, Marina Lomazov.
-- Oleg Ledeniov, MusicWeb International
Piano Music by Still & Other Black Composers / Monica Gaylord
Music and Arts Programs of America
CD
$19.99
Jul 08, 2013
The average birthdate of these eight composers is 1900, and the youngest of them, Oscar Peterson, is sixty-seven. So this is a nostalgic look at the music of black composers; there is no Anthony Davis here. William Grant Still's music has flowed into the cracks of our national musical heritage; I call a composer great who has created a single masterpiece, and Still's “A Black Pierrot“ from his Songs of Separation is as haunting a song as Schubert or Wolf ever composed. Three Visions are evocative miniature tone poems and the Seven Traceries are impressionist sound paintings.
Howard Swanson's The Cuckoo is a light, gay scherzo and trio, with the bird cuckooing away in one hand while the other flies all over the keyboard. Robert Nathaniel Dett (1882-1943) studied with Nadia Boulanger, earned degrees from Oberlin and Eastman, conducted choral societies, performed before presidents, and was awarded honorary doctorates from Harvard and Oberlin. His In the Bottoms depicts “black man's slave camps at the river's edge.“ The five pieces go from somber contemplation to a gay dance. Ulysses Kay's three Inventions are brief, formal pieces. John Wesley Work, Jr., studied at Columbia and Yale and became chairman of the music department at Fisk University. His Big Bunch of Roses starts with a Negro folk tune and develops in a colorful and relaxed way. Oscar Peterson's The Gentle Waltz is languorous and jazzy and sweet, Duke Ellington's Come Sunday is a soft, flowing hymn with a touch of the blues; both pieces are played in arrangements by jazz pianist Denny McErlain.
Samuel Coleridge-Taylor was another master composer; every work of his I have heard is at least worthy, often inspired. His suite of three waltzes—Allegro molto, Andante, Allegro assai— stands out even among all this lovely music. It has warmth, individuality, melodic charm, and a sturdy, upright dignity without a hint of pomposity that is his own special character. Monica Gaylord studied at Juilliard and Eastman and has played throughout the United States and Canada. She has a beautiful touch for these winning works, and when it comes to Coleridge-Taylor's heroic final coda, she peals forth bronze thunder; if this were a live recital, it would bring down the house. The pianist also writes the notes, in which she shows herself to be a knowledgeable historian and a fine writer. A fine recording rounds out the assets of this lovely disc.
-- James H. North, FANFARE [3/1993]
-------
This winsome collection of 20th-century music was warmly welcomed by James H. North on its original release in 1992 (Fanfare 16:4), and I can only second his endorsement. He called it "nostalgic," and I guess he's right—although to my mind, that's not so much because of the age of the composers (as he pointed out, their "average birthdate" is 1900), but rather because they all aim (at least, in the works here) for a soft-edged accessibility that went increasingly out of fashion as the century wore on. Indeed, even Dett's musical evocation of slave camps abstains from brutality. Fortunately, Monica Gaylord has the subtlety of touch this predominantly gentle recital requires. While she's perfectly capable of ringing out the splashy final numbers of the Coleridge-Taylor and Dett sets, she's at her most impressive extracting the delicate impressionistic colors from Still's Traceries or coaxing out the rhythms of Ellington's meditative Come Sunday. Fine sound and erudite notes by the pianist only add to the attractions. A first-rate reissue.
-- Peter J. Rabinowitz, FANFARE [3/1999]
Howard Swanson's The Cuckoo is a light, gay scherzo and trio, with the bird cuckooing away in one hand while the other flies all over the keyboard. Robert Nathaniel Dett (1882-1943) studied with Nadia Boulanger, earned degrees from Oberlin and Eastman, conducted choral societies, performed before presidents, and was awarded honorary doctorates from Harvard and Oberlin. His In the Bottoms depicts “black man's slave camps at the river's edge.“ The five pieces go from somber contemplation to a gay dance. Ulysses Kay's three Inventions are brief, formal pieces. John Wesley Work, Jr., studied at Columbia and Yale and became chairman of the music department at Fisk University. His Big Bunch of Roses starts with a Negro folk tune and develops in a colorful and relaxed way. Oscar Peterson's The Gentle Waltz is languorous and jazzy and sweet, Duke Ellington's Come Sunday is a soft, flowing hymn with a touch of the blues; both pieces are played in arrangements by jazz pianist Denny McErlain.
Samuel Coleridge-Taylor was another master composer; every work of his I have heard is at least worthy, often inspired. His suite of three waltzes—Allegro molto, Andante, Allegro assai— stands out even among all this lovely music. It has warmth, individuality, melodic charm, and a sturdy, upright dignity without a hint of pomposity that is his own special character. Monica Gaylord studied at Juilliard and Eastman and has played throughout the United States and Canada. She has a beautiful touch for these winning works, and when it comes to Coleridge-Taylor's heroic final coda, she peals forth bronze thunder; if this were a live recital, it would bring down the house. The pianist also writes the notes, in which she shows herself to be a knowledgeable historian and a fine writer. A fine recording rounds out the assets of this lovely disc.
-- James H. North, FANFARE [3/1993]
-------
This winsome collection of 20th-century music was warmly welcomed by James H. North on its original release in 1992 (Fanfare 16:4), and I can only second his endorsement. He called it "nostalgic," and I guess he's right—although to my mind, that's not so much because of the age of the composers (as he pointed out, their "average birthdate" is 1900), but rather because they all aim (at least, in the works here) for a soft-edged accessibility that went increasingly out of fashion as the century wore on. Indeed, even Dett's musical evocation of slave camps abstains from brutality. Fortunately, Monica Gaylord has the subtlety of touch this predominantly gentle recital requires. While she's perfectly capable of ringing out the splashy final numbers of the Coleridge-Taylor and Dett sets, she's at her most impressive extracting the delicate impressionistic colors from Still's Traceries or coaxing out the rhythms of Ellington's meditative Come Sunday. Fine sound and erudite notes by the pianist only add to the attractions. A first-rate reissue.
-- Peter J. Rabinowitz, FANFARE [3/1999]
Boccherini: Cello Concertos, Etc / Bylsma, Lamon, Tafelmusik
Sony Masterworks
CD
$17.99
Feb 08, 2008
"[This disc] offers a slightly odd but still very enjoyable selection of Boccherini—timed, no doubt, for the 250th anniversary this year. The two symphonies are late works, the D major a single-movement piece of the Italian overture type, with a slow movement embedded, the C minor his most 'symphonic' work in the Viennese-classical sense of the term. Jeanne Lamon directs lively performances with this excellent Canadian group. The D major she takes rather quickly, producing that sense of tension that arises when music is pushed a little beyond its natural pace; but the effect is energetic and inspiriting (and it is marked con molto spirito). The Andantino is more relaxed, its colours happily realized. In the C minor work she presses the minuet too much, I think (true, it's marked Allegro), for it to make its points properly, but the fine first movement is direct and unaffected, and its close symphonic argument comes across well, while the finale is splendidly fiery.
Anner Bylsma plays the two concertos, neither of them among the better known of Boccherini's, in characteristic fashion, dashing into the music with his usual sense of fresh discovery and uninhibited enthusiasm. Some might prefer more measured performances, but the intensity of his involvement does draw the listener in, and his bouncing rhythms show an infectious pleasure in the music. The odd rough moment is a modest price to pay. He takes both the slow movements very slowly, surprisingly so, for this runs against the grain of fashion, not to say informed opinion, in the early music world. That of the D major is however rapt in expression, with Bylsma's eloquent line (the phrases in rapid notes are thrown off like little sprigs of decoration) and Tafelmusik's soft and sensitive accompaniment. The C major is a less impressive piece and there must be some doubt about its complete authenticity, at least in this form (who ever heard of a concerto in C with a slow movement in D?); Bylsma contributes some curious, almost trumpet-like tone in the first movement, and plays an extremely odd cadenza.
In fact, the work I enjoyed most of all, and for which I shall treasure this CD in particular, is the Octet, one of a group of late chamber works for mixed combinations which haven't been, but should be, available on records. It is a charming and leisurely piece, exquisitely scored, with one of those seductive minuets bearing Boccherini's most personal stamp—exquisitely scored, gently witty, with a hint of nostalgia and pain lurking somewhere behind the notes. That, at any rate, is how I hear it, and I find it wholly beguiling."
-- Stanley Sadie, Gramophone [7/1993]
Anner Bylsma plays the two concertos, neither of them among the better known of Boccherini's, in characteristic fashion, dashing into the music with his usual sense of fresh discovery and uninhibited enthusiasm. Some might prefer more measured performances, but the intensity of his involvement does draw the listener in, and his bouncing rhythms show an infectious pleasure in the music. The odd rough moment is a modest price to pay. He takes both the slow movements very slowly, surprisingly so, for this runs against the grain of fashion, not to say informed opinion, in the early music world. That of the D major is however rapt in expression, with Bylsma's eloquent line (the phrases in rapid notes are thrown off like little sprigs of decoration) and Tafelmusik's soft and sensitive accompaniment. The C major is a less impressive piece and there must be some doubt about its complete authenticity, at least in this form (who ever heard of a concerto in C with a slow movement in D?); Bylsma contributes some curious, almost trumpet-like tone in the first movement, and plays an extremely odd cadenza.
In fact, the work I enjoyed most of all, and for which I shall treasure this CD in particular, is the Octet, one of a group of late chamber works for mixed combinations which haven't been, but should be, available on records. It is a charming and leisurely piece, exquisitely scored, with one of those seductive minuets bearing Boccherini's most personal stamp—exquisitely scored, gently witty, with a hint of nostalgia and pain lurking somewhere behind the notes. That, at any rate, is how I hear it, and I find it wholly beguiling."
-- Stanley Sadie, Gramophone [7/1993]
Grandes Pièces Symphoniques / Ian Tracey
Chandos
SACD
$21.99
Oct 01, 2007
I cannot imagine a better place to start to get to know the French organ repertoire... Lovers of the genre should place their orders at once.
The CD opens with a display piece which is much more than just display: the whole disc might well have been devised to demonstrate that there is much more to the great French organ tradition than just a mighty sound. Much of the music is quiet and reflective and the bravura works, like this Tournemire improvisation, have more to offer than glorious sound.
This is one of the improvisations which Tournemire recorded and which were subsequently transcribed by Duruflé. Tournemire insisted that improvisations could not and should not be recaptured but this Improvisation on the Te Deum is a fine piece, worthy of preservation. The CD notes attribute this work to L’Orgue mystique, a cycle of 51 pieces on Gregorian themes for the major festivals of the liturgical year but, whereas that work consists of improvisation-like pieces which Tournemire actually wrote down, the Te Deum improvisation was not written down until Duruflé’s labour of love in transcribing it 28 years later.
Duruflé’s transcription in Ian Tracey’s hands almost persuades one that one is hearing the actual process of improvisation, yet at the same time the playing is totally assured. The Liverpool organ may not be a Cavaillé-Coll, but it is a fine instrument.
Only careful listening identifies the plainsong tune of the Te Deum but that is part of the art of composing such pieces. Bach sometimes buries his chorale melodies fairly deeply in his preludes and Duruflé’s own music based on plainsong themes sometimes requires a deal of detective work. Try his Four motets on Gregorian themes, coupled with his own performance of his gorgeous, Fauré-inspired Requiem and his Mass Cum jubilo on Apex 2564 61139 2, a budget-price distillation of two Erato CDs which have long been in my collection.
The two short pieces by Bonnet which follow are fairly insubstantial but they make an excellent bridge between the display of the Tournemire and the Saint-Saëns improvisation, itself an exercise in virtuosity which receives a glorious free-wheeling performance from Tracey. There is very little Saint-Saëns organ music in the record catalogues; a performance like this reminds us that there is much more to him than The Carnival of the Animals, as I have pointed out in my recent review of two of his Piano Concertos. (Jean-Yves Thibaudet with the OSR under Charles Dutoit on Decca 475 8764).
The title of Franck’s Grande Pièce Symphonique, which is used as the generic name of the CD as a whole, implies employment of the big guns but, in fact, the dominant mood of this piece is restrained, with frequent markings of dolce, pp and even ppp. The opening andante serioso is subdued and reflective: Tracey captures the serioso mood here as well as the mood of the succeeding allegro section, faster but still no troppo e maestoso. The notes in the booklet compare the opening section to a processional but I was put more in mind of a hushed and expectant congregation awaiting the start of Vespers.
In the quiet and reflective andante opening of the second movement, too, the image conjured up is of the preparation for an important service – a role which Tracey, in his capacity at Liverpool Cathedral, will have performed many times. He captures all these quiet passages extremely effectively, especially in those sections marked cantando, and the recording registers every detail, with individual manual- and pedal-parts coming over very clearly. The Liverpool reverberation is kept to a minimum.
The finale also opens pp, but with a hint of a storm to come. When those bigger guns finally arrive, in the wonderful fugue and the concluding outburst of joy, they are all the more effective for having been kept so long in reserve – and for Franck’s retaining a considerable degree of restraint even when they do fire. This is certainly not a showpiece for the sake of mere show and Tracey shows admirable restraint where a lesser organist might well have gone overboard. These grander moments are also very well captured by the engineers, even in normal stereo. One is again aware of the resonance of the building without its ever interfering with the clarity of the recording.
Those seeking to expand their knowledge of Franck’s organ music will inevitably reduplicate the Grande pièce, albeit at bargain price and on French organs. Either Jennifer Bate on the Beauvais organ (Regis RRC2054) or Marie-Claire Alain on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Caen (Apex 2564 61428 2) will do very nicely. Both are 2-CD sets selling for around £9 in the UK.
The Gigout Scherzo provides a lighter, capricious moment before the Widor: delicacy of touch is paramount here and this Tracey very ably provides.
The Widor Symphony is not the one with the Toccata: that is No.5, already recorded in full by Tracey on CHAN9271. Listeners may welcome the chance to get away from that ubiquitous piece and at the same time hear another of his symphonies in its entirety: the Fourth Symphony is as good a piece as any to choose. Don’t expect these works, despite their title, to sound too symphonic: they are more like a suite than a symphony. Again Tracey’s chief rival in this work is Marie-Claire Alain’s authoritative account on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Saint Germain (Warner Elatus 2564 60341 2, at mid-price).
Franck left his big guns till the end of his Grande Pièce; the Widor Symphony does the opposite, starting with a fff marking at the beginning of the opening Toccata. This is a big movement – by definition a Toccata is designed to show off the player’s expertise in ‘touching’ the keys. (From Italian toccare, to touch.) Tracey makes the Toccata sound big without being entirely overwhelming and without setting off too much reverberation: if anything, I might have wanted him to sound just a little more ferocious. The Fugue begins quietly with the 16’ pedal tone which the score calls for held in restraint; the effect is ethereal.
The third movement, marked dolce, opens even more ethereally, with the pp organ barely audible. This is the best-known movement, often played as a separate piece. The booklet compares it to Daquin’s Noëls but, having recently reviewed an excellent Hyperion Helios reissue of the Noëls (CDH 55319) I have to say that the relationship is a distant one apart from the cantabile nature of the music, excellently captured by Tracey. The central section, written in four staves – i.e. with two sets of pedal parts – is fiendishly difficult but Tracey, with art that conceals art, makes it sound effortless.
The Scherzo and Adagio are again gentle movements, the pp opening of each setting the tone. The mood of the Adagio anticipates that of Fauré’s Requiem by twenty-one years. Tracey’s nimble playing in the Scherzo, his lighter touch in the Adagio and the recording are once more absolutely first class.
It is a mark of a fine recording not only that it captures the loudest moments without distortion but that it makes an equally good job of registering music on the threshold of hearing. The Chandos engineers score in both respects on this CD – just don’t try to play it in the car: the volume required for the quieter movements to register would place you in the head-bangers’ league in the louder movements.
The Finale begins fff, a marking which recurs at several points in the movement. The big guns are unleashed at the start but Widor is careful again not to make the effect too overwhelming and Tracey’s playing contributes to the comparative restraint, especially in the central part of this movement. The closing bars bring a confident conclusion to the work, confidently executed.
I have already indicated that the recording is first-class even in stereo. In SACD surround-format I am sure that the ambience of Liverpool Cathedral is perfectly captured, albeit without too much of the reverberation of this building.
I’m going for broke and nominating this my Recording of the Month. I cannot imagine a better place to start to get to know the French organ repertoire – unless it should be one of Ian Tracey’s other recordings in this series. Lovers of the genre should place their orders at once.
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
The CD opens with a display piece which is much more than just display: the whole disc might well have been devised to demonstrate that there is much more to the great French organ tradition than just a mighty sound. Much of the music is quiet and reflective and the bravura works, like this Tournemire improvisation, have more to offer than glorious sound.
This is one of the improvisations which Tournemire recorded and which were subsequently transcribed by Duruflé. Tournemire insisted that improvisations could not and should not be recaptured but this Improvisation on the Te Deum is a fine piece, worthy of preservation. The CD notes attribute this work to L’Orgue mystique, a cycle of 51 pieces on Gregorian themes for the major festivals of the liturgical year but, whereas that work consists of improvisation-like pieces which Tournemire actually wrote down, the Te Deum improvisation was not written down until Duruflé’s labour of love in transcribing it 28 years later.
Duruflé’s transcription in Ian Tracey’s hands almost persuades one that one is hearing the actual process of improvisation, yet at the same time the playing is totally assured. The Liverpool organ may not be a Cavaillé-Coll, but it is a fine instrument.
Only careful listening identifies the plainsong tune of the Te Deum but that is part of the art of composing such pieces. Bach sometimes buries his chorale melodies fairly deeply in his preludes and Duruflé’s own music based on plainsong themes sometimes requires a deal of detective work. Try his Four motets on Gregorian themes, coupled with his own performance of his gorgeous, Fauré-inspired Requiem and his Mass Cum jubilo on Apex 2564 61139 2, a budget-price distillation of two Erato CDs which have long been in my collection.
The two short pieces by Bonnet which follow are fairly insubstantial but they make an excellent bridge between the display of the Tournemire and the Saint-Saëns improvisation, itself an exercise in virtuosity which receives a glorious free-wheeling performance from Tracey. There is very little Saint-Saëns organ music in the record catalogues; a performance like this reminds us that there is much more to him than The Carnival of the Animals, as I have pointed out in my recent review of two of his Piano Concertos. (Jean-Yves Thibaudet with the OSR under Charles Dutoit on Decca 475 8764).
The title of Franck’s Grande Pièce Symphonique, which is used as the generic name of the CD as a whole, implies employment of the big guns but, in fact, the dominant mood of this piece is restrained, with frequent markings of dolce, pp and even ppp. The opening andante serioso is subdued and reflective: Tracey captures the serioso mood here as well as the mood of the succeeding allegro section, faster but still no troppo e maestoso. The notes in the booklet compare the opening section to a processional but I was put more in mind of a hushed and expectant congregation awaiting the start of Vespers.
In the quiet and reflective andante opening of the second movement, too, the image conjured up is of the preparation for an important service – a role which Tracey, in his capacity at Liverpool Cathedral, will have performed many times. He captures all these quiet passages extremely effectively, especially in those sections marked cantando, and the recording registers every detail, with individual manual- and pedal-parts coming over very clearly. The Liverpool reverberation is kept to a minimum.
The finale also opens pp, but with a hint of a storm to come. When those bigger guns finally arrive, in the wonderful fugue and the concluding outburst of joy, they are all the more effective for having been kept so long in reserve – and for Franck’s retaining a considerable degree of restraint even when they do fire. This is certainly not a showpiece for the sake of mere show and Tracey shows admirable restraint where a lesser organist might well have gone overboard. These grander moments are also very well captured by the engineers, even in normal stereo. One is again aware of the resonance of the building without its ever interfering with the clarity of the recording.
Those seeking to expand their knowledge of Franck’s organ music will inevitably reduplicate the Grande pièce, albeit at bargain price and on French organs. Either Jennifer Bate on the Beauvais organ (Regis RRC2054) or Marie-Claire Alain on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Caen (Apex 2564 61428 2) will do very nicely. Both are 2-CD sets selling for around £9 in the UK.
The Gigout Scherzo provides a lighter, capricious moment before the Widor: delicacy of touch is paramount here and this Tracey very ably provides.
The Widor Symphony is not the one with the Toccata: that is No.5, already recorded in full by Tracey on CHAN9271. Listeners may welcome the chance to get away from that ubiquitous piece and at the same time hear another of his symphonies in its entirety: the Fourth Symphony is as good a piece as any to choose. Don’t expect these works, despite their title, to sound too symphonic: they are more like a suite than a symphony. Again Tracey’s chief rival in this work is Marie-Claire Alain’s authoritative account on the Cavaillé-Coll organ at Saint Germain (Warner Elatus 2564 60341 2, at mid-price).
Franck left his big guns till the end of his Grande Pièce; the Widor Symphony does the opposite, starting with a fff marking at the beginning of the opening Toccata. This is a big movement – by definition a Toccata is designed to show off the player’s expertise in ‘touching’ the keys. (From Italian toccare, to touch.) Tracey makes the Toccata sound big without being entirely overwhelming and without setting off too much reverberation: if anything, I might have wanted him to sound just a little more ferocious. The Fugue begins quietly with the 16’ pedal tone which the score calls for held in restraint; the effect is ethereal.
The third movement, marked dolce, opens even more ethereally, with the pp organ barely audible. This is the best-known movement, often played as a separate piece. The booklet compares it to Daquin’s Noëls but, having recently reviewed an excellent Hyperion Helios reissue of the Noëls (CDH 55319) I have to say that the relationship is a distant one apart from the cantabile nature of the music, excellently captured by Tracey. The central section, written in four staves – i.e. with two sets of pedal parts – is fiendishly difficult but Tracey, with art that conceals art, makes it sound effortless.
The Scherzo and Adagio are again gentle movements, the pp opening of each setting the tone. The mood of the Adagio anticipates that of Fauré’s Requiem by twenty-one years. Tracey’s nimble playing in the Scherzo, his lighter touch in the Adagio and the recording are once more absolutely first class.
It is a mark of a fine recording not only that it captures the loudest moments without distortion but that it makes an equally good job of registering music on the threshold of hearing. The Chandos engineers score in both respects on this CD – just don’t try to play it in the car: the volume required for the quieter movements to register would place you in the head-bangers’ league in the louder movements.
The Finale begins fff, a marking which recurs at several points in the movement. The big guns are unleashed at the start but Widor is careful again not to make the effect too overwhelming and Tracey’s playing contributes to the comparative restraint, especially in the central part of this movement. The closing bars bring a confident conclusion to the work, confidently executed.
I have already indicated that the recording is first-class even in stereo. In SACD surround-format I am sure that the ambience of Liverpool Cathedral is perfectly captured, albeit without too much of the reverberation of this building.
I’m going for broke and nominating this my Recording of the Month. I cannot imagine a better place to start to get to know the French organ repertoire – unless it should be one of Ian Tracey’s other recordings in this series. Lovers of the genre should place their orders at once.
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International
Handel: Water Music; Mozart: Symphonies 36 & 38 / Munch, Boston Symphony
ICA Classics
DVD
$20.99
$26.99
Save 20%
Feb 28, 2012
CHARLES MUNCH CONDUCTS HANDEL AND MOZART
George Frideric Handel: Water Music Suite (arr. H. Harty)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:
Symphony No. 36 in C major, K. 425, “Linz”
Symphony No. 38 in D major, K. 504, “Prague”
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Charles Munch, conductor
Recorded live from Sanders Theatre, Harvard University on 12 April 1960 (Water Music), 8 April 1958 (Linz Symphony), and 3 November 1959 (Prague Symphony)
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: Enhanced Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Booklet notes: English, French, German
Running time: 62 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Precious, unrecorded symphonies served up in vital, energising readings.
It sometimes seems as if WGBH-TV Boston had its camera crew surgically attached to the Sanders Theatre at Harvard. Maybe the crew emerged blinking from a surfeit of lectures, keen to get reacquainted with Charles Munch. The torrent of TV material now emerging on ICA Classics is both very welcome and very difficult to sift. What, usefully, should the critic do to suggest why you may or may not wish to buy this DVD, especially if the critic is me, one who suffers from a dual impulse; firstly to buy DVDs like this and then to despair of ever finding or making the time to watch them.
So, what’s in it for you when you consider this latest Munch DVD? I’m not saying ICA is being naughty but there’s no indication that this is black and white footage; most people will know this, but not everyone will, even if there’s a still of Munch (in black and white) on the box cover. So it’s black and white and in mono. The dates of the concerts are 1958, 1959 and 1960.
The first thing that’s in it for you is that Munch never recorded the two Mozart symphonies in the studio. This makes this AV representation especially valuable. Another thing in it for you, should you be interested in such things (I am), is to see the Boston Symphony in action - the players, the faces, their responses, maybe to try to put names to the faces. To this extent I wish ICA and other companies (almost no one does this, so I’m not singling out ICA) would provide a personnel listing of the orchestra at the time. I appreciate it may not be wholly accurate but I think it would be a nice touch.
Things start with the Handel-Harty Water Music suite, a performance of Beechamesque brio and bravado. If you miss the days of such arrangements then Munch and the Boston won’t let you down. The basses are positioned behind the French horns, and the top to bottom sonority, despite the mono sound, is highly enjoyable. Even though Adolf Busch, Boyd Neel and countless others had trail-blazed in this repertoire, Munch makes no concessions, and nor should he have done. Munch is at his most animated in the Allegro finale, smiling very slightly, his baton swishing about fly-fisherman style in his exuberance. One notices that the director decided that a good idea would be a camera shot ‘stepping down’ the orchestral sections, reasonable in theory, but dodgy in practice, not least when the camera slips, as it does once. One also notices that the Boston was an almost all-male orchestra at the time, and that the average age of the strings, at least, must have been quite high. There are some especially patrician looking gentlemen in the first violin section.
The Linz Symphony is from 1958 and has by far the most degraded film of the three. Grainy and rather unclear, a critic should counsel gently on this point. It’s hardly unwatchable, but you will most certainly notice the difference. The performance is in Munch’s best, taut and linear style; I would suggest George Szell as a reasonable point of comparison in terms of expression. Though sometimes tense, it’s never driven and the wind phrasing throughout is a delight. The Prague was taped in November 1959, with footage comparable in quality to the April 1960 Handel. I sense, unless it’s the increased clarity of the film that alerts me to the upturned eyes directed toward Munch’s beat, that the orchestra follows him that bit more circumspectly in this symphony. He makes the briefest of pauses between the first and second movements, ensuring a kind of symphonic continuity to occur. The band is ready for him, and the unindulged Andante is all the better for his unsentimental approach. The only demerit is not musical but filmic; some mildly chaotic camera panning shots that disrupt things briefly.
Despite such imperfections, I enjoyed the DVD. It enshrines those precious, unrecorded symphonies, grants visual immortality to the Boston denizens, and serves up vital, energising readings. How often you will play it, however, is a question that only you can answer.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
George Frideric Handel: Water Music Suite (arr. H. Harty)
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:
Symphony No. 36 in C major, K. 425, “Linz”
Symphony No. 38 in D major, K. 504, “Prague”
Boston Symphony Orchestra
Charles Munch, conductor
Recorded live from Sanders Theatre, Harvard University on 12 April 1960 (Water Music), 8 April 1958 (Linz Symphony), and 3 November 1959 (Prague Symphony)
Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: Enhanced Mono
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Booklet notes: English, French, German
Running time: 62 mins
No. of DVDs: 1
Precious, unrecorded symphonies served up in vital, energising readings.
It sometimes seems as if WGBH-TV Boston had its camera crew surgically attached to the Sanders Theatre at Harvard. Maybe the crew emerged blinking from a surfeit of lectures, keen to get reacquainted with Charles Munch. The torrent of TV material now emerging on ICA Classics is both very welcome and very difficult to sift. What, usefully, should the critic do to suggest why you may or may not wish to buy this DVD, especially if the critic is me, one who suffers from a dual impulse; firstly to buy DVDs like this and then to despair of ever finding or making the time to watch them.
So, what’s in it for you when you consider this latest Munch DVD? I’m not saying ICA is being naughty but there’s no indication that this is black and white footage; most people will know this, but not everyone will, even if there’s a still of Munch (in black and white) on the box cover. So it’s black and white and in mono. The dates of the concerts are 1958, 1959 and 1960.
The first thing that’s in it for you is that Munch never recorded the two Mozart symphonies in the studio. This makes this AV representation especially valuable. Another thing in it for you, should you be interested in such things (I am), is to see the Boston Symphony in action - the players, the faces, their responses, maybe to try to put names to the faces. To this extent I wish ICA and other companies (almost no one does this, so I’m not singling out ICA) would provide a personnel listing of the orchestra at the time. I appreciate it may not be wholly accurate but I think it would be a nice touch.
Things start with the Handel-Harty Water Music suite, a performance of Beechamesque brio and bravado. If you miss the days of such arrangements then Munch and the Boston won’t let you down. The basses are positioned behind the French horns, and the top to bottom sonority, despite the mono sound, is highly enjoyable. Even though Adolf Busch, Boyd Neel and countless others had trail-blazed in this repertoire, Munch makes no concessions, and nor should he have done. Munch is at his most animated in the Allegro finale, smiling very slightly, his baton swishing about fly-fisherman style in his exuberance. One notices that the director decided that a good idea would be a camera shot ‘stepping down’ the orchestral sections, reasonable in theory, but dodgy in practice, not least when the camera slips, as it does once. One also notices that the Boston was an almost all-male orchestra at the time, and that the average age of the strings, at least, must have been quite high. There are some especially patrician looking gentlemen in the first violin section.
The Linz Symphony is from 1958 and has by far the most degraded film of the three. Grainy and rather unclear, a critic should counsel gently on this point. It’s hardly unwatchable, but you will most certainly notice the difference. The performance is in Munch’s best, taut and linear style; I would suggest George Szell as a reasonable point of comparison in terms of expression. Though sometimes tense, it’s never driven and the wind phrasing throughout is a delight. The Prague was taped in November 1959, with footage comparable in quality to the April 1960 Handel. I sense, unless it’s the increased clarity of the film that alerts me to the upturned eyes directed toward Munch’s beat, that the orchestra follows him that bit more circumspectly in this symphony. He makes the briefest of pauses between the first and second movements, ensuring a kind of symphonic continuity to occur. The band is ready for him, and the unindulged Andante is all the better for his unsentimental approach. The only demerit is not musical but filmic; some mildly chaotic camera panning shots that disrupt things briefly.
Despite such imperfections, I enjoyed the DVD. It enshrines those precious, unrecorded symphonies, grants visual immortality to the Boston denizens, and serves up vital, energising readings. How often you will play it, however, is a question that only you can answer.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
Russian Viola Sonatas / Nelson, Inanga
Sono Luminus
CD
$18.99
Jul 26, 2011
GAIGEROVA Suite for Viola and Piano. WINKLER 2 Pieces, op. 31. Viola Sonata in c. JUON Viola Sonata in D • Eliesha Nelson (va); Glen Inanga (pn) • SONO LUMINUS DSL-92136 (71:02)
Varvara Adrianovna Gaigerova studied with Heinrich Neuhaus, Georgy Catoire, and Nikolai Miaskovsky at the Moscow Conservatory. The same professors taught Dmitri Kabalevsky, Sviatoslav Richter, and Emil Gilels. Gaigerova eventually became one of the Bolshoi Theatre’s hard-working pianists. In her spare time, she composed works for piano and viola as well as a symphony on Kalmyk themes and songs setting texts by Pushkin. She lived in terribly troubled times. For reasons unknown to us, she stayed in Russia when everyone who could left for greener pastures in Europe and the Americas. We do not know what happened to her during World War II, only that she died in 1944, when she was a mere 40 years old.
Eliesha Nelson’s viola has a warm, cream-laden tone. When you hear her play Gaigerova’s sensuous, heartstoppingly beautiful music, you wonder why we have not heard these works before. The Suite for Viola and Piano has sonorities that remind one a little of Scriabin, although Gaigerova’s composition is not in the least derivative. It begins with a propulsive Allegro agitato that gradually transitions to a slower movement. It finishes with a fast-paced section and a plaintive finale. Nelson brings out the luminous textures of this music with her engaging artistry. Her pianist, Glen Inanga, who plays a Steinway concert grand, is a most skillful partner. His contributions add greatly to the value of this disc. So does the clear and immediate sound of Sono Luminus engineers Daniel Shores and Dan Merceruio.
Alexander Winkler’s Elegiac Meditation is a slow and deliberate piece that begins with harmonious double-stopping. The pace shows off the ability of this violist, whose legato is as smooth as an old-fashioned butterscotch sundae. The next track offers a complete change of mood. La Toupie (The Top) describes the spinning of that once common toy. The viola imitates the rhythmic revolutions of a spinning top or wheel and you can see it whirl in your mind’s eye. To some degree, it is reminiscent of earlier composers’ spinning wheels, but here it is much happier and it injects a needed bit of comic relief into the program. The C-Minor Sonata brings us back to earth with compelling and significant music that touches the inner recesses of the soul. In the concluding variations on a tune from Brittany, the composer takes a beautiful folk tune and displays it in various guises: fast, slow, light, heavy, etc. It’s fun to listen to and you will notice that this finely crafted work is played with accuracy and precision.
Paul Juon is sometimes called the Russian Brahms and is thought to be a link between Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky. His D-Major Sonata brings us a glimpse of rare Northern European sunshine. Nelson and Inanga bring out its uplifting melody with a forward motion that keeps the tension tight. Svetlana Stepchenko and Zoya Abolitz recorded this piece on a Russian disc in 1998, but it is no longer easy to find. In any case, there is no need to look for a better rendition than the one by Nelson and Inanga.
FANFARE: Maria Nockin
FANDANGO
HERB ALPERT PRESENTS
CD
$13.99
Sep 09, 2016
FANDANGO - Released 20 years after the Latin-inspired "The Lonely Bull", this album marks a return to a Hispanic sound. Alpert had wanted to do something to commemorate the 20th anniversary of his first hit, so he traveled to Mexico and made a recording intended solely for the Latin-American market. However, his interest was kindled by the diversity and quality of the local musicians, and he decided to record an entire album there. Additionally, research revealed that his hit "Rise" had not made an impact on his Tijuana Brass fanbase, and he wanted an album that bridged the gap between his more contemporary sound and his previous mariachi-influenced style. Remastered from the original analog tape mixes and presented with their original, iconic artwork!
Concertos for Violin
Gramola Records
CD
$24.99
Apr 03, 2026
On the occasion of the 2025 Kreisler anniversary year, the exceptional violinist Benjamin Schmid posed the question: What happens for the violin in Vienna roughly 100 years after Fritz Kreisler? The result is this phenomenal recording with the ORF Radio Symphony Orchestra Vienna under Lorenz Aichner, featuring orchestrated works by Kreisler and the world premiere recording of the Concerto for Beni for Solo Violin and String Orchestra (2023) by Georg Breinschmid, born in Vienna in 1973. To quote the dedicatee, it is a "magnificent violin concerto that, from my perspective, shares much with the musical understanding of Fritz Kreisler: music with unadulterated joy of playing, which devotes itself immediately and as artfully as possible to the parameters of melody, harmonic experience, and dance-like (or groovy) rhythm. There is always a close relationship to instrumental virtuosity and sonority - something very strongly pronounced in both composers." The album includes Fritz Kreisler's Preludium and Allegro "in the Style of Pugnani" and the Viennese Rhapsodic Fantasietta in arrangements for (string) orchestra. Kreisler's Concerto in One Movement, based on the first movement of Paganini's Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 6, is presented here in an arrangement for wind orchestra, recorded with the Salzburg Wind Philharmonic under Hansjörg Angerer.
Ashton: Music For Cello And Piano, Vol. 1 / Mizerska, Abbate
Toccata
CD
$10.49
$20.99
Save 50%
Nov 13, 2012
Ashton (b. 1859, Durham), is a best-kept secret of British music. He has a generous output of piano music, chamber works and songs. Ashton’s writing for both cello and piano is virtuosic. What strikes the ear is the quality of his melodic inspiration – the lyrical immediacy of his tunes suggests Schubert, set in a style of Brahmsian richness. This CD features world premiere recordings.
REVIEW:
Algernon Ashton, (1859–1937) was a British-born composer who was educated in Germany. When his father died in 1863, his mother moved the family to Leipzig where she was befriended by Clara Schumann. Even as a child, Algernon attended the famous Schumann soirees and rubbed shoulders with famous musicians. After finishing his education, he returned to England. He became professor of piano at the Royal Academy of Music in London and spent the rest of his life in England. Ashton was a prolific composer but many of his works were not published and very few have been recorded. His chamber music output includes four sonatas for violin and piano, four for cello and piano, two piano quartets, and two piano quintets. He also wrote symphonies, but they were never published. The opening work on this Toccata disc is his Arioso, a beautiful piece in a contemplative mood. It has some of the colors of Brahms, but none of his rhythmic bite. The Sonata No. 1 in F Major opens with an Allegro Appassionato, an impassioned plea begging the listener to take a mental voyage to Ashton’s lyrical world of drawing rooms with polished grand pianos and crimson velvet drapes where chamber music was as common as video games are today. He develops the second movement, the Larghetto, with consummate skill and clothes it with jewel tones. Only in the Finale, which he asks to be played Allegro Frescamente, does he bring in a truly rhythmic melody. It could be a happy folk dance replete with clapping and stomping on the accented notes. It’s the kind of music that makes you get up and move! Abbate and Mizerska play all of this music joyfully and with great skill.
The Phantasiestücke is an invitation to reverie. Ashton is a master of melody and he begins with a broad sunny tune that might bring back memories of a hike in German or English woodlands. In the second movement, marked Andantino con Gran Espressione, he leads us away from the cares of the everyday world into the nirvana of pure musical concentration where we can spend a few blissful minutes. After we reach our goal, we return to the village for the last movement marked Allegro Scherzando. There we can relax and tap our toes to another of Ashton’s fast and furious folk tunes. The Second Sonata is a bit more dramatic than the First. Its markings, Moderato and Adagio ma non troppo are somewhat deceiving, because this work is constantly increasing in tension as it builds toward its marvelously animated finale. The two fine artists who currently reside and teach in London, the Polish-born Evva Mizerska and the Naples-born Emma Abbate, play all of this music with great finesse. Ashton’s music is a revelation. It deserves a much wider audience than it has had so far. The sound on the disc is clear with each instrument given equal presence. I enjoyed getting to know Ashton’s story and his music and think this disc should have a place in many record libraries.
-- Fanfare
J.A. Groneman & J.F. Groneman: Rococo Flute Music
Brilliant Classics
CD
$9.99
$12.99
Save 25%
Aug 09, 2024
18th-century sonatas by a pair of musical brothers, in stylish historically informed performances from 1994. Very little music by the brothers Groneman is known in modern times beyond the pieces on this album, which have survived simply because of their popularity with flautists of their day. Pleasing both to hear and to play, these sonatas exert an additional fascination today for the insights they give into the taste and technique of the 18th-century flautist. Johannes Albertus Groneman (c.1708-1781) and Johannes Fredericus Groneman (1711-1778) were both probably born in Cologne, where their father was a military-band musician. Albertus developed his skill as a violinist beyond mere proficiency, and left to ply his trade as a jobbing musician in what is now the Netherlands. Having settled in Leiden around 1731, he wrote virtuosic pieces for violin and flute which proved popular enough to be published and republished in London and Paris. He performed throughout Holland, and then moved from Leiden to The Hague, where he was awarded a lucrative and coveted position as church organist. This career of steady accomplishment and gathering renown came to a sudden and tragic end in 1756 when he was committed to an asylum, where he lived out his days in penury. Meanwhile Fredericus is a much more shadowy figure to us: the three books of his flute sonatas listed in contemporary publishers' catalogues have disappeared, as have any details of his life and career. Of his gifts as a musician, there can be no doubt, to judge from the sonatas presented here, showing as they do an up-to-date knowledge of the latest musical trends set by masters such as Tartini and Geminiani, and yet display an expressive style entirely their own. Likewise, the two flute duets by Albertus Groneman demonstrate why his music proved to be so popular during his lifetime: they are in turn gracious, surprising, virtuosic and sweetly-singing, and display the full range of the flute's possibilities. Like Telemann's duets of the same period, they are full of fantasy and.wit and testify not only to the worthiness of their creator, but also to the taste of the 18th century flutist who loved them so well. Originally issued on the Dutch label NM Classics, this reissue restores a valuable window into the vibrant culture of chamber music in 18th-century Holland, performed by specialists in the field. - Johannes Albertus Groneman (baptized 1711-1778) and his brother Johannes Fredericus were born in Hamm (Germany) into a musical family. They enjoyed an education typical of musician's sons in the 18th century, learning from their father the trade, playing several instruments and instructed in composition, harmony and singing. Through his teacher Carl Rosier Albertus was introduced in the Netherlands, where he settled in Utrecht in 1729, later moving to Leiden. It is during this Leiden period that most of Groneman's music which survived, and indeed probably all of the music of this recording, was composed. Upon his arrival in the famous university town, Groneman was able to establish himself with ease in the highest social circles, enjoying the friendship and patronage of patricians and professors, while wealthy merchants and musicians of international repute became godparents to his children. He bought a Stradivarius violin and an especially beautiful harpsichord made by famous Flemish harpsichord maker Ruckers. He published virtuoso music for violin and flute which proved popular enough to be published and republished in London and Paris. - The Flute Sonatas consist of three movements, brilliant allegros framing a melancholy and moving andante full of bold harmonies. The style is gracious and sweetly-singing, displaying the full range of the flute's brilliant possibilities. - Performed by Jed Wentz, a pioneer in the performance practice of notably French Baroque music for his instrument. His many recordings for Brilliant Classics (J.S. Bach and C.P.E. Bach, Blavet, Couperin, Boismortier, Braun, Roman) have established him as one of the foremost interpreters in this field. - Recorded in 1994, a reissue from the NM Classics catalogue, the label for music from the Netherlands.
Stanford: Symphonies no 2 and 5 / Lloyd-Jones
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Oct 30, 2007
If you bought the earlier issue, do not hesitate to add this disc to your shelves
Hot on the heels of the first volume of the projected Naxos Stanford symphony cycle (see review) comes Volume Two, which again features David Lloyd-Jones at the helm of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra.
The Second symphony was premièred, under the composer’s baton, in Cambridge in 1882 and there’s a passing link with the subsequent première of the Fourth symphony in Berlin. In that latter concert Joseph Joachim was the soloist in Stanford’s Suite for Violin and Orchestra. Joachim also participated in the Cambridge concert of 1882, playing the Brahms concerto on that occasion. Following the first performance in 1882 there was another airing of the Second symphony at the Gloucester Three Choirs Festival in the following year. However, in his notes for Vernon Handley’s 1991 recording, Lewis Foreman states that he had been unable to trace any further performances until 1990, when the Ulster Orchestra gave it, presumably as a precursor to the Handley recording for Chandos.
The symphony bears the title ‘Elegiac’ and Stanford prefaced the score with four stanzas from Tennyson’s poem, In Memoriam. However, I’m bound to say that I find it hard to detect any elegiac tone in the music itself. The first movement is marked Allegro appassionato. It’s a vigorous movement in which one feels the music is moving forward pretty constantly, culminating in a dramatic coda.
The main theme of the second movement, a Largo espressivo, is rightly described by annotator Richard Whitehouse, as “both graceful and expressive.” This is rather lovely music, which consistently displays a singing quality. This is followed by a genuine scherzo. The outer sections of this quite short movement display a drive that is Beethoven-like. In between is encased a brief lyrical trio but it’s noticeable that even here the timpani maintain the rhythmic pulse underneath the music, albeit quietly, for much of the time.
The finale opens with an adagio introduction that has a decidedly Brahmsian feel. Once the main allegro is reached that section opens with some delightful wind writing after which the music surges along with no little purpose. This finale has genuine drive and momentum and it builds to a jubilant coda in which, once again, I hear the influence of Brahms.
The Fifth symphony dates from 1894 and Stanford drew his inspiration from two poems by John Milton (1608-1674). He inscribed several stanzas from each in the score and, helpfully, Naxos include these verses in the English version of the booklet notes.
The principal subject of the first movement, ushered in by the woodwind at 1:45, is rather jolly. However, there had been quite a degree of urgency to the brief introduction and this urgency remains as a kind of background presence underpinning the essential joviality of the movement as a whole. The music has constant vitality and is fresh and enjoyable to hear. For the second movement Stanford follows the precedent of Brahms by writing an intermezzo, which bears the Brahmsian indication Allegretto grazioso. Lewis Foreman described this movement in his note for the Chandos-Handley recording as “a gently pastoral minuet”. That’s not quite how it comes across in this present performance, however. Lloyd-Jones adopts a slightly faster speed than Handley – he takes 6:28 against Handley’s 6:56 – and thereby gives the music quite a different character. I wouldn’t presume to say which approach is better. To be truthful, I think both work in their own way though I have a marginal preference for the way the movement goes in Handley’s hands. The bottom line is that both conductors are successful in bringing out the genial character of the music.
The third movement, Andante molto tranquillo, was inspired by Il penseroso. Richard Whitehouse describes this movement as “searching” and I agree. It begins with some fine, expansive string writing, which is gradually enriched by the addition of woodwind and horns. This is Stanford at his noble, expansive best. At 3:47 Stanford introduces new material, with flute and clarinet appropriately to the fore as he responds to Milton’s lines about the nightingale, beginning “Sweet bird that shunn’st the noise of folly.” This material is developed for a while until, after a majestic passage for brass (around 6:00) the opening lyrical material returns, but this time in even richer guise and it’s with this that Stanford brings a most impressive movement to a close.
There’s a strange opening to the finale, featuring quiet, stabbing chords. At 0:33 a restless melody in dotted rhythm appears, first on the strings and then taken up by the winds but the music doesn’t really seem to get into its stride until about 1:20. As the movement unfolds the tone becomes more assertive though those stabbing chords keep cropping up. The last of Milton’s stanzas quoted by Stanford begins “There let the pealing organ blow” and Stanford does indeed add an organ to the orchestral palette (at 8:10) though its initial entry is quiet, just gently underpinning the orchestra. At 10:34 the full orchestra and organ intone a majestic chorale and one thinks that this is the Big Finish. Not so. The music winds down and Stanford brings the movement instead to a rich, luminous but quiet conclusion, which I find very satisfying and which aptly echoes Milton’s words:
Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.
It’s not easy to place these two symphonies. Neither is the equal of Elgar’s symphonies but they are far from negligible and these admirable performances under the convincing leadership of David Lloyd-Jones confirm that they do not deserve the neglect into which they have fallen. Lloyd-Jones obtains fine playing from the Bournemouth orchestra and, as with the previous issue in this series, they have been accorded warm yet detailed sound.
This is another distinguished instalment in this Stanford cycle. Vernon Handley’s pioneering set (Chandos) is most certainly not displaced but these Naxos recordings, and this latest one in particular, can stand proudly shoulder to shoulder beside them. Collectors who bought the earlier issue of the Fourth and Seventh symphonies should not hesitate to add this companion volume to their shelves. More please!
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Hot on the heels of the first volume of the projected Naxos Stanford symphony cycle (see review) comes Volume Two, which again features David Lloyd-Jones at the helm of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra.
The Second symphony was premièred, under the composer’s baton, in Cambridge in 1882 and there’s a passing link with the subsequent première of the Fourth symphony in Berlin. In that latter concert Joseph Joachim was the soloist in Stanford’s Suite for Violin and Orchestra. Joachim also participated in the Cambridge concert of 1882, playing the Brahms concerto on that occasion. Following the first performance in 1882 there was another airing of the Second symphony at the Gloucester Three Choirs Festival in the following year. However, in his notes for Vernon Handley’s 1991 recording, Lewis Foreman states that he had been unable to trace any further performances until 1990, when the Ulster Orchestra gave it, presumably as a precursor to the Handley recording for Chandos.
The symphony bears the title ‘Elegiac’ and Stanford prefaced the score with four stanzas from Tennyson’s poem, In Memoriam. However, I’m bound to say that I find it hard to detect any elegiac tone in the music itself. The first movement is marked Allegro appassionato. It’s a vigorous movement in which one feels the music is moving forward pretty constantly, culminating in a dramatic coda.
The main theme of the second movement, a Largo espressivo, is rightly described by annotator Richard Whitehouse, as “both graceful and expressive.” This is rather lovely music, which consistently displays a singing quality. This is followed by a genuine scherzo. The outer sections of this quite short movement display a drive that is Beethoven-like. In between is encased a brief lyrical trio but it’s noticeable that even here the timpani maintain the rhythmic pulse underneath the music, albeit quietly, for much of the time.
The finale opens with an adagio introduction that has a decidedly Brahmsian feel. Once the main allegro is reached that section opens with some delightful wind writing after which the music surges along with no little purpose. This finale has genuine drive and momentum and it builds to a jubilant coda in which, once again, I hear the influence of Brahms.
The Fifth symphony dates from 1894 and Stanford drew his inspiration from two poems by John Milton (1608-1674). He inscribed several stanzas from each in the score and, helpfully, Naxos include these verses in the English version of the booklet notes.
The principal subject of the first movement, ushered in by the woodwind at 1:45, is rather jolly. However, there had been quite a degree of urgency to the brief introduction and this urgency remains as a kind of background presence underpinning the essential joviality of the movement as a whole. The music has constant vitality and is fresh and enjoyable to hear. For the second movement Stanford follows the precedent of Brahms by writing an intermezzo, which bears the Brahmsian indication Allegretto grazioso. Lewis Foreman described this movement in his note for the Chandos-Handley recording as “a gently pastoral minuet”. That’s not quite how it comes across in this present performance, however. Lloyd-Jones adopts a slightly faster speed than Handley – he takes 6:28 against Handley’s 6:56 – and thereby gives the music quite a different character. I wouldn’t presume to say which approach is better. To be truthful, I think both work in their own way though I have a marginal preference for the way the movement goes in Handley’s hands. The bottom line is that both conductors are successful in bringing out the genial character of the music.
The third movement, Andante molto tranquillo, was inspired by Il penseroso. Richard Whitehouse describes this movement as “searching” and I agree. It begins with some fine, expansive string writing, which is gradually enriched by the addition of woodwind and horns. This is Stanford at his noble, expansive best. At 3:47 Stanford introduces new material, with flute and clarinet appropriately to the fore as he responds to Milton’s lines about the nightingale, beginning “Sweet bird that shunn’st the noise of folly.” This material is developed for a while until, after a majestic passage for brass (around 6:00) the opening lyrical material returns, but this time in even richer guise and it’s with this that Stanford brings a most impressive movement to a close.
There’s a strange opening to the finale, featuring quiet, stabbing chords. At 0:33 a restless melody in dotted rhythm appears, first on the strings and then taken up by the winds but the music doesn’t really seem to get into its stride until about 1:20. As the movement unfolds the tone becomes more assertive though those stabbing chords keep cropping up. The last of Milton’s stanzas quoted by Stanford begins “There let the pealing organ blow” and Stanford does indeed add an organ to the orchestral palette (at 8:10) though its initial entry is quiet, just gently underpinning the orchestra. At 10:34 the full orchestra and organ intone a majestic chorale and one thinks that this is the Big Finish. Not so. The music winds down and Stanford brings the movement instead to a rich, luminous but quiet conclusion, which I find very satisfying and which aptly echoes Milton’s words:
Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.
It’s not easy to place these two symphonies. Neither is the equal of Elgar’s symphonies but they are far from negligible and these admirable performances under the convincing leadership of David Lloyd-Jones confirm that they do not deserve the neglect into which they have fallen. Lloyd-Jones obtains fine playing from the Bournemouth orchestra and, as with the previous issue in this series, they have been accorded warm yet detailed sound.
This is another distinguished instalment in this Stanford cycle. Vernon Handley’s pioneering set (Chandos) is most certainly not displaced but these Naxos recordings, and this latest one in particular, can stand proudly shoulder to shoulder beside them. Collectors who bought the earlier issue of the Fourth and Seventh symphonies should not hesitate to add this companion volume to their shelves. More please!
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
