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SaleVicente Baset: Symphonies - Madrid, 1753 / Forma Antiqva, Aaron Zapico
Winter & Winter · Oct 2020CD$20.99$10.49 -
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The Flute at the Court of Frederick the Great / Jean-Pierre Rampal
CBS Masterworks · May 2009CD$17.99 -
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Dohnányi: Violin Concertos No 1 & 2 / Ludwig, Falletta, Royal Scottish NO
Naxos · Apr 2008CD$19.99
Brahms: Symphony No 1, Overtures / Alsop, London PO
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Feb 22, 2005
Okay, we all know that at this point no one needs a new Brahms cycle, but this first installment has one thing going for it: Marin Alsop appears to be a fine Brahms conductor. She begins the First Symphony with an introduction that would have made Klemperer sit up and take notice: it's that grand and imposing. Happily, she also launches the allegro (exposition repeat retained) with genuine thrust and energy, while her generous rubato as she relaxes into the second subject is effortlessly managed--and she builds to the recapitulation with plenty of excitement and rhythmic tension. This is the genuine article, make no mistake. The slow movement reveals the same beautifully controlled transitions, the tempo nicely flowing, marred only by an insensitive solo violin, too closely miked.
The third movement reveals one other small flaw in the performance: rather faceless wind playing from clarinets and oboes (to some degree a function of the forward string balances and generous reverberation that otherwise serves the music to impressive effect). Alsop builds the brooding introduction to the finale with an unerring feel for the music's atmosphere, though I wish she had launched the movement proper with a swifter account of the "big tune". To her credit, though, she doesn't lurch forward at the forte counterstatement, but rather accumulates energy naturally. The coda goes really well, with an impressive feeling of culmination, and Alsop takes care to make the trombones audible in the final bars, a nice touch that sets the seal on a very distinguished effort.
The two overtures are no less impressive. Of course, the Academic Festival is practically unkillable, but Alsop's pointed rhythms help project the music's joyous humor while preventing the familiar tunes from sounding foursquare. Her Tragic Overture is one of the best, at a tempo remarkably close to Ancerl's benchmark interpretation--which is to say slowish and implacably serious. At this speed, the rich harmonies of the second subject and throughout the development really tell, and the climaxes have time to register with the necessary impact. I look forward very much to the next installments in this series.
As I said, the market doesn't really need this, but Naxos is right to let Alsop shine in the music she identifies with most strongly, and her Brahms certainly qualifies. Besides, wonderful though it is to conduct lots of Barber, Reich, and Glass, the fact remains that careers are made in the standard repertoire, where comparisons with illustrious interpretations past and present are made. Certainly on evidence here Alsop has nothing to fear from the competition. If the rest of this cycle remains at this high level (that is, if she pegs the finale of the Second Symphony and becomes one of the very few conductors to play the Third really well), then I would say her reputation will be secure for some time to come.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
The third movement reveals one other small flaw in the performance: rather faceless wind playing from clarinets and oboes (to some degree a function of the forward string balances and generous reverberation that otherwise serves the music to impressive effect). Alsop builds the brooding introduction to the finale with an unerring feel for the music's atmosphere, though I wish she had launched the movement proper with a swifter account of the "big tune". To her credit, though, she doesn't lurch forward at the forte counterstatement, but rather accumulates energy naturally. The coda goes really well, with an impressive feeling of culmination, and Alsop takes care to make the trombones audible in the final bars, a nice touch that sets the seal on a very distinguished effort.
The two overtures are no less impressive. Of course, the Academic Festival is practically unkillable, but Alsop's pointed rhythms help project the music's joyous humor while preventing the familiar tunes from sounding foursquare. Her Tragic Overture is one of the best, at a tempo remarkably close to Ancerl's benchmark interpretation--which is to say slowish and implacably serious. At this speed, the rich harmonies of the second subject and throughout the development really tell, and the climaxes have time to register with the necessary impact. I look forward very much to the next installments in this series.
As I said, the market doesn't really need this, but Naxos is right to let Alsop shine in the music she identifies with most strongly, and her Brahms certainly qualifies. Besides, wonderful though it is to conduct lots of Barber, Reich, and Glass, the fact remains that careers are made in the standard repertoire, where comparisons with illustrious interpretations past and present are made. Certainly on evidence here Alsop has nothing to fear from the competition. If the rest of this cycle remains at this high level (that is, if she pegs the finale of the Second Symphony and becomes one of the very few conductors to play the Third really well), then I would say her reputation will be secure for some time to come.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
MOZART: Mass No. 18 in C minor, K. 427, 'Great' / Kyrie in D
Naxos
CD
$13.99
$19.99
Save 30%
Oct 01, 2000
The Mass in C minor reflects Mozart's current preoccupation with the music of Handel and Johann Sebastian Bach, explored with the encouragement of Baron van Swieten, an important patron. The work is scored for pairs of oboes, bassoons, horns, trumpets and timpani, with three trombones, strings and organ continuo. After a brief orchestral introduction, the four vocal sections enter in contrapuntal imitation and the movement continues in the monumental and generally conservative style that the Salzburg Archbishop would certainly have discouraged. The soprano soloist introduces the florid Italianate Christe eleison and the contrapuntal choral texture is resumed with the return of the Kyrie. The Gloria opens in affirmative C major, leading almost at once to energetic fugal writing, relaxing momentarily at the words pax hominibus bonae voluntatis (peace to men of good will). Laudamus te is in F major, marked Allegro aperto. It is scored for solo soprano, oboes, horns and strings and is in operatic style. Trombones and bassoons return for the A minor Adagio of Gratias agimus tibi, now with a five-part choir. To this the D minor Domine Deus, Rex caelestis, scored for strings and two soprano soloists, offers an immediate contrast. In Salzburg the second soprano would presumably have been sung by one of the castrati employed by the court musical establishment. There is a return to a more traditional Baroque style in the solid dotted rhythms of the G minor Qui tollis peccata mundi, for two four-part choirs with the full orchestra. The two soprano soloists are joined by a solo tenor for the E minor setting of Quoniam tu solus Dominus, scored without trombones or horns. The solo voices enter in energetic contrapuntal imitation, over which the spirit of Handel seems to loom, seen through a Mozartian prism. There is a brief C major choral Adagio for the words Jesu Christe, before the splendid formal Baroque fugal setting of Cum Sancto Spiritu, in the same key. The unfinished Credo starts with a movement for five-part choir, scored without trombones.
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]
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
Petrali: Organ Music / Paolo Bottini
Brilliant Classics
CD
$8.99
$17.99
Save 50%
Nov 20, 2020
Vincenzo Petrali (1830-1889) was an organist-composer active in the north of Italy. Acclaimed in his own time as a master improviser, the equal in this regard to French contemporaries such as Guilmant and Widor, he left a small, beautifully crafted body of original work for ecclesiastical use, around a third of it presented on this new album. He wrote two organ Masses in the tradition of 17th-century Venetian school composers such as Merula and Merulo, in which each verse of the text and its associated Gregorian chant inspires an instrumental meditation: Paolo Bottini has recorded the lesser-known F major Mass, which includes an especially dramatic, march-like Sonata for the Offertory and an ebullient final Allegro festoso. He belonged to the Cecilian movement, exemplified by the sacred works of Mendelssohn, which sought to establish a new and distinctive idiom for church composition, which is heard to best effect in a quartet of Communion pieces at the end of the first album, which fully exploit the size and array of tone-colors available to him on the newly built instruments of the time. In this spirit Petrali also composed 71 studies ‘for the modern organ’, collected in two volumes, and Paolo Bottini presents almost half of them on album 2. While composed with didactic purposes in mind, training pedal technique, introspection or melancholy but often rhythmic precision, sensitivity and imagination in handling different registers and stops and the like, the studies are delightful character pieces in their own right, not much given to surprisingly sunny in character.
Life With Czech Music - Dvorak, Smetana / Charles Mackerras
Supraphon
CD
$88.99
Oct 15, 2010
Also available: Life with Czech Music - Janácek, Martinu / Sir Charles Mackerras 
-----
Reviews:
Symphonic Variations, Legends, Scherzo capriccioso
Charles Mackerras recorded all of this music in London for EMI's "Eminence" series, but those discs may be very difficult to find, and in any case they fail to stand up to these marvelous remakes. What makes so many Mackerras performances special is the conductor's buoyant sense of rhythm, and when he's working the Czech Philharmonic in top form that result can be (and in this case is) exquisite. There's no need to go on at length about the virtues of these performances. A few examples suffice to illustrate the point: there's the wonderful lightness of touch Mackerras brings to the waltz episode in the Symphonic Variations and its dazzling final fugue; the care with which he balances the percussion in the Scherzo capriccioso so that its rhythmic contributions tell without ever becoming overbearing; and in the Legends, the snap he brings to the quicker pieces (such as No. 3) and the wonderfully subtle way he sets up the appearance (in No. 6) of that gorgeous tune from the Third Symphony's slow movement. Sonically this disc is equally fine. Note the perfect balances between winds and strings throughout and the gorgeous contribution of the harp in the Legends that call for it. Totally great!
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Symphony no 6, Golden Spinning Wheel
In his equally laudatory review of this fantastic new release, my colleague Christophe Huss salutes Supraphon for managing to remain true to its dedication to Czech music while at the same time upholding the highest standards of performance quality. To this observation I can only add "Amen!" The label already has a couple of noteworthy versions of Dvorák's luminous Sixth Symphony with the incomparable (in this music anyway) Czech Philharmonic--a very good one by Neumann and a classic account by Ancerl. In fact, this symphony has been very well-served on disc, with excellent recordings by Kubelik, Rowicki, and Suitner, to name three of the best that come immediately to mind. Nevertheless, this newcomer bids fair to move right to the top of the available discography.
Recorded live, the rapport in evidence between Charles Mackerras and the orchestra really is the stuff of legends. There are so many outstanding moments that it's hard to settle on just a few, but consider the fortissimo counterstatement of the opening tune, just a touch "pesante" for added emphasis, or the gorgeously natural rubato between phrases of the same movement's second subject, and the way the coda really takes off and builds in energy straight through to the final climax. Then there's the usual gorgeous wind playing from the orchestra, so evident in the Adagio. Mackerras drives the scherzo with exhilarating abandon, and although he never bears down on the rhythm too heavily (always maintaining the lilt of the dance), the clarity of texture allows such characterful touches as the offbeat timpani in the reprise to register with full impact. I also love the extra punch he brings to the principal section's return after the trio.
Best of all, Mackerras treats us to what must be the most thrilling account of the finale yet captured on disc. It takes off like the wind and never looks back, simply accumulating energy as it goes. The great string fugato that initiates the coda flies by as if on mighty wings, and the grandiosity of the closing pages never loses that vital rhythmic impulse that gives the music its inner life. I wish that Supraphon had not included the applause at the end, but when you consider that all of this, and so much else besides, is happening in real time you will understand that anyone who believes that the era of "great" conductors is past simply hasn't been listening. If this sort of artistic communion between conductor and orchestra in the service of a brilliant interpretation isn't greatness, then we need to ask whether the term has any meaning at all.
The Golden Spinning Wheel (a studio recording this time) also receives what is arguably its finest performance on disc, even considering Harnoncourt's outstanding recent version. The opening, usually a blur of muddy rhythms in the lower strings and indifferently played percussion, here sounds as crisp and clean as a spring morning. I have never understood why some performances cut the central episode wherein the holy hermit gets back the heroine's various body parts (so he can patch her together again) in exchange for the components of the golden spinning wheel. The threefold musical repetition is not literal, and the orchestration is enchanting. The section is, in effect, the slow movement following the scherzo in which poor Dornicka gets hacked to bits in the first place, and it's a necessary four minutes of contrast. Finally, this is the moment where we encounter most of the "spinning wheel" music of the title. Mackerras rightly doesn't delete it, and hearing those deliciously chubby brass chorales and lovely wind solos alongside such characterful phrasing, you can't imagine why anyone would. The last few minutes offer as pure an expression of joy as you'll ever hear.
Supraphon's engineering is outstanding in both works, a touch warmer in the symphony (perhaps as a result of the presence of an audience), but in all respects as fine as any from this source. That audience, by the way, is absolutely silent, and with music-making of such spellbinding quality going on it's no wonder. Coming hard on the heels of his sensational Janácek double CD a few months ago, it's clear that Mackerras' Supraphon recordings will comprise a small but outstanding legacy worthy to stand beside the great recordings of such legends as Talich or Ancerl, and that the great Czech tradition is very much alive both in Prague and at Supraphon. Buy a few of these: they make terrific gifts for special occasions, and you can be sure to get a hearty "Thank you!" from the lucky objects of your affection. But first, treat yourself.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Symphonies 8 & 9
At 80 years young, Charles Mackerras remains one of the great conductors of our era, not to mention one of the most unheralded. His unfailing musicality, intelligence, and sheer joy in performing communicates vividly in these two glorious performances, beautifully recorded live in September, 2005. They are the kind of interpretations that make you listen as if for the first time to music you probably know well. This isn't just because Mackerras opts for the Urtext editions of both scores, most noticeable in the finale of the Eighth Symphony, where after the central climax he has the cellos play the variant of the main theme contained in Dvorák's autograph (Harnoncourt and a few others do similarly). What really distinguishes these performances is their sheer excitement and vital sense of flow, a function of rhythmically characterful phrasing allied to ideally transparent textures.
This is as true of the bucolic first two movements of the Eighth Symphony, where the woodwinds are especially delightful, as it is in the tremendously physical and passionate initial allegro of the Ninth. Has this movement's coda ever sounded more stormily agitated? And notice how marvellously Mackerras judges the tempo of the ensuing Largo, perfectly poised between rapt contemplation and easeful forward motion. Rhythmic acuity is the hallmark of both scherzos: a deliciously pointed waltz in the Eighth, and a swiftly vivacious Slavonic dance in the Ninth.
In the two finales, so often turned into stop-and-start affairs by less adept conductors, Mackerras creates an irresistible feeling of culmination, choosing rousing initial tempos and then for the most part sticking to them. The Eighth's concluding variations seldom have come across more cogently, particularly the lazy last three, which never bog down in excessive Romantic reverie. The Prague Symphony Orchestra responds to Mackerras' direction with amazing gusto, as if it doesn't already know the music backwards and forwards, and the audience is admirably silent. There are other wonderful performances of this music out there, but this truly is as good as it gets.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Slavonic Dances
It's been along time since Supraphon made a great new recording of Dvorák's delicious Slavonic Dances, but it's been worth the wait. Charles Mackerras is one of the two or three finest conductors alive at present, and he knows this music, loves it, and makes the orchestra play it as if it were as fresh as the day it was written. This is no mean feat, since the Czech Philharmonic knows these pieces blindfolded; or at least they think that they do. It's amazing how many seemingly new details Mackerras reveals (particularly in his characterful treatment of the percussion parts, and the careful dynamic balances involving the brass section) that on closer examination turn out to have been exactly what the composer wrote all along. He's particularly crisp and attentive to rhythm in the waltz-like dances (Op. 46 No. 6 and Op. 72 No. 8), where he catches the music's lilt to perfection. But then, he doesn't really put a foot wrong anywhere. The great recordings of these pieces are by Kubelik (DG), Dorati (Mercury), Szell (Sony), Talich (Supraphon), and Sejna (Supraphon). This newcomer, warmly recorded with fine inner detail, belongs in their august company.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Symphonic Poems
"You won't find better conducting in this music anywhere. Charles Mackerras finds so many wonderful details in these pieces that it's impossible to list them all, and he does it at all tempos and dynamic levels. Listen to his subtle underlining of rhythm in The Wood Dove's opening funeral march, and compare it to the unrivaled glitter of its central party music. Bask in the woodwind timbres at the opening of The Noonday Witch, and marvel at just how much music Mackerras finds even in the stormy climax of The Water Goblin. It's an unalloyed delight from the first note to the last.
Of course, the Czech Philharmonic plays these pieces magnificently. The sonics, however, are not as brilliant as the performances, and that's not unusual from this venue, with its somewhat cavernous acoustic. Slightly recessed brass and percussion lessen the impact of the climaxes somewhat, but it's awfully hard to quibble when the interpretations are this strong. Self-recommending."
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Ma Vlast
Taken down live at the 1999 Prague Spring Festival, Charles Mackerras' performance offers a typically fresh, vital look at Smetana's masterpiece. With the Czech Philharmonic in fine form, the result is completely recommendable, even if it doesn't have quite the personality of Kubelik's emotional return performance of 1990, or that special orchestral sonority that Talich or Ancerl enjoyed. Mackerras' interpretive insights are subtle, but fans of this music will find plenty to enjoy, such as the correctly played (for once!) trumpet rhythms at the climax of "Vltava", the carefully balanced brass and string sonorities at the opening of "From Bohemia's Woods and Fields", and the propulsive thrust that cleverly disguises the monothematic repetitiousness of "Tábor" and "Blaník". The up-close, live recording manages to minimize most audience noises but necessarily spotlights certain instruments (harps right at the beginning) in a way that precludes a truly expansive soundstage. On the other hand, the notorious reverberation of the Rudolfinum has been successfully tamed, thanks in part to the presence of the public. We're not exactly dying for another recording of this work, but it's impossible not to welcome music making of this enthusiasm and idiomatic security with anything less than open arms.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Auryn Series Vol Ix - French String Quartets
TACET Musikproduktion
CD
$23.99
Feb 26, 2003
The Auryn Quartet plays these works with such sovereign ease that in places they sound positively casual. But don't let this fact give any impression of complacency on the part of the players--rather the performances reveal a certain aristocratic elegance that serves these works particularly well. In the Ravel, for example, note the purity of intonation in the unison octaves of the first movement's second subject, or the finale's almost insolent vitality. The Debussy, as befits its more passionate idiom, commands a correspondingly more dramatic approach, but never at the expense of the conversational quality that great quartet playing always preserves. The group's give and take in the scherzo displays a particularly memorable species of relaxed charm, with the ensuing Andantino truly "doucement expressif", as the composer directs.
Fauré's elusive late masterpiece conceals numerous harmonic surprises below its outwardly placid surface, a fact that the Auryn Quartet surely understands. Listen to the subtle but always impeccably clear voicing of the central Andante's delicate web of lyrical polyphony, and to the players' ability to float the rhythms of the concluding Allegro across the bar lines. In sum, these are performances of remarkable distinction and polish, captured in state-of-the-art sonics. Another winner from this small but almost invariably excellent label. [5/31/2003]
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Vicente Baset: Symphonies - Madrid, 1753 / Forma Antiqva, Aaron Zapico
Winter & Winter
CD
$10.49
$20.99
Save 50%
Oct 16, 2020
Baset writes the rare note "Allegro con valentía" at the beginning of his 10th symphony. It seems to be a declaration of intent when it comes to realizing his compositions, which is far removed from the fashion of Italian imitation. A breathtaking, experimental, courageous music that drinks from the theatrical effects of a fascinating time full of chiaroscuro (light and dark). A new work on the European music scene that demands an uncompromising, imaginative interpretation. Courageous! Forma Antiqva, directed by Aarón Zapico, nourished by the best generation of Spanish musicians, deals with the important phase of Spanish Baroque music in an ideal time of growth and development.
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
Symphony 8
Naxos
CD
$19.99
May 01, 2004
Diamond dedicated his Symphony No. 8 to his friend and mentor, composer Aaron Copland on the occasion of his sixtieth birthday. The work was completed in November 1960 and received it's première with Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic on 27th October, 1961. While essentially tonal in harmonic language, Diamond incorporated highly chromatic elements and even a twelve-note tone row, not unlike what the Symphony's dedicatee was doing during this same period in his Connotations, though Diamond's work is far less aggressively dissonant in overall sound. The composer provided these notes for the première performance: I. Moderato-Adagio-Allegro vivo. The basic row is proclaimed in the very opening bars of the introduction; it is in two halves. The first, a forceful rhythmic theme of five notes (4/4), is thundered out by the orchestra tutti. The second, a more lyric theme of seven notes (3/4), is sung softly by a single clarinet. Thematically, the second phrase is destined to be the more important; in fact, the row is immediately rearranged and presented by a solo horn, which starts with this second phrase in an even more lyric version, and concludes with a lyric transformation of the thundering five-note opening. The fast body of the movement, a free sonata-allegro structure, starts with a heavily syncopated version of the row as presented by the French horn. This is the principal theme; a contrasting second theme is presented at a more relaxed tempo by a solo clarinet, ben cantando, over a soft counterpart of strings. Both themes are developed, and return in very nearly their original form during the course of this long but highly concentrated movement. The conclusion is a stunning climax compounded of the essence of both themes. II. Theme (Adagio), Variations and Double Fugue. After a two-measure introduction, which turns into a sequential accompaniment, the first violins begin a high, flowing melody that is the theme (3/4). Soon the orchestral basses and cellos enter with this same melody, while the violins continue the forty-measure theme. Variation No. 1 is a canon, in which the violins lead and cellos follow with the same melody, always at a distance of one measure. There are seven variations in all, the last of which repeats a long section from No. 1, and then leads without pause into the lively double-fugue. The first principal theme of this is derived from the principal theme of the first movement. Other themes from the first movement make their appearance, too, as the Symphony moves on to it's climax and conclusion.
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
Italian Harpsichordists on Guitar
Brilliant Classics
CD
$12.99
Apr 30, 2026
The guitar is an expressive harpsichord declared the composer Claude Debussy after a concert by the Catalan guitarist, Miguel Llobet. The classic guitar has benefited, more than most other instruments, from arrangements of music of many genres. Renaissance and Baroque music especially suit the timbre and range of the guitar and keyboard music is ideal for playing on the guitar, often direct from the original score. Debussy's comment may be unjust to harpsichordists, but the expressive limits of the guitar may be said to outweigh those of the harpsichord. Girolamo Frescobaldi was born in Ferrara, one of the most musically stimulating cities in Italy at the end of the 1500s. He was organist of St Peter's, Rome and is said to have also been a magnificent harpsichordist. His influence spread not just through Italy, but also north of the Alps. Gaetano Greco (also Grieco) was born and worked in Naples, notably as Maestro di cappella of the Basilica in Naples from 1704-1720. He was an influential figure, numbering Domenico Scarlatti and Nicola Porpora among his pupils. If we know the name Domenico Alberti nowadays it is probably only through the eponymous bass figuration heard in many classical and pre-classical keyboard pieces. The lively Giga, from his collection of Sonatas Op.1 gives way to a more elegant Allegro from a Sonata da camera. As well as being a composer and a pupil of Pasquini, Domenico Zipoli trained for the priesthood as a Jesuit. He emigrated to Paraguay, where he aimed to complete his training, but died before he could be ordained. With Bernardo Pasquini we bridge the gap between Frescobaldi and Domenico Scarlatti. Pasquini made a close study of Frescobaldi's work, especially his early Fantasie and employed some of these ideas in his variations. Moving forward 50 years from Pasquini, Benedetto Marcello proved to be a real polymath, with interests in politics, law and literature. He left behind a substantial number of sonatas, especially for cello and harpsichord. Like Marcello, Domenico Cimarosa's main musical output was vocal music, mainly operas, of which he wrote more than 80, admired by Mozart and performed by Haydn at Eszterhaza. Cimarosa's Sonatas are a refreshing leap into the early classical style, while acknowledging Domenico Scarlatti's influence. Domenico Scarlatti's keyboard output, 555 sonatas, dwarfs all the other composers on this recording. The similarity in range between the harpsichord and the guitar makes transcriptions relatively easy. Paradies was another composer whose music was valued by Mozart, as well as Clementi and Cramer, both keyboard virtuosi of the late 1700s and early 1800s. Played with great commitment and feeling for the style by Antonio de Innocentis, who also signs for the guitar arrangements.
Beethoven: The Late Piano Sonatas / Igor Levit
Sony Masterworks
CD
$16.98
Nov 05, 2013
All of the positive attention and high praise that 26-year-old pianist Igor Levit has garnered in Europe is thoroughly justified by his Sony Classical debut release encompassing Beethoven’s last five sonatas. Levit’s affinity for the composer’s essentially linear style and intense expressivity borders on clairvoyance, if you’ll forgive the cliché. You notice this immediately in Op. 101’s first and third movements, where thoughtful voice leading and flexible lyricism mesh into a single entity. Impressive pianistic poise and thoughtful dynamic scaling give clarity and meaning to the Scherzo’s obsessive march rhythms and difficult register leaps as well as to the Fugue’s knotty textures.
Levit takes the “Hammerklavier” first-movement Allegro at a tempo close to the composer’s admittedly optimistic metronome marking, yet the music ebbs and flows with characterful assurance. The Scherzo also takes bracing wing; it features biting cross-rhythmic accents and a ferocious ascending F major scale from bottom to top. You might describe Levit’s masterful Adagio sostenuto as a fusion of Rudolf Serkin’s classical reserve and Claudio Arrau’s depth of tone and vocally oriented inflection. In the finale’s introductory Largo, Levit piles into the jazzy broken-chord accelerando with shattering abandon, and brings plenty of drama, dynamic contrast, and varied articulations to the fugue.
Following Op. 109’s eloquently shaped Vivace, Levit’s well sprung and sharply detailed second movement is one of the few on disc to make Beethoven’s detached and legato phrasings audible to the point where the music sounds faster than it actually is performed. Levit’s heartfelt, beautifully sung out, and assiduously unified third-movement variations easily measure up to the catalog’s finest versions. Op. 110 also stands out for Levit’s brilliant synthesis of personal poetry and scrupulous detail, while Op. 111 matches Mauruzio Pollini’s extraordinary exactitude (the first movement’s driving 16th-note sequences impeccably in place, the Arietta’s dotted rhythms’ spot-on accuracy and inner “swing”) with an extra hint of cantabile warmth. In short, this is Beethoven playing of the highest distinction, not to be missed.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
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This is a notable debut recording. Thanks to Igor Levit’s remarkably even touch and precise rhythmic control, the scores’ details, minutely realized, are fashioned into lucid, structurally sound interpretations. This isn’t a pianist trying to outdo others with speed, volume, or extreme interpretations, but a musician whose tasteful instincts produce Beethoven performances with purity of expression and a certain reserve.
Most striking is the gentle songfulness that Levit brings to lyrical movements, such as the brief Allegretto —an endless melody in four-part texture, singled out by more than a few people, Glenn Gould included, as their favorite movement in all of Beethoven’s sonatas—that opens the 28th Sonata, op. 101. In it, Levit succeeds at creating natural phrase divisions without breaking long lines, something that sounds easy when it’s done this well. (Anyone who has tried to play it knows how extremely difficult this is, and how disjointed the movement can sound.) The Sonata’s technically punishing second movement’s dotted rhythms and rests are perfectly executed at an unrushed tempo, and in the final movement, Levit’s comic timing and articulation rivals the very best versions of the Sonata, such as Richard Goode’s.
A generation ago, one often made allowances in performances of the “Hammerklavier,” except perhaps for Pollini, for broader than ideal tempos in the first movement to accommodate technical difficulties, or moments of stressful scrambling to get through the fugue. Judging by some recent recordings of the work—by the excellent Van Cliburn Competition medalist Sean Chen, Mari Kodama (see Jerry Dubins’s review in Fanfare 37:3), and now Igor Levit—there are clear signs that pianists’ technique in the 21st century has caught up with the Sonata’s demands. Levit’s Apollonian reading is more fluent and less heaven-storming than most. This is a young man’s “Hammerklavier,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if he were to infuse the first and third movements with more drama, through the taking of time, later in his life. He plays the first movement at 132 to the quarter in a tempo that sounds just right—Beethoven’s metronome marking, once considered impossible to realize, is 138— achieving a kind of ecstatic swing whose confident steadiness and occasional lightness doesn’t diminish the music’s profundity. The slow movement, taken exactly at Beethoven’s metronome marking of 92, is gentler than many performances, less grandly soul-searching, but serious and intimate.
In the last three sonatas, I find Levit even better than Paul Lewis, whose well-considered performances sound merely like good piano playing compared to the poised, unearthly effect—I’m thinking here of the final movements of Nos. 30 and 32, in particular—that Levit achieves with his finer technical control. The highlights here are, once again, the lyrical movements, though op. 109’s Presstissimo second movement goes like quicksilver, and op. 110’s Allegro molto is a suitably brusque interruption of the work’s otherwise exalted proceedings. In the final pages of op. 110—the triumphant return of a fugue that has been interrupted and turned around by a grief-stricken lament—I find Levit’s tempo too fast, its fluency too easily achieved. I prefer Mitsuko Uchida’s more measured realization of these tricky tempo relationships.
In the Maestoso introduction to the 32nd Sonata, op. 111, Levit’s strict dotted rhythms reveal the music’s kinship to a French overture and provide continuity, unlike Andrew Rangell’s, whose freer concept of the rhythm bogs the music down. Unlike Barenboim in his 1980s DG recording, Levit doesn’t make the slow Arietta a static dirge. His pacing allows the second movement’s sublime variations to unfold with great logic and inevitability. His interpretation of op. 111 is close to Richter’s (a 1975 performance) in its straightforward pacing, but Levit’s voicing doesn’t have Richter’s laser-like exaggeration of top lines. His right hand comes out as needed in all of these performances, but with an appealingly unforced sonority.
The Richter comparison came to mind as I watched Igor Levit on YouTube, not because the two pianists’ playing is particularly similar, but because of their shared Russian-German background, and Levit’s eclectic, rather austere repertoire choices. Both pianists’ quiet concentration conveys the sense that whatever they’re playing is of life-and-death importance, though the grim, aggressive aura that Richter sometimes projected isn’t part of Levit’s image. Levit’s videos of music by Hindemith, Reger, Beethoven (the Third Concerto), and the Bach-Brahms Chaconne arranged for left hand, show that the intensity and refinement of his Beethoven sonatas is no fluke.
Thanks are due to Sony for taking on a serious young pianist in repertoire of his choice, and providing him with sensitive engineering that showcases his full range of dynamics. There’s every indication that this recording introduces one of the 21st century’s important pianists.
FANFARE: Paul Orgel
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
Weber: Der Freischutz / Chung, Teatro alla Scala
Naxos AudioVisual
Blu-Ray
$34.99
Apr 12, 2019
This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.
Also available on standard DVD
Weber was at the forefront of the rise of German Romantic opera and sought to dethrone Rossini from his position as the leading operatic composer in Europe. In his breakthrough and most popular opera Der Freischütz (‘The Marksman’) composed in 1821, he succeeded in his aim of establishing a truly German form. Turning to the folklore and folk songs of his native land he took a story of a marksman who makes a pact with the Devil, vesting it with powerful intensity – not least in the famous Wolf’s Glen scene – and an astonishing control of orchestral color and atmosphere.
-----
REVIEW:
Goodness, but Der Freischütz is a problematic opera for today! You can’t ignore it because it’s instrumental in the development of German musical Romanticism; several scholars would even call it its progenitor. Schumann, Mendelssohn, Wagner and Strauss would have been unthinkable without it, and even Beethoven, who was no friend of Weber’s, was impressed. However, it poses an all but insoluble problem in staging it for modern audiences. Its setting is so grounded in the Romantic German Forest that any attempts to remove it from there or to update its setting invariably fall flat or seem reductive (or simply indulgent). However, staging it in its original setting risks seeming like a parody of blood-and-soil National Socialism. This dilemma means that, more often than not, it’s one of those works where you’re far better to retreat into the pictures of your own mind’s eye, and happily we have lots of good CD recordings to help us do that, most notably those from Keilberth, Kleiber, Harnoncourt and Davis.
This 2017 La Scala production is a game-changer, however, and it does the best job I’ve yet seen of putting the opera on stage in a way that is neither daft nor wilfully obstructive. Matthias Hartmann goes for a mixture of the specific and the abstract. There are plenty of trees to put us in the forest, but well-placed strips of lighting suggest the church, the hut and the mountainscape behind. The costumes are a quirky mix of national dresses – ranging from Scotland to the Balkans – but, more importantly, Hartmann also gets into the work’s dark psychological possibilities, wondering whether Max’s obsession with the magic bullets is a mirror for his wider insecurities. He doesn’t shun the supernatural, however: various devils appear to direct Kaspar’s actions, and occasionally we see demonic creatures that might have been lifted out of a painting by Hieronymus Bosch. Importantly, this eclecticism works. It poses many questions and gives every facet of the opera its due without getting trapped in any of them, and that alone makes this the opera’s most successful outing on film to date.
The musical performances are excellent too. Who would have thought that the La Scala orchestra would be so good at this cornerstone of the German repertoire? Their playing of the overture is one of the best you’ll hear, with dark, suggestive strings at the opening, a heart-stopping quartet of horns, and a crackling sense of drama in the main Allegro. Myung-Whun Chung is a natural with the whole score, too, shaping the unfolding drama with an unfailingly right sense of where it is going and how it is going to get there.
The singers are top-notch. Julia Kleiter is radiant, luxuriously beautiful in her two big arias without a hint of simpering, and Eva Liebau’s Ännchen is a delightfully light-hearted contrast. Both are fully comfortable in the tessitura and are a joy to listen to as well as to watch. Michael König has a tiny touch of abrasion in his Heldentenor voice, but I could forgive him for his heroic tone, and Stephen Milling does a wonderful deus ex machina as the Hermit. Best of all, though, is Günther Groissböck, whose Kaspar sets the stage alight, almost literally so in the Wolf’s Glen scene. He’s a powerhouse to watch, and he uses his big bass voice with agility and athleticism to bring the part to life.
I approached this with a good degree of scepticism, but I found it completely compelling and was totally won over. To my great surprise, it solves the problems of staging Der Freischütz for our time. With its compelling production and its brilliant musicianship, it is now a clear first choice for Der Freischütz on film, and it’s by some margin the best opera film I’ve seen in 2019 so far.
– MusicWeb International (Simon Thompson)
Also available on standard DVD
Weber was at the forefront of the rise of German Romantic opera and sought to dethrone Rossini from his position as the leading operatic composer in Europe. In his breakthrough and most popular opera Der Freischütz (‘The Marksman’) composed in 1821, he succeeded in his aim of establishing a truly German form. Turning to the folklore and folk songs of his native land he took a story of a marksman who makes a pact with the Devil, vesting it with powerful intensity – not least in the famous Wolf’s Glen scene – and an astonishing control of orchestral color and atmosphere.
-----
REVIEW:
Goodness, but Der Freischütz is a problematic opera for today! You can’t ignore it because it’s instrumental in the development of German musical Romanticism; several scholars would even call it its progenitor. Schumann, Mendelssohn, Wagner and Strauss would have been unthinkable without it, and even Beethoven, who was no friend of Weber’s, was impressed. However, it poses an all but insoluble problem in staging it for modern audiences. Its setting is so grounded in the Romantic German Forest that any attempts to remove it from there or to update its setting invariably fall flat or seem reductive (or simply indulgent). However, staging it in its original setting risks seeming like a parody of blood-and-soil National Socialism. This dilemma means that, more often than not, it’s one of those works where you’re far better to retreat into the pictures of your own mind’s eye, and happily we have lots of good CD recordings to help us do that, most notably those from Keilberth, Kleiber, Harnoncourt and Davis.
This 2017 La Scala production is a game-changer, however, and it does the best job I’ve yet seen of putting the opera on stage in a way that is neither daft nor wilfully obstructive. Matthias Hartmann goes for a mixture of the specific and the abstract. There are plenty of trees to put us in the forest, but well-placed strips of lighting suggest the church, the hut and the mountainscape behind. The costumes are a quirky mix of national dresses – ranging from Scotland to the Balkans – but, more importantly, Hartmann also gets into the work’s dark psychological possibilities, wondering whether Max’s obsession with the magic bullets is a mirror for his wider insecurities. He doesn’t shun the supernatural, however: various devils appear to direct Kaspar’s actions, and occasionally we see demonic creatures that might have been lifted out of a painting by Hieronymus Bosch. Importantly, this eclecticism works. It poses many questions and gives every facet of the opera its due without getting trapped in any of them, and that alone makes this the opera’s most successful outing on film to date.
The musical performances are excellent too. Who would have thought that the La Scala orchestra would be so good at this cornerstone of the German repertoire? Their playing of the overture is one of the best you’ll hear, with dark, suggestive strings at the opening, a heart-stopping quartet of horns, and a crackling sense of drama in the main Allegro. Myung-Whun Chung is a natural with the whole score, too, shaping the unfolding drama with an unfailingly right sense of where it is going and how it is going to get there.
The singers are top-notch. Julia Kleiter is radiant, luxuriously beautiful in her two big arias without a hint of simpering, and Eva Liebau’s Ännchen is a delightfully light-hearted contrast. Both are fully comfortable in the tessitura and are a joy to listen to as well as to watch. Michael König has a tiny touch of abrasion in his Heldentenor voice, but I could forgive him for his heroic tone, and Stephen Milling does a wonderful deus ex machina as the Hermit. Best of all, though, is Günther Groissböck, whose Kaspar sets the stage alight, almost literally so in the Wolf’s Glen scene. He’s a powerhouse to watch, and he uses his big bass voice with agility and athleticism to bring the part to life.
I approached this with a good degree of scepticism, but I found it completely compelling and was totally won over. To my great surprise, it solves the problems of staging Der Freischütz for our time. With its compelling production and its brilliant musicianship, it is now a clear first choice for Der Freischütz on film, and it’s by some margin the best opera film I’ve seen in 2019 so far.
– MusicWeb International (Simon Thompson)
Mendelssohn: String Symphony No. 10; Widmann: Ikarische Klag
Channel Classics
CD
$20.99
Nov 14, 2025
Conductor and composer Jorg Widmann leads the Stuttgarter Kammerochester in this album of masterpieces for string orchestra. The precocious Mendelssohn is represented with his String Symphony No.10 in B minor. It consists of a single movement, in which a sweeping slow introduction is followed by an allegro and coda. Widmann's own Ikarische Klage takes it's subject matter from a poem by Baudelaire: "Burnt by the love of beauty / I will not have the sublime honour / of giving my name to the abyss / that will serve as my grave". On Korngold's Symphonic Serenade, Widmann says "What a piece, full of glittering magic!". In this work we hear dreams of a real or imaginary Vienna in the time of Mahler or Berg: a vision that looks to the future, is heart-rending but never sentimental.
Delights & Dances - Works for Strings & Orchestra
Cedille
CD
$9.99
$19.99
Save 50%
May 28, 2013
Delights & Dances, the Chicago Sinfonietta’s first recording with its new music director, award-winning conductor Mei-Ann Chen, does what this singular ensemble does best: it captivates listeners of all ages and diverse ethnic backgrounds through irresistible music and superb musicianship. This release includes three world premiere recordings.
REVIEW:
This disc contains three enterprising works for string quartet and orchestra, an unusual but effective combination too seldom exploited, plus an entertaining encore, Saibei Dance by Chinese/Canadian composer An-Lun Huang. The most important piece on the disc is Benjamin Lees’ Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra, which was recorded by RCA in the middle of the last century by Igor Buketoff and the Royal Philharmonic, and issued in tandem with Roger Sessions’ Third Symphony. It has been long due for a new recording, and this one is outstanding. The work is pure neo-classicism, close in style to the Hindemith of the Kammermusik series, containing arresting but modern-sounding ideas presented in a crystal-clear formal context. The finale, for example, is a rondo whose recurring idea is a motoric theme for string quartet punctuated by irregular strokes on the drums (sound clip). It’s instantly identifiable in whatever form it returns, and it places the intervening episodes in high relief.
Michael Abels’ Delights and Dances, a single movement for string quartet and string orchestra, offers a more modern take on Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro for the same forces. Beginning moodily with solo strings, it gradually increases in energy through to the jazzy conclusion. Finally, Randall Craig Fleischer has arranged a selection from Bernstein’s West Side Story for string quartet and orchestra. I am not wholly convinced by his calling this suite of 10 movements a “concerto”, despite the addition of two “cadenzas” along the way. This is not, incidentally, an arrangement of the Symphonic Dances, since it includes numbers (“America”, “Quintet”, “Tonight”) that are not part of that work. Not surprisingly, the arrangements work best in the more lyrical episodes, many of which feature solo strings or solo voices anyway, but the fact is that the tunes are so memorable that they could be played on a ukelele and still sound wonderful (no offense to any ukelele players out there). Anyway, the piece certainly is fun as it stands.
The Harlem Quartet, dedicatees of Abels’ piece, play all of this music very beautifully indeed. They have a warm, well balanced corporate sonority, rock solid rhythm, and the ability to play hard without coarsening the tone unnecessarily. The Chicago Sinfonietta under Mei-Ann Chen is a virtuoso group that accompanies with impressive technique, and the sonics are typically excellent. This is a very, very fine disc.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
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.
The Flute at the Court of Frederick the Great / Jean-Pierre Rampal
CBS Masterworks
CD
$17.99
May 07, 2009
A marvelously vivid recording that matches the freshness and immediacy of the music.
The King's strength as a performer is said to have been in Adagios (though there is evidence enough that this did not betoken lack of finger dexterity), and his own piece on this pleasant record is well able to hold its own with many another wind concerto of the day. This may tell us something about what was then a genuine musical vernacular; but such arguments aside, one can take pleasure in observing the contrast, one at the same time separating and unifying, between Frederick and his two companion composers. Quantz's Concerto is a nice, brisk piece with no nonsense about it. Rampal, with his particular gift for eighteenth-century flute music, deals with it admirably, pointing its highlights, touching on its bright rhythms without affectation, gracefully outlining the slow movement's melody without overstating claims. However, Benda's work shows what the differences are between a gifted amateur, a gifted professional and a composer of real individuality all working within the same idiom. The opening Allegro con brio has real brio, with an undercurrent of tensions that are present in another way in the warm, heartfelt Adagio un poco Andante; the finale is a little more conventional, but makes a bright ending to a most attractive work. No wonder poor Fritz preferred this civilized and humane discourse to the military ravings of his tyrannical father.
The recording matches the freshness and immediacy of the music. Rampal is set close, but the sound is marvellously vivid, and the subtle range of his tonguings in particular is caught as an expressive part of the music. The accompaniments are doubtless influenced by Rampal's own long experience in music of this period: they are as crisp and intelligent as his own playing.
-- Gramophone [3/1987]
The King's strength as a performer is said to have been in Adagios (though there is evidence enough that this did not betoken lack of finger dexterity), and his own piece on this pleasant record is well able to hold its own with many another wind concerto of the day. This may tell us something about what was then a genuine musical vernacular; but such arguments aside, one can take pleasure in observing the contrast, one at the same time separating and unifying, between Frederick and his two companion composers. Quantz's Concerto is a nice, brisk piece with no nonsense about it. Rampal, with his particular gift for eighteenth-century flute music, deals with it admirably, pointing its highlights, touching on its bright rhythms without affectation, gracefully outlining the slow movement's melody without overstating claims. However, Benda's work shows what the differences are between a gifted amateur, a gifted professional and a composer of real individuality all working within the same idiom. The opening Allegro con brio has real brio, with an undercurrent of tensions that are present in another way in the warm, heartfelt Adagio un poco Andante; the finale is a little more conventional, but makes a bright ending to a most attractive work. No wonder poor Fritz preferred this civilized and humane discourse to the military ravings of his tyrannical father.
The recording matches the freshness and immediacy of the music. Rampal is set close, but the sound is marvellously vivid, and the subtle range of his tonguings in particular is caught as an expressive part of the music. The accompaniments are doubtless influenced by Rampal's own long experience in music of this period: they are as crisp and intelligent as his own playing.
-- Gramophone [3/1987]
Dohnányi: Violin Concertos No 1 & 2 / Ludwig, Falletta, Royal Scottish NO
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Apr 29, 2008
The opening theme of Ernö Dohnányi's Violin Concerto No. 1 (1915) sounds strikingly like something out of a Harry Potter film, creating the same kind of minor-key-mysterious atmosphere--that is until the solo violin enters with its agitated pronouncements. Often it sounds as if the violin were not at all pleased with this introductory mood and does its best to dispel it. But then the soothing second theme steals in, and the violin is at least temporarily calmed. Dohnányi's solo writing is stunning in its originality and virtuosity, yet violinist Michael Ludwig presents it with confidence, poise, and polish. The serene Andante ushers in a beguiling tranquil mood before the lively scherzo dances about. Dohnányi's theme and variations finale blatantly borrows from the same movement in Brahms' Symphony No. 1, but happily, Dohnányi's less pretentious finale is a lot more fun, even with the return of the first movement's darker theme.
Violin Concerto No. 2 was completed more than three decades later in 1949, and right away the change in the composer's harmonic language shows in the dissonant opening violin cadenza. But far from being atonal or modernist, Dohnányi's work continues the tradition of consonant tonality, albeit a little stretched at the edges. This gives the music great expressive range, and the first movement surges with drama and emotion. As with the First concerto, this one also is in four movements, though they fit within the usual concerto duration (about 30 minutes--10 minutes shorter than No. 1). A charming intermezzo comes second, followed by a lovely and lyrical Adagio. The buoyant allegro finale brings the work to a happy conclusion. Again the violin writing is superb (wonderfully rendered by Ludwig), as is the accompaniment, fleshed out in the composer's robust and colorful orchestration, and beautifully performed by JoAnn Falletta and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Naxos' spacious recording has satisfying bloom, presence, and wide dynamic range. These are excellent pieces that ought to be in the modern performance repertory. If you don't know these works, you owe to yourself to hear this disc.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com
