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Berio: Sinfonia, Concerto for Two Pianos / Swingle Singers, New York Philharmonic
Sony Masterworks · May 2013CD$17.99 -
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SaleDi Vittorio: Sinfonias No 1 "isolation" And No 2 "lost Innocence" / Chamber Orchestra Of New York
Naxos · Jul 2011CD$19.99$13.99 -
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Stöhr: Orchestral Music vol. 1, for String Orchestra / Kopacka, Hobson, Sinfonia Varsovia
Toccata · May 2022CD$20.99 -
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Mercadante: Flute Concertos Nos. 1, 2 And 4 / Gallois, Sinfonia Finlandia Jyvaskyla
Naxos · Dec 2013CD$19.99 -
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Casella: Symphony No 1, Concerto For Strings, Piano, Timpani & Percussion / La Vecchia
Naxos · Jun 2010CD$19.99
Rachmaninoff: Symphony No. 1; Symphonic Dances
Johann Philipp Kirnberger: Sinfonias - World Premiere Record
Berio: Sinfonia, Concerto for Two Pianos / Swingle Singers, New York Philharmonic
"[Sinfonia] is a wild, four-movement work and shows the new direction music is taking. Gone are the strict constructions and parameters of serialism. Instead there is a concentration on pure sound... With the Swingle Singers grouped around microphones, breaking the language (French and English, mostly) into bits of sound components, and with the orchestra often blasting away with fortissimo chords that contained all 12 notes of the scale, there was not a dull moment anywhere... It is one of the musics of the future." -- Harold C. Schonberg, The New York Times
"...the Swingle Singers perform this music as if their lives depended on it. Sinfonia becomes a piece of musical theater on that recording..." -- Raymond Tuttle, www.classical.net
Prima Voce - Zinka Milanov In Recital - Schumann, Brahms, Etc
If you’ve been following the Nimbus Milanov releases you’ll know that their earlier foray into her recorded legacy was a Milanov sings Verdi disc (see review). There, in all her opulent and passionate splendour, she proved herself a legendary heroine, a Verdian of unimpeachable, sometimes torrential expressive qualities. But it was the more thoughtful and delicately deployed moments in her singing that also linger in the mind – her absolute control of pianissimi, the sheer refinement of much of what she did. And that leads one to this latest Milanov disc of aria antiche, lieder, and national folk songs.
The recital starts with that old standby Caro mio ben. Note that the portamenti – always a feature of her art - are relatively discreet, the voice not over-scaled, the chest voice lightly deployed. It’s an imaginative, intelligent performance and contrasts quite firmly with that of many of her contemporaries in this repertoire. Schumann’s Widmung has the requisite urgency of utterance; her German is as ever excellent. Mondnacht is also well judged and she doesn’t do too much with it. The brace of Brahms songs is similarly accomplished, the lulling Wiegenlied especially. But it’s the Strauss songs that show her affinities best I think. Her vibrant sense of identification can be gauged best from Caecilie where the technical control is at its most impressive, though Zueignung is powerful in its own right.
The Yugoslav songs offer another avenue into appreciating Milanov. Some were composed by her brother, her accompanist for the bulk of these tracks, Bozidar Kunc. All are pleasurable. Bersa’s She Duš Dan has an unforced gravity and a near operatic intensity. And Kunc’s ?ežnja is full of urgent, almost florid romanticism, well suited to Milanov’s voice and sense of declamatory power. She brings affectionate refinement, scaled dynamics to The World is Empty. The Songs of Yugoslavia, songs arranged by Dr. Lujo Goranin, are accompanied by an anonymous pianist and violinist; the set was recorded in 1943 whereas everything else derives from sessions in 1955. Milanov’s portamento style is heard to good effect in these six songs. The Magyar influence is strong, tinged with Old Vienna in Gor ?ez jezero – beautifully controlled diminuendi from Milanov here – though elsewhere things are stylistically generic. In the main, though, romantic allure wins the day especially when performed so alluringly as here. There’s nothing in these songs as touching, or important, as the Czechoslovak songs Jarmila Novotna sang at around this time but that doesn’t lessen the impact of Milanov’s singing of them.
There’s residual hiss on the Yugoslav songs, as one would expect. Transfers are fine, the notes too and up to the expected standard.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
MOZART: SINFONIA CONCERTANTE K. 364 VIOLIN CONS 1
Mozart: Don Giovanni / Solti, Royal Philharmonic
Solti conducted Don Giovanni in nine performances during the 1954 Glyndebourne season : on July 7, 9, 11, 14, 17, 21, 23, 25, 27. These performances of Don Giovanni were Georg Solti’s only Glyndebourne appearances. This complete performance was broadcast live from the opera house on 17 July 1954. The source recording is part of the ‘Itter Broadcast Collection’ held by Lyrita Recorded Edition Trust. This is the first release on Prima Voce for more than five years and we hope that it will once again stimulate interest in this critically acclaimed series. A new printed catalogue for Prima Voce is also available and our next release will be Berlioz, ‘The Damnation of Faust’ in a live performance from the Royal Festival Hall, with Joan Hammond conducted by Sir Malcolm Sargent in 1953.
Italiana!
Di Vittorio: Sinfonias No 1 "isolation" And No 2 "lost Innocence" / Chamber Orchestra Of New York
DI VITTORIO Overtura Respighiana 1. Symphony No. 2, “Lost Innocence 1.” Ave Maria 2. Symphony No. 1, “Isolation 1.” Clarinet Sonata No. 1 3 • 1,2 Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; 2 Respighi Choir; 3 Benjamin Baron (cl); 1 New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572333 (56:52)
RESPIGHI Aria for Strings. Violin Concerto in A. Suite for Strings. Rossiniana: Suite • Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; Laura Marzadori (vn); New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572332 (77:32)
If Palermo-born Salvatore Di Vittorio (b.1967) is new to you (as he is to me), based on these two Naxos releases you might be justified in thinking he’s a third-generation relation to Italian composer Ottorino Respighi. That’s because as a conductor, Di Vittorio leads an ensemble he founded and named “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York in a program of works by Respighi. As an arranger, he revised and/or completed three of the works heard on the second of these two discs. And as a composer, Di Vittorio has been hailed as a “lyrical romantic … following in the footsteps of Respighi.” Though a reading of Di Vittorio’s biography on his website (salvatoredivittorio.com/bio.html) discloses no direct link to the former composer, it appears that Respighi is near and dear to Di Vittorio’s heart.
In a sense, you might say that in at least one of his compositions, Overtura Respighiana , Di Vittorio has channeled Respighi to write music that the real Respighi might have written himself, for the piece is a devilishly delightful concoction that plays on Respighi’s Rossiniana and Pines of Rome , fusing them with references to Di Vittorio’s own music, to create a kind of freshly minted Boutique fantasque.
The Symphony No. 2, titled “Lost Innocence,” on the other hand, does not, as far as I can tell, quote anything by Respighi, but the brilliant swatches of instrumental color Di Vittorio weaves into and through this striking musical tapestry is reminiscent of Respighi’s way with the orchestral palette. Di Vittorio tells us that the work was inspired by the tragedy of the Yugoslav civil wars in the late 1990s. Its four movements—“Requiem for a Child,” “Dance of Tears,” “Childheart,” and “Elegy: Marcia Funebre”—at least up until the finale, reflect a calm that is neither quiet nor peaceful, but one that builds toward a shattering, tragic ending.
The Ave Maria for a cappella women’s chorus is one of Di Vittorio’s conservatory works, written in 1995 (revised in 1998) after graduating from the Manhattan School of Music. At first it struck my ear as fairly dissonant, sounding almost like it could have been written by Penderecki, Lutos?awski, or Vasks, but as the piece unfolded, emerging from the harmonic counterpoint were passages that, with just a few minor adjustments to the voice-leading, sounded as if they might have come from a cappella moments in Verdi’s Requiem. Di Vittorio confirms that impression in his booklet note, stating that a number of influences run through the piece, from Palestrina and Monteverdi to Verdi, and that “in particular, certain resemblances may be traced to Verdi’s choral Ave Maria .” The effects of Di Vittorio’s piece are quite arresting, simultaneously stark and austere yet illuminated from within by a shimmering light that leads to a most meltingly beautiful cadential Amen.
The Symphony No. 1, titled “Isolation,” dates to one year before the Ave Maria but was revised in 1999. No borrowings from Respighi appear in this score either, yet his spirit hovers over it in the luminous divided string writing and exquisite chiaroscuro effects. This is a strings-only work, and according to Di Vittorio one of its influences was Vivaldi’s seldom-performed Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro , RV 169, one of Vivaldi’s most harmonically tortured works, written in a highly chromatic idiom intended to represent Christ’s pain and suffering. For Di Vittorio, the “Isolation” Symphony is meant to depict man’s alienation from himself and his fellow man. If you were to listen to the piece without knowing that, I’m not sure you would necessarily pick up specifically on that theme. The music is sad, to be sure, even brooding, but more than once it put me in mind of Barber’s Adagio for Strings , a piece that is somehow uplifting in its tragedy.
The Di Vittorio-as-composer CD closes with another work revised in 1998, the Clarinet Sonata No. 1. Not reflected in its title is the fact that it’s a piece for unaccompanied clarinet, which is a bit of a challenge for both composer and performer, considering that a solo wind instrument, unlike a violin or cello, can’t make its own harmony by playing double-stops or chords. But I suppose if Bach and Debussy could write for unaccompanied flute, there’s no reason the solo capabilities of other wind instruments shouldn’t be explored. Di Vittorio notes that he drew inspiration and advice for the work from his father, Giuseppe, who was a clarinetist. Di Vittorio claims to have been influenced by Verdi, Brahms, Berlioz, and elements of French Baroque dance, though these elements are not easily discerned due to the nature of the music’s syntax and style, which consists largely of loosely connected contrasting phrases that never quite seem to coalesce into an identifiable whole. Nonetheless, Benjamin Baron’s very accomplished clarinet playing invites further listening and offers a promise that there is more to this piece than meets the ear on first hearing.
Critics can be a cruel lot—I know because I’m one of them—and there are those who will say, and already have, that music like this being written today is irrelevant. That’s a strong sentiment, for sure, but nowhere near as judgmental as someone like Pierre Boulez would be. He is quoted as having said that composers who write music like this simply don’t exist, prompting an acquaintance of mine to describe Boulez as “the Dr. Mengele of France.” With one wave of his hand, off you go to the gas chamber. My attitude, as expressed on a number of past occasions, is that beautiful music is beautiful music, regardless of when it’s written, and Di Vittorio proves himself with this CD to be a composer of beautiful music extraordinaire. I strongly recommend this release to you for many hours of listening pleasure.
The second of the two entries consists entirely of music by Respighi, though Di Vittorio has had a hand in the realization of three of the four of the works as heard on the disc. I’m not sure just how seriously Respighi was ever taken by critics and the academic elite, but thanks to a small number of works—primarily his Roman trilogy, the Ancient Airs and Dances suites, and La Boutique fantasque —he came to enjoy considerable exposure and popularity, especially in the U.S. Toscanini premiered the third number of the Roman trilogy, Feste Romane , with the New York Philharmonic in 1929, and then went on to record the piece for RCA twice, once in 1942 with the Philadelphia Orchestra and a second time with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1949, adding the Fountains of Rome in 1951 and the Pines of Rome in 1953. Toscanini wasn’t the only one to climb aboard the Respighi bandwagon. Mengelberg premiered the composer’s Toccata for Piano and Orchestra with the New York Philharmonic in 1928, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra commissioned Respighi’s Metamorphoseon for its 50th anniversary in 1931.
Yet of Respighi’s nearly 200 scores—among which are nine operas, five ballets, several concertos, quite a few chamber works, and a considerable volume of vocal and choral numbers—a good deal of it is unrecorded and rarely, if ever, performed. The reasons seem to be twofold. First, the critics and opinion-makers, while acknowledging the composer’s gift for colorful orchestration and pictorial illusionism, regarded the music as “derivative,” “cinematic,” and even “vulgar,” by which I prefer to think they meant lacking in substance and depth rather than tawdry and tasteless. The truth of the matter is that there is nothing any more cinematic or “vulgar,” if you choose to use that word, about Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome , written in 1916, than there is about Bloch’s Schelomo written a year earlier. But the second, and perhaps more serious, criticism Respighi faced—though it was largely unjustified—was that he was a supporter of Mussolini’s fascist regime. Evidence seems to suggest that Respighi didn’t have a political bone in his body, but it may have been his very passivity and silence that were damning.
The 24-year-old Respighi began work on a violin concerto in 1903. Only the first two movements were completed; the third remained in a piano reduction with just a few measures orchestrated. After analyzing the score, Di Vittorio made enhancements to the orchestration of the first two movements and completed the third using material from the other movements. Di Vittorio’s completion was premiered in New York in 2010. I note a 1994 recording of the concerto on a Bongiovani CD, but it is only of Respighi’s original first two movements. The current performances of both the concerto and the Aria for Strings, transcribed by Di Vittorio, are world premiere recordings. The concerto, which owes much to Vivaldi and early Mendelssohn, inhabits a world of lyrical sunshine that plays on the senses like a fresh breeze bearing scents of an Italian vineyard in spring. Thanks to the efforts of Di Vittorio, and the capable hands and sensitive voice of violinist Laura Marzadori, this romantically expressive score is brought to us complete for the first time.
The even earlier 1901 Aria, Respighi’s salute to his Italian heritage by way of Frescobaldi, Corelli, and, again, Vivaldi, found its way into the composer’s Suite in G Major for Strings and Organ. Di Vittorio makes of it a lovely air for string orchestra. Both the Aria and the Suite were revised or edited to prepare the very first printed editions (score and parts) of each score. Up until now, only manuscript copies of the score and parts existed for both works. Beyond this, Di Vittorio then made slight adjustments to the Aria to make it suitable for not only string orchestra but string quintet, in order to promote Respighi’s music in academic settings, such as conservatories and music colleges.
The booklet does not explain to what extent Di Vittorio “revised” Respighi’s Suite for Strings, cataloged as P 41. The piece is a six-movement suite in Baroque style that anticipates Respighi’s later and very popular Ancient Airs and Dances.
Six years after Respighi visited Rossini’s collection of piano pieces titled Les Riens (“Trifles,” aka “Sins of my Old Age”) for his ballet La Boutique fantasque in 1919, he returned to mine the mother lode again in 1925 for his Rossiniana Suite. It is given here in unaltered form and in a delightful performance by Di Vittorio’s “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York. As one of Respighi’s more popular works, there is of course serious competition in the suite, not least among which is a classic 1967 recording with Ansermet (one of his last) and the Suisse Romande Orchestra.
The current Naxos release, in addition to excellent performances and recording, offers to the Respighi fan a combination of never-before-heard music and works in never-before-heard transcriptions by Salvatore Di Vittorio. Strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Prokofiev
Gounod: Symphonies No 1 & 2 / Gallois, Sinfonia Finlandia
GOUNOD Symphonies: No. 1 in D. No. 2 in E? • Patrick Gallois, cond; Sinf Finlandia • NAXOS 8.557463 (68:14)
Charles Gounod (1818–1893), internationally famous for his grand opera Faust, composed both these symphonies in 1855. By that time, he was an accomplished and well-traveled musician, but not famous, and the symphonies went unperformed and, before the LP era, unrecorded. All the critics I read are unanimous that this is a shame. Though not among the towering masterpieces of the genre, both are perfect within their modest intentions. Among words and terms that fairly describe them are cheerful, polished, attractively scored, deftly organized, melodious, and economical. Now that they are available, listeners seem to like the First (here 29 minutes long) a bit better than the Second (almost 40 minutes), if they show any preference at all.
Gounod’s Symphony No. 1 is most often discussed as the model for the Symphony in C of his 17-year-old student, Georges Bizet. The two works are similar in length, mood, orchestration, and faithfulness to classical models. Furthermore, both remained unknown until modern times. But Gounod as a symphonist sounds like a French Mendelssohn, whereas his student, subsequently world-famous for Carmen, already sounds like himself. However, if the student’s essay deserves greater fame than its model, that is no reason for neglecting the fine work of the older composer.
Conductor and flautist Patrick Gallois recorded these symphonies with the Sinfonia Finlandia of Jyväskylä in May 2004. The performances are alert, disciplined, expressive, and beautifully recorded, making a highly recommendable disc. The leading current competitor is a widely praised Philips disc with Neville Marriner conducting the ASMF Orchestra. That costs more than this Naxos release, but has the bonus of including the ballet music from Faust. One assumes that Marriner either plays the symphonies faster, or skips repeats—possibly both. Finally, one should mention an ASV disc of the Gounod symphonies featuring John Lubbock and the Orchestra of St. John’s, which has its partisans.
FANFARE: Robert McColley
Stöhr: Orchestral Music vol. 1, for String Orchestra / Kopacka, Hobson, Sinfonia Varsovia
Three Sinfoniettas / Slobodeniouk, Lahti Symphony
The term sinfonietta is generally used to describe a work that is smaller in scale or lighter in approach than a standard symphony. It only came into common usage during the first half of the 20th century, which is when the three works included on this disc were in fact composed. Worth noting is also that Sergei Prokofiev and Benjamin Britten wrote their respective sinfoniettas while they were still in their teens – early attempts at multi-movement works for ensemble. Prokofiev revised his Sinfonietta twice, with the 1929 version recorded here, and went on to become one of the great symphonists of his time. Britten chose a different path, with operas forming the most important part of his legacy. Perhaps symptomatically, his Sinfonietta – his Op. 1 – was initially composed for wind quintet and string quintet, a scoring which he later expanded into the version heard on the present recording. Like Britten, Francis Poulenc was not naturally inclined towards large-scale orchestral works, and his Sinfonietta is indeed his only symphonic piece. The most recent of the works on the disc, it is in a neo-classical vein with sparkling dance rhythms as well as lyrical moments. The three works are here performed by the Lahti Symphony Orchestra conducted by Dima Slobodeniouk, a team which has released several highly acclaimed albums on BIS.
REVIEWS:
Poulenc's Sinfonietta would be the composer's only work in the symphony genre, borrowing, sometimes more obviously than not, from the neo-classical stylings of Stravinsky and nearly quoting Mozart. Poulenc mostly stayed away from larger forms, finding success with his songs, chamber music, and religious works, but this Sinfonietta displays the composer's charm and gift with melodic phrasing.
The Sinfonietta, Op. 5, by Prokofiev (heard here in its final revision from 1929, which the composer assigned as his Op. 48) is a youthful work, even in its revised form. A light and airy neo-classical work that, along with his Classical Symphony, can trace to the mature Prokofiev symphonic writing.
While the sinfoniettas of Poulenc and Prokofiev are light and airy works, the Sinfonietta, Op. 1, by Britten has a more mature sound, even though he was only 18 when it was written. The harmonic structure of the work is influenced by the Second Viennese School through his teacher and dedicatee of the work, Frank Bridge. Originally written for wind quintet and string quintet, Britten later revised it for chamber orchestra, which is what is presented here.
A thoroughly enjoyable hour of lighter music that will be nearly unknown to many listeners but should be accessible to a wide audience. BIS' engineers make good use of the Lahti Symphony's magnificent Sibelius Hall home.
-- AllMusic.com (Keith Finke)
All in all this is a splendid release, very enjoyable from beginning to end, offering 3 wonderful pieces not often encountered. It is expertly played, conducted and recorded. Very highly recommended.
-- Classical CD Review
Cimarosa: Overtures / Amoretti, Nicolaus Esterházy Sinfonia
Domenico Cimarosa is regarded as one of the foremost Italian opera composers during the second part of the 18th century. He vied with Salieri and Paisiello, the latter said to have been intriguing against Cimarosa, just as there is said to have been animosity between Mozart and Salieri. Cimarosa grew up near Naples, where his family later moved. There he was able to get a good education, not only in music. When he was 23 he got his first commission to write an opera, a buffa entitled Le stravaganze del conte, the overture to which is on this disc. It was a success, as was his next essay in the genre. Soon he was sought after throughout Italy. In the mid-1780s he moved to Florence and in 1787 received an invitation from Empress Catherine II of Russia to come to St Petersburg, where he stayed four years. In 1792 he moved to Vienna on an invitation from Emperor Leopold II and there produced his masterpiece, Il matrimonio segreto, which is regarded as one of the best buffa operas ever. Today his reputation rests practically only on this work, which is still performed. It is also famous in the history books for being so appreciated by the Emperor that the company had to reprise the whole work the same evening. This disc presents the overture in a world premiere recording of the Vienna version which is longer than the established version.
Cimarosa later returned to Naples, where he was politically active in the liberal party and was condemned to death. Through influential friends this sentence was commuted to banishment. He planned to go back to St Petersburg but his health deteriorated quickly and he died in Venice in 1801.
His list of works is impressive and only his operas, most of them in the buffa genre, come to close to one hundred. Even though most of them are forgotten today there are occasional revivals. I was lucky enough to catch a performance of Il mereato di Malmantile in Dubrovnik more than thirty years ago. There I also heard and saw the short intermezzo giocoso Il maestro di cappella for bass-baritone and orchestra, hilariously sung and acted by the great Sesto Bruscantini.
Cimarosa’s music is light and melodic, very often with a joyous atmosphere. He was a skilled orchestrator, even though he lacked the individuality and the psychological insight of Mozart. On the surface the two are rather similar and Mozart lovers should find Cimarosa to their liking.
The twelve overtures on this disc – and there is obviously more to come since this one is marked ‘vol. 1’ – are mainly lively and energetic and make a good evening’s listen. It is not wall-paper music, since there are always attractive things to keep the listener alert. It can be an unexpected turn of a phrase here or a sudden general pause. It is no wonder, to judge from the overture, that his debut opera Le stravaganze del conte, became a success, since it is truly infectious, fizzing along at rollicking speed. The Matrimonio segreto overture starts surprisingly solemn for a buffa with the first chords sounding almost like Die Zauberflöte, but then Cimarosa lets his hair down in his accustomed manner. This Vienna version differs in several ways from what we normally hear: among other things there is an oboe solo as the second theme which was omitted later. For a good recording of that version – and a superb reading of the complete opera – I strongly recommend Barenboim’s recording on DG (review).
For Il ritorno di Don Calendrino Cimarosa composed an extra long overture, partly through recycling the overture from L’Armida imaginara and adding two new movements, a beautiful Andantino and a spirited concluding Allegro.
There is enough variation in the music to allow the disc to spin until the end without the need for a pause – partly of course since it spans a period of twenty years, during which the composer undoubtedly developed. High-spirited most of it is but he also writes a slow mid-section in the Il convito overture, where there is a fine French horn solo.
Alessandro Amoretti is well versed in the music of this period and Esterházy Sinfonia is a splendid modern instrument ensemble. The producer/engineer couple Ibolya Tóth and János Bohus have also done a good job with the sonics.
Since there is probably little chance to hear these overtures live and since other recordings are in short supply this is a golden opportunity to make the acquaintance of some of the most spirited music of the late 18th century.
-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International
Mercadante: Flute Concertos Nos. 1, 2 And 4 / Gallois, Sinfonia Finlandia Jyvaskyla
MERCADANTE Flute Concertos: No. 2 in e, op. 57; No. 4 in G; No. 1 in E, op. 49 • Patrick Gallois (fl, cond); Snf Finlandia Jyväskylä • NAXOS 8.572731 (57:34)
Saverio Mercadante’s flute concertos are apparently more popular than I’d have thought—the one in E Minor especially—for not a few recordings of them have been previously reviewed in these pages. How memorable are they? Well, for me, they must not have made any lasting impression at all, for it wasn’t until I checked the Fanfare Archive that I realized I had reviewed a two-disc set of the composer’s flute concertos on Dynamic, performed by flutist Mario Carbotta. What’s interesting, though, is that in only three instances, going back to the early 1990s, have these works been taken up by players with names familiar enough to be recognized by general listeners outside of flute circles: James Galway, Jean-Pierre Rampal, and Peter-Lukas Graf. This new release on Naxos thus appears to be the first in two decades to feature an internationally renowned flutist with a name readers are sure to know, Patrick Gallois.
Giuseppe Saverio Raffaele Mercadante (1795–1870) was primarily a composer of operas. No surprise there; if you were a composer in 19th-century Italy, that’s what you did for a living, and Mercadante must have lived well, for his output of operas was prodigious—at least 60 that we know of. He was also long-lived enough to have witnessed the comings and goings of Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti, and to have been around for a good portion of Verdi’s life. While in Paris at Rossini’s invitation in 1836, Mercadante attended performances of operas by Meyerbeer and Halévy, and is said to have been strongly influenced by the French emphasis on grand, dramatic spectacle. After spending some time in Vienna, Spain, and Portugal, Mercadante returned to Italy, settled in for the long haul, and set to work.
Unlike most of his opera-composing Italian contemporaries, Mercadante seems to have had more than just a passing interest in instrumental music. His flute concertos and chamber works that include a flute can be explained by his majoring in the instrument as a student at the Naples Conservatory, but orchestration became a lifelong passion for him. He took special pains with the instrumental scoring in his operas, and during the last 30 years of his life, while director of the Conservatory at which he’d been a student, Mercandante composed a goodly number of non-operatic works. During his last seven years, from approximately 1863 on, he became nearly totally blind.
Sometimes it’s harder than other times to intuit why one composer’s works survive while another’s lose their appeal. Certainly, in his day, Mercadante rivaled Rossini and Donizetti in the field of opera. But for the very first time ever in these pages, I reviewed an opera in 36:6, and that opera happened to be Mercadante’s Don Chisciotte alle nozze di Gamaccio , categorized as a melodramma giocoso . I didn’t come away from it with a very positive opinion, describing the piece as “an Italian singspiel , and not a very good one, with nary a single memorable tune in this over an hour-and-a-half-long jocularity fit for whistling while you work.” I’m sure it’s not fair to judge Mercadante by this one opus, especially since it may not be representative of his operatic output as a whole, but in a 14: 4 review of Mercadante’s Il reggente , David Johnson wrote: “He was a composer of great gifts, but they were not great enough to survive direct comparisons with the triumvirate of Rossini, Donizetti, and Verdi, whose styles are all reflected in his operas. And he had the unlucky fate of choosing subjects that other composers had or were about to treat more memorably.”
To the extent that Mercadante is remembered today it’s mainly for his seven or so flute concertos, which, in their musical style and virtuoso demands on the soloist, are strongly reminiscent of Paganini’s violin concertos. If the flute could only play double-stops and chords and had the range of a violin, you could almost substitute one for the other. Each begins with an imposing introductory exposition that prepares for the grand entrance of the prima donna. Only in this case, she turns out to be a slip of a thing, a mere mouse, compared to the lioness the orchestral set-up has led us to expect. No disrespect intended towards Patrick Gallois and his brilliant fluting, but there’s something almost comical when the soloist enters twittering and tweeting away after such grandiloquent promises of things to come. It reminds me of the LOL jew’s harp concertos by Albrechtsberger.
Anyway, if you’re a flute fancier, you are guaranteed to find Mercadante’s concertos scintillating entertainment, and Gallois’s performance of them will take your breath away. It’s a miracle they don’t take his breath away, as he twirls and twizzles his way through a seemingly endless triathlon of rapid runs, arpeggios, and register leaps without ever once missing a beat or showing the least sign of strain. This is flute playing on an epic scale, and it’s matched in kind by the 38-member-strong Sinfonia Finlandia Jyväskylä, amazingly well-led by Gallois as he’s playing.
Truth be told, the flute is not high on my list of favorite instruments, but if even I can appreciate the works on this disc and marvel at the execution, think how much you’ll love it if you actually like the flute. A two-thumbs-up recommendation.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Bruckner: Symphonies Nos. 0 & 1 / Venzago, Tapiola Sinfonietta
“Venzago amazes us with his idiosyncratic and wholly novel performances of Bruckner. The sound of his Bruckner is thrillingly lean...His intelligent conducting focuses our attention on the chamber-music aspect of Bruckner's music.” –Pizzicato. In this Vol.2, Venzago devotes himself to the beginnings of Bruckner's symphonic output, the so-called “No. 0” and the 1st.
Casella: Symphony No 1, Concerto For Strings, Piano, Timpani & Percussion / La Vecchia
At first glance, Casella’s enrolment at the Paris Conservatoire - Gabriel Fauré was one of his teachers - and his admiration for Debussy might suggest strong links with French music of the period. However, the First Symphony, which dates from 1905, doesn’t strike me as particularly Gallic, either in sensibility or sound world; indeed, Casella is quoted in the liner-notes, where he dismisses the work as a potpourri of Borodin, Brahms and Enescu. These influences may be there, but they aren’t striking. Perhaps it’s the Italian band and conductor who are to blame, as they add a touch of southern warmth to this absorbing score.
True, the brooding start to the Lento seems Russianate, but then there’s an arresting lyricism in the strings and an orchestral blush that speaks more of Richard Strauss. As for the Roman orchestra they sound full-bodied and precise, climaxes expanding with plenty of weight and impact. Musically the score may seem a tad threadbare at times, but it’s well shaped and convincingly paced. Initial impressions suggest this is not the youthful indiscretion it first seems; in fact, the Adagio - reprised in the Second Symphony - is rather lovely. After a quiet, rather unsettling theme at the outset there are some melting string tunes - just listen to the passage that begins at 3:44. It really is luminous, heart-stopping music, most eloquently phrased.
The final movement, like the first, is a dark-toned Lento, the grumble of percussion at the start thrillingly caught. And, for the first time, there’s a real sense of nobility, a Wagnerian amplitude if you like, the muted brass simply splendid. Moreover, there’s a momentum here - listen out for that recurring, jaunty little tune - and a firm sense of purpose, which ensures that any structural weaknesses are artfully concealed. Such advocacy augurs well for the rest of this series; indeed, having heard both Noseda and La Vecchia’s accounts of the Second Symphony I can assure you the latter yields little or nothing to the former in terms of execution although, as expected, the Chandos sound is both weightier and more spacious.
The concerto is a wartime work, written while the composer was recovering from a serious illness. The soft edges of the symphony are replaced here by a harder, more muscular idiom, which includes strong, uncompromising rhythms. There’s plenty of bite to the strings, ever-present timps commendably crisp and clear, the Sarabande more lyrical - and inward - than one might expect. The piano part is carefully woven into the musical fabric, which only shows signs of fraying in the latter half of this movement. The brisk, martial opening to the final Allegro - snare drums very much in evidence - takes us back to the sinewy world of the first. It’s well played and tightly argued, the muted march coloured by the gentlest of taps on the tam-tam.
So, a most encouraging start to this new cycle which, along with Noseda’s, will surely bring this music back into the mainstream, where it belongs. It seems entirely right that La Vecchia and his Roman band are leading the charge; goodness knows, they play this music with verve and vision - and that’s just what it needs
Nice one, Naxos.
-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International
Prima Voce - Boris Christoff
CD 1 [70:19] Italian Opera
Wolfgang Amadeus MOZART (1756 – 1791)
Don Giovanni
1. Madamina! Il catalogo e questo [5:35]
Antonio CALDARA (1670 – 1736)
2. Come raggio di sol [3:12]
Vincenzo BELLINI (1801 – 1835)
Norma
3. Ite sul colle [10:13]
La sonnambula
4. Il mulino! Il fonte! … Vi ravviso [5:00]
Giuseppe VERDI (1813 – 1901)
Nabucco
5. Sperate, o figli! … D’Egitto la sui lidi [4:58]
6. Oh chi piange? … Del futuro nel bujo discerno [4:47]
La forza del destino
7. Il santo nome di Dio [6:54]
Simon Boccanegra
8. A te l’estremo addio … Il lacerate spirito [5:53]
Ernani
9. Che mai veggio! … Infelice … L’offeso onor [6:50]
Don Carlo
10. Ella giammai m’amo … Dormiro sol [9:14]
Arrigo BOITO (1847 – 1918)
Mefistofele
11. Ave Signor! [3:55]
12. Son lo spirito che nega [3:48]
CD 2 [71:56]
Russian Opera
Modest MUSSORGSKY (1839 – 1881)
Boris Godunov
1. Prologue: Coronation Scene [10:53]
2. Act 1. Pimen’s monologue [5:52]
3. Act 1. Varlaam’s song [2:33]
4. Act 2. Boris’s monologue [6:05]
5. Act 2. Clock scene [3:58]
6. Act 4. Farewell and Death of Boris [11:46]
Khovanshchina
7. Dosifey’s aria [6:22]
Nikolai RIMSKY-KORSAKOV (1844 – 1908)
Sadko
8. Song of the Viking Merchant [3:46]
The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh
9. O vain illusion [4:27]
Pyotr TCHAIKOVSKY (1840 – 1893)
Eugene Onegin
10. Everyone knows love on earth [4:55]
Alexander BORODIN (1833 – 1887)
Prince Igor
11. Prince Galitsky’s aria [3:52]
12. Konchak’s aria [7:23]
CD 3 [72:25]
Russian Songs and Sacred Music
Alexander SEROV (1820 – 1871)
1. Shrove Tuesday [4:39]
Traditional Songs
2. Song of the lumberjacks [5:00]
3. The Bandore [3:29]
4. Down Peterskaya Street [2:13]
5. Going down the Volga [3:40]
6. The lonely autumn night [5:22]
7. Psalm 137. By the waters of Babylon [5:25]
Mikhail STROKINE (1832 – 1887)
8. Prayer to St. Simeon [2:36]
Pavel CHESNOKOV (1877 – 1944)
9. Lord have mercy on our people [4:00]
Trad.
10. The song of the twelve robbers [5:56]
Alexander GRECHANINOV (1864 – 1956)
11. Litany [6:02]
Trad.
12. Siberian prisoner’s song [4:17]
Modest MUSSORGSKY
Songs and Dances of Death
13. No 4 Field-Marshal Death [4:55]
14. The Grave [3:44]
15. Softly the spirit flies up to heaven [3:15]
LISHKIN (? - ?)
16. She mocked [3:32]
Trad
17. Song of the Volga boatmen [4:20]
One of the greatest singing artists ever recorded.
Some later recordings of Boris Christoff, expressive and dramatically convincing though they invariably are, can be vocally rather gruff. On these early examples there is very little of that characteristic. The overriding impression is, on the contrary, of an uncommonly sonorous voice with brilliant top notes and a beautiful pianissimo that few other basses have ever been able to muster. Where he sometimes momentarily falters is in the lowest reaches of the voice. He has all the notes that are required but they can sometimes be weak and even slightly unsteady. What impresses most of all is his ability to go to the core of the music, whether it be an aria or a simple song. Like his contemporary baritone colleague – and brother-in-law – Tito Gobbi he was a unique singing-actor, and created a number of deeply penetrating portraits of some of the great bass roles.
The first disc in this volume is devoted to Italian opera. It gives a rare opportunity to hear him in a Mozart role. Considering his histrionic powers one would expect his Leporello to be callous and cynical. It isn’t. This is a man-servant with a heart of gold and his warm reading of the catalogue aria leads us to believe that he feels compassion for poor Elvira. Well, there is a hint of a mocking laughter near the end, but that’s all.
The Caldara aria, with Gerald Moore at the piano, is sung with restraint and honeyed tone. It is hard to believe that this finely honed reading comes from a man with such tremendous vocal resources.
The following six tracks are from a 1955 recital, recorded in Rome with the always responsive Vittorio Gui at the helm of the orchestra and chorus of the Rome Opera. The aria from Norma, preceded by almost 3½ minutes orchestral introduction, is monumental with the male chorus really on their toes. The Sonnambula aria has similarities to Chaliapin’s recording but is warmer, though maybe less elegant than Siepi’s. As Zaccaria in Nabucco he has authority and sings with unerring dramatic intensity. In Il santo nome from La forza del destino my favourite recording has always been Ezio Pinza’s from the late 1920s. Christoff’s reading may be deeper but Pinza’s noble tone still wins the day, if only by a hair’s breadth. Fiesco’s aria from Simon Boccanegra has the nobility that may be lacking in the Forza excerpt but his lowest notes are a bit sketchy.
The four remaining items on CD 1 are all from his earliest recording period, 1949 – 1951. The brilliance in the Ernani aria is truly glorious and there is ‘go’ in the cabaletta. Karajan and the Philharmonia provide ideally refined background for Filippo’s monologue from Don Carlo – a reading that few have surpassed. He recorded the opera complete twice – first in the mid-1950s in the four-act version and then in the early 1960s in the five-act version – both times with Gabriele Santini conducting. The later of them, on DG, was my introduction to this opera and Christoff’s Filippo is still the one that looms in my memory. However I have to admit nowadays that his reading then was a bit cruder than on the earlier one. Best of all, though, is the version with Karajan, on this disc – inward and deeply moving. The two arias from Mefistofele are vital and outgoing with virtuoso playing from the Philharmonia.
Filippo was one of Christoff’s signature roles, but he is even more strongly connected with the title role in Boris Godunov, which he also recorded twice. In fact he also sang both Pimen and Varlaam on both sets. On CD 2 we get some substantial excerpts from the first recording, conducted by Issay Dobrowen. It should be noted, though, that only tracks 1, 4 and 5 are from the complete set. Pimen’s and Varlaam’s solos as well as The Death of Boris were recorded separately a couple of years earlier. In each of the numbers he surpasses all the existing competition, possibly bar Chaliapin, whose Boris was of similar status. Both singers’ readings are necessary listening for anyone who wants to come to grips with this ill-fated Tsar. The depth of feeling and insight is almost unbearable. Masterly is the only word for it. He also makes the most of the other Russian arias. I learnt these – and also most of the Boris Godunov excerpts – through a DG recording with the great Finnish Bass Kim Borg in the mid-1960s, but good though he is – and I couldn’t resist a rehearing of some of them – he can’t quite challenge Christoff. The latter has more face. It should be said that a practically identical programme of Russian arias – these same recordings – was issued just about a year ago on EMI’s GROC label and readers who have already invested in that issue may hesitate about getting the present issue. The Italian programme is, to my knowledge, harder to come by separately and the Russian songs and sacred music on CD 3 is another asset. The first eleven were recorded with the admirable Feodor Potorzhinski Choir.
Many readers may have some favourite songs here and they are sensitively and beautifully sung with Christoff’s usual care for expression. Tracks 3 and 4 – The Bandore and Down Peterskaya Street are particular favourites with me, and the Song of the twelve robbers is another dear friend. Even better as an interpretation is the Siberian prisoner’s song; this is a performance with penetrating psychology, not just superb singing. This and the three Mussorgsky songs, all four recorded in 1951 with Gerald Moore at the piano, are among the greatest song interpretations ever set down. Strong words, no doubt, but I can’t really see any valid counter-arguments. Hans Hotter and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau were on the same exalted level but not necessarily better. The encore, Song of the Volga boatmen, is also masterly in the total control of dynamics.
To me Boris Christoff was unable to sing a dull tone. He is without doubt one of the greatest singing artists ever recorded. As always Nimbus also provide well researched biographical notes by Alan Bilgora. And the sound is as good as the original shellacs or early LPs allowed. Don’t miss this one!
-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International
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BORIS CHRISTOFF • Boris Christoff (bs); various assisting artists • NIMBUS 7961/3, mono (3 CDs: 214:40)
MOZART Don Giovanni: Madamina! Il catalogo e questo. CALDARA Come raggio di sol. BELLINI Norma: Ite sul colle, o Druidi. La sonnambula: Il mulino!…Vi ravviso. VERDI Nabucco: Sperate, o figli!…d’Egitto la sui lidi; Oh chi piange? … Del futuro. La forza del destino: Il santo nome di Dio. Simon Boccanegra: Il lacerato spirito. Ernani: Che mai veggio! … Infelice. Don Carlo: Ella giammai m’amo…Dormiro sol. BOITO Mefistofele: Ave Signor; Son lo spirito che nega. RIMSKY-KORSAKOV Sadko: Song of the Viking Merchant. Invisible City of Kitezh: O Vain Illusion. MUSSORGSKY Boris Godunov: Prologue, Coronation Scene; Pimen’s Monologue; In the Town of Kazan; I Have Attained the Highest Power; Clock Scene; Farewell and Death of Boris. Songs and Dances of Death: Field Marshal Death. Khovanschina: Dosifey’s Aria. The Grave. Softly the Spirit Flies up to Heaven. BORODIN Prince Igor: Prince Galitzky’s Aria. Khan Kontchak’s Aria. SEROV Shrove Tuesday. CHESNOKOV Lord, Have Mercy on Our People. GRETCHANINOV Litany. STROKINE Prayer to St. Simeon. LISHKIN She Mocked Me. FOLK SONGS Song of the Lumberjacks. The Bandore. Down the Petersky. Going Down the Volga. The Lonely Autumn Night. Psalm 137, “By the waters of Babylon.” Song of the 12 Robbers. Siberian Prisoner’s Song. Song of the Volga Boatmen
This stupendous collection of really top-drawer recordings, all made between 1949 and 1955, catches Boris Christoff in his magnificent early prime. This was the era in which he was first, and most often, compared to Feodor Chaliapin, and with good reason: In many of these scenes and arias, he lifted Chaliapin’s interpretations wholesale from the old records. Of course, if he hadn’t had a great dramatic instinct and hadn’t been such a riveting stage actor, the comparison might have faded away, and imitation certainly is the sincerest form of flattery.
Without going into each CD in too much detail, what I found interesting was that some of the little mannerisms that became his trademarks—particularly that little downward portamento on low notes at the ends of phrases—were far less noticeable in the 1949–50 recordings than later on. He was also less “snarly” during this period. By the time 1955 rolled around, it seemed as if everything he sang had an undercurrent of menace or a snarl in the voice, however magnificent the sound of his instrument, but the early recordings of Varlaam’s song from Boris Godunov and Leporello’s catalog aria from Don Giovanni have more lightness and humor about them. The 1950 version of King Philip’s “Dormiro sol” from Don Carlo is very slowly conducted by Herbert von Karajan, but Christoff, again, responds with a much subtler and less overbearing interpretation than he did on his 1952 recording of the complete opera with Stella, Filippeschi, and Gobbi (who was his brother-in-law, something I didn’t know).
Throughout his career, Christoff was as legendary for his arrogant and aloof treatment of colleagues as for his brilliant stage characterizations, but in the biographical notes it is mentioned that he was, even in his late 20s, a shy and often reluctant solo singer. It’s quite possible that in addition to the vocal training he received, his teacher Riccardo Stracciari also influenced his high-handedness by feeding his ego. There never seemed to be any real reason for his acting this way—every single one of his colleagues admired his talent and considered him one of the finest singing-actors of his time—but Christoff persisted in treating each and every one of them like crap. One might have thought that his developing a brain tumor in the late 1960s and having to fight his way back to sing again, which he did and gloriously so with no loss of tone or power, might have humbled him a little, but by all reports this was not so.
CD 3 contained the greatest surprise for me, an entire album with Russian choir and (on some numbers) a balalaika orchestra, similar in concept and layout (though with completely different songs) to Nicolai Gedda’s best-selling album of the early 1960s, Evening Bells. Again, Christoff is at his best here, including two more Chaliapin specialties, Down the Petersky and the Gretchaninov Litany. Perhaps the most surprising track of all, to me, is the arie antiche of Caldara, Come raggio di sol, sung with wonderful lightness to Gerald Moore’s typically splendid accompaniment. Since the death of Nimbus’s founder, Shura Gehrman, the label seems to be laying off a little on the swamp of echo-reverb it adds to older recordings. These tracks all have just enough reverb to make the performances sound lifelike and less two-dimensional than they did in their original release (on EMI). Despite the fact that the booklet fails to give the first names of any of the conductors, this set is highly recommended.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley