Mozert: Magnificent Ambersens, the Opera (Super-8 review)

Restored Director’s Cut, with Orson Bean, Joseph
Cottontail, Elvis Costello, Tom Hulce, and Agatha Sorehead. Lft. Sir Cedric
Noel Vivian Barnstable III, Toontown Philharmonic Orchestra and Chorus. 1930;
260 minutes. Standard and enormously overblown extra-widescreen presentations;
B&W and color; 2-D, 3-D, and DD-T soundtracks.

By John J. Puccio

As every opera buff knows, Magnificent Ambersens
(1930) was the writer, producer, actor, composer, film editor, gaffer, grip,
and best boy director Wolfgang Orson Wellseyan Mozert’s enigmatic musical
follow-up to his celebrated antiestablishment idyll, The Citizen Kane Mutiny.
And, as every musical film buff also knows, Ambersens was corrupted,
shredded, mutilated, and maimed by its studio, R.K. Maroon International, when
the filmmaker left it in their care whilst he took a cruise to South America
with his girlfriend, Jessica Rabbit. Mozert always said that he regretted what
later happened. (The studio’s cutting of his film, not his fling with Ms.
Rabbit.)

Providentially and unbeknownst to anyone outside his
immediate circle of friends, Mozert was able to retrieve most of the excised
portions of the movie from a dumpster behind the Maroon studios, footage that
only today, over ninety years later, he has reconstructed into a true
Director’s Cut. The incomprehensible new version--restored to its original
operatic setting--now includes several hours of expunged words never before
heard outside the Mozert household. The new version runs some 260 minutes, with
about three-and-a-half hours of additional, inexplicable verbiage. “A
Magnificent Ruin,” as one critic once called the truncated edition, is once
again “A Magnificent Rune.”

For those readers who may not be familiar with the film, Magnificent
Ambersens recounts the familiar tale of the demise of an American way of
life in Yoknapatawpha county, with the dissolution of the once lofty Grierson
dynasty and the depletion of the family fortune at the hands of modernity. The
cast includes Anne Boxster as Dolores Costello, the demanding matriarch of the
clan; young Timmy Holt as Richard Bennett, the handsome, ne’er-do-well; Joseph
Cottonball as Sterling Hayden, the corrupt police captain; Peter Lorry as
Heinrich Strasser, the gallant saloon keeper; longtime Mercury Theatre singers
Agnes Moorfoot, Ray Collyns, and Edward Rochester as Othello’s household staff;
and W.O.W. Mozert himself as the narrator, Paul Masson. Oh, and it’s an opera,
so there are also some songs.

But the studio’s version of the film was all they wanted
audiences to see. At last, with the additional footage, we are introduced to
the plot’s more intriguing music and characters: Gibson Gowland as Frank
McTeague, a San Francisco podiatrist; Zazu Pitts as Emily Tarkington, an
inconsolable harlequin; Humphrey Bogart as Corliss “Rosebud” Archer, a
relentless gumshoe; Erik von Stroheim as Mr. Arkadin, a small knot of
indecipherable fiber; G.W. Bush as Manderley, the sinister butler; George Lucas
as Sabrina, the butler’s daughter; Marlon Brando as the Chorus (widescreen);
Gabriel Heatter with the news; and one hard-boiled egg.

Together, they sing and act an unforgettably thrilling
narrative of greed, mystery, and women in flimsy white negligees that no film
buff, buffed or otherwise, should ignore. To say this new Director’s Cut is
merely a melodramatic journey into fear, the equivalent of a black-magic
stranger, a third man on the other side of the wind, a touch of evil, or a war
of the worlds would simply be the expression of a deep-seated and quixotic
riposte. No, this Director’s Cut restores the very essence of the songs, a
trial no viewer should miss.

Incidentally, I understand that later this spring Maroon
Studios will be releasing their big biographical epic of Mozert’s life,
starring Tom Hanks as W.O.W and Arnold Alois Schwarzenegger as his good friend
and buddy J.C.Penney Bach. Initially, the studio wanted Arnold to play Mozert,
but Arnold refused, saying he’d rather be Bach. Anyway, something to look
forward to.

In truth, it will be a long, hot summer in Shanghai before
we see the likes of Mozert’s genius again. His Director’s Cut has already established itself above criticism, and
far be it from me to peddle any word of reproach. At Classical Candor,
we will sell no whine before its time.

Video:
In terms of overall appearance, the old, abridged,
theatrical release of Magnificent Ambersens was a departure from the
visionary, avant-garde, new-wave technology originally employed by Mozert.
Always ahead of his time, Mozert had used widescreen, color, 3-D, and
holographic (HG) photography to glorious advantage (despite his alleged claim
that “no great film was ever made in color,” a nefarious misquote attributed to
him by his enemies). But at the time of the film’s initial release in 1932, the
studio would not have it Mozert’s way, bleaching out the color, cropping the
frames, and eliminating the HG, three-dimensional sonic effects. Which is
another reason the new edition is so welcome. What we have now in the
Director’s Cut is the formerly deleted widescreen, color, 3-D, HG footage
seamlessly intercut with the theatrical release’s standard-screen
black-and-white. In the event a viewer should be uncertain as to which parts
have been added to the older edition, the extra material has been clearly
labeled with a large pink asterisk on the left-hand side of the screen. A pair
of plastic HG glasses are enclosed in the reel’s case, and extra HG 3-D glasses
may be ordered from the studio for viewers figuring on the unlikelihood of
company.

As might be expected, the picture quality varies only
slightly between the original and added elements. Indeed, the
theatrical-release’s footage now looks its age, while the added footage looks
even older. Using the HG 3-D glasses can be a minor inconvenience, as one has
to put them on and take them off every ten seconds, but if you leave them on
throughout the viewing, you’ll notice a marked improvement in the
black-and-white. A lot of the grain and some of the smear of the old print is
ameliorated, and if a character here or there disappears entirely, it will
probably not be much of a concern to anyone but a die-hard movie aficionado,
anyway.

Which brings up a final concern. With or without the HG
3-D glasses, the average viewer will probably not be able to discern much of
what is going on. So, how was I able to see the picture when to you it will be
a monumental blur? Because my equipment is better than yours, that’s why. But
relax, because once you’ve finished reading my review, you’ll be able to hold
an intelligent conversation on the subject with anyone. After all, that’s what
reviews are for. You don’t have to go out and actually watch all those boring
old classic movies that critics are always raving about. Just check out the
reviews and people will think you’re smart.

Audio:
George Lucas’s Industrial Light and Magic Show have
remixed and remastered Mozert’s original 1.0 monaural sound with mixed results
in Dolty Digital-DDT 12.4ESP Amos InteriorScope At-the-Most Surround. No longer
is the music confined to a single location or even to a single set of speakers;
it now arrives at the ear from within the ear. The sound resonants outward from
the inner ear to the outer chamber, creating the sensation of being completely
under water. It is quite an accomplishment from a company renowned for its
creativity and innovation. When questioned about why they wanted to create so
aqueous an illusion, Mozert and Lucas replied, “Because.” Which is good enough
for us.

Extras:
I had expected a musical-film release of this stature to
be offered in at least a two-reel special edition, but, alas, it was not to be.
The film and its extra materials are presented on one Zoetrope Super-8 strip,
accommodating about twelve hours of content at a bit rate that failed to
register on my Zoetrope player’s readout. Nevertheless, it is quantity that
counts, especially in Hollywood.

The first and most important of the package’s bonus items
is a new audio commentary by Mozert himself. 
In it, the director takes us on a frame-by-frame tour of the Macbeth
mansion and grounds, with lucid explanations on diet and exercise. Although the
feature film itself is not rated, the director’s commentary is classified R for
sex, nudity, witches, and violence. Next up is a six-hour documentary, “Along
for the Ride,” the director’s unexpurgated diary of his South American road
trip, also rated R, this time for scenes of graphic weight gain.

The rest of the extras are of the more mundane variety and
are best watched once and forgotten. There are, of course, the usual behind-the-scenes scenes of scenic
scenes, these with on-air narration by both W.O.W. Mozert and Marlin Brando
(ultra-widescreen recommended). Then, there is a short series of still
pictures: a Rita Hayworth pinup shot (required viewing); a Zazu Pitts pinup
shot (optional viewing); and an Agnes Moorehead pinup shot (children’s advisory
warning). The extras conclude with a menu containing one scene selection; a
pan-and-scan theatrical release trailer; a widescreen rerelease trailer; and an
obscenely wide re-rerelease trailer featuring both Marlin Brando and Orson
Welles on screen at the same time (barely). Although Scottish is the only
spoken language provided, there are Danish subtitles for the Scottish impaired.

Parting Thoughts:
For film fans who will undoubtedly greet the Magnificent
Ambersens Director’s Cut gleefully, there is even more cause for gleeful
glee. Mozert recently let it be known that he and screenwriters Stanley Kubrick
and Broken Lizard are putting the final touches on the long-rumored musical
sequel to The Citizen Kane Mutiny. Slated for release some time in the
fall, Raising Kane is the story of the reclusive billionaire’s illegitimate
daughter, Sugar Kane Kowalczyk. It stars Jessica Rabbit and Betty Boop as
Sugar, with Harry Lime, Michael O’Hara, Will Varner, Hank Quinlan, and Peter
Bogdanovich in the immortal and possibly immoral saga of love, hate, sorrow,
horror, humor, and women in flimsy white negligees, set within a backdrop of
tragedy, redemption, and abstruse reconciliation. Although it sounds too good
to be true, it is. True, that is. And abstruse, promising to blow the lid off
the entire skateboarding community. There will, indeed, be chimes at midnight
and trouble in the glen tonight! And one hard-boiled egg.

JJP
 
To listen to a brief excerpt from this tape, click below:

Respighi: Ancient Airs and Dances (CD review)

Also, Concerto all’antica. David Alongna, violin;
Salvatore Di Vittorio, Chamber Orchestra of New York. Naxos 8.573901.

By John J. Puccio

Italian composer and violinist Ottorino Respighi
(1879-1936) is probably best known for his trilogy of tone-poem suites The
Pines, Fountains, and Festivals of Rome. However, coming
close on their heels is his Ancient Airs and Dances, here presented on a
Naxos CD by Maestro Salvatore Di Vittorio and the Chamber Orchestra of New
York.

Respighi wrote three suites of Ancient Airs and Dances
(1917, 1923, and 1931), the music freely adapted from original
sixteenth-century pieces for lute. He based the first suite on various
Renaissance works by Simone Molinaro, Vincenzo Galilei, and a few other
anonymous composers. He based the second suite on works for lute, archlute, and
viol by Fabritio Caroso, Jean-Baptiste Besard, Bernardo Gianoncelli, an
anonymous composer, and an aria attributed to Marin Mersenne. The third suite
Respighi based on lute and guitar works by Besard, Ludovico Roncalli, Santino
Garsi da Parma, and a few other anonymous composers. This last suite differs
from the previous ones in being slightly sadder than the others.

My own touchstone for these works has long been the 1958
stereo recording by Antal Dorati and the Philharmonia Hungarica, now on a
remastered Mercury Living Presence CD (and before that on LP). While I would
never suggest that in a field so subjective as music appreciation that there is
any absolute “best” of anything, I’ve always found Dorati’s performance
masterly, so any newcomer has a lot to look up to. Maestro Di Vittorio does a
pretty good job of it, although his interpretations reflect perhaps more of a
mock-historical perspective in these pieces than Dorati’s more Romantic
approach. I say “mock-historical” because even though Respighi based these Ancient
Airs and Dances on Baroque sources, he did intend them for today’s
audiences, kind of old works made new. So, it does bring up the question of
whether conductors should frame their performances in an ancient, historically
informed style or in a manner that more conforms to contemporary standards. As
Maestro Di Vittorio notes, “Respighi typically preferred combining
pre-Classical melodic styles and musical forms (such as dance suites) with
standard late 19th-century Romantic harmonies and textures.”

Whatever, the program begins with the Suite No. 1,
which includes four brief dance sections. Di Vittorio then follows Suite No.
1 with Suite No. 3, again four brief dances. It was unclear to me
why the conductor chose to present the suites out of chronological order except
that Suite No. 2, which comes last on the agenda, is longer than the
others, and maybe Di Vittorio wanted to end the Airs with the most
substantial material. I dunno.

Probably the most
striking things about Di Vittorio’s reading are the tempos. He tends to take
the fast movements very quickly and the slower movements very slowly. By that,
I mean that he follows one of the period-instrument practices, although not to
extremes. The faster music is certainly vigorous and stimulating but without
taxing one’s ears, while the slower sections have a sweet, lyrical, flowing quality
about them. Nevertheless, the Dorati performances seem more refined to me, more
elevated, more stately, more graceful. And with more uniform pacing, Dorati’s
handling of the various movements seem to hold together better than in this
newer recording.

Accompanying the Ancient Airs and Dances is an
early (1908) piece by Respighi, the Concerto all’antica (old-fashioned
or antique concert or simply “Concerto in an Ancient Style”). It’s a fairly
lyrical work that again draws upon older musical styles for inspiration, even
though Respighi admitted that he made up the whole thing himself as a joke for
German critics. Maestro Di Vittorio uses the first printed critical edition of
the score, published in 2019, making this a world-premiere recording of sorts.
I can understand why Di Vittorio begins the program with this selection: It
comes across as a proper and welcome complement to the Ancient Airs and
Dances, with an especially lovely Adagio and excellent playing from
violinist Davide Alogna.

Producers Salvatore Di Vittorio, Bill Siegmund, and Shanan
Estreicher and engineer Bill Biegmund recorded the music at the Concert Hall,
Adelphi University Performing Arts Center, New York in June 2019. The sound is
a tad forward and bright, the upper midrange somewhat edgy at times. Otherwise,
it’s good, modern sound, with plenty of clarity and even a little air around
the instruments.

Incidentally, since I had the Dorati recording in another
player, I couldn’t help notice the difference in sound. The sixty-year older Mercury
remaster appeared warmer, smoother, and slightly wider. Just sayin’.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Tchaikovsky: Symphonies Nos. 1-6 (CD review)

Also, Manfred
Symphony; Slavonic March; Francesca da Rimini; Capriccio italien; 1812
Overture; The Storm; Romeo and Juliet, fantasy-overture. Bernard Haitink, Royal
Concertgebouw Orchestra. Philips 442 061-2 (6 CD set).

By John J. Puccio

There are four of
five sets of Tchaikovsky symphonies I can recommend to the buyer who is
considering a complete cycle by a single conductor. On balance, however, I
prefer this older analogue set with Bernard Haitink and the Royal Concertgebouw
Orchestra (still available on Philips and now on Decca), both for its reasoned,
yet vigorous, performances and for its warm, wide-ranging sound. The other
recommendable sets include Jansons's digital set on Chandos, Muti's analogue
set on Warner/EMI, Markevitch's budget-priced set on Philips, and Jarvi’s set
on BIS, among several others.

So why the
Haitink set? Because in the symphonies themselves Maestro Haitink produces no
losers and at least three outright winners. His Nos. 2, 3 and
4 have never been bettered, and his No. 5 is among the best on disc.
Nos. 1, 6 and Manfred are good serviceable accounts. And then
there are the short fill-ups, of which "The Storm" is a stunner. Most
of the other pieces, like the 1812 and Romeo and Juliet
overtures, recorded earlier than the symphonies, are not first-rate but
adequate and stretch the set's value.

For those people
who consider Haitink too cool, too reserved, especially performing works by a
composer as red-blooded as Tchaikovsky, I suggest starting with the Fourth
Symphony. It should end all such preconceptions. As to audio quality, the
symphony recordings were made during the mid-to-late 1970's in some of
Philips's best analogue sound. Really, only the Chandos set beats it sonically,
and that is mainly because the Chandos sound is better imaged. The Philips
engineers tended to over-mike things at times, resulting in some
compartmentalization. Otherwise, the Philips sound is smooth, natural, robust,
and extremely dynamic.

By comparison,
the Jansons set costs more, includes fewer fillers, and has at least one
questionable recording of the Second Symphony. Like Haitink, the Muti
set comes at mid price, but it, too, includes fewer fillers and is less
convincing in most of the works (although his Manfred and Fifth
Symphonies are standouts). Markevitch has the advantage of coming on four
discs at budget price, but the drawbacks are obvious: the set includes only the
six numbered symphonies, two of which are split between two discs, and the
1960's sound is thinner and noisier than the competition. Still, Markevitch's
interpretations of the first three symphonies in particular must be counted
among the best available.

Probably the most
useful advice I could give is for one to buy individual symphonies and short
works disc by disc, choosing the best possible recordings by a variety of
conductors. Unfortunately, Haitink, Muti, and Markevitch are currently
available only in complete sets. So, I suggest buying the Haitink as core
material and supplementing it with a few other individual discs by Jansons and
Ashkenazy. Or check the used shops for deleted copies of single discs by Muti.
But by all means check out Haitink. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Telemann: Polonoise (SACD review)

Aisslinn Nosky, violin; Holland Baroque. Pentatone PTC
5186 878.

By John J. Puccio

Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) was the German composer
who played practically every instrument in the band yet was largely
self-taught. He originally wanted to be a lawyer, a course his family favored,
but he turned to music while at university. He went on to become one of the
most prolific composers the music world has ever known (his output numbers over
3,000 compositions), and he became friends with the likes of Bach and Handel,
both of whom admired his work and considered him among the leading composers of
the day.

Obviously, a man with such productive musical talents
experimented in a number of genres and fashions of the time. Among these was
the Polish style, inspired by a short stay in Poland and the dance music he
heard there. What we have in the current album is a survey of some of Telemann’s
more notable examples in the Polish style as performed by the period-instrument
ensemble Holland Baroque.

Founded in 2006, Holland Baroque describe themselves as
“an original and innovative baroque orchestra. The musicians use their
instruments to sing, dance, cry, and laugh through tradition, innovation,
surprise, and a dash of entertainment.” The players include Aisslinn Nosky,
violin; Judith Steenbrink, violin; Chloe Prendergast, violin; Filip Rekiec,
viola; Tomasz Pokrzywinski, cello; Christoph Sommer, lute; and Tineke
Steenbrink, harpsichord. Judith and Tineke Steenbrink are the Artistic Leaders.

So, what exactly is the “Polish style”? According to the
booklet notes it would be the style of a polonaise, which is a slow dance of
Polish origin, in triple meter, consisting chiefly of a march or promenade in
couples. Holland Baroque studied a number of such dances from Telemann and
chose a representative sampling for our enlightenment and enjoyment. And for
further illumination, they have arranged them into six suites and a
chamber-music setting. There are thirty-three selections in all, each brief but
entirely engaging.

The collection of tunes Holland Baroque provide is broad
enough to encompass a number of varied tempos, from slow dances to quicker
ones. The slower ones, like the Polonie 2 that opens the program, can be
downright solemn, while others are stately and fashionable. The faster ones
offer everything from a delightful lilt to a full-on romp.

Equally important, Holland Baroque play the music with
vigor, enthusiasm, and sure-handed precision. Yet their precision does not rob
the music of its joy. The sound of their historical instruments lends a
distinct flavor to the scores, not as rich, smooth, or mellifluous as modern
instruments but pleasing in its own way. It’s all quite captivating. 

Recording producer Carl Schuurbiers and engineer
Jean-Marie Geijsen made the hybrid SACD at Musis Arnhem, the Netherland, in
August 2020. It plays in two-channel stereo and multichannel on an SACD player
and in regular two-channel stereo on a regular CD player. I listened in
two-channel SACD stereo using a Sony SACD player. Although the sound is a tad
close, the instruments are realistically placed between the two speakers,
neither clumped too closely together nor strung out in a line. The sound is
natural, not at all bright or edgy, with a sweet but not too reverberant
ambient glow. It’s quite attractive sound.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Piano Potpourri, No. 1 (CD Mini-Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Beethoven: Variations. Angela Hewitt,
piano. Hyperion CDA68346.

You’ve got to love the quote from Beethoven that kicks off
the liner notes for this new release by the wonderful Canadian pianist Angela
Hewitt (b. 1958): “That piece of folly mine? Oh Beethoven, what an ass you were
in those days!” Old Ludwig was referring to a set of piano variations that he
had heard a friend playing, music that he did not recognize that young Ludwig
had composed back in 1806, the year he had also composed his more memorable Fourth
Symphony and Violin Concerto. These 32 Variations on an original
theme in C minor comprise the opening set of variations on this
entertaining release, the final recording Ms. Hewitt was able to make on her
beloved Fazioli piano, which was accidentally destroyed when it was dropped by
piano movers early in 2020 (she later that year acquired a replacement
Fazioli). There are six other sets of variations on this release, the longest
and most notable being the 15 Variations and a fugue on an original theme
‘Eroica,’ more commonly referred to as “The Eroica Variations,” but
probably the most recognizable – even hummable, for that matter – music appears
in the final two sets of variations on the program, 7 Variations on ‘God
Save the King’ and 5 Variations on ‘Rule, Britannia.’

No, this is not a disc containing music with the profound
musical and emotional depth of Beethoven’s late piano sonatas, but it is a disc
containing music by the master that delights and entertains us as we hear him
having fun at the keyboard, something that Ms. Hewitt seems to be doing as she
romps through these variations and leads us on a tour of some colorful musical
byways. Hee haw indeed!

Chick Corea Plays. Concord Jazz CJA00284.

The world lost a beloved musical giant early this year
with the passing of keyboard legend Armando Anthony “Chick” Corea (1941-2021).
My connection with and affection for Corea go way back, having first
encountered his music as a G.I. in Germany back in the ‘70s through his Return
to Forever LPs Light as a Feather, Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy,
and Where Have I Known You Before? After my discharge from the Army and
return to college, I picked up No Mystery and Romantic Warrior plus
my first-ever ECM album, Crystal Silence, a duet album featuring Corea
with vibraphonist Gary Burton. Around this same time my wife and I also had the
great thrill of seeing Return to Forever in concert. This was shortly after the
young Al Di Meola had joined the group on guitar, and he, Lenny White on drums,
Stanley Clarke on bass, and Corea on keyboards delivered thrill upon musical
thrill that evening. Not long after that, Return to Forever broke up, and Corea
went on to many other projects both as a leader and as a sideman, gathering an
incredible total of 25 (just this month, two posthumously) Grammy awards during
his storied career, of which jazz-rock fusion was just one small part. He was a
serious and very accomplished musician, conversant with a wide range of music,
which is evident on what would turn out to be his final recording, this two-CD
set of solo piano performances.            

“I’m part of a lineage,” Corea once explained. “The thing
that I do is similar to what Monk did, to what Bill Evans and Duke Ellington
did, and moving back into another era of music, what Bach and Mozart and
Beethoven did. These were all pianists who were composers at heart, who
gathered their own musicians together to play. I feel so proud to be a part of
that tradition.” When you look at the cover of Plays, his final album,
for which Corea himself designed the cover art, you see the names Mozart,
Scarlatti, Scriabin, Chopin, Evans, Monk, Jobim, Gershwin, Wonder – and Corea.
As the program unfolds, he offers spoken introductions to help the audience
(the recordings are from concert performances) feel at home with such a wide
range of music from such a diverse group of composers. His spoken introductions
and his spontaneous, improvisatory style of playing both serve to communicate
his wide-ranging love for and mastery of music regardless of genre.

One fascinating feature of his live solo concerts is that
he will often invite audience members to come on stage and improvise at the
keyboard alongside him. He never knows who might turn up, and he has had
children and competent amateurs come forward in past concerts, but on Plays,
the pianist who joined him on stage turned out to be the conservatory-trained
French classical pianist Charles Heisser and the French-Israeli jazz pianist Yaron
Herman, who has released albums on Blue Note and Decca Records. When they were
chosen for these brief duets, however, both were simply audience members. “I
didn’t know they were pros,” Corea noted. “but it’s always a lot of fun when I
invite pianists to come up on stage to improvise with me.” It’s fun for the
listener, too, to hear these musicians doing what they love to do, creating
music with their hearts, minds, and fingers. You don’t have to be a jazz fan,
or a classical fan, or even a fan of piano music to enjoy this album. If you
simply love music, I believe you will find that the late Chick Corea’s love for
music will reach out and touch your heart as you listen to this well-recorded
program of music that spans the centuries.  

Encounter. Igor Levit, piano. Sony Classical
19439786572.

The Russian-born German pianist Igor Levit (b. 1987) is
one of the brightest stars in the pianistic firmament. During the COVID-19
pandemic, he has been active in presenting music online, and in his recent
recordings he has taken on programs chosen not to showcase virtuosic pianism
but rather to reflect on philosophical/spiritual issues; not in some glib
New-Agey sort of way, but as a serious musician who finds himself challenged by
and engaged with life and its potential for enhancement. As the liner notes
point for Encounter proclaim, “the choice of works that are included on
this album is not dictated by any interest in musical history but by one that
is intensely existential. The present programme takes its cue from those
moments when the heart rate grows calmer, when the information overload is
reduced and our gaze is directed solely at what is essential.”

This two-CD set consists primarily of music in the form of
arrangements. Disc one is devoted to two sets of arrangements by the Italian
composer and pianist Ferruccio Busoni (1866-1924) of chorale preludes, ten by
Bach and six by Brahms. As you might imagine from the type of works these are,
they are not virtuoso piano works intended to dazzle; rather, they have a
stately, flowing beauty that Levit communicates well. You hear Bach, you hear
Brahms, but you begin to feel something beyond the notes.   

Disc two finds Levit taking his listeners ever more
inward, beginning with more music by Brahms, but once again not music
originally composed by Brahms for the piano, but rather arrangements by Max
Reger (1873-1916) of Brahms’s Vier ernste Gesänge (Four Serious
Songs). The liner notes observe that “Brahms’s pitiless examination of
mortality and death in his Vier ernste Gesänge was a reaction to the
deaths of a number of family members and close friends in the years leading up
to their composition. Above all, they anticipate the death of Clara Schumann,
whom Brahms had loved all his life and who had suffered a serious stroke in
late March 1896. The then sixty-three-year-old composer was also aware of his
own incurable illness when he completed these songs that same summer.” Next in
the program is an arrangement for piano by Julian Becker of the brief, somber Nachtlied
(Night Song) by Reger himself, which was composed as a setting of these
lines by a 16^th century theologian: “The night has come when we
should rest; may it please God to permit the devout to lie down in His company
and with His blessing and be at Peace.” Following this brief but deeply moving
three-minute piece, Levit concludes the program with the only composition that
is not an arrangement, but was originally composed for the piano, Palais de
Mari by the American composer Morton Feldman (1926-1987). Written in 1986,
it was Feldman’s final composition for solo piano. This is spare music, quiet
music, music that hints rather than declares, that sighs rather than sings. For
more than 28 minutes, Levit uses Feldman’s haunting score to invite us into a
quiet world of reflection, a refuge from a world of polemic and pandemic. This
is an utterly beautiful release.

Budapest Concert: Keith Jarrett, piano. ECM 2700/01 B0032851-02.

Like Chick Corea, the versatile pianist Keith Jarrett (b.
1945) has had long and successful career, and even for a time shared keyboard
duties with Corea in the legendary Miles Davis electric band of the late’60s
(although unlike Corea, he hated the electric piano, but played it then
because, well, it was for Miles). His recorded legacy is rich and varied: Forest
Flower with Charles Lloyd; his American Quartet albums with Dewey Redman,
Charlie Haden, and Paul Motian; his European quartet albums with Jan Garbarek,
Palle Danielsson, and Jon Christensen; his Standards Trio albums with Gary
Peacock and Jack DeJohnette; his solo piano albums, including one of the most
famous solo piano albums of all time, his Köln Concert; his classical
albums, including works by Bach, Bartok, Mozart, Harrison, Hovhaness,
Shostakovich, Pärt, and others – it is an incredible recorded legacy. Strangely
enough, however, and very much unlike his contemporary Chick Corea, he has
never received a Grammy (although Köln Concert was named a Grammy Hall
of Fame recording in 2011). Tragically enough, in 2018 Jarrett suffered the
first of several strokes that have left him unable to play the piano. As a
longtime Jarrett fan, that leaves me heartbroken; I cannot begin to imagine
being in his situation.

Budapest Concert was recorded live on July 3, 2016
at the Bela Bartok Concert Hall in Budapest. The 1.5-hr concert consisted of 12
improvised selections (titled “Parts I-XII,”), the first four of which appear
on CD1 (37:26), while CD2 (54:46) contains the final eight plus two encore
pieces, covers of “It’s a Lonesome Old Town” and “Answer Me, My Love.” Jarrett
comes out pumped with energy in Part I, the longest (14:42) and most intense,
challenging music of the whole program. It is almost as if Jarrett was aware
that he was playing in Bartok Hall and was determined to make music in that
tradition and spirit. After that initial assault, he seems to relax somewhat,
and the music becomes more accessible, especially on CD2, where Jarrett is able
to spin some memorable melodies seemingly out of thin air.

Suite: April 2020: Brad Mehldau, piano. Nonesuch
075597919288.

Pianist Brad Mehldau (b.1970) explains on his website that
while sheltering at home with his family in the Netherlands during the COVID-19
pandemic, he wrote a dozen new songs about what he was experiencing and was
able to record them safely in an Amsterdam studio. He characterizes the album
as “a musical snapshot of life the last month in the world in which we’ve all
found ourselves. I’ve tried to portray on the piano some experiences and
feelings that are both new and common to many of us. In ‘Keeping Distance,’ for
example, I traced the experience of two people social distancing, represented
by the left and right hand—how they are unnaturally drawn apart, yet remain
linked in some unexplainable, and perhaps illuminating way… There’s also been a
welcome opportunity to connect more deeply with my family than we ever have,
because of the abundant time and close proximity. The last three pieces hit on
that connection—the harmony we find with each other, making meals together or
just horsing around. ‘Lullaby’ is for everyone who might find it hard to sleep
now. Neil Young’s words in ‘Don’t Let It Bring You Down’ have always been
counsel for me, now more than ever, when he instructs: ‘Don’t let it bring you
down/It’s only castles burning/Find someone who’s turning/And you will come
around.’ Billy Joel’s ‘New York State of Mind,’ a song I’ve loved since I was
nine years old, is a love letter to a city that I’ve called my home for years,
and that I’m far away from now. I know lots of people there and miss them
terribly, and I know how much that great city hurts right now. I also know that
it too will come around.” This is an album you can just put on, relax, and
enjoy. It is not quite easy listening music, but it is human music,
communicative music, music that really does seem to capture the spirit of that
crazy year, 2020. And nicely enough, Mehldau builds up toward a positive,
optimistic finish, capped off with his final cover, Jerome Kern’s “Look for the
Silver Lining.” Having just received my second dose of Pfizer vaccine a few
days ago, that is a song to which I can definitely relate.

Mehldau is another jazz pianist who is more musically
versatile than you might think. If you really want to hear some peak jazz
Mehldau, you really can do no better than his The Art of the Trio albums
from the 1990s, especially The Art of the Trio III – Songs (Warner
Brothers 9362-47051-2), which is absolutely amazing. On the more
classical side, his solo release After Bach (Nonesuch 7559-79318-0) is
well worth a listen. Enjoy…

KWN

Rodrigo: Concierto de Aranjuez (CD review)

Also, music of De La Maza, Tansman, and De Visee.
Thibaut Garcia, guitar; Ben Glassberg, Orchestre National du Capitole de
Toulouse. Erato 0190295235710.

By John J. Puccio

It’s a testament, I suppose, to the enduring popularity of
the Concierto de Aranjuez by Spanish composer Joaquin Rodrigo
(1901-1999) that two new recordings of it appeared within days of one another.
This one under review is by the young French classical guitarist Thibaut Garcia
(b. 1994), conductor Ben Glassberg, and the somewhat unwieldy named Orchestre
National du Capitole de Toulouse. Garcia joins a cavalcade of guitarists who
have tackled and recorded the Concierto, and while I enjoyed it, I can’t
say it struck me as any better or any worse than a dozen others I’ve come
across in the past few years. Nevertheless, Garcia’s fans should find the album
a delight.

At the risk of needlessly repeating myself, I’ll begin
with some background on the music. As you probably know, Rodrigo got his
inspiration for the Concierto (1939) from the gardens at Palacio Real de
Aranjuez, the spring resort palace and gardens built by Philip II in the last
half of the 16th century. The music attempts to convey the feeling of another
time and place by summoning the sounds of nature.

Rodrigo described the first movement Allegro con
spirito as "animated by a rhythmic spirit and vigour without either of
the two themes interrupting its relentless pace." Certainly, Garcia
captures the rhythms of the movement well, and the orchestra radiates a
suitable vigor. However, the entire ensemble is enhanced so much by the hall
acoustics, it perhaps lends a bit too much bloom to the proceedings.

The composer said that the second movement "represents
a dialogue between guitar and solo instruments” (cor anglais, bassoon, oboe,
horn, etc.). What he didn’t say was how utterly beautiful it can be, something
audiences have been saying for more than eighty years now. At its heart the
music is a soulful, almost mournful dialogue between the guitar and various
instrumental soloists, particularly the cor anglais. Taken too slowly, the
movement can sound overly sentimental, even drippy, but taken too quickly it
can lose some of its emotional appeal. Garcia approaches it with a delicate yet
somewhat hasty hand. While he is a wonderful guitarist, no doubt, and handles
all of the material easily, I didn’t feel as involved with the music as I have
with some other artists.

The Concierto ends with a perky little closing
tune, one that Rodrigo said "recalls a courtly dance in which the
combination of double and triple time maintains a taut tempo right to the
closing bar." It should be trim and lively, maybe a bit effervescent as
well, and Garcia manages it well, both he and the orchestra fresh and alive.

As nice as Garcia’s recording of the Concierto may
be, I continue to favor the work of Pepe Romero (Philips or Decca), Angel
Romero (Mercury), and Narciso Yepes (HDTT) for their greater spark,
originality, poignancy, and flavor, although I must admit it’s close.

Accompanying the Concierto are three additional
collections of music for guitar by various other composers. The first of these
are four short solo works by Regino Sainz de la Maza (1896-1981), the Spanish composer
and guitarist who, interestingly, first performed Rodrigo’s Concierto.
Following his pieces is a suite for guitar and chamber orchestra by the Polish
composer Alexandre Tansman (1897-1986). And the final tracks are a suite of
tunes by the Seventeenth-century French composer Robert de Visee (c.
1655-1732/33), transcribed for solo guitar by the artist, Thibaut Garcia. Of
these selections, I preferred the Tansman suite most of all and found the de
Visee suite a bit tiresome.

Producers Alain Lanceron, Hughes Deschaux, and Laure
Casenave made the album at Halle aux Grains, Toulouse, France in 2019 and 2020.
The sound is reverberant and the miking fairly close, producing a big, robust,
yet not particularly detailed sound. The sound is, in fact, soft and soothing
but doesns’t exactly glisten with transparency. The guitar is well centered,
looms large, and tends to dominate the orchestra behind it. Overall, the sound
comes across as something of a big clump rather than a collection of individual
instruments meshing together. Still, I’m probably nitpicking. It’s big, warm,
resonant sound and should please most listeners.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Recent Releases (CD Mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Christopher Tin: To Shiver the Sky.
Danielle de Niese, soprano; Pene Pati, tenor; ModernMedieval; Royal Opera
Chorus; Pembroke College Girls’ Choir; The Assembly; Anna Lapwood, Organ;
Christopher Tin, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. Decca Gold B0032422-02.

The foreword to the liner notes proclaims
that “This is the story of flight: of humanity’s quest to break the bonds of
earth, challenge the heavens, and take our rightful place among the stars… This
is the story of flight told through music, and through the words of 11 of
history’s pioneers, pilots and engineers, scientists and storytellers,
stargazers and mystics, men and women who freed us from the shackles of
gravity, and stretched the limits of our imagination. It’s the greatest
adventure on which man has ever embarked.” That is certainly an ambitious aim,
and although I will freely admit to some skepticism, I will humbly admit that I
was entertained and indeed won over by the music of the young American composer
Christopher Tin (b. 1976), of whom I had never heard before checking this CD
out of the library. With lyrics from historical figures such as Leonardo da
Vinci, Ovid, Copernicus, Yuri Gagarin, and others, sung in a variety of
languages, with grand musical arrangements and powerful sonics, this truly is a
release that will make a music-loving audiophile shiver in delight.

Beethoven: Symphony No. 5; Gossec: Symphonie
à 17 parties. François-Xavier Roth, Les Siècles. Harmonia Mundi HMM 902423.

I recently completed a modest survey of
recordings of Beethoven’s venerable Symphony No. 5 in which I looked at both
period instrument recordings (7/5 of Beethoven Part 1) and those by modern orchestral forces (7/5 of Beethoven Part 2). Having spent so much time listening to
that work, wonderful though it is, I was not really all that eager to audition
yet another recording of it, but this new recording by Maestro Roth and his
French period-instrument orchestra had two appealing things going for it.
First, I had heard previous recordings they had made of music by Debussy and
Ravel and had been quite impressed by both the performance and sound; second, I
had never heard of the French composer François-Joseph Gossec (1734-1829) and
was curious to hear his music. As it turned out upon auditioning this well-engineered
Harmonia Mundi CD, my curiosity was richly rewarded. Although the Beethoven
performance does not quite edge out the Savall for pride of place in my
personal pantheon, this is a fine version that is well worth hearing,
especially for those who have not yet heard the Fifth performed by other
than a modern orchestra. But the real ear-opener was the Gossec, an energetic
symphony that fully deserves to be heard alongside the mighty Beethoven work.
What as pleasant surprise! Listening to the Gossec reminded me of when I
finally sat down and listened seriously to the Beethoven Symphony No. 2, a
work I had always neglected in favor of his other symphonies. My goodness, what
had I been missing all those years?! Hearing the Gossec gave me a similar
feeling–why had I never heard this music before?! This is an exciting,
stimulating work, fully deserving to be heard alongside Beethoven, and I intend
to seek out more music by this composer. I suspect that if you give this CD a
listen, you may well want to do the same.

Borodin: Requiem. Ian Boughton,
tenor; Stephanie Chase, violin; Margaret Field, soprano; Geoffrey Simon,
Philharmonia Orchestra/BBC Symphony Chorus. Cala Signum SIGCD2094.

Longtime classical music fans might
remember Australian-born conductor Geoffrey Simon (b. 1946) from those superb
Debussy recordings he made with the Philharmonia for the Cala label back in the
early ‘90s. Those recordings are what sprang to my mind when I saw this new
release at the library; indeed, I was surprised to see that Simon was
apparently back at it three decades later. It was not until I had already
played (and thoroughly enjoyed) this CD a couple of times that I read the fine
print to discover that although the copyright for this release was 2020, the
recording was done in 1992. I then took a quick look on Amazon and found out
that this program was originally released on Cala in 1993 as a Borodin
collection, then reissued by Cala in 2006 with a new cover, this time
highlighting the Requiem, and now it is being reissued once again as a
Cala Signum release, with another new cover that once again highlights the Requiem.

If you were not aware that the Russian
chemist and composer Alexander Borodin (1833-1887) wrote a requiem, you need
not be embarrassed. This is not a requiem mass in the manner of Mozart,
Beethoven, Berlioz, Verdi, et al. It is one movement that lasts only
5:26 as performed here. And oh, by the way, the original was a little piano
piece by Borodin; the orchestration done by the conductor Leopold Stokowski. Why,
then, is it the title of the album? Ahh, the mysteries of life and classical
music marketing…

That said, it is an interesting enough
little piece, and the rest of the program consists of more substantial fare
that highlights the colorful, melodic music for which Borodin is famous. There
are the Polovstian Dances and Suite from Prince Igor, an arrangement for
violin and orchestra by fellow Russian composer Rimsky-Korsakov of Borodin’s Nocturne
from his String Quartet No. 2, his symphonic poem In the Steppes of
Central Asia, and finally, his Petite Suite, which Borodin
originally wrote for the piano but was later orchestrated by Glazunov. All in
all, what we have here is more than 78 minutes of colorful, expressive,
well-recorded music that offers a great overview and introduction to
Borodin.    

Desplat: Airlines. Emmanuel Pahud,
flute; Alexandre Desplat, Orchestre National de France. Warner Classics
0190295306878.

French film composer Alexandre Desplat (b.
1961) has won Academy awards for his scores for The Shape of Water and The
Grand Budapest Hotel, both of which are represented in arrangements of
excerpts on this imposing new release from Warner Classics is which Desplat
makes a case for considering film music as serious music, not just light music
for entertainment. The program also includes his Pelléas et Mélisande,
which the composer describes as a Symphony concertante inspired by
Debussy and written to highlight the sound of the flute, played here by
renowned French flautist Emmanuel Pahud (an article about Pahud’s golden flute
appears in the March 2021 issue of Gramophone, which coincidentally
enough arrived at my abode the same day as I first auditioned this CD). Yes,
overall this CD sounds for the most part like movie music, but it is very fine
movie music; indeed, it is very good music period, and well-recorded to boot.
Some may find the sweetness of the music combined with the sweetness of the
flute a bit too caloric, but hey, we all enjoy an occasional overindulgence,
right? No, this is not the kind of music I would be likely to play over and
over, but for those who enjoy cinematic sound, this is well worth an audition.
(And if you have never seen The Grand Budapest Hotel, you definitely
need to fill that gap in your cinematic experience…)     

Shostakovich: Symphony No. 11 (“The
Year 1905”). Vladimir Jurowski, London Philharmonic Orchestra. London
Philharmonic Orchestra LPO-0118.

The Symphony No. 11 (“The Year 1905”) by Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich
(1906-1975) comes across in many ways more like one big tone poem than it does
a symphony, which is not surprising, given that its four movements are each
given tone-poem-like titles and that the four movements are played without
pause. To my mind, at least, as much as I admire Shostakovich, No. 11 is
one of those pieces you just have to be in the mood for, and frankly, that mood
does not strike me often. When it does, though, I want a performance that
really brings the music to life, and this one by Jurowski and the LPO just does
not do it for me. It just seems too polite, too matter-of-fact. When I am in
the mood to hear this work, I would much rather listen to the rendition by the
Boston Symphony Orchestra under Andris Nelsons on DG, a performance and
recording of significantly greater impact and power. YMMV. 

Bruckner: Mass in E minor; Motets.
Henry Websdale and Donal McCann, organ; Sir Stephen Cleobury, The Choir of
King’s College, Cambridge/Academy of St. Martin’s in the Fields. King’s College
Cambridge KG50035.

Bruckner is most well-known for his
symphonies, but he also composed in other genres, such as masses and motets.
This recording presents the second of his three masses plus several of his
motets. Unfortunately, I was immediately put off by the sound of the voices,
which to my ears at least just sounded young and shouty, just not right for
this music. Thinking I was perhaps in some sort of churlish mood, I pulled out
an older DG recording of the same E minor Mass as performed by the Choir
and Orchestra of the Bavarian Radio Symphony under the direction of Eugen
Jochum and was immediately reassured that no, the problem was neither my mood
nor my hearing, it was with the sound of the young English choir. That is a
shame, because in every other respect – engineering, liner notes, etc. – this
is truly a first-class release, but the sonority of the choir simply seems
inadequate to communicate the deep beauty of this music. In the end, this is a
disappointing release.    

Bach: Goldberg Variations. Parker
Ramsay, harp. King’s College Cambridge KG50049.

From the same label comes a recording that
is the very opposite of a disappointment. This performance the young American
musician Parker Ramsay of Bach’s immortal Goldberg Variations is utterly
delightful, first-class in every respect. But what makes it truly revelatory is
that Ramsay has not recorded them on piano, nor on harpsichord, but instead he
has recorded a transcription he made for harp, and rather than sounding like
some sort of novelty, it sounds perfectly natural, musical, and glorious. In
the liner notes, Ramsay asserts that he “wanted to show the world that the harp
is not a toy for composers to whip out in precious moments in orchestral music,
but a serious instrument whose variety of timbre can hold the attention span of
a listener for an hour or more.” For a spellbinding 78 minutes and 45 seconds,
this recording proves his point. If you are a fan of the Goldbergs, you
really ought to put this recording on your must-hear list. It will give you a
whole new perspective on the musical possibilities of the harp as well as a
deeper appreciation for the genius of Bach.    

#Goldberg
Reflections: Niklas Liepe, violin; Jamie Phillips, NDR Radiophilharmonie.
Sony Music 19439778302.

From
Sony comes another fascinating perspective on the possibilities inherent in the
Goldbergs, not from a single instrument this time, but rather from an
ensemble. Or, more precisely, ensembles, not only of performers but also
of composers. On this ambitious two-CD album, violinist Niklas Liepe has masterminded
a musical collection consisting of arrangements of movements from the Goldbergs
interspersed with brief compositions by contemporary composers that are
reactions to, reflections upon, takeoffs from, or otherwise inspired by Bach’s
iconic composition. The musicians include Niklas Liepe, violin; Nils Liepe,
harpsichord and piano; Anna Lewis, solo viola; Nikolai Schneider, cello;
Friedrich Heinrich Kern, vibraphone; and conductor Jamie Phillips leading the
NDR Radiophilharmonie. The composers include Rolf Rudin (b. 1961, Germany),
Sidney Corbett (b. 1960, USA), Andreas Tarkmann (b. 1956, Germany), Dominik
Dieterle (b. 1989, Germany), Wolf Kerschek (b. 1969, Germany), Moritz Eggert
(b. 1965, Germany), Daniel Sundy (b. 1979, USA), Tobias Rokahr (b. 1972,
Germany), Friedrich Heinrich Kern (b. 1980, Germany), Stephan Koncz (b. 1984,
Austria), and Konstantia Gourzi (b. 1962, Greece). This might sound like a huge
hodgepodge, but it all blends together into an entertaining whole that stays
true to Bach while expanding the conception of the variations. Yes, it expands
from Bach, but is firmly rooted in Bach, and never strays from style or
sonority that sounds estranged from the sound-world of the Goldbergs.
The end result is spellbinding, one that should appeal to just about anyone who
loves the music of Bach, and even to those who have not yet discovered the
music of the great master. I simply cannot recommend this too highly; it is one
heck of a hoot!

LCO Live -
Vaughan Williams | Suk | Dvorak. Christopher Warren-Green, London Chamber
Orchestra. Signum Classics SIGCD638.

Sometimes you
just need to be reminded how lovely certain music can be. Auditioning this CD,
which I had added with some reluctance to the stack of new releases I had found
at the library, did just that for me. What a revealing reminder of what I had
been missing from music I had long neglected! Not so much the opening piece,
the Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis by Ralph Vaughan Williams, for
I play a lot of RVW’s music and the Tallis Fantasia is often included on
various RVW releases, but even in this case, the beauty of this performance by
the London Chamber Orchestra under the baton of Maestro Warren-Green quickly
brought a smile to my face. It was the Serenades by Suk and his teacher
Dvorak that really made my day, for I had truly forgotten just how beautiful,
how moving, how rewarding these works are. With more that 70 minutes of
lovingly performed, warmly recorded music for strings, this is truly a
recording to both stir and soothe the soul, delivering whatever your soul might
need during these difficult days.

KWN

Rott: Orchestral Works, Vol. 2 (CD review)

Symphony No. 1; Symphony for Strings; Symphonic
Movement. Christopher Ward, Gurzenich Orchester Koln. Capriccio C5414.

By John J. Puccio

I can’t help thinking when I hear the name of Austrian
composer Hans Rott ((1858-1884) of Alfred Hitchcock’s North By Northwest.
In the movie, Cary Grant plays a business executive named Roger Thornhill. When
the heroine sees his initials as “ROT,” she asks him what the “O” stands.
“Nothing,” he replies.

It reminds me that there have been quite a few composers
over the years whose names once meant something but have now faded into
obscurity, into nothingness. Such was the fate of Hans Rott. He was a
contemporary of and fellow student with Gustav Mahler at the Vienna
Conservatory (they even roomed together for a short time). As a composer, Rott
wrote only a few pieces of music, then went mad and died young. After writing
his Symphony No. 1 in 1880 Rott tried pressing it on Brahms and
Bruckner, but had no success. Brahms even became annoyed with Rott’s pushiness
(and possibly with some of the symphony’s content, which he thought mimicked
his own work), telling him he had no talent whatsoever. As a result of these and
other obstacles in his life, Rott became depressed, delusional, hostile, and
dangerous. The state locked him up in a mental institution while he was in his
early twenties, and he died there several years later, both the man and his
music now largely forgotten.

None of this would
be of any concern to us today if nobody had rediscovered his First Symphony
and re-evaluated it. It seems scholars have taken notice of the fact that it
bears striking resemblances to the work of Brahms, Bruckner, Schumann, Wagner,
and Mahler. The trouble with the Mahler connection, though, is that Rott wrote
his symphony in 1880, predating Mahler’s First Symphony by some half a
dozen years. If anything, Rott may have influenced Mahler, who knew Rott and
openly appreciated his work.

Be that as it may,
modern listeners will draw their own conclusions about Rott after listening to
his music. The Symphony No. 1 does remind me a bit of Schumann in the
opening, Wagner in some of bigger, grander passages, Brahms in the Finale, and
maybe a little of Mahler as things go along. When you listen to the
third-movement Scherzo, you would, indeed, swear it could have been
Mahler, the similarities seeming much too obvious to be mere coincidence.
Clearly, one of the two men influenced the other, but it may take a Sherlock
Holmes or a Hercule Poirot to figure out who mostly influenced whom.

Whatever the case, the Symphony No. 1 is filled
with intriguing, atmospheric, and pleasurable (if not all that memorable)
passages, interesting in spite their similarities to the work of the
aforementioned composers. In the end, for me the symphony sounds too much like
a pastiche, and not the very best at that. Yet I did like that bizarre Scherzo
and the overall Romanticism of the piece.

Maestro Christopher Ward and the Gurzenich Orchestra
Cologne give the symphony their best, perhaps even drawing out comparisons with
other composers more than most. The symphony begins quietly, much like Mahler’s
First, though with both a Wagnerian and Schumann-like flavor. Then, by
the time the first movement gets moving, we hear a touch of Brahms. The slow
second movement Adagio seems more appealing at its outset than it does
in its development. Maestro Ward lends it a lyrical touch throughout, yet it
doesn’t seem to go anywhere.

Fortunately, we are rescued by the Scherzo, a jolly
affair that must have impressed Mahler, since Mahler used the idea in several
of his own quirky, ironic, sardonic movements. Ward does a good job realizing
the humor and idiosyncrasies of the piece. Then the symphony culminates in a
lengthy grand finale with which Ward takes his time; maybe too much so because
it appears to go on forever with a good deal of pomp and presumption. Anyway,
the Symphony No. 1 turned out to be Rott’s first and only symphony, so
we can just wonder what he might have produced had he lived.

Accompanying the symphony is a much-earlier work, the
incomplete Symphony for String Orchestra (1874-75). This is a more
conventional piece and harks back to an earlier Romantic style, early Beethoven
or late Mozart perhaps. It exhibits a youthful enthusiasm in its opening
movement; a kind of Mendelssohn or Schubert melancholy in its central Largo;
and a joyful fervor in its third and final movement Scherzo. Among
Rott’s notes, scholars have found sketches for a finale but nothing complete
enough to reconstruct.

The last item on the program is the world première of a Symphonic
Movement by Rott, a first-draft of the first movement of his Symphony
No. 1. While I’m not sure the final version was an improvement, Maestro
Ward does his best to provide it a proper gravitas. By this time, you may be
getting used to the music and rather enjoying it. It’s worth a listen.

More good news: The folks at Capriccio have provided the
disc with some beautiful artwork on the cover of the insert booklet, the back
of the booklet, and the inside of the keep case. What’s more, they provide a
handsome slipcover for the case, if you have a use for such things.

Producer Johannes Kernmayer and engineer Sebastian Nattkemper
recorded the music at Studio Stolberger Strasse, Cologne, Germany in January
2020. Absolute transparency is not the album’s strong suite, but naturalness
is. At first it sounds fairly ordinary, and then you realize it sounds pretty
much as a real orchestra would sound in a concert hall from a moderate
distance. The stereo spread is also realistic, with a decent amount of
orchestral depth. Dynamic range, impact, and frequency extremes are adequate,
too. Balance is a tad sharp in the upper midrange, though. Like the music, the
sound is not a show-stopper but pleasant in the moment.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Recent English Symphonic Releases (CD/SACD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Perhaps
it can all be traced back to the British Invasion back in the 60s, the Beatles
and Stones and all that, but in any event, my wife and I have pretty much
become dyed-in-the-wool Anglophiles over the years. William Wordsworth, John
Mayall, Ian Fleming, Monty Python, Eric Clapton, Fawlty Towers,
John Le Carré, All Creatures Great and Small. Agatha Christie, Black
Adder, The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, Keeping Up
Appearances, John McLaughlin, The Good Neighbors, J.R.R. Tolkien, Are
You Being Served?, Jeff Beck, Endeavour, Inspector Morse, Inspector
Lewis, Miss Marple, Malcolm Arnold, Dr. Who, D.C.I. Banks,
Sherlock, J.K. Rowling, Boaty McBoatface, Planet Earth, Top
Gear, Mum, Hold the Sunset, All Creatures Great and Small (redux),
The Great British Baking Show… And then there is As Time Goes By,
which our local PBS station aired for years and years every weeknight at 11,
over and over and over again. In October, 2020, the inevitable finally
happened; they announced that after many, many years, they were no longer going
to be showing it. Tears and tribulation in the Nehring household! By Christmas,
we had purchased the complete DVD set, and are blessedly back to watching an
episode every weeknight at 11, which we plan to keep doing for the rest of our
married life. (Our oldest daughter, now 40, recently remarked that she felt as
though Dame Judy Dench was her dear British auntie).

As
far as classical music, I am also something of an Anglophile, which I can trace
back to the time in the mid 70s when I checked out a library copy of Sir Adrian
Boult conducting the New Philharmonia Orchestra in a performance of Symphony
No. 3 (“Pastoral”) by Ralph Vaughan Williams, partly because the composer
had the same first name as my late father. I was immediately transfixed by the
sheer beauty and allusive atmosphere of the music, and soon sought out more
recordings by RVW and other composers from across the pond. I discovered a vast
universe of richly rewarding music and have acquired many wonderful recordings
by English composers as well as their British brother and sister composers over
the years. Allow me to present then for your edification three recent releases
of English symphonic music that nobly represent the depth and diversity of this
music.

Vaughan
Williams: Symphony No. 5; Scenes Adapted from Bunyans’s Pilgrim’s Progress.
Emily Portman, folk voice; Kitty Whately, mezzo-soprano; Marcus Farnsworth,
baritone; BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Singers Quartet; Martyn Brabbins, BBC
Symphony Orchestra. Hyperion CDA68325. 

Vaughan
Williams (1872-1958) composed nine symphonies, all of which are excellent. Nos.
3, 4, 5, and 6 are, to my humble mind at least,
masterpieces that belong in every serious classical music collection.  Of those fab four, Symphony No. 5 is
foremost. There are many fine recordings available, with my personal favorites
being two older versions led by Previn (RCA and Telarc), a more recent version
led by Michael Collins on BIS, which is paired with a fine concerto by Finzi,
and the CD I am most likely to pop into my player because of its amazing
program, featuring James Spano leading the Atlanta forces, also on Telarc.

This
new Hyperion release need not hang its head in such company, as it is a fine
performance captured in first-rate sound quality. Overall, Brabbins’s
interpretation seems a bit on the subdued side, a little slow, a little soft,
but that is not really a mark against it. Under his baton, the music flows
smoothly and holds together as an organic whole, the movements seeming to fit
together perfectly. Spellbinding!

Another
appealing feature of this release is the inclusion of scenes adapted from RVW’s
music for John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress (which was actually the first
RVW music I ever heard, having attended a live performance in 1969 about which
I now recall virtually nothing, alas). This is music not often heard, of which
there is enough here to be enjoyed on its own or to serve as an appetizer for
the complete work (I can vouch for the Hickox version on Chandos). Overall,
this new release from Hyperion is a fine addition to the catalog of RVW
recordings and is well worth an audition, especially for those who are
unfamiliar with Pilgrim’s Progress.

English
Music for Strings: Britten, Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge;
Bridge, Lament; Berkeley, Serenade for Strings; Bliss, Music
for Strings. John Wilson, Sinfonia of London. Chandos CHSA 5264. 

There are a number of recordings
of English string music available on the market, with many English composers
having composed music in this genre and many conductors having taken a crack at
recording their favorite pieces. Some of those recordings have attained
near-legendary status, foremost among them the recordings by the late Sir John
Barbirolli on EMI. This new Chandos recording from conductor John Wilson and
his hand-picked recording orchestra (string orchestra, in this case) is a
21st-century candidate for entry into the English String Music Hall of Fame,
being outstanding in both performance and engineering.

The first few bars of the
opening of Benjamin Britten’s Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge
immediately establish the commitment and power that the musicians and
engineering team bring to these performances. First you hear the energetic
PLUCKS, then you can virtually see the players DIG IN with their bows as Wilson
gets things off to a bang-up start. If you have ever seen a string orchestra
perform in concert, you are no doubt familiar with how the players really can
become animated as they play, wielding their bows with both passion and
precision. This recording lets you see that in your mind’s eye as they work
their way through music by the four Bs of English music: Britten (1913-1976),
Bridge (1879-1941), Berkeley (1903-1989), and Bliss (1891-1975). As a bonus,
not only are the musicianship and engineering superb, but the liner notes offer
helpful context and commentary on the composers and their compositions. This is
a highly recommendable release in every respect, not just for those who enjoy
string music, although especially for them. You know who you are.

Matthew
Taylor: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 5; Romanza for Strings. Kenneth
Woods, English Symphony Orchestra, BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Nimbus
Alliance NI 6406.

As I
have written before, it is really exciting to discover a composer whose music
just sounds so extraordinarily right to you that you immediately want to
hear more. Such is the case with Matthew Taylor (b. 1964) and the three
remarkable compositions on this supremely satisfying new Nimbus CD. American
conductor Kenneth Woods leads the BBC National Orchestra of Wales in the Symphony
No. 4 and Romanza for Strings, while in Symphony No. 5 he
leads the orchestra of which he is Music Director, the English Symphony
Orchestra. All three compositions make a strong impression, each in a different
way.

Symphony
No. 4 is a one-movement work that features three distinct sections. Taylor
writes in the liner notes that “the work was written in memory of my old friend
and fellow symphonist John McCabe, and is dedicated to John’s widow Monica.
John and I shared many musical enthusiasms, Haydn and Nielsen in particular and
both of these composers made an impact on this work: there is an attempt to
create a Nielsenesque sweep at the start of the first movement and the finale
includes a few pranks which Haydn might have enjoyed. However, there is little
that is consciously elegiac in character as I have always felt that the best
way to pay tribute is to adopt an approach that is essentially celebratory in
spirit. In fact No. 4 is arguably my most friendly symphony so far.”
What I find especially attractive about this work is the way Taylor is able to
use so many elements of the orchestra to provide color and contrast. In this
respect, he reminds me of Mahler, although his music is far different. The
orchestra is large, and the music starts with plenty of energy featuring some
pounding tympani. Overall, though, the music is not typically loud and
overwhelming; rather, it is often intimate and beguiling, especially in its
central adagio, with some especially beautiful playing by the strings and
winds, augmented at times by brass, before the symphony ends with a finale that
is playful and optimistic.

By
contrast, Taylor’s Symphony No. 5 is more serious in tone. Taylor writes
of this symphony that “exposure to the Beethoven’s Fifth at the age of
about five was undoubtedly one of the defining moments in my life. Though
unable to play any musical instrument at that age or grasp what an orchestra
was, I was instantly knocked sideways by the power and expressive force of this
music. Now, almost fifty years later, even if Schumann remains probably my
favorite composer, the life force of Beethoven’s music is a massive influence
when writing large scale instrumental works.” 
It is in the traditional four-movement structure, with the central two
movements each dedicated by the composer to departed friends and the final
movement to Taylor’s mother (who died as he was working on the final pages of
the symphony), which helps to explain the more serious tone. Still, for the
most part, this is not a somber symphony, at least not until the very end. The
first movement has plenty of rhythmic energy and drive with once again (as in Symphony
No 4.) there are moments where Taylor deftly employs small forces to draw
us in to his musical world. The second movement has an aura of mystery, while
the third employs strings and solo flute to create a wistful but slightly
uneasy atmosphere. The finale, marked Adagio, is the longest movement
and the most intense. The ending is particularly affecting, forlornly fading
into nothingness.

Sandwiched
between the two symphonies is the 7-minute Romanza for Strings, an
orchestration of a movement from one of Taylor’s string quartets. It is a
pleasant piece that provides a peaceful interlude before the serious business
of the Symphony No. 5.  

The
sound quality throughout is very good, with excellent frequency balance and
reasonable imaging. The liner notes are interesting in that they feature
remarks by a fellow composer, the conductor, the composer himself, as well as
remarks about the conductor, composer, both orchestras, and even the artist
whose painting graces the cover. Well done, Nimbus!

Bonus Recommendation:

Leaving the realm of orchestral music but
lingering longingly in the music of England, allow me to point out a wonderful
Chandos recording (CHAN 20156) featuring violinist Jennifer Pike and pianist
Martin Roscoe performing sonatas by Elgar and Vaughan Williams along with the
seldom-heard original violin and piano version of that incredibly lovely
composition by Vaughan Williams, The Lark Ascending. Both these
composers are more well-known for their large-scale works but both were capable
of expressing themselves in a chamber music setting, as this CD amply
demonstrates. This is music that goes straight to the heart while soothing the
mind and healing the spirit.

KWN