Recent Releases, No. 11 (CD Mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Brahms: Symphony No. 3; Serenade No. 2.
Iván Fischer, Budapest Festival Orchestra. Channel Classics CCS SA 43821.

I will say at the outset that this is a truly fine recording
and performance of the Brahms symphony and serenade; seriously, if you read any
further, you may be left scratching your head and wondering what the heck my
problem is. Believe me, good reader, the problem is mine, not yours, nor
Channel Classics, nor Maestro Fischer’s (who with the same orchestra has made
some dynamite Mahler recordings). In an event, I have rarely been able to find
recordings of Brahms symphonies with which I am truly satisfied (that list – a
rather short one indeed – consists of Klemperer in No. 1, Karajan and
Walter in No. 3, and Walter and Stokowski in No. 4). The
engineering on this new Channel release is superior to either of my two
favorites (I listened to the stereo CD layer of this SACD disc, which also
contains a 5.0 surround mix for those so inclined and equipped). (As far as the
Serenade No. 2, I will withhold any comment, for this is music I have
tried repeatedly over the years to develop any sort of feeling for without any
success.) Although the Budapest Festival Orchestra sounds splendid on this
recording, what holds me back from giving it my own enthusiastic recommendation
is a certain feeling of squareness, of liveliness, of spontaneity. For my taste
at least, Fischer just seems too earthbound. All the notes are there, but he
does not quite make them sing or dance or come completely to life. But in my
experience, very few conductors do, and again, the sound quality is excellent,
so this release is certainly well worth an audition by Brahmsians more
broadminded than I.

Glass-Sandresky: Strange Energies. Sandresky: Flowing
Water Encounters Obstacles; Nor'easter; What's Left; Fear;
Force; Waves; Laughter. Glass: Etudes Nos. 2, 9, 12, 16.
     
Eleonor Sandresky, piano. Orange Mountain Music OMM 7019.

Eleonor Sandresky is a pianist who has worked closely with
composer Philip Glass for than three decades and has often performed with the
Philip Glass Ensemble. Her works for the piano as presented on this recording,
however, do not sound like warmed-over Glass. They are more expressive, more
varied in style and mood. On her website, Sandresky says of this music that “I
began composing these pieces back in 2012 as a way to try to capture various
properties of sound: how it dies away, how it travels, where I feel it in my
body, etc. With each of these pieces, I have tried to explore a different set
of parameters for the performer and the audience. These are as much etudes for
the audience to listen with specific intention as they are for the pianist!”
Although the music of Glass that concludes the album by comparison seems more
buttoned-down emotionally, the piano music of Glass can be fascinating, even
spellbinding, and Sandresky does a fine job of drawing out the “strange
energies” that lie below the surface of what can come across as shallow and
repetitive music. This CD was one of those library finds that I hesitated to
audition, having never having heard of Sandresky, but in the end I was glad I
took the chance. If you are a fan of piano music, I invite you to do the same.

Reflections.
Vikingur Ólafsson, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 00289 483 9222.
 

This new album from Icelandic pianist Vikingur Ólafsson is something of
a follow-up to an album that we reviewed last year (that review can be found here).
This time around, however, what we have is not a straightforward recital by
Ólafsson of music by Debussy and Rameau, but rather some cuts featuring
Ólafsson on the piano along with a variety of other musicians and sonorities.
Ólafsson says of his aims in putting this project together: "I wanted to
explore certain works from fresh perspectives, to reimagine them and invite
other composers to rework elements of these extraordinary pieces... In addition
to my own new recordings and material, this album features wonderful artists
from different directions who have used my recordings from the Debussy-Rameau
album as material for their own highly original works. They have opened my ears
to new, fascinating paths and for that I am immensely grateful." Those new
paths and sounds include the use of some electronic manipulation of sounds,
synthesizers, guitars, percussion - this might sound quite daunting, but
overall, the sounds produced are quite tasteful. The most jarring sound to my
ears was the inclusion of a human voice on one cut. The sound of the voice was
not in itself jarring, it was just unexpected on what is otherwise an
instrumental album. Still, the best cuts on the albums were those featuring
Ólafsson on the piano, of which fortunately there are quite a few, the most
amazing of which is Track 8, titled Reflection, which is an improvisation on
Debussy's Bruyères, the piece with which Ólafsson also opens and closes the
album. The only fly in the ointment is the recorded sound, as some of the
Ólafsson tracks were apparently recorded during pandemic lockdown under less
than ideal circumstances and there are some extraneous noises that some
listeners might find an unwelcome distraction. The other tracks are just fine.
All in all, Reflections is a fascinating and imaginative release.

The Tower and the Garden: Toivo Tulev: A child
said, what is the grass?; Gregory Spears: The Tower and the Garden;
Joel Puckett: I enter the earth; Donald Nally, The Crossing. Navona
NV6303.

The Crossing is a professional chamber choir
that specializes in new music. They have made a number of recordings and picked
up Grammy Awards for Best Choral Performance of 2018 for their recording of The
Fifth Century by Gavin Bryars and 2019 for their recording of Zealot
Chronicles by Lansing McCloskey. The three compositions on The Tower and
the Garden each have a different overall sonority and sonic signature to
them; ideally, that means listeners will be bound to find a sound they really
like (reminiscent of the old Jimmy Dean restaurant television commercials –
remember them? – “we’ll treat you so many ways you’re bound to like one of
‘em!). First up is A child said, what is the grass? by Estonian
composer Toivo Tulev (b. 1958), which features some relatively mild dissonances
but not to the point of annoyance. Next up is the title piece, The Tower and
the Garden by American composer Gregory Spears (b. 1977), which consists of
four movements. On this piece, the sound of the choir is augmented by the sound
of a string quartet, producing a rich sonic rich tapestry. For the final
composition, I enter the earth by American composer Joel Puckett (b.
1977), The Crossing produce some truly enticing harmonies, leaving the listener
with a sense of serenity and inspiration.

KWN

R. Strauss: Ein Heldenleben (CD review)

Also, Burleske. Bertrand Chamayou, piano; Antonio
Pappano, Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia. Warner Classics
190295028459.

By John J. Puccio

Richard Strauss (1864-1949), the German composer and
conductor of so many lengthy symphonic tone poems wrote Ein Heldenleben
(“A Hero’s Life”) in 1898 or thereabouts as a tongue-in-cheek autobiography, a
semi-serious portrait of himself. Strauss was only thirty-four years old at the
time, so you can see what self-confidence he must have had by writing so
whimsical a life story at so early an age. He seems to have written it
primarily, though, to get in a few digs at his critics, whom he convincingly
silences through the music. Antonio Pappano and the Orchestra dell’Accademia
Nazionale di Santa Cecilia give it their all in a big, robustly imposing live
performance.

Strauss divided Ein Heldenleben into seven parts
that describe seven stages in the artist’s life. The first segment, “The Hero,”
obviously describes Strauss himself and does so on a large, swashbuckling
scale. Here, the music is dashing and needs to be presented with plenty of
panache. Next, the music turns to “The Hero’s Adversaries,” his critics, where
we hear them squabbling among themselves in amusing fashion, their
trivialities, to be sure, yet their possibly sinister nature as well. Following
that is “The Hero’s Companion,” his wife, whom the violinist sweetly defines in
solo. Then in the ensuing “Love Scene” we find not only a loving, harmonious
wife but an apparently complex one.

Maestro Pappano takes the big sections, like the opening,
in a grand, full-blooded manner. It loses subtlety but makes up for it in
grandeur. The Hero’s wife, played by solo violin, is nicely done, with fine
inflection and feeling. While I’d like to single out this solo violinist, the
booklet notes don’t indicate who it is. I will assume it was the concertmaster,
Roberto Gonzalez-Monjas. Well done, sir.

“The Hero’s Battlefield” is the centerpiece of the work,
where Strauss engages in all-out war with his critics, reminding them
(musically) of his accomplishments with bits from his own Don Juan and Also
sprach Zarathustra, as well as a few horns from Beethoven’s Eroica
Symphony. It’s music filled with urgency and excitement but should not be
hectic or bombastic. Here, I would have liked more impetus, even more energy
from Pappano. Still, the recording makes up for any lack of muscularity in the
performance with plenty of bite and impact in the sound.

“The Hero’s Works of Peace” is another slow movement,
again a remembrance of the composer’s previous tone poems as an almost-final
rebuke of his foes. After that, the work closes with “The Hero’s Retirement
from the World and His Fulfillment,” the longest movement, a concluding note of
possible contentment and repose for a life of art well spent. Remember, this is
coming from a fellow who at the time was relatively young, so Strauss no doubt
meant it more than a bit ironically, maybe sarcastically. I liked these final
sections in Maestro Pappano’s hands more than I did his treatment of the first
parts. He seems more in the spirit of the proceedings as things go along.

Coupled with Heldenleben Maestro Pappano has chosen
another Strauss work, the shorter Burleske in D minor for piano and
orchestra (1885-86), with pianist Bertrand Chamayou. It’s an early work,
written by Strauss when he was twenty-one. Originally, Strauss had written it
for pianist and conductor Hans von Bulow, who thought it a “complicated piece
of nonsense,” with an unplayable piano part, and refused to perform it. Well,
the title translates into “farce” or “mockery,” so what did he expect? It
eventually became one of Strauss’s personal favorite works. Chamayou handles
the solo piano with appropriate flair, and Pappano’s accompaniment follows in a
like manner. The music is fun, and Chamayou and Pappano seem to be enjoying
themselves.

Producer and engineer Giacomo De Caterini recorded Ein
Heldenleben live at the Auditorium Parco della musica, Rome in January 2018
and Burleske in October 2020. Because the engineer recorded Heldenleben
live, it’s rather close-up and without much orchestral depth. It also appears
slightly dull for some reason. There are, however, compensating dynamic and
frequency ranges of strength and width that help Strauss’s heroic music come
alive. The Burleske comes off much better sonically. It sounds more
robust and a little more dimensional.

JJP

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

Recent Releases, No. 10 (CD Mini-Reviews)

By Karl W.
Nehring

Rachmaninoff:
Symphony No. 1; Symphonic Dances. Yannick Nézet-Séguin, The Philadelphia
Orchestra. Deutsche Grammophon 483 9839.

One of the
pleasures of following Classical Candor is reading reviews by fellow
reviewers John Puccio and Bill Heck not only to enjoy their insights and
recommendations about various recordings but also to delight in their deft and
descriptive deployment of the English language. They always seem to find just
the right words with which to craft their insightful and delightful prose. In
sad contrast to those distinguished gentlemen, after listening to this new
recording numerous times all I can say is that the music, the performances, and
the and the engineering are all totally kickass. Rachmaninoff’s Symphony
No. 1 suffered a disastrous first public performance in 1897 by an
ill-prepared orchestra conducted badly by an apparently drunken Alexander
Glazunov. The resultant fiasco and humiliating press coverage so unnerved Rachmaninoff
that he suffered a nervous breakdown that stifled his creative energy for three
years. But in this recording we have the “Fabulous Philadelphians” at the
height of their powers under the baton of a conductor in full possession of his
faculties; together, they make a persuasive case indeed for this oft-overlooked
symphony, a work full of passion and excitement. Its disc-mate is the more
widely known Symphonic Dances, a rousing piece that has long been a
favorite of audiophiles. Old-timers may remember the old Donald Johanos/Dallas
Symphony recording, one that seemed exciting at the time, especially in light
of its being on a budget label, but in retrospect was maybe not really all that
great (the low price may have perhaps tainted our judgment). Other audiophiles
might have fond memories of the David Zinman/Baltimore Symphonic Dances
on Telarc, which still sounds darned good. Whatever your preference might be,
this new DG recording is right up there with the best in terms of both sonics
and performance, with plenty of energy in both those dimensions (and with, yes,
Telarc-worthy bass). As I said above, kickass. Enough said…     

Pat Metheny: Road
to the Sun. Metheny: Four Paths of Light; Road to the Sun;
Arvo Part: Fur Alina. Jason Vieaux and Pat Metheny, guitar; Los Angeles
Guitar Quartet (John Dearman, Matthew Greif, William Kanengiser, Scott
Tennant). Modern Recordings 538639322.

The first
concert I ever took my young sons to was the Pat Metheny Group sometime back in
the early 80s – may even have been the late 70s. Over the ensuing decades,
Metheny has made some memorable music, never resting on his laurels or content
to play his familiar tunes over and over again, always striving to create
something new, pushing himself as a composer and arranger as well as a
guitarist. From his earlier albums with his Pat Metheny Group (Still Life
Talking and We Live Here are noteworthy examples highlighting his
melodic gift, along with that of his gifted keyboard companion, the late Lyle
Mays) through his ultimate album with that group, The Way Up, which is
virtually a through-composed symphonic piece by Metheny that strains against
the limitations of a small jazz ensemble, Metheny followers could sense that he
was more than just a guitarist, he was a composer whose chosen instrument was
the guitar. Then in 2020 he returned to the studio with a new group to release From
This Place, a flowingly lyrical album that included some symphonic
accompaniment. At 76 minutes, it was an amazing achievement, emphasizing once again
Metheny’s gift for composition as well as his prowess on the guitar.

Each month, the
final page of BBC Music Magazine features an interview titled “Music
That Changed Me,” in which some public figure, typically someone connected with
the arts, is asked about the music that has had a significant influence in the
course of their life. Imagine my surprise – and joy! – when I reached the final
page of the most recent issue to reach my humble abode (May 2021) and saw a
photo of a smiling, curly-headed American guitarist by the name of Pat Metheny.
What a wonderful surprise! The interviewees are always asked to list a few key
recordings, and Metheny’s list of five pieces began with three that were not
particularly surprising: “And I Love Her” by the Beatles (as a teenager he
loved George Harrison’s guitar work, and later in his career he recorded the
piece himself on acoustic guitar), “Seven Step to Heaven” by Miles Davis
(Metheny says that his brother brought home Davis’s Four and More album
and that “hearing this cut was like being hit over the head by a two-by-four,
and instant life-changing moment. At the time I didn’t know anything about form
and chord changes, I just heard the sound…”), and Wes Montgomery’s “If You
Could See Me Now” (which Metheny says contains “the greatest guitar solo of all
time, including Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page and Segovia”). His next selection was
something of a surprise, Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians (Metheny
notes that “among the best phone calls I ever got was Steve Reich asking me to
play his solo work for electric guitar, Electric Counterpoint. I’d been
a fan for years: his Music for 18 Musicians changed everything – Steve
had somehow captured the worldwide polar-magnetic shift from triple to duple
time”). But it was his final choice that really surprised me, none other than
Furtwangler’s recording of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde (“Filling in
blanks, particularly in the world of written music, is an ongoing process for
me. I’m lucky to live across the street from Lincoln Center in New York and I
had the chance to see Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde conducted by Sir Simon Rattle
at the Met. It was a life-changing experience to rival ‘Seven Steps to Heaven.’
I knew the piece because it is famous in my world as being this four-hour
exploration of a minor seventh, flat five chord, of the ‘Tristan’ chord. I went
three night in a row, and each night it just got better”). I really did not see
that one coming…

Something else
that I did not see coming was that the next recording that Metheny would
release after From This Place would be his first release ever to feature
his work not as a performer, but rather as a composer. The album leads off with
classical guitarist Jason Vieaux performing a Metheny composition for solo
guitar titled Four Paths of Light. Naturally enough, the composition
comprises four parts, each possessing a depth of expression and emotion that
long-time listeners of Metheny’s music will recognize; however, Vieaux’s style
of playing and the sound of his guitar does come across as more traditionally
classical most of the time – still, there are passages where you can really
hear Metheny ringing through. The next composition is the title piece, Road
to the Sun, a six-part work written for and performed by the Los Angeles
Guitar Quartet (with some “guest strumming” by Metheny on a couple of the
parts). This is of course a more ambitious undertaking, more complex in
structure, more formal sounding, but not without phrases that make you think
that yes, this sounds like something that Pat Metheny could have composed. It
truly is a delightful work, one that rewards repeated listening.

The album closes
with a bonus track, and once again I can honestly say that just like I never
see it coming that Pat Metheny would list Furtwangler conducting Tristan and
Isolde as one of his favorite recordings, neither did I ever foresee him
playing an Arvo Pärt tune on one of his recordings, but Road to the
Sun concludes with Metheny offering a haunting version of Pärt’s Für
Alina on his custom-made 42-string guitar. My friends, hearing Pat Metheny,
one of my all-time favorite musicians, play the music of Arvo Pärt, one of my
all-time favorite composers, on his amazing instrument with its incredible
range of sounds made me feel that my life was now complete and had not been
lived entirely in vain. To be sure, this recording may not have anywhere near
the same profound sort of spiritual effect on you, but still, there is some
genuinely fine music here that I can recommend without reservation.       

Bonus
Recommendation:

Images of
Metheny. Jason
Vieaux, guitar. Azica Records ACD 71233.

On this
recording from 2005, classical guitarist Jason Vieaux presents 13 songs by Pat
Metheny in arrangements for classical guitar, including taking five songs and
arranging them into the form of a baroque suite. Unfortunately, the CD is now
hard to find; it can be streamed, however, for those so inclined. 

KWN

Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto (Digital DL review)

Also, Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto. Jascha Heifetz,
violin; Fritz Reiner, Chicago Symphony Orchestra; Charles Munch, Boston
Symphony Orchestra. HDTT Direct Stream Digital and DXD PCM FLAC downloads.

By John J. Puccio

Let me begin with a few personal opinions and observations
so you know where my biases lie.

First, I think Jascha Heifetz is one of the greatest
violinists of the stereo age. Maybe the greatest violinist of any age.
Yes, there are some fine runners up, like Itzhak Perlman, Nathan Milstein,
Arthur Grumiaux, Yehudi Menuhin, Henryk Szeryng, Isaac Stern, and others. And
certainly there are any number of contemporary musicians who may, in time, lay
claim to the title. In any case, it’s always a pleasure to review something by
Heifetz. (These HDTT remasters were originally recorded in the late Fifties.)

Second, I do have slightly mixed feelings about these
particular Heifetz recordings of the Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohn concertos. I
have always thought Heifetz’s Tchaikovsky was unsurpassed for its performance,
but I’ve never cared overmuch for the sound. With the Mendelssohn I always
found the sound acceptable but thought the performance a bit rushed.
Nevertheless, they are both well worth owning.

Third, I have no horse in the vinyl vs. compact disc vs.
digital streaming vs. digital download races. I’m sure there are excellent
examples of superb sound in each format. For me, the fact that I listened to
these Heifetz performances via Direct Stream Digital DSD and DXL PCM FLAC
downloads is immaterial to my preference in formats. Whatever sounds best is
what I enjoy, so I try to look for whatever I haven’t heard, make comparisons,
and not generalize too much about what is always going to be best.

Now, about the performances: The program begins with the Violin
Concerto in D major, Op. 35 by Peter Tchaikovsky (1840-1893). He wrote it
in 1878 during a time when he was trying to recover from a bout of depression.
Some critics of the day found the work wanting, one of them going so far as to
say that it sounded "long and pretentious" and that it "brought
us face to face with the revolting thought that music can exist which stinks to
the ear." Thank heaven for the passage of time and the eventual validation
of the work as a classic of the repertoire.

As with most concertos, Tchaikovsky’s piece begins with an
Allegro, in this case taken at an appropriately healthy tempo, followed
by a slow middle section Andante and then, without a break, a spirited Allegro
vivacissimo. I doubt that anyone could argue against the Heifetz
performance. He generates more excitement than probably any violinist in
history. Still, he’s not all flash, and he handles the Andante with
infinite care before concluding with a dazzling finish. Heifetz plays the piece
with authority. It’s beautiful.

The other piece on the agenda is the Violin Concerto
No. 2 in E minor, Op. 64 by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) The composer
premiered it in 1845, just two years before his early death, and it would be
the last big orchestral work of his lifetime. Fortunately, he went out in
style, the concerto being among the most popular in the violin repertoire. The
work consists of three fairly standard movements, but it was inventive in its
day in that the violin appears almost immediately, and the movements are played
without pause. In this concerto, Heifetz again puts on a blazing display of
virtuosity, and while it can be fun in most respects, it may also be overkill.
Some would say Mendelssohn needs a lighter, gentler touch.

Producer John Pfeiffer and engineer Lewis Layton recorded
the Tchaikovsky at Orchestra Hall, Chicago in April 1957. Producer Pfeiffer and
engineer John Crawford recorded the Mendelssohn at Orchestra Hall, Boston in
February 1959. HDTT remastered the recordings in a variety of download formats
including DSD128 (Direct Stream Digital), 24/352 8 DXD PCM FLAC digital, DSD64,
24/192 PCM, and 24/96 PCM, plus a variety of DVD Audio and CD configurations on
physical disc. I listened to the DSD128 and 24/352 8 DXD PCM FLAC downloads.

During my listening sessions, I couldn’t help compare
apples to oranges. I had on my shelf two longtime favorite CDs of these Heifetz
recordings from JVC (Japanese Victor Company) using their meticulous XRCD processing.
So I brought them down for a direct A-B comparison with the HDTT products.
Which is unfair, I know, because JVC used the original RCA master tapes, and
HDTT used commercially available tapes. Therefore, the reader should draw no
absolute conclusions from my listening.

The differences, though, were quite apparent between the
HDTT DSD download and the JVC discs, even after much fiddling with the volume
to adjust each source to within a decibel of one another. HDTT tells us ahead
of time what to expect, so I’ll quote from their Web site: “Because of the
limited editing capability of DSD, to keep it ‘Pure DSD’ with no PCM used, you
could hear blemishes from the original tape source that would be normally
edited out in a PCM release.” In the case of the Tchaikovsky and the
Mendelssohn, both recorded in the late 1950’s, HDTT retained not
only”blemishes” but the original tape hiss, which was quite noticeabe in the
Tchaikovsky and especially in the DSD format. JVC apparently used some sort of
noise-reduction process to edit out the tape hiss, making their CD’s
considerably quieter. However, the HDTT transfers appear to have retained much
of the dynamic range of the originals. They’re just noisier, which is
unfortunate. On the other hand, once adjusting one’s ears to the HDTT hiss, the
JVC discs could sound downright dull for a moment, until one got used to the
quieter sonics. The Mendelssohn sounded better than the Tchaikovsky all the way
around in both HDTT download formats as well as on the JVC discs, with a better
balance between the soloist and orchestra and a generally warmer, fuller
presentation.

In any case, the HDTT transfers sounded fine, if not as
easy on the ears as the JVC discs (which I’m not sure are available anymore).
Yet, the fact remains that neither of these recordings--neither the Tchaikovsky
nor the Mendelssohn--was ever the ultimate in sound to begin with. The close-up
violin in the Tchaikovsky, for instance, can be annoying given the quality of
the performance.

Bottom line: In the absence of the JVC XRCD’s, the HDTT
transfers may be a person’s best bet for sound. The DSD download is slightly
the better sounding if you can put up with the tape hiss. The DXD PCM FLAC,
however, may be the optimum compromise: good sound with less hiss. Finally, if
you are unable to play back digital downloads at all, HDTT offers various CD
transfers that will do nicely, and they have the advantage of HDTT having
cleared them of most tape noise.

Both of these Heifetz performances--the Tchaikovsky and
the Mendelssohn--remain among the finest ever recorded, and I would advise
anyone to seek them out in whatever format is available.

For complete information on HDTT products, visit their Web
site at https://www.highdeftapetransfers.com/

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from the DXD FLAC download, click below:

The See Within (CD review)

Echo Collective. 7K! 7K024CD.

By Karl W. Nehring

Readers who have followed Classical Candor for a
while might remember the Brussels-based musicians Echo Collective from our review
of their DG release 12 Conversations with Thilo Heinzmann, music
composed by the late Jóhann Jóhannsson. They have had an interesting and varied
career, performing in concert settings in support of  artists such as Jóhannsson and A Winged Victory For The Sullen.
They have also lent their interpretative talents to releases by themselves and
others and others in musical genres as diverse as alt.rock, synth-pop, and
black metal. Classical music fans need not worry, however, because The See
Within, which is Echo Collective’s first album comprising their own
original material (one of their previous releases, for example, was their
instrumental version of Radiohead’s Amnesiac). Although The See Within is clearly contemporary
in outlook, is fits without too awkward a stretch into the Western “classical”
chamber music tradition.

The music is scored for violin, viola, cello, harp and, in its first appearance
on a commercially released album recording, the magnetic resonator piano (MRP).
“All sounds are acoustic, and produced in real time,” explain Echo Collective
co-founders Margaret Hermant (violin, harp) and Neil Leiter (viola). “No
processing or post-production other than reverb. The acoustic element is Echo
Collective’s identity. A natural sound.”

The MRP, of which only one currently exists (built by its
inventor, Andrew MacPherson), is something else again. I listened to the CD
several times and assumed that there must be some subtle electronic instrumentation
involved, some sort of synthesizer or perhaps electronic processing of the
sound produced by a piano and perhaps some other instruments, although overall
most of the sounds seemed quite natural. Only later did I do a little
investigation and learn that all the sounds on the recording were acoustic.
What I thought were synthesized tones were produced acoustically by the MRP, in
which powerful electromagnets fitted to an acoustic piano – “imagine the effect
of a giant E-bow” suggests Hermant – and an extra pedal prolong the notes,
creating the kind of sustain and crescendos that can be achieved with strings.
The MRP preserves all the sounds and techniques of the acoustic piano, while
expanding its range of sounds to include things such as infinite sustain,
crescendos (including crescendos from silence), harmonics on each string, new
timbres that can be shaped in real time, and subtle pitch bends. Leiter
explains that “in contrast to the conventional (hammer-actuated) piano sound,
the sounds of the MRP are pure and ethereal, emphasizing the fundamental
frequency of each string over its high partials. We discovered the MRP about
six months before recording the album. It allowed us to give piano and strings
equal expression, and to present a unified acoustic sound, since any drone
effect on a piano is usually reliant on electronics. It’s been fascinating to
take a traditional instrument and set it free.”

The MRP is played by Gary De Cart, The See Within’s
third composer alongside Hermant and Leiter, while the album’s fourth musician,
cellist Charlotte Danhier, is credited with co-writing the title track. Both De
Cart and Danhier are regular members of the fluctuating collective, but the
core of the ensemble is its two founders.

The opening cut, “Inflection Point,” sounds like fairly
straightforward chamber music, with some subtle use of the MRP, while the
second cut, “The See Within,” begins to let us hear what the MRP is capable of,
creating some interesting sustains in the lower strings of the piano as a foundation
for the sounds of the violin and harp above.

In the third cut, “From Last Night’s Rain,” we hear chords
on the piano in addition to some other occasional effects. However, I should
not over-emphasize the MRP; in truth, it is an integrated part of a true
chamber ensemble, and there is much more to this music than just the sound of
this instrument, which I have focused on because of its unusual nature, not
because it has in any way dominated the sound of the music. At least to my
mind’s ear (or ear’s mind), cut 4, “The Witching Hour,” expresses longing
mingled with apprehension. It is a focused and convincing piece of music.    

Cut 5, “Glitch,” opens with some unusual sounds that
resemble the calls of dolphins. As the music progresses, the listener can
perhaps imagine it being part of the soundtrack for some psychological
thriller. The next piece, “Unknown Gates,” gives prominence to the harp with
support from the MRP. It really does function as something of a gateway,
bringing us to the major composition on the album, the 11-minute “Respire.”
This truly is a remarkable piece of music, calling upon the sounds of the MRP,
the cello, the violin, and the harp to evoke feelings of calm, joy, peace, and
wonder. Listen, breathe, behold, be calm, be well. The final track, “First
Brightening,” turns the energy level up a notch or two. After all, we must not
be content to sit and be well, we must stand and do good, bringing about some
brightening.

All in all, The See Within is a musical breath of
fresh air blowing in from Brussels. Give this remarkable album an audition and
be amazed, as was I, that all the sounds you hear are produced by acoustic
instruments. I look eagerly forward to future releases by this remarkable
ensemble, regardless of musical genre. Brava and bravo! 

KWN

Beethoven: Violin Concerto (SACD review)

Also, Schnittke: Violin Concerto No. 3. Vadim Gluzman,
violin; James Gaffigan, Luzerner Sinfonieorchester. BIS 2392.

By John J. Puccio

Another Beethoven Violin Concerto? Well, it’s a popular
piece. Every violinist with aspirations of greatness must play and record it.
And the obsessive Beethoven or classical collector can never get enough of
anything. So where there’s a need, there’s someone to fill it. Fortunately,
this one is pretty good, with Ukrainian-born Israeli violinist Vadim Gluzman
accompanied by conductor James Gaffigan and the Lucerne Symphony Orchestra.

Beethoven wrote the Concerto for Violin and Orchestra
in D major in 1806. It received an unfavorable première, and the composer
practically shelved it for the rest of his life, never publishing another
violin concerto again. The world would have to wait until 1844 before violinist
Joseph Joachim and conductor and composer Felix Mendelssohn revived the work,
and, needless to say, it has been one of the most important concertos in the
genre ever since.

The work begins with a lengthy and fairly laid-back
introduction before the violin finally enters with a flourish. A slow, central Larghetto
follows, with a lively Rondo to cap things off. Gluzman measures up well
to most other soloists in this work, his tempos and spirit well judged. There
is nothing revolutionary about his playing; it’s simply exciting and vigorous
when it needs to be; lyrical and melodious when it needs to be (the Larghetto
wins the day); and straightforward and affecting when it needs to be. It’s a
performance that’s never pushy yet never boring. I wouldn’t put it in the
Heifetz category, but it’s genial and pleasing enough, and the smoothness of
its recording is quite a lot better than most.

Paired with the Beethoven Violin Concerto is the Concerto
No. 3 for violin and chamber orchestra by the Soviet-German composer Alfred
Schnittke (1934-98). Why Schnittke? Probably because of the cadenzas he wrote
for the Beethoven piece. We go from cadenzas to concerto. Simple.

Schnittke wrote his Third Violin Concerto in 1978
for Soviet violinist Oleg Kagan, and, not surprisingly, the cadenza plays an
important role in the music making. In fact, the work opens with an extended
cadenza, the soloist finally joined by winds. Although the whole piece seems
more eccentric to me than musically satisfying, it makes a fascinating listen
all the same. It holds one’s attention, while never entirely engaging one’s
sympathy or affection. Schnittke’s concerto is a kind of tour-de-force for the
soloist, who is almost the entire show. There’s not a lot of dialogue between
the violinist and the accompanists at first; they are there merely to hold up
the tent. Nevertheless, by the second movement they all join in and work
splendidly together, with even a string quartet eventually getting in on the
act. Throughout, Gluzman’s playing is impeccable.

Producer Martin Nagorni and engineers Fabian Frank
(Schnittke) and Thore Brinkmann (Beethoven) recorded the music at the Kultur
und Kongresszentrum Luzern, Seitzerland in November 2017 (Schnittke) and
December 2019 (Beethoven). They made it for hybrid SACD/CD playback, meaning
that if you have an SACD player, you can enjoy the music in either two-channel
or multichannel playback, and if you have a regular CD player, you can enjoy
the regular two-channel CD layer. I listened in two-channel SACD.

Either way, CD or SACD, the sound is quite satisfying.
Indeed, you could hardly improve upon it. It’s big and warm and robust, without
a trace of brightness or edge. Perhaps the soloist could have been better
centered, I dunno. The dynamic range is wide; the impact is solid; hall
resonance is realistic; transparency is fine; and frequency extremes are more
than adequate. Enjoyable listening.

JJP

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

Recent New Releases, No. 9 (CD Mini-Reviews)

By Karl W.
Nehring

Albores: Dino Saluzzi, bandoneon. ECM 2638 774
7754.

Dino Saluzzi
(b. 1935) is a master of the bandoneon, an accordion-like instrument most often
associated with the tango. However, the music on Albores, consisting of
nine compositions by Saluzzi, is not tango music, as we can infer from a glance
at the back cover. The title of the first track, Adiós Maestro Kancheli, is
a reference to Georgian composer Giya Kancheli (1935-2019), whose music was
sprawling, eruptive, disruptive, and highly charged. Saluzzi’s dedication
reads: “Dear Maestro and friend, your wonderful music will always remain with
me. It was a great honor to get to know you.” This and the other eight
compositions on Albores are in a serious, probing, deeply reflective
vein, drawing the listener in as if listening to an intense movement from a
late Beethoven string quartet or Schubert piano sonata. Saluzzi is not dashing
off tunes for mere entertainment, but making music for contemplation and
aesthetic uplift. Beautiful, inspiring music; however, every rose has its thorn
– the sound of the bandoneon, while rich and complex in its own way, also
includes clicking and popping from the keys and buttons that may cause you to
think your CD player is mistracking at times. If you can get past that, you
will be richly rewarded.

Arvo Pärt: Miserere.
Which Was the Son of…; Festina lente; Tribute to Caesar; Sequentia;
The Deer’s Cry; Miserere; And I Heard a Voice…. Howard
Arman, Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks; Münchner Rundfunkorchester;
oestereichisches ensemble fuer neue music. BR Klassik 900527.

One of the
consolations of having to spend so much time at home because of the pandemic
has been the opportunity to have more time to enjoy beautiful recordings such
as this. The choral music of Estonian composer Arvo Pärt (b. 1935) is always a
joy to hear, and especially so when it is so expertly performed and recorded as
it is on this new collection featuring the Bavarian Radio Chorus. And speaking
of the pandemic, the liner notes explain the ‘Happy Birthday, Arvo Pärt!’ was
the title of the first choir subscription concert of the 2020/21 season, at
which Pärt’s 85^th birthday was to have been celebrated – with the
composer himself actually present. Indeed, it could have been a double
birthday, since the Bavarian Radio Chorus is also celebrating its 75^th
anniversary. But everything turned out differently. Arvo Pärt stayed at home,
as did the concert audience. The singers and their artistic director Howard
Arman remained at their posts, albeit with the respectful social distancing
required by the coronavirus. Also on hand behind their glass screens, were the
sound engineer and his team, who recorded a significant part of the present CD
edition.” Although it may have been a big disappointment not to have a live
concert, in the end we music lovers at home have ended up being the
beneficiaries, as the resultant recording, with all but the performance of Miserere
being captured in studio settings rather than live concert performances,
are extremely well recorded, making this release a sonic as well as musical
delight. The excellent liner booklet that includes texts makes this a
first-class release in every respect.

Glass: Les
Enfants Terribles; Etudes Nos. 17 and 20. Katia and Marielle LaBéque,
piano. Deutsche Grammophon 4855097.

Katia (b.
1950) and Marielle (b. 1952) Labèque are French sisters who have been making
recordings and performing for more than five decades across a variety of
genres, even including a stint with jazz guitarist John McLaughlin, with whom
Katia was romantically linked for several years in the 1980s. The sisters  have played jazz, baroque, ragtime, and both
mainstream and contemporary classical music. In 2005, they performed the world
premiere of Philip Glass’s Double Concerto for two pianos, which the
composer dedicated to the sisters. More recently, Glass requested that his
longtime collaborator and arranger Michael Riesman put together a two-piano
suite based on Glass’s opera Les Enfants Terribles. Those familiar
with the music of Philip Glass know that he falls into the “minimalist” camp;
however, this suite for two pianos is in places boisterous, dramatic, and
exciting, played with flair and power, while at other times reflective and
brooding, played with sensitivity and finesse. For a video glimpse of the
sisters playing this music, you can catch a glimpse here. The
program is rounded out with solo performances by Marielle of Glass’s Etude
No. 17 and Katia of his Etude No. 20. The former is charming,
expressive – Glass’s piano music shows him at his best – while the latter seems
to reveal another dimension of expression that transcends minimalism, Glass’s music
extending into another dimension and bringing the listener along for the
ride.  

Songs
from Home: Fred
Hersch, piano. Palmetto PM2197.

This is
another of those musical efforts that in some respects we owe to the COVID-19
pandemic. Jazz pianist Fred Hersch recorded this solo piano album in his own
home on his own piano and is now sharing it with us for our enjoyment while we
are still trying to get the upper hand in our ongoing battle with the
coronavirus. This truly is an entertaining collection of music both familiar,
with renditions of tunes including but not limited to  “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly,” “Wichita Lineman,” Joni Mitchell’s “All
I Want,” and an original by Hersch. The piano he uses is not perfect, but the
resultant sound just adds to the personal feel. The music is familiar, although
played with a personal flair, and the overall feeling is one of great intimacy
and direct communication. I played it one evening when my wife was at home, and
from the other room she commented, “that CD you’re playing makes me feel like
we are having a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant with a really good piano
player taking requests and making sure everybody is having a memorable evening.
That’s really nice – who is it?” Yes, Songs from Home truly is a
feel-good CD, and by the time you get to the final cut, “When I’m Sixty-four,”
you will have had a memorable listening experience thanks to the musical
mastery and communicative spirit of Maestro Hersch.

Vida
Breve:
Bach/Busoni: Chaconne from Partita No 2 in D minor BWV 1004; Chopin: Piano
Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor; Liszt: Funérailles from Harmonies
poétiques et religieuses; Bagatelle sans tonalite; Busoni: Kammer-Fantasie
über Carmen; Hough: Piano Sonata No. 4 ‘Vida Breve’:
Traditional/Hough: Arirang. Steven Hough. Piano. Hyperion CDA68260.

As you might
be led to infer by the titles of the CD itself and some of the selections, and
the inclusion of the Chopin funeral march, this program by British pianist
Stephen Hough is not all sweetness and light. That said, there is beauty to be
found here, in the music, the playing, and in the recorded sound, which is a
bit on the distant but warm side, which seems just right for the reflective
mood that Hough seems to be inviting us to enter as we contemplate one of the bedrock
certainties of life, as he explains: “People are often reluctant to talk about
death… but in the world of the arts – in painting, literature, and music –
death has always been a central subject resulting in the most exalted and
inexhaustible expression, the image of a dead man hanging on a cross arguably
the fundamental icon of Western culture… On this recording I wanted to explore
some pieces that have this theme as part of their identity or inspiration.” But
no, you do not have to ponder your mortality as you listen to this recording,
for this is beautiful music that can be enjoyed for what it is, beautiful
music, beautifully performed and recorded, bringing joy to your life for 78
beautiful minutes.   

Villa-Lobos: Choral
Transcriptions. Mendelssohn: Lieder ohne Worte, Book 2-No.9 in E major;
Bach: Prelude and Fugue No. 8 in E flat minor/D sharp minor BWV 853;
Schumann: Traumerei; Bach: Fugue No. 1 in C major, BWV 846;
Schubert: Ständchen; Bach: Fugue No. 21 in B flat major, BWV 866;
Chopin: Waltz No. 7 in C sharp minor; Bach: Prelude No. 22 in B flat
minor, BWV 867; Rachmaninov: Prelude in C sharp minor; Bach:
Prelude no. 14 in F sharp minor, BWV 883; Massenet: Élégie; Bach: Fugue
No. 5 in D major, BWV 874; Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 8 ‘Pathétique’ –
II. Adagio cantabile; Villa-Lobos: Bachianas Brasileiras No. 9 (version
for choir). Valentina Peleggi, São Paulo Symphony Choir. NAXOS 8.574286.

From 1933 to
1935, Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) created a number of
transcriptions of classical music compositions by other composers in
arrangements for a cappella choir, especially of the Preludes and Fugues
from Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier. As you can see from the
selections listed above, this recording by the São Paulo Symphony Choir under
the direction of Italian conductor Valentina Peleggi places an emphasis on the
latter, with a number of Bach selections seasoned with some selections by other
familiar figures, and ending with a choral version of one of Villa-Lobos’s own
Bach-inspired compositions, his Bachianas Brasileiras No. 9, which the
composer dedicated to American composer Aaron Copland. Most of the
arrangements are for wordless choir; only the Schubert and the Massenet
selection feature lyrics, which are presented in the liner booklet. Although
some readers might be led to think of something like the old Swingle Singers
recordings of Bach, this is something much different, as the choir is much
larger and the arrangements are much more complex and nuanced than those of the
Swingles (not to knock them, they were great fun). Having the Bach arrangements
run as a thread throughout the program gives it weight and body, while having
the other arrangements provides variety and color. Hearing a melody with which
you are familiar from having heard on the piano (for me, it was the Rachmaninov
Prelude in C sharp minor) sung by this large choir is a transcendent
moment, sure to bring a shiver and a smile. This is a truly delightful
recording that should appeal to a wide variety of music lovers. The recording
quality is just fine, offering a sense of space without the overly resonant
muddiness that mars some choral releases.  

KWN

Adam: La Filleule des fees, complete ballet (CD review)

Andrew Mogrelia, Queensland Symphony Orchestra. Naxos
8.574302-03 (2-disc set).

By John J. Puccio

Most classical music
fans probably know French composer Adolphe Adam’s (1803-1856) ballet Giselle
(1841) far better than they know his later ballet (1849) La Filleule des
fees (“The Fairies’ Goddaughter”). Why? Is La Filleule really that
much worse than Giselle? Well, as I remarked about a few other works by
Adam, sometimes the public is right. While the listener comes away from Giselle
humming memorable tunes, trying to remember any music at all from La
Filleule might be more difficult. Like most of Adam’s work, La Filleule
is pleasant enough as you’re listening to it but doesn’t exactly inspire one to
return to it too soon.

Be that as it may,
Adam filled La Filleule des fees with charming, comfortable music,
almost all of it lightweight. Like most of Adam’s ballets, this one can be
enjoyed by anyone who appreciates ballet, although I would personally have preferred
a single highlights disc rather than what we have, the complete ballet on two
CDs. This set may be better suited to the completist who must own everything
Adam ever wrote or own every ballet ever written.

The plot of La
Filleule is similar to that of Giselle (and, a little, to that of Sleeping
Beauty), if a bit more involved. It features a beautiful girl who has three
godmothers, two of them good and one of them evil. There’s a handsome prince
involved and fiendish machinations by the villainous godmother, the usual stuff
of fairytales. And as with so many other ballets, it all seems to take forever
to unfold.

Nevertheless,
Maestro Mogrelia is an experienced hand at this sort of thing and treats it
with a deft precision, leading the Queensland Symphony in a congenial 128
minutes or so of music. The story unfolds in a brief prologue and seven
tableaux or scenes. Mogrelia does his best to keep these various set pieces
flowing congruently in some kind of compatible whole. This is especially important
as it’s all dance music and on disc it has to hold together aurally, without
the benefit of dancers and scenery on stage. I just wish there was more
substance to the ballet, more big, lavish pieces to keep our attention. I’m
afraid my mind kept wandering as I listened because after the first twenty
minutes or so it began sounding rather the same to me.

OK, I quibble. The
second tableau (labeled simply “The Countryside”) warms up nicely and contains
some delightful little ditties, which Maestro Mogrelia handles with an easy,
airy touch. The music can be charming, if rather insubstantial. Certainly there
is nothing wrong with light music; everything can’t be Bruckner or Mahler (and
even Mahler is pretty lightweight by some standards). Anyway, Mogrelia keeps
reminding us throughout the ballet that this is dance music, after all, and he
does his best to provide enough contrasts of rhythm and changes of pace to help
us visualize the festivities on stage.

Interestingly, the
tableaux get shorter (perhaps more concise would be a better description) as
the music goes on. The ballet’s first hour contains two tableaux and the second
hour five. Maybe someone had to remind him that at the pace he was going in the
first half, he’d have a five-hour work on his hands unless he got on with it.
Who knows. In any case, the second half picks up a little more steam, and
Mogrelia deals with it accordingly, with a particular effectiveness in the more
dramatic parts. There is no doubt that the conductor’s nimble leadership contributes
much to the overall strengths of the music, and the Queensland Symphony respond
to his direction accordingly well

In short, ballet
fans will probably love this set. Others may find it a tad tedious.

Producer Murray Khoury made the recording at the ABC
Studio, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia in February 1996. Naxos previously
released the set in their premium-priced Marco Polo line and are now issuing it
on their lower-cost Naxos label. The sound is pretty good, though not in the
audiophile category. The frequency extremes--the highest highs and lowest
lows--seem slightly deficient, but they’re adequate for their purpose. The
overall sonic quality is smooth and balanced, with a slightly soft character
that probably benefits the music. Dynamics, dimensionality, and transparency,
too, are adequate. It’s easy listening sound.

JJP

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

My “Battery” Advice…

By Bryan Geyer

Re. “battery,” let’s
nail the definition first. A single AA or AAA voltaic storage cell is actually not
a “battery”; it’s a cell. A “battery” is a combination of two
or more cells. So the sign at your local hardware store that directs you to
the Energizer and Duracell AA and AAA “battery” display is
technically in error. (That’s excusable, but the prices they post are not. You
can do lots better at…https://www.batteryjunction.com.)

Yes, I realize that
ramblings about AA and AAA (size) DC storage cells is distinctly outside my
assigned specialty (audio nitty-gritty) here, but this is my 30th tech paper
for this site, so host John Puccio (he of the chocolate digressions) has kindly
allowed me some off-topic slack. The outcome of this liberty might well be more
pertinent for you than anything in my previous 29 posts, so I say hey,
listen up—this is stuff you need to know!

I’m an especially
heavy user of both AA and AAA voltaic storage cells. However, I have not
purchased any standard alkaline (LR6 class) AA or AAA cells since the late
1970s. Instead, I use only lithium (FR6 class) non-rechargeable AA and
AAA cells (aka L91 & L92 cells). I do so because these lithium iron disulfide
(LiFeS2) cells present a stack of compelling advantages over archaic alkaline
(manganese dioxide) cells, not the least of which is the fact that their
extended life generally makes them cost-competitive in all but a few benign
applications. The service life advantage of a lithium AA cell—when compared to
its alkaline equivalent—varies, dependent on how it will be utilized. In very
low drain service (e.g., a TV remote control) the lithium battery will outlast
an alkaline cell, but not by much. However, lithium longevity becomes
appreciable when used in higher drain service; e.g. in a flashlight or lantern,
or in photo strobes, RF transmitters, and in some portable audio equipment.
There’s a real 2X to 3X service life advantage, as compared to an alkaline
equivalent, in a great many common applications. For example, I’m seriously
into photo-macrography (close-ups) and also long lens wildlife photography
(mostly birds). These endeavors often involve using two or more electronic
strobes that can support rapid and repetitive high-power bursts, and the
related current drain is normally more than wimpy alkaline cells can sustain.
This is especially so in colder weather because alkaline cell output declines
rapidly when ambient temperatures approach +40˚F, whereas lithium AA or AAA
cells will still retain most of their native room-temp. punch.

While long service
life is nice, maybe more important is the fact that lithium L91 AA cells will
NEVER LEAK, even when discharged and left in your equipment for ≥ 5 years.
(Been there, done that.) Conversely, all alkaline cells (of any brand)
will eventually expel their noxious corrosive electrolyte (it’s KOH, potassium
hydroxide) when they’re at or near a depleted state.

Further, lithium AA
cells are ~ 40% lighter than alkaline equivalents, based on size AA comparison.
That’s a helpful benefit, especially when you consider packing sufficient
back-up spares.

The best place to buy
Energizer non-rechargeable AA-size lithium (L91 type) cells is Battery
Junction; see…https://www.batteryjunction.com/energizer-l91aa.html,
where they’re $1.60 ea. + tax and shipping. The current Ace Hardware “walk in”
price for Energizer Max alkaline AA cells (in an 8 pack) equates to
$1.25 each + tax.

FR6-class lithium
cells will retain ~ 94% of their capacity after 15+ years of storage, so it’s
feasible to maintain extensive backup stock without concern. Alkaline cells
degrade more rapidly. They’re specified to be storable for ~ 5 years if kept in
cool dry environs, and then be down by only ~ 10%. However, I think that’s a
rather idealistic projection.

The story is the same
for AAA size cells. Energizer’s lithium (FR6 class) AAA cells are known as type
L92, and their listing at Battery Junction is…https://www.batteryjunction.com/energizer-l92-bulk.html.
The lithium cell benefits and characteristics that are noted above also apply
for the smaller AAA (L92) size lithium cells.

Regarding Travel & Safety: The
perilous warnings that you’ve heard about lithium battery fire hazards
are real, but they trace entirely to the use of multi-cell rechargeable-type lithium-ion batteries, as commonly used today in cellular smart ’phones, digital cameras, and portable computers (also Teslas). A non-rechargeable (single use) L91/L92 type lithium (LiFeS2) cell does not
pose the same fire threat. However, to assure that the federal safety
mandate has clear and effective public compliance, ALL lithium power
sources are now lumped as posing such fire hazard. As a consequence, you
are not permitted to ship lithium cells without a related exterior
warning sticker, and shipping by air (or by sea) is banned within the
USA. Regardless, when you are traveling by commercial air service, you
can then carry on equipment
that utilizes lithium cells. This means that all of your
battery-powered “carry on” gear (your cell ’phones, computers, digital
cameras, strobes, flashlights, et al), whether using lithium cells or
not, are welcome aboard the passenger compartment of the aircraft.
Packing such devices in your checked luggage is permissible only if they
are “…completely powered off and protected to prevent unintentional activation or damage.” This latter restriction is subject to the whim of the TSA agent on duty, so you’d best “carry on” your battery-operated devices. Further, all back-up stocks of uninstalled “…lithium metal and lithium ion batteries are always prohibited in checked baggage and must be placed in carry-on.” And: “When
a carry-on bag is checked at the gate or at plane side, any spare
lithium batteries must be removed from the bag and kept with the
passenger in the aircraft cabin.” (On your person, not in your
shoulder bag or briefcase.) Obviously, these last requirements don’t
pertain to L91/L92 cells, but they directly apply to any backup
rechargeable-type li-ion camera body batteries that you might have in your possession. The relevant TSA publication is here…https://www.faa.gov/hazmat/packsafe/more_info/?hazmat=20 (Issued 5/31/2018).

Re. NiMH
Rechargeable Cells: In
closing, please take note that many AA and AAA cell users rely on rechargeable
nickel metal-hydride (NiMH) cells as their preferred alternate to alkaline
cells. NiMH rechargeable storage cells work quite nicely for many applications
(far, far better than the older nickel-cadmium rechargeable alternative), but
the self-discharge rate for NiMH cells still makes them suspect for general
usage. A fully charged NiMH cell reads about 1.2 Vdc when under load at the
start (versus ~ 1.55 Vdc for a fresh alkaline cell), but it will sag to ~ 0.9
Vdc after just 6 to 8 weeks of passive storage. Conversely, a stock
non-rechargeable L91 (AA) or L92 (AAA) lithium battery will read ~ 1.6 to 1.7
Vdc initially when under load regardless of whether it’s new or has been in
storage for several years.

--BG (May 20, 2021)