András Schiff: Clavichord (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

J. S. Bach: (CD 1) Capriccio, BWV 992; Inventions, BWV 772-786; Four Duets, BWV 802-805; Ricercar à 3 from “Das Musikalische Opfer” BWV 1079; (CD 2) Sinfonias, BWV 787-801; Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue, BWV 903. András Schiff, clavichord. ECM New Series 2635/36 485. 7948

Hungarian-born British pianist András Schiff (b. 1953) has a well-deserved reputation as an interpreter of the music of Bach. In the past, he made many highly regarded piano recordings of Bach’s keyboard music for the Decca label; more recently, he has begun to record Bach for ECM, including those pillars of the Bach repertoire, the Goldberg Variationsand The Well-Tempered Clavier. Those recordings were on the piano, while this latest release finds Schiff recording Bach not on a modern concert grand, nor even on a harpsichord, the other usual keyboard instrument of choice for Bach, but rather on the clavichord. In the liner notes Schiff writes, “on first hearing, the sound of the clavichord may seem unfamiliar and strange but, little by little, you will become accustomed to it. Then a new world will open up, like a quiet oasis in our noisy, troubled times. Thanks to the clavichord I now play and hear Bach differently – even on the modern piano: it’s all more detailed…When I’m at home, my day always begins with Bach. It used to be on the piano, now it’s on the clavichord, even before breakfast. After a few of the Inventions I feel reborn.” 

 Listeners unfamiliar with the sound of the clavichord might well be struck by the resemblance of its sound to that of the guitar, especially those listeners familiar with the sound of Bach’s music as played on the classical guitar, as on the album by master guitarist Jason Vieaux that we recently reviewed here. If you have not heard a clavichord before, that sound can be a surprise, but it soon draws you in to the music, being less powerful than a modern piano, less clangy-sounding than a fortepiano, less boisterous than a harpsichord. In his detailed account of the instrument in the liner text, the Belgian clavichord and organ maker Joris Potvlieghe traces the clavichord’s presence and reception back to the 14th century The period instrument used for this specific recording was built by Potvlieghe in 2003 and is a replica of the unfretted Specken clavichord of 1743. The album was recorded in the Kammermusik Saal of Bonn’s Beethoven-Haus. In Schiff’s hands, and those of engineer Stephan Schellmann, you will indeed be drawn in by the intimate sound of the clavichord in order to be delighted by the music of Bach.

 

From the fanciful episodes of the opening Capriccio, the more formal mastery of the Inventions, the exciting and highly entertaining Four Duets, and the melodies that seem to chase each other in the Ricercar, the first disc offers a colorful mix that Schiff presents with energy and enthusiasm. It does not take long at all before you forget the sound of the clavichord and find yourself listening not to the clavichord but to Bach, courtesy of Maestro Schiff.  Then it is on to the second disc, which begins with the 15 Sinfonias. Each Sinfonia is relatively brief, but each is expressive, and you can hear how Schiff digs in to offer little accents and ornamentations to make the music come to life. This is far from dry, sterile, academic Bach playing; however, you never get the sense that Schiff is showing off or trying to call attention to himself. The program closes with the Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue, the Fantasia sounding when played on then clavichord much like music for Spanish guitar (not the first thing that normally pops to mind when thinking of the music of Bach), while the Fugue closes the album in classic Bach keyboard fashion, Schiff here making the clavichord sound more like a harpsichord.

The booklet that accompanies the discs includes two essays, which are offered in both English and German. The first is by Schiff, who writes about the how he learned to play the clavichord and how it has become his best teacher. The second essay is by clavichord maker Joris Potvlieghe, the detailed history of the clavichords as mentioned above; in addition, he provides some specifics on the particular instrument that was used by Schiff in this recording. Engineer Stephan Schellmann and producer Manfred Eicher captured the sound of that instrument in detailed, intimate, and quite natural sound quality that makes listening to this album a genuine pleasure.

 

J. S. Bach: Goldberg Variations (CD review)

Klara Wurtz, piano. Piano Classics PCL10230.

By Bill Heck

The Goldberg Variations? For those who don’t know, it’s an oft-told story but I’ll summarize it quickly: supposedly one Count Keyserling, Russian ambassador to the court of Saxony, was troubled by serious insomnia. The Count employed a musician by the name of Goldberg, who accompanied him on a trip to Leipzig where they met Bach. Somehow Bach ended up writing a set of variations to help the Count sleep, or at least to make his sleeplessness more bearable, and the Count would frequently ask Goldberg to play a few variations at such times, thus the reference to “Goldberg Variations.” There are multiple reasons to doubt this legend, but in any case, the name has stuck, and I suppose it’s as good a name as any: would the “Keyserling Variations” be any better?

Regardless of the pedigree, it’s difficult to know how the Variations could be soporific. Granted, they are not rousing marches or stirring calls to arms, but their inventiveness, constantly changing moods, and sheer depth are hardly calculated to induce snoring, at least for anyone listening with more than half an ear.

So, who is Klara Wurtz? Although not a household name, she is hardly unknown: she has recorded extensively, mostly on Brilliant Classics, and has an active touring career. Her past recorded repertoire has included a complete Mozart sonata cycle, a Schumann cycle, and other works by Schubert and even Bartok; she has garnered positive reviews along the way. So far as I can tell, this album is her first recorded foray into the Baroque.

Now to the recording at hand: this is the point where I admit to feeling somewhat inadequate to my reviewing task. The set of Goldberg Variations is one of the most famous and most often recorded works in the keyboard (piano and harpsichord) literature. Scholarly articles discussing the composition abound; entire books have been written on the topic. Isaac Newton’s remark about feeling like a child on the seashore diverted by a shinier pebble while surrounded by a vast ocean of undiscovered truth seems all too apropos. So rather than trying to dissect details and refer to specific passages, I’ll concentrate on the characteristics of this recording that I find so appealing: moderation, clarity, and sound.

First, Wurtz steers what I hear as a steady but well-chosen course between extremes of performance: tempi are generally moderate but never dragging; there is no exaggerating for atmospheric effects, she doesn’t hot rod to show off; and there are no sudden, puzzling shifts in dynamics. I certainly don’t mean to say that the playing is mechanical; Wurtz is fully capable of flying when that fits the music, as in Variation 9 or the finger-twisting madness of 15. Instead, I mean that she stays focused on presenting the music in an appealing way, yet one that does not call attention to the playing for its own sake. There are some other performances during which you might suddenly think “What was that?” after some surprising sound: in this recording, the surprises are the ones delivered by the genius of Bach himself.

Secondly, Wurtz’s playing has remarkable clarity, by which I mean that every note seems to be delivered audibly while still being placed in the correct context. I heard few, if any, passages in which the moving voices of Bach’s writing were lost, obscured, or otherwise difficult to follow. Again, this does not mean that each note is sounded in the same way at the same volume; that would be unmitigated disaster. What I do mean is that I could hear the notes clearly but each in a place that seems appropriate for its role in the sonic landscape, as part of a unified whole. To use a visual analogy, even the tiny details or a fine painting are visible if you look closely, even though some are larger or more colorful than others.

Finally, the performance is presented in superbly recorded sound: the Piano Classics team has outdone themselves. The piano is of believable size (no eight-foot-wide keyboards here), with a nicely centered sonic image, all in a naturally reverberant field-- but not so reverberant as to subtract from the clarity of the playing. (The liner notes tell us that the recording venue was the Westvest Church, Schiedam, The Netherlands and, for those keeping score, the instrument was a Steinway D.) The sound is coherent through the entire range. I did think that the lowest registers of the piano could have used a bit more weight, but that’s a minor quibble – and besides, we’re listening to Bach here, not Liszt. One other point: the between-variation (between track) gaps are quite short. For this music, that seems a wise choice that keeps the variations flowing, the better to compare and contrast them one to another.

Drawing all this together, perhaps the word I want here is “lively” (“delightful” comes to mind as well) in the sense that Wurtz makes Bach’s music come alive. No, this performance will not make you forget Gould or Perahia or any other personal favorite, but then everyone needs multiple versions of the Goldbergs, right? In any case, to my ears, this one stands on its own as a fine achievement.

BH

Recent Releases, No. 29 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Bach | Sei Solo | Kavakos. Bach: Sonatas & Partitas for Solo Violin Nos. 1-3. Leonidas Kavakos, violin. Sony Classics 19439983132.

This is one of those recordings that is pretty much self-recommending. When you have one of the premier violin virtuosos of our time playing the timeless music of Johann Sebastian Bach, you expect excellence, and excellence is what this recording delivers. From his remarks on the back cover of the CD case, it is apparent that the Greek violinist Leonidas Kavakos (b. 1967) believes that there is a deeply spiritual dimension to this composition: “Harmony’s rhythm and rhythms’s harmony are decisive assistants in each incarnation’s personal journey towards achieving catharsis through the expression of life and thus opening the gate to theosis, the divine aspect of existence. Wir danken dir, Gott (We thank you, God) is the title of Bach’s Cantata No. 29, the opening Sinfonia of which is a transcription for organ and orchestra of the Preludio from Partita No. 3. It could equally well serve as the title or all six sonatas and partitas, an opus consisting of two triads which, through the peerless swirling of the great Thomascantor’s compositions, enlighten the individual responsibility of existence (“Sei Solo”), a vital component of collective space-time!” Kavakos plays with a nimble touch, never seeming to be trying to flaunt his virtuosity or add any heavy-handed dramatic exaggerations to the music. Everything just seems to flow naturally along from one phrase to the next; indeed, you find yourself admiring the music, not just marveling at the playing, which is as it should be. Perhaps in light of his comments as quoted above, Kavakos leads off not with Sonata No. 1, as you might expect, but rather with Partita No. 3, followed by Sonata No. 3. Sonata No. 2 then closes CD1; however, CD2 does not start with Partita No. 2, as you might expect, but rather with Sonata No. 1, followed by Partita No. 1, and then the program comes to a close with Partita No. 2. Apparently, Kavakos intended to underline his idea that the theme of the entire composition centers on the Preludio from Partita No. 3. As to the sonics, the violin is recorded a bit close, with sounds occasionally jumping from speaker to speaker, but to be fair, this is not an uncommon problem with two-channel stereo. Still, the sound is quite clean, there is some sense of the space in which the violin was recorded, and overall, I have no real complaints. Long-time Bach fans may already own several favorite recordings of this music; however, they still might want to give this new version a hearing. Those music lovers new to the piece would certainly find this Sony release an excellent introduction to this magical music, for Kavakos’s version is without eccentricity and is a more than worthy addition to the Bach catalog.

Beethoven for Three. Beethoven: Symphony No 2 in D major, op. 36 (arrangement for piano trio attributed to Ferdinand Ries, under the supervision of the composer); Symphony No. 5 in C minor, op. 67 (arrangement for piano trio by Colin Matthews). Emanuel Ax, piano; Leonidas Kavakos, violin; Yo-Yo Ma, cello. Sony Classical 19439940142.

Yes, you read that correctly. What we have here are two Beethoven symphonies arranged for piano trio and performed by an all-star lineup of Ax, Kavakos, and Ma. I feel obliged to point out at the outset that I find it disappointing – pretty much inexcusable, really – that Sony did not go to the bother to provide any sort of liner notes that might have provided some insights about the motivation for these arrangements, about the arrangers, how these performers came together to do this, why it was recorded at Tanglewood, etc. Alas, there are no real liner notes, just a brief note dedicating the release to conductor Michael Tilson Thomas, which in light of his recent public disclosure of his struggle with brain cancer is certainly a kind gesture. But my goodness, it certainly would have been nice to have some more background information. For what it’s worth, Ferdinand Ries, given credit for this arrangement of the Symphony No. 2, was one of Beethoven’s students, while Colin Matthews (b.1946), who arranged the Symphony No. 5,  is a contemporary English composer. Although each listener will of course have his or her own personal reactions to and opinions about hearing these symphonies performed as piano trios, I believe that my general observations about this recording would strike a resonant chord with the majority of music lovers who might venture to give it a listen. First of all, it is well worth an audition. This is great music played by great musicians. It is well played and well recorded. Reducing symphonies to trios was one practiced so that people could hear the music in their homes or other small settings. Today, we have stereos, headphones, earbuds, etc. But hey, we can now listen to recordings of a Beetthoven symphony played by a large orchestra on modern instruments, a small orchestra on period instruments, or a piano trio. What goes around comes around. But for many of us today, hearing the Symphony No. 2 played by Ax, Kavakos, and Ma will strike us as though we are hearing a pleasant piano trio in the style of Beethoven. Some nice melody, some good drama, excellent chamber music that makes us glad that we decided to listen to this recording. But when we suddenly hear then opening notes of the Symphony No. 5 played by these same three musicians, we suddenly find ourselves jolted into wondering what in the heck is going on – why is there a piano? Where is the rest of the orchestra? It takes a while to adjust to the fact that this is music with which we are so familiar being played in such an unfamiliar way. I’ve now listened many times, and am still not quite fully adjusted. Their performance of Symphony No. 2 still strikes me as a really pleasant piano trio (and I do like the symphony itself, especially as conducted by Jordi Savall), but although I am not quite as jolted by the opening of Symphony No. 5 as I was the first several times I heard them play it, I still can’t quite simply relax and enjoy their pr[performance simply as chamber music. Still, though, I find this an intriguing release that I do not hesitate to recommend to Beethoven fans, although I do want to close with  parting shot at Sony Classical for their pathetically uninformative (nonexistent) liner notes. They can and should do better.

Weinberg: Sonatas for Violin Solo. Gidon Kremer, violin. ECM New Series 2705. 

Mieczysław Weinberg (1919-1996) was a Jewish composer from Poland who resided in the USSR and became a close musical associate of Shostakovich. A bit more about the composer can be found in a previous review of his music, which can be found here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/10/weinberg-clarinet-music-cd-review.html. Unlike the music on that Naxos disc, however, the music on this ECM New Series release is not as immediately appealing to the ear. Unlike the 19th-century violin music of Beethoven, this is 20th-century music that does not have a primary aim of delighting  listeners with memorable melodies. This is more complex music, more challenging music, as listening to the first few bars of the Sonata No. 3 that opens the disc will quickly make evident. However, as you listen more closely, you can hear that a lot of thought went into the composition of this sonata, which is quite expressive, Weinberg dedicated to the memory of his father, himself a violinist, who was killed in a Nazi concentration camp. Although there are some moments of great lyrical tenderness, there are also passages of almost savage fury and occasional dissonance. The sonata is in one movement, clocking in at more than 22 minutes. No, it is not a piece for the faint of heart, but for those who appreciate the expressive power of the violin, to hear Gidon Kremer put his all into this remarkable work will be a truly rewarding experience. For whatever reason, the program is presented in reverse chronological order,  so next up is Sonata No. 2, which stands in contrast to Sonata No. 3 by comprising seven brief movements rather than a single long one. The liner note offers this concise description: “With ts reduced sonority and quasi-independent movements (headed ‘Monody,’ ‘Rests,’ ‘Intervals,’ Replicas,’ ‘Accompaniment,’ ‘Invocation,’ and ‘Syncopations), it almost seems like a set of late-romantic character pieces coarsened by modern modes of execution, but also imbued with a distinct sense of resignation.” Once again, Kremer displays both his technical skill and his artistic touch as he brings out the varying moods portrayed in these brief musical sketches, some of which last under two minutes. Sonata No. 1, which closes the CD, is the closest of the three to traditional violin sonata form, consisting of five movements: I. Adagio – Allegro, II Andante, III. Allegretto, IV. Lento, V. Presto. The outer movements are the most virtuosic, with Kremer providing some really dazzling playing, while the second movement shows great tenderness and the third, a playful spirit. I’m hard-pressed to come up with the right adjective for the fourth movement; I guess I’ll just write that it is intense and leave it at that. As for the sound quality, there is a good amount of reverb, as we have come to expect from ECM, but not so much as to be a distraction. Although this may not be music that will appeal to a wide audience, for those with a serious interest in 20th-century violin music, this is certainly a milestone release.

Shostakovich: Symphony No. 7. Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Orchestra. LSO Live LSO0859.

This new SACD release on the LSO Live label (note, however, that I auditioned the CD layer for this review) is the latest in an ongoing Shostakovich cycle from Italian conductor Gianandrea Noseda (b. 1964) and the London Symphony Orchestra. We reviewed an earlier release in this series here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2021/08/recent-releases-no-15-cd-reviews.html. Most music lovers are probably familiar with the story of the Symphony No. 7, popularly known as the “Leningrad,” written by the young composer as the city was under siege by Russian and Finnish forces in WWII, a copy of the completed score smuggled out of Russia that made its way to New York, where it was played by the NY Philharmonic under Toscanini in 1942 in a broadcast performance and even played in Leningrad itself while the city was still under siege. For a time, the work was quite the rage, but is not so well-regarded today. Still, it is a powerful piece of music, as this new recording amply demonstrates. Both the recording quality and the performance itself come across as committed and straightforward, without unnecessary embellishment or exaggeration. This is probably as fine a one-disc account of this work as you are likely to encounter. My personal favorite version remains the Bernstein/Chicago on DG (also a live recording), which is coupled with an unusually slow version of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 1; however, this Noseda 7th is truly excellent and I can recommend it without reservation.

KWN

Musica Barocca (CD review)

Music of Albinoni, J.S. Bach, Handel, Marcello, Pachelbel, Purcell, Telemann, and Vivaldi. Giovanni Antonini, Il Giardino Armonico. Warner Classics 0190296455322.

By John J. Puccio

Il Giardino Armonico (“The Garden of Harmony”) is a period-instrument ensemble co-founded in 1985 by its leader Giovanni Antonini. Like most such bands, its primary purpose is to play music in a historically accurate style and on original instruments appropriate to the era (mainly the late seventeenth to early nineteenth centuries). In other words, to play music that the composers of such music would easily recognize if they were alive today. The 1980’s saw a number of such HIP (historically informed performance) orchestras pop up, many of which are gone now and many of which have stuck around. Il Giardino Armonico is one that stuck around.

Although Il Giardino Armonico is still performing and still recording, they recorded the present album in 2001 for Teldec Das Alte Werk, and Warner Classics is just re-releasing it 2022. So you might say it’s something of a relic itself. Still, it’s a good and welcome relic, filled with an abundance of good tunes by Baroque composers like Albinoni, J.S. Bach, Handel, Marcello, Pachelbel, Purcell, Telemann, and Vivaldi. It’s not quite a golden oldies collection of Baroque favorites, but it’s close. The main thing is that it’s well played and enjoyable to hear. The composers couldn’t have wanted more.

Here’s the program:

J.S. Bach: Suite No. 3 in D major
Albinoni: Oboe Concerto in D minor
Vivaldi: Flautino Concerto in C major
Albinoni: Adagio for solo violin and strings
Marcello: Oboe Concerto in D minor
Telemann: Concerto for two flutes in B minor
Pachelbel: Canon and Gigue in D major
Traditional: “Greensleeves”
Purcell: Chaconne in G minor
Handel: Solomon, “The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba”
Albinoni: Sinfonia a quattro in F major

So, some things familiar, some things not so familiar, but all things baroque. Il Giardino Armonico play with elegance and precision. This leads to technically well executed but not always the most exciting presentations. For me, they tend to suck a little of the life out of the music in the process of being so well-mannered. Take, for instance, the opening selection, the familiar Suite No. 3 in D major, BWV 1068. While it comes to life in the Gavottes, it’s generally polite in the extreme. Now, compare it to Jordi Savall’s account with La Concert des Nations on Alia Vox. Antonini and his crew may provide the greater degree of contrasts in style and tempo, but it’s Savall who delivers the most fun. He and his players simply sound as though they’re having a better time playing the music. Of course, this is hardly a slam against Antonini, who does a splendid job getting the music across with a minimum of fuss. It’s just a matter of taste in the long run, and many listeners will prefer the refinement of Il Giardino Armonico over the comparatively scruffy qualities of Savall’s group.

Il Giardino Armonico appear more in their element with Albinoni’s Oboe Concerto, which they render beautifully, with grace, ease, and polish. That’s followed by a zippy treatment of Vivaldi’s Flautino Concerto, and so on. One thing you can’t say about Antonini, though, is that he’s predictable. He tends to go from one extreme to another not only in his choice of material but in his choice of manners to play them. With the exception of several Albinoni pieces, you never quite know what he’s going to do with the music. Some of it comes off with strength and vigor (the Handel “Arrival of the Queen of Sheba” is especially lively); others sound rushed or overworked.

Producer Christoph Classen and engineer Michael Brammen recorded the music at Chiesa di San Giorgio, Morbio Inferiore, Switzerland in 2001. There is the feeling here of a very large space, with good orchestral depth and a fairly reverberant but not objectionable hall resonance. The image comes across coherently, with instruments well spaced. However, the dynamics seem all over the place, sometimes strong, sometimes a bit lifeless; lucidity sometimes transparent, sometimes soft and dusky; and the frequency balance sometimes tending to favor the upper register. All of this is perhaps a result of the various combinations of players and instruments involved, so like the performances, you never quite know what to expect.

JJP

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

Recent Releases, No. 26 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Voyages: Orchestral Music by James Lee III
Sukkot Through Orion’s Nebula; A Different Soldier’s Tale; Beyond Rivers of Vision; Chuphshah! Harriet's Drive to Canaan. Marin Alsop, ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra. AVIE AV2507.

Just yesterday I was perusing my Google news feed when I came upon an item that caught my eye. Maestro Stéphene Denève, the Music Director of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, is an advocate for music of our current century, making an effort to schedule works by living composers as part of every concert program that the orchestra performs, with an upcoming program to feature a performance of one of the compositions on this CD, Chuphshah! Harriet's Drive to Canaan by the American composer James Lee III (b. 1975). Although there may be some in the audience who may be skeptical of music by composers who are pretty much unknown to them, especially contemporary composers, they are in for a treat, for Chuphshah! is an entertaining, very listenable piece, as are all the compositions on this remarkable AVIE recording. From the opening measures of Sukkot Through Orion’s Nebula, with their snare, bass drum, brass, and percussion excitement, you know right away that this is going to be a fun recording for both musical and audio reasons. In his liner note essay, Lee describes Sukkot as “a festive work for orchestra,” and it is certainly that. Next up is the longest composition on the program, the four-movement A Different Soldier’s Tale, based on stories that Lee’s grandfather told him about his experiences in World War II. As you might expect from such a description, it contains some passages of drama and turmoil, as well as passages of pathos and reflection. Beyond Rivers of Vision is in three movements, of which Lee observes “for the most part the form in these pieces is fantasia-like or rhapsodic.” The music has an otherworldly characteristic to it at times that stands in contrast to the drama of the Soldier’s Tale. The CD closes with the afore-mentioned Chuphshah! Harriet's Drive to Canaan, which is based on aspects of the life of Harriet Tubman. His liner note essay is insightful and helpful in understanding what he is attempting to do in all four compositions, but especially so for this one.

As I indicated at the outset, this release is a treat both musically and sonically. The music is energetic and assertive, with plenty of orchestral effects that will show off a good audio system. The engineering team has done a good job, Alsop and the orchestra sound as though they are having a good time playing this mostly extroverted music, and the end result is a highly recommendable release from an exciting young composer. Bravo!

Fire & Grace: Alma
Piazzolla: Libertango; Albeniz: Asturias; Vivaldi: L’Estate – Summer (Allegro non molto/Adagio e piano/Presto); Suite Españo comprising Prelude (JS Bach); Mendiokerra (Traditional Basque); Allemande (JS Bach); Ay Linda Amiga (Traditional Spanish 16th Century Madrigal); Courante (JS Bach); Nana (Traditional Spanish / Manuel De Falla); Sarabande (JS Bach); Malagueña (Traditional Spanish); Menuet 1 and 2 (JS Bach); Muñeira de Chantada (Traditional Galician); Gigue (JS Bach); Cancro Crú (Anxo Pintos); Tanya’s Tune (Roger Talroth). Fire & Grace (Edwin Huizinga, violin; William Coulter, guitar). CD available at fireandgracemusic.com.

This is one of those releases that exemplifies the resilience and power of great music. Take some folk instruments, some compositions from different traditions and cultures, blend them together with a great deal of energy and enthusiasm and let a couple of skilled performers just let ‘er rip and this is what you get. Starting off with Astor Piazzolla’s slinky and sensuous Libertango, followed by the energetic Asturias of Albeniz and an  arrangement of the Summer movement from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, violinist Huizinga and guitarist Coulter then display both their affection for the music of Bach and their skill at weaving melodies together as they shuffle the first six movements of Bach’s first Cello Suite, arranged for violin with guitar accompaniment, with a variety of Spanish compositions. Sounds crazy, but it works! Perhaps it helps to remember that the roots of inspiration for Bach’s famous suites for solo cello are planted in dance. We sometimes tend to regard them with a reverence that might at times threaten to make us freeze in place, but the exuberance with which Huizinga and Coulter make this music swing ought to help loosen up our joints and bring us some righteous joy. The program closes with a cut that Huizinga and Coulter explain they included because they are “huge fans of the music of Vasen. We finish this recording with the lovely Tanya’s Tune composed by Roger Talroth, former guitarist of Väsen.”  (Väsen is a Swedish folk music band.)

Musically, Alma is an energetic, imaginative and impassioned release that should appeal to fans of classical, folk, and perhaps even bluegrass music. My only reservation is with the engineering. For my taste, the microphones have been placed too close to the instruments, meaning that you hear every little sound, whether musical. There is just no sense of space, no air around the instruments, no sense of a room, no feeling of warmth. The sound that is there is certainly clean and clear, not harsh or distorted, so perhaps some listeners with some systems (Bose 901s, anyone?) in some rooms will not be bothered nearly as much as I am by the engineering approach. In any event, the music is the main consideration, and it is certainly well worth hearing.

Cameron Carpenter: Bach & Hanson
Bach: The Goldberg Variations, BWV 988 (transcr. for organ by Cameron Carpenter); Hanson: Symphony No. 2 in D-flat major, Op. 30, W45 (transcr. for organ by Cameron Carpenter). Cameron Carpenter, organ. Decca Gold B0 034581-02.

When I came upon this release, I was immediately intrigued by a number of things. First, I was a bit surprised to see that Carpenter would undertake to transcribe the Goldbergs for the organ. OK, the organ is a keyboard instrument, and yes, the Goldbergs have been transcribed for other instruments, and, yes, when you think about it, the multiple keyboards of the organ would actually make it easier to play the score as written (hands crossing over). I was further surprised by the pairing of transcriptions of a Baroque keyboard work with a modern Romantic symphony, not only in terms of the contrast in genres, but also in the idea that Carpenter was able to fit performances of both the Goldbergs and a symphony into one compact disc. Granted, the Hanson symphony is not a long one, but my goodness, Lang Lang had to use two CDs just for his interpretation of the Goldbergs alone! What we have here, then, is something like the early, faster Glenn Gould interpretation of the Goldberg Variations, only played on an organ rather than a piano, followed by a transcription for organ of a lushly scored symphony. Both are interesting, but probably more of interest to devoted organ lovers than to the typical classical music lover. My guess would be that the Bach would be of more appeal than the Hanson; for my ears, at least, hearing the Goldbergs on a different sort of keyboard instrument was more rewarding than hearing a piece so lushly scored for orchestra played by an organ, even by an organist as skilled as Carpenter, who is truly a master of that mighty instrument. For organ aficionados this new release by Cameron Carpenter is well worth an audition, but for others, maybe not so much.

Sting: The Bridge
Sting, vocals, guitar, bass guitar; Dominic Miller, guitars; various musicians. A&M Records B0034573-02.

I have previously posted some reviews of jazz recordings, arguing that in many respects, many jazz performances and recordings can be regarded as a form of chamber music. I am probably stretching things a bit here by including a recording by Sting, whom many readers will no doubt remember as a rock musician who initially rose to fame as a founding member and lead singer of rock band the Police from 1977-1984. Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner (b.1951) is an English musician – known professionally as Sting – who has had a fruitful solo career since disbanding the Police nearly 30 years ago. In 1991, he formed an association with Argentine-born guitarist Dominic Miller b. 1960), who has toured and recorded with him for the past three decades (interestingly enough, my first review of a jazz recording was of Miller’s Absinthe, which you can find https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2019/06/dominic-miller-absinthe-cd-review.html). There is a fascinating interview with Sting and Dominic Miller on Rick Beato’s YouTube channel, available here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efRQh2vspVc. Among other things, Sting and Miller tell Beato that they play and study the music of Bach on a regular basis. These are serious musicians, true professionals who understand music theory and have an ear for and appreciation of serious music. These qualities can be heard in The Bridge, which although it has the overall sound of a rock album, also has the musical and lyrical sophistication that sets it apart from the pack. Sting’s lyrics reflect his love of literature and his ability to express complex feelings in compact verse, and the musical arrangements (including the saxophone of jazz luminary Branford Marsalis) are colorful, energetic but never over the top. The liner notes are engrossing, the sound quality is first-class; indeed, in my more giddy imaginings, I can almost think of this as the rock equivalent of a collection of art songs. But I’ll stop short of that hyperbole and simply suggest that you might try giving this CD an audition should you be so inclined with an open mind as to what you might find….

KWN

Light in a Time of Darkness (CD review)

Music of Vaughan Williams, Kay, Bach, Barlow, Walker, and Haydn. JoAnn Falletta, Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra. Beau Fleuve Records 605996-998579.

By John J. Puccio

JoAnn Falletta, the longtime (1999-present) Music Director of the Buffalo Philharmonic hardly needs an introduction, given the vast praise that audiences and critics around the world have heaped upon her. She has chosen to title the current album Light in a Time of Darkness, which she explains in a liner note:

“As we look back on the challenges of 2020 and 2021, we realize that our music kept us emotionally alive. The BPO musicians and I played throughout the pandemic, masked, socially distanced and in small groups, filming our concerts to share with our audiences. Those experiences for us were intense--learning music we had never played and communicating with each other in different ways. But it also was an astounding and beautiful time for us. The music seemed to take on a deeper dimension, to reach us on a profound spiritual level. Without question, music kept us together, healthy and grateful to be able to perform for the community we love.

In this CD, we have chosen six pieces that were high points of the season for us in terms of their emotional depth and spirituality. We hope that you will enjoy the extraordinary musicians of the Buffalo Philharmonic in this expression of our heartfelt thanks to you, our beloved family.”

There are half a dozen short pieces on the program, the first of which is the Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis by the British composer Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958). He wrote and premiered it in 1910 on a commission from the Three Choirs Festival, basing his theme on a tune by the sixteenth-century English composer Thomas Tallis. Ms. Falletta approaches it in a graceful, warmhearted manner, the orchestra sounding lush and velvety smooth.

Next up is Pieta by the neoclassicist American composer Ulysses Kay (1919-1995). The title derives from Latin, meaning “piety or compassion” and refers more specifically to depictions of the Virgin Mary grieving over the dead body of Christ. These first two selections seem appropriate to the dark days of the pandemic, but Ms. Falletta never lets them sink into pathos. In their own spiritual ways, they are quite moving and uplifting.

After that is a familiar work, the Brandenburg Concerto No. 6 by Johann Sebastian Bach. I had to admit it had been a long time since I last heard a Brandenburg played by anything but a period-instrument band, Although Ms. Falletta and her players may not sound exactly the way Bach would have heard the piece, her well-disciplined direction would surely delight him. This is a comfortable Bach, cozy, relaxed, and refined.

Following the Brandenburg is are two short pieces, The Winter’s Passed by American composer Wayne Barlow (1912-1996) and Lyric for Strings--Lament by American composer and pianist George Walker. They add further notes of inspiration to the agenda, notwithstanding a touch of melancholy; and they are beautifully played by the orchestra and its director.

The program closes with the Symphony No. 44 in E minor, “Trauer,” by Austrian composer Franz Josef Haydn (1732-1809). While Haydn may be known as the “father of the string quartet,” he is also known as the “father of the symphony,” having written over a hundred of them at a time when the genre was just getting off the ground. The nickname for Symphony No. 44, “Trauer,” means “grief or mourning,” and that may explain why an apocryphal story arose that Haydn wanted the slow movement played at his funeral (it wasn’t). Haydn wrote the work during his “Sturm und Drang” period (“storm, stress”), and even though there are a fair share of intensely severe moments in it, the slow Adagio movement is certainly not one of them. Because of the work’s emotional contrasts, some music scholars consider it an important forerunner of Romanticism.

Whatever, Ms. Falletta’s way with Haydn is much in the manner of the rest of the program. She handles it with great confidence in an easygoing, cultivated performance that is bigger on tenderness and compassion than it is on excitement or thrills. It makes a fine and fitting conclusion to an album that glows with affection.

Producer and engineer Bernd Gottinger recorded the music at Kleinhans Music Hall, Buffalo, New York in 2020 and 2021. The sound is plush, warm, and comfortable, about what you would hear from the audience’s perspective at a medium distance in a concert hall. There is a pleasant, ambient glow around the music that is most flattering.

JJP

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

Recent Releases, No. 22 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Arnold: Complete Symphonies and Dances. (CD1) Symphonies Nos. 1 & 2; (CD2) Symphonies Nos. 3 & 4; (CD3) Symphonies Nos. 5 & 6; (CD4) Symphonies 7 & 8; (CD5) Symphony No. 9; Sir Malcolm Arnold in Conversation with Andrew Penny; (CD6) English Dances, Set 1; English Dances, Set 2; Four Scottish Dances, Op. 59; Four Scottish Dances, Op. 91; Four Irish Dances; Four Welsh Dances. Andrew Penny, National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland (Symphonies), Queensland Symphony Orchestra (Dances). Naxos 8.506041.

October 21, 2021, marked the 100th birthday of the late British composer Sir Malcolm Arnold, one of the greatest yet most overlooked composers of the 20th century. Even in the UK, his music is seldom performed in concert, which is a shame. I was going to say that I first became acquainted with his music thanks to a recommendation by the late Harry Pearson of The Absolute Sound, who wrote with enthusiasm of an EMI LP featuring Arnold conducting the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in Arnold’s Symphony No. 5 and Peterloo Overture, the first LP I ever ordered from England. But that was not, as I now recall, my first exposure to the music of Arnold; instead, my first exposure had actually come many years before, when my father took me to see the film The Bridge on the River Kwai, for which Arnold had composed the memorable score. (The film featured a young Alec Guinness, who many years later I would take my own kids to see play the role of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and would some years after that delight me with his portrayal of George Smiley.) Thanks to Naxos, though, who have decided to mark the occasion of this centennial year with a budget-priced boxed set of his complete symphonies and dances, music lovers now have the chance to immerse themselves in the symphonic music of this most remarkable composer for a most reasonable price.

Arnold had played trumpet in the London Symphony Orchestra; he knew orchestras and loved writing music for them. His symphonies contain melodies and tunes that musicians enjoy playing and listeners enjoy hearing. But no, his music is not simple. It is varied and complex, shifting from mood to mood, sometimes turning on a dime, but never leaving the listener behind. It can go from a tickle to a tear within a matter of measures. But it is always listenable, always colorful, ever imaginative. In a nutshell, the first couple of symphonies are on the bold and brash side, yet not without their moments of reflection. Nos. 3 and 4 are a bit more exotic sounding, especially No. 4., which makes lively use of percussion in places.

Symphony No. 5, the work that Harry Pearson raved about, is often considered Arnold’s masterwork; indeed, it is a symphony that cannot help but make an indelible impression. Its sound is rich and varied, with memorable contributions especially from the brass section, with some trombone parts that will haunt your memory. It is the quintessential Arnold symphony, packed with gorgeous melodies but still managing to be tense, restless, and disturbing under the surface. It is a great work, one that deserves a place in the concert hall. Its discmate, No. 6., is a shorter work (24:41) in three movements, said to be inspired by jazz but communicating a more serious, focused tone than his previous symphonies.

Nos. 7 and 8 are even more serious in tone, but still display that same Arnold sound, that ability to weave phrases and melodies that linger in the memory and tug at the heartstrings of the listeners without ever sounding cloying or sentimental, punctuated with bursts of energy, especially from the bass drum. The opening measures of No. 8 will definitely give both your speakers and your emotions a workout! But then the second movement Andantino will ply on your emotions in a quieter but no less powerful way, setting the stage for the final movement, and energetic romp that by now you will recognize sounds like pure Malcolm Arnold as it shifts gears and moves merrily along. Then we come to Symphony No. 9, Arnold’s most enigmatic symphony. The April 2021 issue of BBC Music Magazine featured an article on Arnold, and displayed his portrait on the cover, alongside which was a teaser that read, “Malcolm Arnold: Was the talented but troubled composer England’s Shostakovich?” That’s the kind of thing you expect to see while standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, and a bit of baloney overall, but listening to the 9th does admittedly invite the comparison to the great Russian composer. Its structure is unusual and yes, Shostakovich-like: three relatively short movements followed by a long (23:10) Lento finale that is serious and brooding. But still, as much as it might remind one of Shostakovich, it remains clearly a work by Arnold. A welcome bonus is the appended interview, in which conductor and composer discuss the work. Much different in mood and most rousingly Arnold-like are the sets of Dances gather together on the final disc in this set. These works are an unabashed delight, tuneful and tasty. It was certainly generous of Naxos to include them here along with the symphonies.

Please rest assured that although this is a budget release, the playing and the engineering are all first-rate. The booklet included in the box gives some background on the symphonies and is prefaced with a reflection about the music and the composer by conductor Andrew Penny. I will confess to being a huge fan of Arnold’s music; I have previously purchased recordings of all of his symphonies (and numerous other works) by several orchestras on several labels, including the individual Naxos discs as they were released during the 1990s. To have this set together in one box, along with the complete Dances (the first time all of his Dances have been recorded together), so well done and at a reasonably low price, makes this set a must-have. Arnold’s music is a musical universe begging to be explored by those who have not yet entered it, and now Naxos has provided the portal key. Enter and enjoy!

Of All Joys. Arvo Pärt (b. 1935): Summa; Luca Marenzio (c. 1535-1599): Solo e pensoso; John Dowland (1565-1626): Flow My Tears (Lachrimae); Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625) Fantasia a 6 in d minor; Philip Glass (b. 1937): String Quartet No. 3 “Mishima”; John Bennet (c. 1575 - c. 1615): Weep, O Mine Eyes; Jacobus Clemens non Papa (c.1510 - c. 1555): Ego Flos Campi a 7; Pärt: Fratres. Attacca Quartet (Amy Schroeder and Domenic Salerni, violins; Nathan Schram, viola; Andrew Yee, cello). Sony Classical 19439936062.

The Attacca Quartet have assembled a musical program of works from the 16th and 20th centuries that flows seamlessly from one musical delight into another, truly testifying to the listener of all joys indeed: the joys of life, the universe, and everything. The disc begins and ends with string quartet arrangements of familiar works by the beloved Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, Summa and Fratres. As with much of Pärt’s music, both pieces have a spiritual dimension to them. That feeling of calm and inwardness carries throughout the program, which is not always quiet and soporific, but in general has a feeling of grace about it. It is revealing to hear how naturally the music of Philip Glass blends so seamlessly into the program. Yes, listeners familiar with his compositional style will recognize that pulsing undercurrent, but they will also come to hear that over 500 years, music still remains music, the tones and the rhythms and the attendant emotions are still there, still flowing, still touching our hearts and minds. The Attacca Quartet’s violinist Domenic Salerni remarks of Glass’s music that “using an extreme economy of means, he creates moments and momentums out of simple whole-number harmonic ansd rhythmic ratios that can leave one feeling resigned and despairing, uplifted and filled with joy, or simply at peace and transported to a place of beauty.” The liner notes go on to assert that “this album seeks to replicate such emotional breadth. And while the textures and harmonies of Glass were a natural and obvious fit, the record is a project that began with the quartet listing off their favorite minimalist and Renaissance pieces, and considering how modern works resonate with what came before.” The end result is an album that should resonate with listeners seeking to engage with the beauty that can be found in simple music with surprising depth.    

Vince Mendoza: Freedom Over Everything. Concerto for Orchestra: American Noise; Concerto For Orchestra: Consolation; Concerto For Orchestra: Hit The Streets; Concerto For Orchestra: Meditation; Concerto for Orchestra: Justice And The Blues; Freedom Over Everything; Concerto For Orchestra: Finale; To The Edge Of Longing; New York Stories (Concertino for Trumpet and Orchestra). Antonio Sanchez, drums; Joshua Redman, tenor saxophone; Derrick Hodge, bass; Jan Hasenohrl, trumpet; Tariq Trotter (a.k.a. Black Thought), vocals; Julia Bullock, vocals; Alexej Rosik, violin; Vince Mendoza, Czech National Symphony Orchestra. Modern Recordings 538668092.

This recent release from the Grammy award-winning American composer, arranger, and conductor Vince Mendoza (b. 1961) features music that hovers in a space that is not quite classical, not quite jazz, not quite film music, not quite protest music, but which blends elements of all those genres and more into a program of energetic and entertaining orchestral music mingled with other styles and voices. The featured work is his Concerto for Orchestra, about which he explains, “My approach is a departure from the traditions of an orchestra concerto. For me, it was more about having an arc that tells a particular story, but also incorporates rhythmic and melodic aspects of African American music and improvisation… Coinciding with the composition of the concerto was the 2016 saga of the election of ‘45’ and the resulting tremendous discord in the U.S. during that time. While writing this piece, the events happening in our country invaded my artistic space. For the first time I felt I couldn’t really write music and be removed from what was going on in our environment.  I started seriously considering the importance of an artist to reflect the times and how I could make my music a reflection not only of what I was witnessing but what I hoped would occur. So that’s when the arc of this concerto started to take shape. I sought to design the structure of the concerto to be inspired by M.L. King’s remarks on the moral universe, that the arc is long, but it bends toward justice. The beginning of the concerto (the first movement is called ‘American Noise’) reflects the discord that began leading up to the 2016 election. Of course, it pales in comparison to what we dealt with in 2020 and now 2021, but the arc of the composition goes through that process of pure noise, much needed consolation and the need for ‘hitting the streets’. The end of the concerto seeks to reflect justice and the hope for a peaceful resolution to what we were only entering in 2016. Arguably in 2021 we still haven’t quite gotten there.”

The Concerto is in six relatively short movements, the longest being the opening American Noise at 9:47, all the way down to the Finale at only 2:17. Between the fifth movement (Justice and the Blues) and Finale, there is a brief (1:27) interlude (Freedom over Everything) featuring rapper Black Thought. Drummer Antonio Sanchez, who has played with guitarist Pat Metheny and other jazz notables as well as leading ensembles of his own, adds a complex texture to the music as he comes in to join the orchestra along with electric guitar and later, the saxophone of veteran reedman Joshua Redman. The music has plenty of drive and energy, even in its less boisterous moments, with a kinetic feeling of motion to that suggests it would serve well as the score for a modern dance presentation.

Following the turmoil of his Concerto, Mendoza then presents music meant to calm, a setting of verse from the German poet Rilke titled To the Edge of Longing, featuring the rich soprano voice of Julia Bullock accompanied by the solo violin of Alexej Rosik and the orchestra. It truly is a beautiful work, flowing and melodic. The program concludes with New York Stories, a brief concertino for trumpet and orchestra that finds Mendoza returning to the jazz-tinged sound of the Concerto. The drums return, and on the whole, there is something of a film score vibe to this music, especially the sound of the orchestral strings. The end result is pleasant, but at least to these ears, not as striking as the other two works on the program. As far as the engineering goes, frequency balance and imaging are fine; however, be forewarned that this CD is mastered at a level that is clearly several dB higher than the norm for classical recordings, so you will want to back off a few notches on your volume control when auditioning it for the first time. You can always turn it up later, and well you might want to for such exuberant music, but better safe than sorry at the start…

Bach: The Art of Fugue. Les InAttendus (Vincent Lhermet, accordion; Marianne Muller, 7-string bass viol; Alice Piérot, violin). Harmonia Mundi HMM 905313.

Although modern scholarly consensus is that Bach’s The Art of Fugue was originally intended by the composer to be played at the keyboard, as with many other of Bach’s compositions, there have been many other transcriptions and arrangements performed and recorded over the years. Although my favorite is the organ and piano version by Glenn Gould, I have also enjoyed a string quartet version by the Emerson String Quartet, and have at times enjoyed and at other times loathed that infamous Bach/Malloch Sheffield production titled The Art of Fuguing. This new release for the unusual combination of violin, accordion, and bass viol gives the music a baroque sonority, yet because of the unfamiliar element of the accordion blending with the strings, there is a freshness to the sound that makes it piece seem new again. No, this is not a CD for everyone, but for devoted fans of J.S. Bach, it is well worth an audition.

Bonus Recommendation:

How Shostakovich Changed My Mind. Johnson, Stephen. Notting Hill Editions Ltd (2018).

Especially for – but certainly not only for – fans of the music of the great Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich, this brief book of just over 150 pages offers some fascinating insights into his music. It does so not by presenting dry academic musicological analyses, but rather by offering penetrating personal insights into not only the composer and his music, but also into the effects his music can have upon those who listen with real purpose. As the note on the back cover explains, “music broadcaster and composer Stephen Johnson explores how Shostakovich’s music took shape under Stalin’s reign of terror, and how it gave form to the fears and hopes of an oppressed people. Johnson writes of the healing effect of music on sufferers of mental illness and tells of how Shostakovich’s music lent him unexpected strength in his struggle with bipolar disorder. Through interviews conducted with surviving members of Soviet orchestras, through his reading of philosophers, psychoanalysts, and neurologists, Johnson paints a compelling picture of one man’s music and its power to validate and sustain another man’s life.”

Now, that talk of philosophers and neurologists and psychoanalysts might make it sound as if this book might be a dense, heavy read, quite the opposite is true. Instead, Johnson is a skilled storyteller, and he weaves together a number of different threads – his own story, accounts of his interviews, his accounts of some of Shostakovichs’s compositions (including the Cello Concerto No. 1, String Quartet No. 8, Symphonies Nos. 4, 8, and 11) and how they affected his mental health and overall well-being – into a compelling story that is not just about Shostakovich, or music, but about the human condition and the challenges we all face as we make our way through life. Especially fascinating – offering insights both musical and psychological – are some interviews and analyses that reveal some of the hidden messages that Shostakovich wrote into his music, his way of taunting his tormentors without exposing himself openly to further persecution. This is a little volume that can easily be read in a day or two, but with a message that will resonate in readers’ hearts and minds for far longer.

KWN

Bach: Brandenburg Concertos (CD review)

Isabelle Faust, violin; Antoine Tamestit, viola; Akademie fur Alte Musik Berlin. Harmonia Mundi HMM 902686.87.

By Bill Heck and John J. Puccio

The Album According to Bill:

The six concertos known today as the Brandenburg Concertos (hereinafter the Brandenburgs) have a long and rather complicated history, both in their genesis and with their loss after Bach’s death and their rediscovery some 100 years later. Some of that history is described in the interesting liner notes for this new release; far more detail can be found with a bit of searching on the Internet.

For our purposes, though, it will be sufficient to note a couple of points. First, the Brandenburgs do not share a truly common heritage. Those unfamiliar with the works (are there any such classical music listeners?) or those who have heard them and have been wondering how they fit together, can take heart: they don’t fit together. The instrumentation differs from work to work, the compositional techniques vary, they do not have unifying themes such as a cycle of keys, some seem to have developed from earlier sketches while others have no obvious history, and so on. The unifying factor seems to have been that they all were sent, or perhaps presented by Bach, to the Margrave of Brandenburg (hence the name of the collection) as something in the nature of a job application in late March of 1721.

I should emphasize the difference in instrumental forces among the concertos: by my count, the First employs 20 musicians, while the Sixth requires only 7! Moreover, different instruments enter the mix in different concertos. For example, the Second and Fourth include parts for recorder, while the Fifth uses a flute; the remaining pieces use neither. Similarly, the oboe makes an appearance in the First (in fact, three oboes) and Second (only one oboe this time) and in none of the others. Even the harpsichord, so common in music of the era, shows up in only five of the six works. If you have wondered why the Concertos sound so different from each other, wonder no more.

Despite all this, or perhaps because of it, the Brandenburgs are among the best known and best loved of Bach’s works. While a huge variety of pieces for solo instruments are revered among musicians (think Violin Sonatas, the Cello Suites, works for organ, Goldberg Variations, etc.), and loads of pieces for larger ensembles are wonderful and reasonably popular (the English Suites, the French Suites, etc.), none of these have anywhere near the instant recognizability with the wider public as do the Brandenburgs. Why is that? Who knows? In some parallel universe, perhaps the Brandenburgs are of interest primarily to scholars while a collection of orchestral suites is heard everywhere.

Be that as it may, both the popularity of the Brandenburgs and their inherent musical value have brought forth an incredible number of recordings. These recordings variously use modern instruments and period instruments, with some transcriptions for completely different instruments. For example, an Internet search of a few seconds revealed arrangements of one or the other of these works for solo piano, for guitar, and for brass quintet. It would not be surprising to learn that one or more has been arranged for marching band or, for that matter, kazoo band.

Which brings us to another point of interest: Bach’s music (usually) survives such rearrangements and reinterpretations; indeed, they sometimes (often?) offer insights and perspectives that differ from, but seem as valid as, the originals. And that, in turn, brings us to the question of period versus modern instruments. The issue is not so much whether the work is somehow “better” on period instruments, with playing informed by period practices, supposed or real. Instead, and to my mind particularly with Bach, historically informed performances (HIPs, and yes, that is a real acronym) will offer new perspectives in somewhat the same way that transcriptions do. Naturally, HIP advocates will object that I have said this completely backwards: the HIPs are the base, and at best we can hope that modern performances are the ones that offer different perspectives, to which I respond with that truly intellectual slogan “Whatever.” The point is that, even if you have one or several favorite recordings done to modern standards on modern instruments, and even if you have doubts about the wonders of HIP in general, you really should hear one or more HIPs of the Brandenburgs.

Which brings us to the Akademie fur Alte Musik Berlin, hereinafter the Akademie. This is a well-known ensemble that has been around since 1982 and consists of about 30 musicians. As the name implies, the group is oriented toward HIPs, and the members do play period instruments or, in many cases, copies thereof. That latter can be a good thing: while instruments like Stradivarius violins get the headlines and still sound fabulous, a lot of “real” period instruments that are still around either were not all that well made in the first place or are the worse for wear. Many of the instruments used in these recordings were modern copies, not originals and, as the liner notes point out, these instruments often do sound better than the originals.

The Akademie recorded these same works for the same label 25 years ago on a critically well-received two-disk set, one that was for many years my own go-to version. While the years have brought changes, perhaps one third of the personnel credited on the earlier release are still around for the newer one. Considering the passage of about 25 years, the better part of a musical career at this level, between the two sets of recordings, that strikes me as impressive continuity. For this recording, the permanent ensemble forces are joined by star violinist Isabelle Faust and violist Antoine Tamestit. So, do the results justify another shot?

I think so, for two reasons. First, the main criticism that I”ve seen of the first effort is that the playing is impeccable, but perhaps a little too impeccable. Some listeners heard a certain lack of spontaneity or passion: all the notes in the right places, but in the end not as exciting as one would hope. While the music here should not be exciting in the manner of a full-blown romantic concerto, some thought that Bach’s music should generate a little more sense of energy than present on that first go-round. Whatever the merits of that criticism, any doubts should be removed by this newer set. The differences in playing are not huge, but most of the tempi are a little faster and there’s just a little more sprightliness, for want of a better word, in the playing. Again, this is a subtle effect, perhaps not noticeable on first hearing, but I found myself listening a little more eagerly, a little more attentively to the new set.

Speaking of energy, I should note that the tempi are quicker than many other versions, including the earlier Akademie set. Somewhat surprisingly, though, they never sounding rushed. This is particularly noticeable in the Third: the opening movement is quick, but the allegro third movement bursts out of the gate at an amazing clip. It seems even faster than it is because it follows a very sedate, very short (16 second!) adagio. Nevertheless, the tempi feel right, and the players are very much up to the task of keeping it together.

The second reason that justifies this new release in the presence of the older one is the upgrade in sound, particularly in clarity. It’s a little easier to hear individual parts, even though the newer version may have been recorded in a slightly more reverberant environment. How much of this is due to the musicians (instruments, intentional balances, even positioning of the players) and how much is due to improved recording technique is hard to tell. But I find the presentation on the new disks a little clearer, a little more spacious, than that on the old.

And how does this recording measure up against the best other versions out there? With so many versions and variations available, I certainly am not going to start a discussion about the “best.” But to my ears, these are top-rank performances in very good sound, surely somewhere in the top tier of HIPs. I don’t see how you could go wrong with this set.

BH

The Album According to John:

The first set of Brandenburg Concertos I remember hearing on period instruments was a 1976 Seon production with what must be considered an all-star cast: Gustav Leonhardt, Frans Bruggen, Anner Bylsma, Lucy van Dael, Sigswald and Wieland Kuijken, and others. Their performances seem almost quaint by today’s standards, but they are still charming and the recording is exceptionally good. I mention this because that old set makes an interesting comparison to this new period-instrument production from the Akademie fur Alte Musik Berlin, with violinist Isabelle Faust and violist Antoine Tamestit.

Much has changed in the world of historically informed performance practice since 1976, especially in terms of tempi. That is no more in evidence than in this second of the Akademie’s recordings of the set (their first was in the late nineties). I have always liked the Akademie and their HIP performances, but here they may have taken things a tad too far. While the Akademie’s faster tempos in some of the concertos may seem initially quite exhilarating, they tend eventually to tire one out. They aren’t so fast as to be objectionable, mind you, but they do sort of suck the life out of some of the music in the long haul. And yet...and here’s the odd thing...while the Akademie play much of the concertos at a healthy clip, they also manage to sound quite elegant. It’s something listeners may find either pleasantly refreshing or a tad disconcerting.

Moving along, you probably know by now that Bach’s six Brandenburg Concertos sound different from one another because the composer never meant them to be a single, unified group. In 1719 Margrave Christian Ludwig of Brandenburg commissioned Bach to write several musical works for him, and what he got (several years later) was a collection of concertos for various-sized ensembles and solo instruments that Bach had probably written earlier for other occasions. (It was not uncommon in those days for composers to borrow from one another and even from themselves.)

The Concerto No. 1 is among the longest of the concertos, and Bach arranged it for the biggest number of players. In the Akademie’s performance, the second-movement Adagio comes off sweetly. The third movement nicely integrates the soloists and accompaniment, and the work ends with a refined minuet. Still, things seemed a touch rushed to me overall.

Concerto No. 2 is among the most popular of the concertos and highlights the oboe, recorder, violin, and trumpet, the latter getting the lion’s share of attention. On some recordings the trumpet can be too bright, edgy, or forward, but here it sounds just right. The interaction of the soloists is delightful, and if the rest of the accompaniment seems merely perfunctory, well, that’s Bach’s doing, not the Akademie’s. Regardless, the piece comes off with a quick-paced, stylish, yet graceful charm.

Insofar as I can tell, Concerto No. 3 is as popular as No. 2, maybe even more so; therefore, it’s equally probable that listeners may have certain expectations for it. Certainly, the Akademie attacks the piece with vigor, but I’m not sure their enthusiasm is entirely well guided. I suspect it’s just that I am used to a more moderate approach even from a HIP performance, say that of Trevor Pinnock in the second of his recordings of the Brandenburgs (Avie), an interpretation that is warmly affectionate rather than quite so gung-ho. Whatever, let’s just say the Akademie’s reading is invigorating.

For me, No. 4 is the most playful of the Concertos, with the soloists darting in and out of the work’s structure. For some reason, it always reminds me of children’s music, like Leopold Mozart’s Toy Symphony or something. Whatever, the recorders are the stars of the show. The Akademie do it up in fine style, this time not rushing through anything and adding an impish charm to the proceedings. The audio is also among the best on the set, possibly given the smaller ensemble size. Whatever, it was my favorite performance of any in the set.
 
Concerto No. 5 as another one of my preferred concertos, highlighting as it does solos from the violin, flute, and harpsichord. Also, because it involves a relatively small ensemble, it ensures a greater clarity of sound than the other concertos. What’s more, it’s here, maybe for the first time ever, that a composer lets the harpsichord gets its day in the sun, not merely accompanying the other instruments but playing an equal part in the proceedings. Here, too the intimacy of the smaller group makes for a lovely rendition, and the playing of the Akademie is quite secure, the harpsichord certainly. I loved what the group did with both Nos. 4 and 5.

Finally, there’s Concerto No. 6, which uses the smallest ensemble, yet never seems to feel small. Its only real drawback is its melodic similarity to Concerto No. 3 and its consequent lack of much real distinctiveness. Nevertheless, it’s hard for one seriously to dislike it, particularly in the lively yet tasteful manner the Akademie approach it.

Producer Florian B. Schmidt and sound engineer Aki Matusch recorded the music at Médiapôle Saint-Césaire, Arles, France in March and May 2021. There is enough hall resonance (sometimes too much) to make even the smaller ensembles sound big, which can produce a pleasing, even soothing effect but does tend to obscure some inner detailing in the larger ensemble pieces like Nos. 1, 2, and 3. The sound is also slightly warm and soft, so ultimate transparency in the larger pieces is sometimes sacrificed for a more natural listening experience. Nevertheless, these are quibbles, and it was good to hear the sound getting better and better as the set proceeded.

JJP

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

Recent New Releases (CD mini-reviews)

By
Karl W. Nehring

Hilary
Hahn: Paris
Chausson:
Poème; Prokofiev: Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No. 1;
Rautavaara: Deux Sérénades. Hilary Hahn, violin; Mikko Franck, Orchestre
Philharmonique de Radio France. Deutsche Grammophon  483 9847.

This
new release from the talented American violinist Hilary Hahn is a delight from
start to finish. Although the album title and orchestra might lead you to
assume a program featuring all French composers, that is not the case here, for
in addition to the French composer Ernest Chausson (1855-1899) we have also
music by the Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953) and the Finnish
composer Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928-2016). Hahn reveals her deep affection for
and kinship with the City of Light in an essay in which she explains that in
addition to her many other connections with Paris, her violin was made in Paris
way back in 1865 by a famed luthier whose shop has in the 21st century been
replaced by a convenience store. On a brighter note, she also reveals that she
had long desired to record the Prokofiev, one of her favorite and
most-performed pieces, but was waiting for the right combination of time,
place, orchestra, and conductor, which she realized in Paris with Franck and
the OPRF in June of 2019. The end result is truly lovely, well worth the wait
both for her and for us. Those who might associate Prokofiev with spiky,
boisterous music would do well to listen to this performance of his Violin
Concerto No. 1, which is lyrical, lively, and lovely. Hahn describes the
Chausson Poème with which she opens the program as “raw, lush,
heartbreakingly beautiful… it takes my breath away.” Although I have in the
past owned recordings of this piece, and enjoyed them, I had not heard the
piece in many years until I auditioned this new recording, and yes, I found it
to be much as she described. It truly is a marvelous work, well worth seeking
out if you have not yet encountered it. The background story behind the Deux
Sérénades by Rautavaara that complete this release is told in the liner
notes, a tale that I will not relate here but will rather leave for those who
might be interested to seek out for themselves. The music is quite enjoyable,
but in truth, does not quite sound complete, which a reading of the liner notes
will explain. All in all, Paris is a heartfelt and satisfying release
from some consummate musicians.

Parallels:
Shellac Reworks by Christian Löffler
Wagner:
Parsifal: Closing Scene (Arr. for Orchestra). Max von Schillings,
Staatskapelle Berlin (1926-27); Smetana: The Moldau (excerpt). Erich
Kleiber, Staatskapelle Berlin (1928); J.S. Bach: Dir, dir Jehova, will ich
singen BWV 452. Karl Straube, Thomanerchor Leipzig; Helmut Walcha, organ
(1927); J.S. Bach: Gavotte from English Suite No. 6, BWV 811. Alfred
Grunfeld, piano (1911); Chopin: Nocturne No. 2 in E flat Major Op. 9 No. 2 (arr.
De Sarasate). Charles Cerne, piano; Vasa Prihoda, violin (1929); Bizet: Nadir’s
Aria from Les pecheurs des perles. Koloman von Pataky, tenor; unknown
orchestra (1928); excerpts from four works by Beethoven: Symphony No. 6.
Hans Pfitzner, Staatskapelle Berlin (1930); Symphony No. 5, 2. Satz.
Richard Strauss, Staatskapelle Berlin (1928); Egmont Overture. Otto
Klemperer, Staatskapelle Berlin (1927); Symphony No. 3, 2. Marcia funebre.
Hans Pfitzner, Berliner Philharmoniker (1929). Christian Löffler, electronics.
Deutsche Grammophon 4839660.

This
is a recording that truly blends the old and the new. Deutsche Grammophon has
one of the oldest sound archives in the world, having taken great care to store
their recorded material ever since the label’s foundation in 1898. Shellac
discs (78s) that held about four minutes of music per side were the dominant
recording format until the 1940s. A number of these historic recordings have
now been digitized and restored, and DG recently teamed with German DJ and
producer Christian Löffler, who hand-picked from this collection of digitized
shellac recordings a set for modern reworking. Löffler is a self-taught
musician whose productions combine elements of dancefloor techno and ambient
electronica. He says that his music “is often described as nostalgic, it’s just
part of my musical world. Sad music – if you want to call it that – has always been
more appealing to me than happy music… I’m quite nerdy when it comes to trendy
music production techniques. I’m very forward thinking and always interested in
new technologies. But many of my trademark sounds come from vintage
synthesizers and old effects devices. I’m just trying to catch the best of any
time period to get the best possible result. My aspiration with this project
was to handle the music with all due respect. That is something I always do
when I work with other people’s music, be it a remix or collaboration. My aim
for Parallels was to bring the soul of my own music into these original
pieces. I also wanted to keep some parts of the original music almost
untouched, to give the listener a better understanding of the original material
in the context of its new ‘home’.” Yes, his description sounds a bit bizarre,
but the end result is fascinating, hypnotic, and haunting. Electronic sounds,
acoustic sounds, voices from nearly a century ago rising from the mix -- this
is a recording that can be enjoyed both in casual and concentrated listening
modes.

Refraction
Alexander
Woods, violin; Rex Woods, piano; Aubrey Smith Woods, violin. MSR Classics MS
1689.

As
you might guess from the names of the performers, this album of music for
violin is a family affair, presented by violinist Alexander Woods along with
his pianist father, Rex Woods, and his violinist wife, Aubrey Smith Woods.
(Perhaps I am being overly sensitive, but I did find it rather odd that on both
the front and back covers the three names are printed in three distinctly
rank-ordered font styles: ALEXANDER WOODS, REX WOODS, Aubrey Smith
Woods. Hmmmm…)  The four composers are a
mix of the familiar and unfamiliar: Dvorak, Asplund, Mozart, and Thorndock. As
the liner notes explain, “although the violin itself has remained virtually
unchanged for centuries, music composed for the instrument has undergone
numerous and vivid transformations, shaped and developed by varied
circumstances, styles and innovations. Like a light beam passing through a prism.
Works written for the violin have, over time, refracted into a broad stylistic
array of vibrant compositional perspectives. This album mingles canonic violin
works from the past with recent compositions that explore this variegated play,
engaging with the rich history of violin music and performance through myriad
lenses.” The album opens with Four Romantic Pieces from Dvorak for
violin and piano, which are played here most romantically and enjoyably, a fine
way to start the program. Unfortunately, the next composition, One Eternal
Round for two violins by Canadian-American composer Christian Asplund (b.
1964), does not fall nearly as naturally on the ear as the others included in
this set. Although it is not aggressively harsh or dissonant as some contemporary
music can be, to these ears at least, it simply lacked any real appeal. YMMV.
But then the players move back to familiar ground with Mozart’s Violin
Sonata No. 26, a refreshing drink of cool, clear water after the dryness of
the Asplund. The final composition, A Crust of Azure by American
composer Neil Thorndock (b. 1977), is said in the liner notes to be “influenced
by the impression of music coming down from the sky, ringing like
reverberations from a bell tower. The evocative movement titles [I. Tremulous
Whirl, II. Refraction of Sky, III. Lavender Shroud] allude to the atmospheric
colors, light effects and sensations that descend from the sky’s ‘crust of
azure.’”  It truly is a colorful piece,
lively and imaginative, well worth an audition for fans of the violin who are
seeking interesting new repertoire. With excellent engineering and helpful
liner notes, MSR Classics has done a first-class job with this release.    

Max
Richter: Voices 2
Max
Richter, piano, keyboards, organ, synthesizer; Mari Samuelsson, solo violin;
Ian Burdge, solo cello; Camilla Pay, harp; Robert Ziegler, conductor; Tenebrae
Choir; various sopranos and altos plus a number of violin, viola, cello, and
double bass players. Decca B00332480-02.

Although Richter’s previous release, Voices (reviewed ) spotlighted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, including spoken recitations of the text, Voices 2 is exclusively musical, with no textual recitations. According to Richter, Voices 2 “opens up a meditative instrumental musical space to consider the ideas raised by the first record. The music is less about the world we know already and more about the hope for the future we have yet to write.” Those familiar with Richter’s music will know what to expect: music that is on the one hand relatively simple and straightforward in terms of its melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic construction, yet on the other hand, rich and evocative in terms of its instrumentation, sonority, and emotional resonance. There are some striking sounds to be heard from Richter’s various keyboard instruments both acoustic and electronic, plus some particularly notable musical contributions by Mari Samuelsson on violin and Ian Burdge on cello. And no, you need not have listened to Voices to enjoy its successor, which is quite enjoyable on its own terms. 

Lento
Religioso
Berg:
Piano Sonata op. 1 (arr. Wijnand van Klaveren); Korngold: Lento
Religioso from Symphonic Serenade; Bruckner; Adagio from String Quintet;
Bridge: Lament for string orchestra (for Catherine, aged 9, “Lusitania”
1915); Lekeu: Adagio pour quatuor d’orchestre; Wagner: Prelude
from Tristan und Isolde; Strauss; Prelude from Capriccio. Candida
Thompson, Amsterdam Sinfonietta. Channel Classics CCS 36620.

As a
glance at the titles of the works included in this generously filled (77:41)
disc should suggest, this release features music from the more serious, somber
pages of the classical music catalog. That is not to say, however, that
listening to it is an emotional downer, as this is music of great depth and
exquisite beauty, played with sensitivity by this relatively small string
orchestra. Some of the selections are scaled down (e.g., the Wagner), some are
scaled up (e.g., the Berg and the Bruckner), and some were originally intended
for an ensemble of about this size. The engineering is first-rate, with clean
string tone and a believable soundfield. All in all, an interesting program of
some works a bit off the beaten path that should be especially appealing to
those who appreciate music of a serious, reflective, but nonetheless
aesthetically engaging nature.

Lindberg:
The Waves of Wollongong
Also,
Liverpool Lullabies; 2017. The New Trombone Collective; Evelyn
Glennie, percussion; Christian Lindberg, trombone and conductor, Antwerp
Symphony Orchestra. BIS-2148 SACD.

If I
had to come up with a one-word description of this release by the Swedish
composer, trombonist, and conductor Christian Lindberg (b. 1958) it would be
“robust.” Or maybe “outgoing.” Or possibly even “swaggering.” It most certainly
would not be “reticent” or “tentative.” The opening piece, The Waves of
Wollongong (the title refers to waves the composer had experienced in
Wollongong, Australia) features the nine trombones (three each alto, tenor, and
bass) of The New Trombone Collective making mighty waves of sound along with
the orchestra, while the second piece, Liverpool Lullabies, seems hardly
the sort of music to little ones to sleep as Lindberg on trombone and the
amazing Ms. Glennie on percussion give off plenty of sparks with their
energetic playing. The final piece, 2017, was composed by Lindberg
during that turbulent, discouraging, frightening year as a reaction to the 2016
U.S. presidential election and its disturbing aftermath, and is dedicated to
the journalist Rachel Maddow. Needless to say, it is not a cheerful piece, but
it is musically engaging. As per their usual standard, the BIS engineering team
has captured this robust music in robust, dynamic, swaggering sound that will
tickle your tweeters and waggle your woofers.

Vaughan
Williams: Symphonies Nos. 4 and 6
Sir
Antonio Pappano, London Symphony Orchestra. LSO Live SACD LSO0867.

Vaughan
Williams may well be the most underrated symphonic composer. For my money, his
nine rank right up there with the best, and when it comes to the heart of his
symphonic output, Symphonies Nos. 3, 4, 5, and 6, I can’t think of any
composer whose 4-6 I would rate above RVW’s – not Mahler, not Bruckner, not
Sibelius, and no, not even the immortal Beethoven. Of those four RVW
symphonies, the odd-numbered are primarily lyrical and peaceful, while the two
even-numbered symphonies, especially No.4, are much more brash and
assertive. Pappano and the LSO hold nothing back, with the opening notes of No.
4 bursting forth with startling ferocity. This bold beginning sets the tone
for the entire disc, which presents both symphonies forcefully and
energetically. My only quibble is with some harshness in the upper strings; to
be honest, I am not sure how much is the engineering or how much can be
attributed to the vigor of the performance. My first choice in both symphonies has been the Slatkin recordings from his RCA boxed set (now distributed by Sony Music at a bargain price), but for those looking for a single disc of these two remarkable 20th century masterpieces, this new release from Pappano and the LSO is a top choice. Highly recommended.

KWN