Things Lived and Dreamt (CD Review)

 by Karl Nehring

Leoš Janáček (1828-1854): Sonata 1.X.1905 – Předtucha (Lepressentiment/ The Presentiment) Con moto; Smrt (La mort / The Death) Adagio; Josef Suk (1874–1935): Jaro (Printemps / Spring), Op. 22a, No.5 Vroztoužení (Ledésir/Longing) Allegro non troppo; Antonín Dvořák (1841–1904) Humoresques, Op. 101 (1894) -- No. 4, Poco andante, fa majeur/F Major; No.7, Poco lento e grazioso–sol bémol majeur/G-Flat Major; No.8, Poco andante–si bémol mineur/B-Flat Minor; Suk: Životem a snem (Things Lived and Dreamt), Op. 30 -- I Allegretto moderato – S humorem a ironií, místy rozdurděně (With humour and irony, agitated in places); II Allegro vivo – Neklidně a nesměle, bez silnějšího výrazu (Restless and somewhat timid, without strongly marked expression); III Andante sostenuto–Tajemně a velmi vzdušně (Mysterious and light and airy); IV Poco allegretto – Zamyšleně, později stále výbojněji (Contemplative, then increasingly resolute in mood); V Adagio – K uzdraveni mého syna (For my son’s recuperation) – Klidně, shlubokým citem (Calm, with deep feeling); VI Moderato quasi allegretto – S výrazem tiché, bezstarostné veselosti (With quiet, carefree cheer); VII Adagio non tanto – Jednoduše, později s výrazem drtivé moci (Forthright, later with the expression of overpowering force); VIII Vivace – Jemně, švitorně (Delicate, warbling); IX Poco Andante – Šepotavě a tajemně (Whispering and mysterious); X Adagio – Zapomenutým rovům v koutku hřbitova křečovického (Dedicated to forgotten graves in the Křečovice cemetary – Snivě (Dreamy); Vítězslava Kaprálová (1915–1940): Dubnová Preludia (Préludes d’avril / April Preludes), Op. 13 -- I Allegro ma non troppo; II Andante; III Andante semplice; IV Vivo; Bedřich Smetana (1824–1884): Czech Dances 1, JB 1: 107 – Polka No.2 en la mineur/in A Minor – Moderato. Francine Kay, piano. Analekta AN 2 9004

 

The Canadian pianist Francine Kay is currently on the faculty at Princeton University, plus she also does some teaching in at an institute in France. On this new album, however, her focus is on music by Czech composers. The album opens with music by Janáček, who the liner notes point out was the most widely performed Czech opera composer. His composition for piano on this album, Sonata 1.X.1905, was inspired by a tragic event of which the composer was an eyewitness, the killing of an unarmed demonstrator by a German soldier. The sonata was originally in three movements, but the composer discarded the third before the work was premiered. The remaining two as played here give off an underlying sense of uneasiness, yet with an undeniable lyrical appeal that Kay illuminates with a deft touch. Next up is the first of two compositions on the program by Josef Suk, who not only was a student of the famed Czech composer but was also in fact his son-in-law. Longing is a brief selection lasting just under four minutes, but it packs  plenty of lyricism into that brief span, sounding much like one of the more romantic pieces of Liszt. It is music imbued with tender emotion, this piece that was inspired by the birth of Suk’s son.

Connecting Cultures: Four hand music from around the world (CD Review)

 by Karl Nehring

Dvořák: Slavonic Dance, Op 46. No. 8; Slavonic Dance, Op. 72 No. 2; Mozart: Andante and Five Variations in G major, K. 501; Wang Jianzhong: Colorful Clouds Chasing the Moon; Gong Huahua: Mountain Harvest: Manuel de Falla: Two Spanish Dances from “La Vida Breve”; Amy Marcy Cheney Beach: Summer Dreams, Op. 47; Florence Beatrice Price: Three Negro Spirituals – I Couldn’t Hear Nobody Pray; Lord I Want to Be a Christian; Ev’ry Time I Feel the Spirit; Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue (arranged by Henry Levine). Deborah Moriarty and Zhihua Tang, piano. Blue Griffin BGR633

 

This is one of those releases about which I just wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The program looked to be a mix of composers both familiar and unknown, the performers were both unknown to me, and I wondered what the arrangements for piano four hands would sound like – especially Rhapsody in Blue. For piano four hands? Really?? But no matter what questions or doubts I or any potential listener might have about this or any other recording, the music itself is what actually counts, so I just popped the disc into the player, settled into my listening chair, grabbed the remote, and pushed the PLAY button.

 The familiar melodies of the two Dvořák Slavonic Dances open the program with energy and enthusiasm from the four busy hands at the keyboard, with the sound matching the performance, lively and assertive – just right for this music. The following Andante and Five Variations by Mozart are in a more stately, buttoned-down style, but they still have an element of the dance about them, which the two pianists clearly communicate. Colorful Clouds Chasing the Moon by Wang Jianzhong (1933–2016), turns out to be as perfectly pleasant as its title implies, with a rhythmic pulse beneath and some fluttering melodies in the upper registers. Mountain Harvest by Gong Huahua (b. 1978) makes a different impression with its more serious, slightly dissonant sound. That said, it is not a forbidding piece; if anything, it has moments of playfulness and mystery. Overall, it is an intriguing work, one that invites repeated listening. 

 

It's then back to more familiar names, although not all of the music will be familiar to most listeners. From Manuel de Falla we get Two Spanish Dances from his opera La Vida Breve, which as you might expect, receive a splashy, extroverted performance from the two pianists, who are both on the faculty at the Michigan State University College of Music. The two women pianists next bring us music by two distinguished  American women composers. Amy Beach (1867-1944) was the first American female composer to have a symphony performed by a major orchestra (the Boston Symphony Orchestra premiered her “Gaelic” Symphony in 1896), while Florence Beatrice Price (1887-1953) was the first African-American woman to have a composition performed by a major orchestra (the Chicago Symphony performed her Symphony in E Minor in 1933).  Beach’s Summer Dreams comprises a half-dozen short musical sketches titled The Brownies, Robin Redbreast, Twilight, Katy-dids, Elfin Tarantelle, and Good Night. The first (which is the longest at 3:46) is dance-like, the next four (none of which is lasts more than two minutes) are generally playful, and then Good Night (longer again at 2:59) is, as you might expect, calmer in mood. Price’s Three Negro Spirituals are simply her brief arrangements of three spirituals: I Couldn’t Hear Nobody Pray (1:53), Lord I Want to Be a Christian(4:03), and Ev’ry Time I Feel the Spirit (1:32). Hearing the first of these immediately brought to mind the gospel stylings of Keith Jarrett in some of his solo improvisations, such as in parts of his Köln Concert recording on ECM. The longest of these, Lord I Want to Be a Christian, is slower, more intense, and quite moving in its own way. 

 

The two pianists end their program with a rousing rendition of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. This is a piece that has been played and recorded aa a concert piece for piano and full orchestra, as a more jazz-oriented piece for piano and jazz band – but who would have thought it would work so well as played on one piano by two pianists? These two artists did, and they were right. This is a marvelous performance of the work, exciting and involving from start to finish. With more than 74 minutes of well-recorded music from around the world including this revelatory performance of Gershwin’s showstopper, Connecting Cultures is an exciting new release.

Piano Potpourri, No. 8 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Dvorák: Poetic Tone Pictures Op. 85. Leif Ove Andsnes, piano. Sony Classics 19439912092.

For the majority of music lovers, piano music is probably not the first type of music that springs to mind when we think of Dvorák. In fact, it might not be the second – or even the third. My guess is that most of us would first think of the symphonies (especially the final three), then his cello or perhaps violin concerto, and then his chamber music (the “American” string quartet, the “Dumky” trio). And even if we did think of his piano music, chances are it was the familiar Humoresque, not the music that the Norwegian pianist Leif Ove Andsnes (b. 1970) brings to us here on this new disc from Sony Classics. On this release we once again encounter the tale of a musician using the break imposed by the COVID-19 pandemic to produce something positive – in tbis case, Andsnes dove into these solo piano works of Dvorák and studied them in depth, discovering that the composer had hoped that pianists would play them not just individually, but together. The end result is this recording, which is a sheer delight from start to finish. There are 13 pieces that make up the set, each given a brief descriptive title (e. g., “Twilight Way,” “Spring Song,” “On the Holy Mountain”). The liner notes offer a condensed overview of the set along with a few comments by Andsnes. The mood varies from piece to piece, but the overall feeling is tuneful and entertaining. This is one of the albums that it is simply difficult to imagine anyone not enjoying.   

Mozart: The Piano Sonatas. Robert Levin, fortepiano. ECM New Series 2710-16 (7 CDs).

Although Mozart’s piano sonatas are not – at least for me – not quite at the same exalted artistic level as those by Beethoven or Schubert, they are still wonderful works, full of marvelous melodies and a wide range of emotional expression. To have a complete set presented to us by an artist such as the American musicologist and pianist Robert Levin (b. 1947) is an occasion worth noting. Levin is well known in musicology circles for his studies of Mozart and his painstaking completions of some of Mozart’s fragmentary manuscripts. In this set, for example, he includes his completions of three sonata movement fragments in addition to a fantasia and tbe 18 complete sonatas, which he performs in order. There are extensive liner notes that discuss the music, including Levin’s reconstruction work, and the instrument.

Ah, the instrument… The album cover proclaims that the sonatas are performed “on Mozart’s fortepiano.” There is an essay discussing the construction, sound, and history of the instrument included in the liner notes, in which it is noted that Moaart himself did some of his composing on this instrument, which was later gifted to one of his sons, and that Mendelssohn once tickled its keys. Eventually it was given to a museum, and now through the efforts of ECM and no doubt in recognition of Levin’s world-class reputation as a Mozart scholar the instrument was made available for this recording. Of Levin’s profound knowledge of Mozart’s music and his ability to play it in an appropriate style there can be no doubt. Indeed, the music flows from his fingers with remarkable facility. For lovers of Mozart’s piano music, this set is going to be a must-have. The only reservation that keeps me from making an enthusiastic general recommendation. Is the sound of the instrument itself, a sound that is closer to that of a harpsichord than to a modern piano. For some, that will not be an issue, but for others, it might well be an insurmountable obstacle to their listening enjoyment. Still, everything about this release is first-class. The packaging, the liner notes, the performances, the engineering – this is truly an outstanding release.

Mozart: Complete Piano Sonatas Volume 1. No. 3 in B-flat Major K.281; No. 13 in B-flat Major K.333; No. 17 in B-flat Major K.570. Orli Shaham, piano. Canary Classics CC19.

Mozart: Complete Piano Sonatas Volumes 2 & 3. Vol. 1: No. 9 in A Minor K.310; No. 12 in F Major K.332; No. 18 in D Major K.576.  Vol. 2: No. 9 in A Minor K.310; No. 12 in F Major K.332; No. 18 in D Major K.576.  Orli Shaham, piano. Canary Classics CC21.

There are several contrasts between this set and the Levin set reviewed above. Most obviously, the Levin set is complete, while this new set by American pianist Orli Shaham (b. 1975) is ongoing (Vol. 1 was released in 2020, Vols. 2 & 3 in 2022, with Vols. 4 and 5 slated for release in the spring and summer of 2023, respectively). Another striking contrast is in the sound. While Levin recorded his set on “Mozart’s piano,” Shaham has chosen to record on a modern Steinway. As a further note about sound, the recording producer and editor for the series is the veteran Erica Brenner and the recording engineer for Vol. 1 and most of Vol. 2 was the late Michael Bishop (1951-2021), whom audiophiles may recognize as the engineer responsible for many of those spectacular Telarc recordings of days gone by. Following the loss of Bishop, engineering duties were taken over by Robert Friedrich, himself a top-rate engineer. Rest assured that Ms. Shaham – and your ears – have been afforded some state-of-the-art sonics.

Regarding the question of why do we need yet another recorded cycle of the Mozart piano sonatas, Shaham recognizes “that is the key question of the whole project… Part of the answer lies in then personal journey of discovery; part of it is in wanting to share with as many people as possible the results of what could so easily be a selfish process. I’ve found some very cool things along the way… I believe that most of us have understood during the Covid pandemic what performers have known for a long time: that there is no substitute for live music. Although these are recordings, I am trying here to capture then spontaneous feeling of live performance.”  In the liner notes for Vol. 1, she makes the interesting observation that “You don’t need to know anything about sonata form or the circumstances of Mozart’s life to love the opening melody of K. 333. The beauty of Mozart is that it communicates directly on that level. It’s clear to anyone who listens to his operas that K. 333 starts with a single melodic idea, not four separate motifs, which is perhaps how many pianists would think of it. I believe that contemplating things from the perspective of the voice is crucial for Mozart – very few of his lines in the piano sonatas and other instrumental works are not vocally inspired. Everything is singable; it’s rare to find intervals in Mozart’s music that are not. In so many ways, Mozart taught the keyboard to sing.” There is indeed a fluid, singing quality to Shaham’s playing that is engaging and pleasurable. Add to that the beautifully captured sound of her piano and you wind up with Mozart recordings that are well-nigh irresistible.

Dawn. Ola Gjeilo, piano. Decca Classics 4852954.

Norwegian-born composer and pianist Ola Gjeilo (b. 1978) lives in the United States. He has written for both choir and piano. My first exposure to his music was several years ago when I first heard his 2012 Chandos release Northern Lights, an album of choral music performed by the Phenix Chorale that I found I utterly spellbinding. Looking to find more music by this fascinating composer, I discovered a 2016 release simply titled Ola Gjeilo, which featured Voces8, Tenebrae, and the Chamber Orchestra of London. It was a nice album, but some of the music was the same as on the earlier recording. I later purchased a couple of solo piano recordings he had made for a small label. Although there was nothing spectacular about them, they were interesting in their own way. This new one, however, is a disappointment, comprising as it does music that never seems to rise above the merely pleasant. For a composer with Gjeilo’s talents, merely pleasant is not nearly enough. As they way in the sports world, “c’mon man!” Perhaps it is time to for Gjeilo to get back to choral writing.

KWN

Hilary Hahn: Eclipse (CD review)

Music of Dvorak, Ginastera, and Sarasate. Hilary Hahn, violin; Andres Orzco-Estrada, Frankfurt Radio Symphony. DG 486 2383.

By John J. Puccio

Hilary Hahn was probably born with a violin in her hand. Well, that’s close. She began playing the violin before she was four years old and made her concert stage debut at age eleven with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. She has played with virtually every major symphony orchestra since then, recorded a number of albums (mostly for DG and Sony), and won an appropriate number of awards. So, yes, any new recording from her is a welcome event.

On the current recording she turns her prodigious talent to the works of Dvorak (Violin Concerto), Ginastera (Violin Concerto), and Sarasate (Carmen Fantasy). She says she chose these three composers because she wanted to do a “deep dive in the Dvorak Violin Concerto,” has an “obsession with the tantalizing, magical weirdness of Ginastera’s Violin Concerto,” and has an “inhabitation of Sarastate’s spirited Carmen Fantasy.”

The program begins with the Violin Concerto in A minor, op. 53 by the Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904). He wrote it in 1879, intending it for the eminent Hungarian violinist Joseph Joachim, but Joachim, a noted traditionalist, objected to a number of elements in the concerto and never played it in public.

Anyhow, Dvorak begins the concerto with an Allegro ma non troppo (fast, but not too much), the "ma non troppo" marking used in all three movements, and the violin entering almost immediately. Joachim may have felt that the orchestra dominated the proceedings too much, but Dvorak made some revisions before premiering it. Here, both soloist and orchestra share equal billing, with Ms. Hahn’s virtuosic playing heading up a spirited account of the music. It’s perhaps a bit intimidating compared to, say, Itzhak Perlman’s rendering for EMI/Warner, who is a tick more relaxed though no slower. Still, Ms. Hahn gives us a bracing interpretation, and it may be enough for some listeners, especially fans, to enjoy.

The slow central section, the Adagio ma non troppo, is the impassioned heart of the work. Again, Dvorak's marking indicates he didn't want the soloist or orchestra to take things too slowly, possibly not to make the music too sentimental. The movement became so popular that concert violinists often perform it as a stand-alone item. It’s in this slower section that Ms. Hahn shows us her mastery of subtlety and nuance, with a lovely handling of the more delicate aspects of the movement.

In the Finale Dvorak returns to the tuneful Czech folk melodies of the opening movement, and Ms. Hahn takes special delight in them. Still, I did not find Ms. Hahn’s overall reading quite as light-footed, as nimble, as dexterous as those of Perlman (EMI/Warner), Mutter (DG), or Barton Pine (Avie), so I could not count it among the best recorded performances available. Still, there is no question it’s a formidable version, vigorous and heady.

In addition to the Dvorak concerto, Ms. Hahn performs the Violin Concerto, op. 30 by the Argentinean composer Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983). For me, this was the highlight of the album. The piece is divided into eleven short segments, each of them a little weirder than the previous one, and each of them rendered with consummate skill. It’s as though Ms. Hahn is relishing every bizarre moment of the score, and she communicates her enthusiasm easily to the listener. The Dvorak may be the album’s draw, but the Ginastera is the keeper.

Ms. Hahn closes the show with a genuine show-stopper, the Carmen Fantasy by the Spanish violinist, conductor, and composer Pablo Sarasate (1844-1908). It is, of course, a well-known violin fantasy in five brief movements, adapted from the music of Bizet’s opera Carmen. The piece requires a good deal of delicacy from the violinist as well as an abundance of musical gymnastics, all of which Ms. Hahn negotiates with ease.

Producers Christoph Clasen and Hilary Hahn and engineer Philipp Knop recorded the album at hr-Sendesaal and Alte Oper, Frankfurt, Germany in April and June 2021. The miking has nicely captured the violin in regard to the orchestra, not too far in front and centrally positioned. The violin tone is also realistically rendered, if a touch bright at the upper end. So is the orchestra, which can be very dynamic but somewhat forward and, at times, a trifle intrusive. To my ears it’s more of a “hi-fi” sound than a purely natural one.

JJP

Schumann: Pictures from the East

Also, Brahms: Variations on a Theme of Robert Schumann; Dvořák: From the Bohemian Forest (Versions for Piano Four-Hands). Geister Duo. Mirare MIR610.

By Bill Heck

I’ve written in earlier reviews that it’s always a pleasure to find good recordings of lesser-known works, the ones – to use the cliché – off the beaten path. It’s not that any of us tire of listening to masterpieces by Bach, Beethoven, or Brahms, but some variety adds spice to life, right? If piano music for four hands can be called “spicy”, this recording fits right in.

Back in July of 2021, I reviewed a disk of piano works for four hands by Christophe Sirodeau and Anna Zassimova playing Dvorak’s Legends and From the Bohemian Forest. That review gave some background on the four-hand genre; I can wait while you check it out at https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2021/07/dvorak-legends-from-bohemian-forest-cd.html.

Ah, you’re back. The disk now in review overlaps the Sirodeau/Zassimova one with Dvorak’s Forest collection, omitting the Legends but adding works by Schumann and Brahms.
You needn’t worry, though; we’re unlikely to be overrun by piano four-hand performances anytime soon, and that’s kind of a shame because the four-hand repertoire is a rich one. It’s true that some of the literature consists of works originally written for orchestra or chamber ensembles and then redone by their composers in four-hand arrangements mainly – yes, we must admit it – to make a buck (or a thaler, lira, or franc). But that certainly is not true of the entire genre; often enough, it went in the other direction, especially with Dvorak. Regardless of what came first, sometimes the four-hand arrangements give different and interesting perspectives, or occasionally just downright sound better than the originals. In some cases, the four-hand versions are the only versions, as is the case with the works presented here.

On the current disk, the first work is Op. 66, Oriental Pictures or Pictures from the East (Bilder aus Osten) by Robert Schumann, which he described as six impromptus for four hands. Legend has it that the work was inspired by an Arabic poem, even though nothing here sounds very “oriental” at all. Be that as it may, the series was completed in 1848, the same year in which the far better-known Album for the Young was published as Op.68. This was a productive period for Schumann, and the work contains some very listenable music indeed. As usual, formal structure is not Schumann’s strongest suit, but there are imaginative episodes that are quite worth hearing, with moods shifting kaleidoscopically across and within the episodes.

The second work is Brahms’s Op. 23, Variations on a Theme of Robert Schumann (not to be confused with Op. 9, his work of the same title for solo piano). I won’t attempt to describe the deep and complicated relationships between Robert Schumann, Robert’s wife Clara, and Brahms; suffice it to say that Brahms was fond of and deeply indebted to both of the Schumanns, and this work was written around 1861 as a tribute to Robert after the latter’s death in 1856. Thus, the Variations allude to both the love and the sadness that Brahms felt; moreover, several themes and motives within the work either are quotations from Robert’s work or musical “codes” that refer to Robert or Clara. Fortunately, we all can appreciate the music without knowing the inner details. (If you are not familiar with the Schumann/Brahms story, it’s a fascinating topic. You can find summaries on the web or, for a deep dive on Brahms, check out Jan Swafford’s biography of Brahms.)

The third work on the disk, Dvorak’s Op. 68, From the Bohemian Forest, is perhaps the most distinctive in this collection. A series of Czech-inspired “scenes”, it begins with a rousing work that immediately calls to mind some of the composer’s better known Slavonic Dances: the same sorts of uniquely Czech rhythms incorporated in that country’s folk music of the time. This is not to say that the works are derivative; they stand wonderfully on their own and can be heard as a mix of “peasant scenes” or descriptions of nature (thus the “forest” in the title). Although varied in tempo and mood, the pieces are generally happy and full of life, making for enjoyable listening – and as I write this on a very cold day in January, these works strike me as just the thing not only to warm the spirit but also to stir the blood and warm the body!

Finally, this disk has one other thing going for it: really excellent sound. The recording is fairly close and on the dry side, meaning it does not capture a lot of room reverberation, which is perfect for allowing us to hear all those notes – there are four hands at work, after all. But by close, I don’t mean that it sounds as though the microphones were stuck inside the piano; the sound is rich and never fatiguing, with a real sense of presence in the room.

I see that I’ve not said much so far about the playing, so I’ll summarize: it’s very good. David Salmon and Manuel Vieillard, the two pianists who make up the Geister Duo, have worked together as a duo for about 10 years and it shows, with excellent and nuanced balance throughout between the two players. Searching for comparisons across other recordings was a challenge simply because I found no disks with exactly the same content. But in several comparisons of individual works, the quality of this disk was clear. For instance, in the Brahms Variations, the Geister Duo presents a more dynamic and nuanced view of the work (although, alas, all in one track on the CD rather than with the variations on separate tracks) than do Karsenti and Benzakoun, who sometimes seemed rushed and are further handicapped by rather clangorous sound. I’ve already mentioned Sirodeau and Zassimova in the Dvorak Bohemian Forest: here the call is tougher, with both versions offering excellent performances, but certainly the Duo holds its own. In the Schumann Oriental work, Martha Fischer and Bill Lutes offer solid performances as part of a 2-disk set of all of Schumann’s four-hand compositions, but I find the Geister Duo’s quicker tempi a bit more exciting.

If you would like to explore the world of four-hand piano works, this disk provides an excellent introduction. If you already are familiar with this literature, this set would be a worthy addition to your collection. By the way, the sample below is from the Dvorak Bohemian Forest set.

BH

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

Dvorak: Legends & From the Bohemian Forest (CD review)

Versions for Piano Four-Hands. Christophe Sirodeau and Anna Zassimova. Melism MLS-CD-027.

By Bill Heck

Reviewing yet another recording of, say, Dvorak’s 9th Symphony, the New World, is fun in its own way; sometimes one of us might uncover a real gem. But how much more enjoyable to bring lesser-known but still rewarding music to the attention of our readers! This review is solidly of the latter type.

Antonin Dvorak’s Legends are nowhere near as well-known or as oft-recorded as his late symphonies, although many classical music lovers will be familiar with the former in their orchestral forms. What many of us may not realize is that these works were originally written for piano, specifically as “four-hands” versions, meant to be played by two players on one piano – four hands in use.

But why would a composer write for two people playing one piano? The Legends were composed in 1881; From the Bohemian Forest in 1883-4. The popularity of four-hand compositions at the time was due to a confluence of factors. First, and this is something that should cause us to truly reflect on how different musical life is today, there were no recordings. While at least larger cities hosted concerts, any listening done at home was to people in the house actually playing music. Second, in the growing middle class, not to mention the upper class, some level of competence among family members playing musical instruments was a sign of culture, and a well-appointed home would have a piano. Third, large families were the order of the day. Add up these factors: several musical family members, one instrument (the piano), and a desire to hear music – and perhaps show off to the neighbors – and there you have it. (One is tempted to suppose that an excuse for musically inclined young men and women to sit close proximity without inciting waves of opprobrium might have had some influence as well.)

Of course, four-hand compositions did not start with Dvorak; they date from at least the late 18th century. For example, Mozart composed a few such works, and Schubert composed more, as did Brahms. Meanwhile, Dvorak’s earlier Slavonic Dances were originally four-hand piano compositions, although the orchestral versions are far more often heard today.

Despite the attractions of these compositions, there are limitations. First, it must be possible for the two people involved to play them successfully, which requires some limits on the range of each part. It is hard enough for a single pianist to cross one hand over the other as some compositions require; having two people with hands all over the same keyboard could be a recipe for disaster. Secondly, as the works were meant to be popular among amateur musicians, composers might take it easy and “dumb down” the works, lest those home musicians find the required techniques beyond their abilities. By no means is that always the case, but don’t expect Bach or Beethoven-like depth in this format.

So what about these works? Fortunately for us, Dvorak was really good at balancing the requirements of the form and still producing interesting and enjoyable music. I don’t suppose that many listeners would call these works profound, but they are charming and surprisingly robust (if I can use that term) in a musical sense. They certainly are not musical bon-bons, all sweetness and devoid of substance; they contain passages of drama and swagger, and Dvorak sneaks in some interesting – in a few cases almost radical – harmonies on occasion. Indeed, the Legends were substantive enough that Dvorak orchestrated them within a year or so of their original publication.

As with Sirodeau’s disk of the Brahms Intermezzi that I reviewed on this site a short time ago, Sirodeau and Zassimova do not play the compositions in chronological order. Instead, they are arranged in an order that the musicians find appealing. (The excellent liner notes for this album explain some of the reasoning behind the ordering.) There is no reason to suppose that Dvorak had a sequence in mind for these little gems, and surely he did not envision pianists playing through the entire sets at one sitting, so the ordering here should work nicely for all but the most obsessive sticklers. Similarly, modern-day listeners will not necessarily play the disk straight through as they would a symphony or sonata; this is the sort of music that one might sample from time to time. The ordering here makes this particularly easy: the repeating pattern is a piece from the Bohemian Forest followed by three Legends. Each of these sequences provides a coherent listening treat.

By this time, the attentive reader surely is asking how the artists play the music. In a word, excellently: these are seasoned musicians who obviously care about bringing forward some music that should be heard more often. And at this point in the review, I normally would toss in a few comparisons – but not this time. For one thing, there are only a small handful of disks (I found three) featuring both the Legends and Bohemian Forest in four-hand versions, and the thoughtful combination and (re)arrangement of the works found here makes this disk unique. Furthermore, if the playing were questionable in any noticeable way, I would spend more time worrying about the competition – but it’s not. That’s not to say that I ignored other recordings completely: I did a little sampling, but nowhere did I hear obviously superior playing, and the current disk has the advantage of up-to-date recording technology.

Speaking of the recording, the sound of the Melism recording is fine; clear, natural, and full range. To my ears, it falls just short of the best in terms of the “piano in the room” dynamism and naturalness; perhaps the sound is just a smidge flattened rather than fully three dimensional. But that’s a quibble, thought of only when concentrating strictly on the recorded sound.

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

Dvorak: The Late Symphonies (CD review)

Symphonies Nos. 6-9. David Bernard, Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Recursive Classics RC3137552 (2-disc set).

By John J. Puccio

Of the nine symphonies that Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote, it is his final three that have become his most popular and remain among the classical genre’s greatest hits. In the present album by David Bernard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony we get not only the last three symphonies, but the last four.

Yet that’s not all. Recursive Classics have fit the four symphonies onto two discs, and they are offering the 2-CD set for the price of a single disc. That seems to me a bargain upon a bargain. Of course, it wouldn’t be much of a deal if the performances and sound weren’t up the job. Fortunately, they are, making the set a bargain upon a bargain upon a bargain.

Now, about the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. It includes mainly players who do other things for a living (like being hedge-fund managers, philanthropists, CEO's, UN officials, and so on). They're not exactly amateurs, but they're not full-time, paid musicians, either. Happily, their playing dispels any skepticism about the quality of their work; everyone involved with the orchestra deserves praise. Nor is the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony a particularly small group. It's about the size of a full symphony orchestra, yet their performances are slightly more intimate and the sound slightly more transparent than most orchestras. It makes for a refreshing combination.

So, on to the program: Things begin with the Symphony No. 6 in D Major, Op. 60, which Dvorak wrote in 1880. It was the first of the composer’s large-scale works to get the world’s attention. While  adhering to a conventional classical-romantic form, it manages to pack in a lot of Czech folk music in its four movements. Dvorak composed the work for the Vienna Philharmonic and dedicated it to conductor Hans Richter. Maestro Bernard sets the tone for the rest of the program by engaging the music robustly and reveling in the folklike atmosphere of the tunes. He also keeps tempos on the speedy side, with contrasts and pauses emphasized for dramatic effect. The orchestra responds to Bernard’s direction with precision and gusto. In the end, the presentation may force some listeners to come away with a better appreciation for the work.

Next is the Symphony No. 7 in D Minor, Op. 70, which Dvorak completed in 1885 and in which the composer begins to hit his stride. The symphony’s style is generally more emotional, theatrical, assertive, and to some extent dispiriting than the mood of Dvorak’s earlier folk-inspired music. In the piece, Dvorak pursued his most ambitious score to date, striving to accommodate his own personal grief and a desire to endorse a budding Czech nationalism. As before, Maestro Bernard handles it with an easy yet energetic commitment, the music dancing in lithe, flowing rhythms throughout while projecting a strong case for the symphony’s poignancy and pathos.

By the time of Dvorak’s Symphony No. 8 in G Major, Op. 88 in 1889, the world was beginning to consider the composer in a league with Schumann and Brahms. Even though the symphony begins in a somewhat downbeat spirit, it soon finds its bearings and emerges among the most-cheerful and poetic of Dvorak's works, the style and structure very much in the Czech Romantic tradition and the inspiration coming largely from the Bohemian folk tunes of the composer's native country. Again, Maestro Bernard and his forces attack the piece with an ebullient verve. The music perhaps loses some weight compared to other renditions but makes up for it in fervent commitment, the whole retaining an evocative elegance. Then, too, the performance may lack the ultimate finesse of some of my favorite conductors in this piece like Barbirolli, Pesek, Davis, Kertesz, or Kubelik, but it’s close. And what the interpretation lacks in subtlety, it more than makes up for in boldness, vitality, and incisiveness.

Finally, we have Dvorak’s crowning achievement, the Symphony No. 9 in E Minor, Op. 95, subtitled “From the New World,” which he wrote in 1893. Many listeners over the years have heard instances of American accents in the music, when in fact Dvorak said most of it was entirely original. The "New World" business only came about because Dvorak happened to be living in New York at the time he wrote it. While to some small degree local American tunes may have inspired the composer, the music is clearly Czech in flavor.

Maestro Bernard takes his time with the symphony’s first movement, calculating each note, each phrase, each pause, and each dynamic contrast for maximum effect. The first movement in particular comes through with dramatic clarity and impact, a shining example of what can be done with a little creativity and determination. The second movement Largo suffers only minor cost from this approach, losing a little something in overall wistfulness. Then, too, the movement might have benefited from a richer string section. I dunno. The Scherzo zips along splendidly, the rhythms pulsating with energy. Dvorak marked the final movement Allegro con fuoco (“Quick, lively, and fiery”), a direction the conductor carries out with diligence. It caps another invigorating reading from Bernard.

Recording engineers Joel Watts, Asaf Blasberg, and Gunnar Gillberg recorded the symphonies at the DiMenna Center for the Performing Arts, New York City in May 2019. As with previous Recursive Classics recordings I’ve heard, this one is exceptionally smooth. It’s perhaps a tad too softly focused for some audiophile tastes, but it’s certainly easy on the ears while still providing detail, space, air, ambience, and dynamics. On a final note, I should add that the volume output appears slightly lower than one finds with most other recordings; therefore; you may have to turn it up a bit for best results.

JJP

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

Juilliard String Quartet: Beethoven, Bartok, Dvorak (CD review)

Juilliard String Quartet. Sony 19439858752.

By John J. Puccio

The Juilliard String Quartet needs no introduction. They
are an American institution. But for the few unenlightened, here is a brief
description. The already knowledgeable may safely move on to the next
paragraph. The Juilliard School’s president at the time of the quartet’s founding,
William Schuman, suggested the creation of the Juilliard String Quartet in
1946, where it has been the quartet-in-residence ever since. From then until
now, it has received numerous awards, including four Grammys; it has recorded
countless albums; and it has known seventeen different members. Its present
configuration consists of Areta Zhulla, violin; Ronald Copes, violin; Roger
Tapping, viola; and Astrid Schween, cello. Yet despite the years and despite
the changes in personnel, the quartet has remained remarkably the same in tone,
temper, precision, and style.

On the present album, the quartet celebrates its
seventy-fifth anniversary with three cornerstone works of the quartet
repertory: Beethoven’s String Quartet in e minor, Op. 59, No 2;
Bartok’s String Quartet No. 3, SZ.85; and Dvorak’s String Quartet in
F Major, Op. 96, “American.”

The program opens with Beethoven (1770-1827), who
published the String Quartet in e minor, Op. 59, No 2 in 1808,
one of his middle-period quartets. It’s also the eighth quartet he wrote, so
sometimes people just refer to it as No. 8. To further complicate its
naming, the quartet’s benefactor was a Count Rasumovsky, who provided one of
the tunes. So the quartet is also known as “Rasumovsky.” By whatever name, it’s
lovely.

So is the playing of the Juilliard team. Their care and
accuracy are things of beauty. Their inflection, their tone, their graduated
stresses are letter perfect. Their nuance is above reproach. One can easily
hear from the opening movement of the Beethoven that we are in the company of
greatness, both from the composer and from the Juilliard Quartet. They
understand the nature of the music, the succinctness of Beethoven’s writing,
the appropriate points of emphasis, and the length of sustained silences. Yes,
lovely, and ending in befittingly high spirits.

Next is Hungarian composer and pianist Bela Bartok
(1881-1945), who wrote his String Quartet No. 3 in 1927, one of six he
composed in the genre. Bartok intended the piece to be performed in one
uninterrupted span, but in the score he indicated four distinct sections. The
piece begins rather somberly but livens up by the second part (Seconda
parte: Allegro). As always, the Juilliard foursome handle it with
authority, capturing the forward and rhythmic pulses of the work with clarity
and assurance.

The program concludes with Czech composer Antonin Dvorak
(1841-1904), who wrote his String Quartet in F Major, Op. 96, “American”
while he was living in the United States, and thus the familiar name for the
work. He wrote it just after he wrote his “New World” Symphony, and it, too,
proved a success. Dvorak said of it, “When I wrote this quartet in the Czech
community of Spillville in 1893, I wanted to write something for once that was
very melodious and straightforward, and dear Papa Haydn kept appearing before
my eyes, and that is why it all turned out so simply. And it’s good that it
did." As with the Ninth Symphony, Dvorak credited Negro spirituals
and Native American folk music as influences on his quartet, although he quoted
nothing directly from them in the score.

If you like Dvorak’s Ninth Symphony and somehow
have never heard the Quartet in F minor, you’ll find in it a surprising
similarity in structure and melody to the bigger work, a resemblance the Juilliard
players are keen to exploit. The music dances smoothly between restfully
introspective passages and carefree, pulsating segments, the Juilliard players
appearing to enjoy the contrasts and cadences as much as the listener.

Producer and engineer Steven Epstein recorded the music at
the Recital Hall of the Performing Arts Center, Purchase College State
University of New York in May 2019. I’m not sure I have heard a string quartet
captured any better. Although they are slightly close, they are exceptionally
well balanced, with excellent transparency, dynamics, and realism. There is no
hint of hardness, brightness, or forwardness in the sound, just a totally
natural presentation.

JJP

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

Dvorak: Violin Concerto (CD review)

Also, Khachaturian: Violin Concerto. Rachel Barton Pine, violin; Teddy Abrams, Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Avie AV2411.



It's always a pleasure to welcome a new recording by American virtuoso violinist Rachel Barton Pine (b. 1974). She began her concert career at the age of ten with Erich Leinsdorf and the Chicago Symphony in the mid 1980's and her recording career with the Dorian and Cedille labels in the mid 1990's. It was here with Cedille that I first encountered her and, I'm proud to say, first began reviewing her recordings. She continued making records mostly with Cedille up until just a few years ago when she began working with Avie Records. While today she appears to be recording with both Cedille and Avie, whatever the record company she has continued to produce well poised and sweetly polished performances, with some of the best sound afforded a violinist. The present Avie disc is a case in point.



Here, Ms. Barton Pine tackles two giant works of the violin concerto genre, those by Dvorak and Khachaturian, starting the album with the Dvorak. Even though Dvorak's Violin Concerto took its place in the basic classical repertoire long ago, it has never seemed to quite catch on with the public the way those from Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Paganini, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and others have caught on. The Dvorak maybe hasn't quite the soaring lines, memorable melodies, and grand Romantic gestures we find in other popular concertos. Still, it offers its fair share of pleasures, which Ms. Barton Pine is eager to share with us.



So, Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote his Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in A minor, Op. 53 in 1879, premiering it in 1883. The famous Hungarian violinist, conductor, composer, and teacher Joseph Joachim inspired Dvorak to write the piece, and the composer intended for Joachim to play it. However, as it turned out, Joachim didn't much care for the finished work and never did perform it. Despite the violinist's skepticism, though, Dvorak released the piece, and the rest is history, as they say. Still, I have some lingering doubts myself. Maybe Joachim had something, the music never impressing me as much as it has impressed some others, even in the capable hands of Ms. Barton Pine.

Rachel Barton Pine

Whatever, Dvorak begins the concerto with an Allegro ma non troppo (fast, but not too much), the "ma non troppo" marking used in all three movements. The violin enters almost immediately. Joachim may have felt that the orchestra dominated the score, but Dvorak made some revisions before premiering it. Here, with Ms. Barton Pine, there is no question the violin dominates. She asserts her authority on the music from the outset, clearly establishing who is in charge. She handles the primary melody with both power and grace, making it strong yet lyrical and flowing. It's quite rhapsodic and quite lovely.

The slow central section, the Adagio ma non troppo, is the emotional heart of the work. Again, Dvorak's marking indicates he didn't want the soloist or orchestra to take things too slowly, possibly not to make the music too sentimental. The movement became so popular that concert violinists often perform it as a stand-alone item. Be that as it may, in the hands of Ms. Barton Pine it sounds all of a piece with the rest of the concerto, an integral part rather than an artificial add-on. She maintains a good, forward pace (again, not too slow was Dvorak's advice), and invests the music with much inner feeling and joy. And I should add that Maestro Abrams's accompaniment is flawless, and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra sounds appropriately rich, lush, and accomplished.



In the Finale Dvorak returns to the radiant, dance-like tunes and Czech folk melodies of the opening movement. Ms. Barton Pine's interpretation is a delight, and along with Perlman (EMI) and Mutter (DG) must now count as one of the best recorded performances of the work available.



Coupled with the Dvorak we find the Violin Concerto of Soviet-Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian (1903-1978). He wrote it in 1940, and Soviet violinist David Oistrakh premiered it the same year. Apparently, Khachaturian found much influence for the work from the folk music of his native Armenia. It is a surprisingly old-fashioned piece of music for the mid twentieth century, with much rhythm, vitality, and melody, which may explain why it won the Stalin Prize in 1941 from a notoriously conservative body of Soviet judges who at the time were pretty much down on anything sounding even vaguely modern.



Ms. Barton Pine plays the Khachaturian with abandon. It appears she has had plenty of practice in doing so as she says she had an immediate connection with the work, and for a while it was her "go-to concerto for competitions." She brings out all the folk-inspired qualities of the music and invests it with a profusion of color.



Producer Andrew Keener and engineer Simon Eadon recorded the concertos at RSNO Centre, Glasgow, Scotland in August 2018. The sound is quite good, with the soloist well centered and not too far out in front of the orchestra. Meanwhile, the orchestral detailing is also good, perhaps a tad bright and forward but nothing too objectionable. The dynamic range is wide, and transient impact is more than adequate. What's more, any minor edge in the upper frequencies is more than mitigated by the warmth of the lower midrange and upper bass. I don't think most people will be disappointed in Avie's sound.



JJP



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

RCA Living Stereo (CD reviews)

Dvorak: Symphony No. 9 "From the New World," and other orchestral masterworks. Fritz Reiner, Chicago Symphony Orchestra.  RCA Living Stereo 09026-62587-2.

Hovhaness: Mysterious Mountain; Prokofiev: Lt. Kije; Stravinsky: The Fairy's Kiss. Reiner, CSO. RCA Living Stereo 09026-61957-2.

Respighi: Pines and Fountains of Rome; Debussy: La Mer.  Reiner, CSO. RCA Living Stereo 09026-68079-2. 



By now, the names Fritz Reiner and "Living Stereo" should be synonymous with highest recommendation. It's a no-brainer, a win-win situation. Between the years 1954 and 1962 Reiner made a remarkable number of stereo recordings for RCA. They were remarkable for two reasons:  first, because almost all of them were immediately recognized as superb performances and have remained on practically everyone's list of recommended recordings for the last forty years; second, because they were recorded in the pioneering days of stereo before sound engineers had learned much about screwing things up.



Back then, a lot of recording engineers appeared to be interested in minimal miking, a wide stereo spread, good front-to-back dimensional information, as well as wide dynamic and frequency ranges and reasonably unaffected tonal balance. Things like stereo multi-miking, spotlighting, highlighting, partitioning, reverb, compression, dynamic and frequency limiting, and artificial brightness were just starting to come into their own. For the most part, the conductor was still in charge of the sound of his orchestra. Lovingly remastered by RCA, the "Living Stereo" CD series, which RCA introduced in the mid 1990's, especially the ones with Reiner, show us just how good those simple, early techniques were, techniques later adopted by many prominent audiophile labels in their own recordings.



Anyway, of the three early discs in RCA's "Living Stereo" CD line, Reiner's Dvorak is the only recording I had not heard in many years. This Dvorak Ninth Symphony from 1957 still does not displace my favored Kertesz (Decca) or Horenstein (Unicorn) recordings, but it packs much mature drama and conviction into a powerful and enjoyable performance.

Fritz Reiner

The Reiner recording of Hovhaness's Mysterious Mountain, also from 1957, has been a classic for four decades and helped put Hovhaness on the musical map. It may not hold up as well sonically as, say, Gerard Schwarz's Seattle Symphony disc on Delos, but it is clearly among the most profoundly spiritual readings imaginable. Its coupling with Stravinsky's Fairy's Kiss and a delightful rendition of Prokofiev's Lt. Kije makes this an attractive package. Each of these recordings had appeared previously on CD from RCA. Perhaps in the "Living Stereo" series they lose a little something in overall brilliance, but they have never sounded quieter, smoother, or more natural.



The third disc I'll mention is an absolute must-buy. I think I have owned Reiner's Respighi tone poems, the Pines of Rome and Fountains of Rome, in one form or another for as long they have been around (RCA recorded them in 1959, and I bought the LP in the early 60's). Yes, the newer Muti and Dutoit recordings sound a little better in some ways, but no one has yet captured the color and splash of these works as well as Reiner. Coupled with yet another classic among classics, Debussy's La Mer, itself a perennial top-of-the-pile choice, this disc gets my highest  recommendation.



The reader newly acquainted with classical music could do worse than to purchase anything in the Reiner series; the reader newly acquainted with audiophile sound could do worse with many, if not most, modern recordings.



Incidentally, since issuing their "Living Stereo" series on CD, RCA has also issued many of the recordings on SACD, and JVC has remastered many of them in XRCD24. Choices, choices....



JJP



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

Motherland: David Aaron Carpenter (CD review)

Music of Dvorak, Bartok, Shor, and Walton. David Aaron Carpenter, viola; Vladimir Jurowski, Kazushi Ono, David Parry, London Philharmonic Orchestra. Warner Classics 0190295697693 (2-disc set).



David Aaron Carpenter is a relatively young (b. 1986) American violist who has been making a name for himself as a concert soloist these last few years. He began studying the violin when he was six and the viola when he was eleven, attending the Juilliard School, the Manhattan School of Music, Italy's Accademia Chigiana, Switzerland's International Music Academy, and the Verbier Festival Academy, studying with Pinchas Zukerman, Roberto Diaz, Seiji Ozawa, Robert Mann, Nobuko Imai, Boris Belkin, and Yuri Bashmet. By 2003 he was performing with leading orchestras and conductors throughout the world, and in 2006 he was the first Prize Winner of the Walter W. Naumburg Viola Competition.



"Motherland" is Carpenter's sixth major album and his second for Warner Classics. It's a combination of the old and the new, the familiar and the more unfamiliar. The first disc of this two-disc set begins with the old, Dvorak's Cello Concerto, although even that is somewhat new in that Carpenter plays it in an arrangement for viola. Next is Bartok's Concerto for Viola, followed by something a bit newer, Alexey Shor's Seascapes. Disc two gives us Walton's Concerto for Viola, followed by two more works by Shor. The pieces provide a healthy, varied, and attractive program.



Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote his Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 late in life, between 1894-95, his last concerto work. Yet even that is slightly different since Carpenter performs it as arranged for viola by J. Vieland and Carpenter, with accompaniment by Maestro Kazushi Ono and the London Philharmonic. Aside from the novelty of hearing the cello part played by a viola (which takes a moment or two to get used to because you don't get as sonorous or mellow a sound), the performance appears good but not extraordinary. It's well prepared and well executed, but I found it a trifle routine. And in the slow movement the viola doesn't quite convey the kind of melancholy a cello can impart. Still, the combination of Carpenter's enthusiasm, the viola's vibrant, youthful tone, and the excellence of the orchestra make it worth one's time.

David Aaron Carpenter

Next, we get the Concerto for Viola and Orchestra, Sz.120 by Hungarian composer Bela Bartok (1881-1945). Like the Dvorak, the Bartok piece was among the last things the composer wrote. But even this piece is slightly different because Bartok never actually finished it himself, the completion done by Bartok's student, Tibor Serly, in 1949, several years after the composer's death. Maestro Vladimir Jurowski and the London Philharmonic accompany Carpenter in the music, which comes off nicely. Carpenter seems in his element here, especially in the instrumental virtuosity he's able to pull off so effortlessly. (That finale with its energetic Hungarian themes is a gymnastic tour de force, with Jurowski and his players keeping up well.)



Disc one ends with a short piece in four parts called Seascapes by Ukrainian-born composer Alexey Shor (b. 1970), who now resides in the U.S. Here, Maestro David Parry and the London Philharmonic accompany Carpenter. Although it may be a modern work, it doesn't sound like one. It's filled with dancing melodies and lively, mostly cheerful tunes. Carpenter's treatment of it makes for a delightful listen.



Disc two contains only three works, one by English composer Sir William Walton (1902-1983) and two more by Alexey Shor. The Walton piece is his Concerto for Viola and Orchestra, written in 1929. The Shor pieces are the brief Two Songs for My Children and the lengthy Well Tempered Chanson. Jurowski leads the London Phil accompanying the Walton piece, and Parry again conducts the orchestra in the Shor works. As on disc one, Carpenter displays a command of the music as well as of the viola. The musical lines are always clear and clean, as well as the performer's conviction.



Overall, I'm not sure Carpenter shows us anything new, but it's good to know there are accomplished musicians ready to assume the mantle of an older generation.



Producer Andrew Walton and engineer Deborah Spanton recorded the music at Saint Augustine's, Kilburn and Lyndhurst Hall, Air Studios, London, England in 2017. As with many of the recordings made in Lyndhurst Hall, especially, the sense of orchestral depth is quite good, adding to the overall realism of the sound. There are also good dynamics and a moderately wide frequency response. Transparency is more than adequate, and the extremes of bass and treble seem reasonably well extended. In other words, we have fairly lifelike sound, making the set a pleasure to listen to.



JJP



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

Dvorak: Cello Concerto (XRCD review)

Also, Silent Woods. Jacqueline du Pre, cello; Daniel Barenboim, Chicago Symphony Orchestra. ARC ARCXRCD806.



When Jacqueline du Pre (1945-1987) made this recording in 1970 with her husband Daniel Barenboim and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, she was already one of the most-famous and most-accomplished cellists in the world. However, although Ms. du Pre's Dvorak performance is good, it probably isn't one of her signature recordings. Still, if you like the sound, which admittedly takes a little getting used to, the new remastering does more with it than ever before.



British cellist Jacqueline du Pre (1945-1987) began studying the cello at age five, winning the first of many awards at age eleven, followed by television and concert appearances. (Her formal debut was at Wigmore Hall, London in March 1961, when she was sixteen.) Then came the recording career, and the rest, as they say, is history. She met and married pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim in the mid Sixties, and they appeared destined for mutual stardom, an ideal musical couple. The present recording is one of the fruits of that partnership. Unfortunately, her last public appearance would be in 1973 due to multiple sclerosis, her promising career ending shortly thereafter.



Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote his Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 rather late in life (1895), the work since becoming one of the most-popular cello concertos of all time. It's popularity has been so enduring that practically every major cellist in the world has recorded it, with the likes of Mstislav Rostropovich (DG), Yo-Yo Ma (Sony), Pierre Fournier (DG), Leonard Rose (Sony), Gregor Piatigorsky (RCA), Lynn Harrell (RCA), Pablo Casals (EMI and Dutton Labs), Paul Tortelier (EMI/Warner), Rafael Wallfisch (Chandos), Truls Mork (EMI/Warner), Maurice Gendron (Philips or HDTT), and Janos Starker (Mercury) heading up a lengthy list. Ms. du Pre's version, then, finds itself in heady company.



Because the concerto contains an abundance of attractive melodies, it gives the soloist and orchestra ample opportunity for displaying bravura, nuance, sensitivity, and a little sentimentality, all of which Ms. du Pre handles well, with her characteristic flair. Barenboim and the orchestra contribute to their parts with an equal zeal and enthusiasm.

The concerto begins with a long, imposing orchestral introduction before the cello enters, an intro that alludes to both of the work's two upcoming themes. Ms. du Pre plays it with the kind of spontaneous-appearing gusto we expect, yet it is not so brawny an interpretation as those of Gendron or Starker. It's a gentler kind of spirit that nonetheless captures the grand, robust vigor of Dvorak.

Jacqueline du Pre

After the strong start comes a slow, second-movement Adagio, which Dvorak wrote while his much-beloved sister-in-law lay dying, and he used one of her favorite pieces of music as a central theme. In it, he creates a lovely, explosively gentle, faintly melancholic mood, which should glide sweetly along like a slow-moving stream, wistfully, with a touch of sadness. Here, Ms. du Pre stands out from the crowd with a most-sensitive, sincere, evocative rendering.



In the Finale, we find more heroics and more pensiveness from both the soloist and the orchestra than we heard previously from them. Dvorak apparently wanted the soloist and orchestra to work on equal terms, and certainly du Pre, Barenboim, and the orchestra each contribute their fair share to the whole, producing a fittingly zesty yet reflective conclusion to the proceedings.



Accompanying the concerto is Dvorak's Silent Woods (1883), originally written for piano and later transcribed for cello and piano and then cello and orchestra. It's a beautifully sweet, lyrical piece, which I enjoyed immensely. Perhaps this is because the music so aptly suits the instrument, or perhaps it's because Ms. du Pre so appropriately expresses the meditative mood of the piece.



Producer Peter Andry and engineer Carson Taylor made the recording for EMI at the Medinah Temple, Chicago, Illinois in November 1970. Tohru Kotetsu remastered the recording for ARC at the JVC mastering Center, Japan, using the latest XRCD24/K2 processing for maximum fidelity CD playback.



A hallmark of the recording is its clarity. The orchestral sound is well detailed, but at the expense of some upper midrange hardness and brightness and some small lack of upper-bass warmth. (To be fair, this is a sound from the Chicago Symphony I've heard in other recordings, so it may be a condition of the orchestra and hall and not the recording.) Nevertheless, the new remastering sounds good and better than I have heard it. Then after that long introduction I mentioned earlier, the cello enters, and it's practically on top of us. The instrument sounds good, mind you--warm, mellow, and rich--just unnecessarily close and nothing like what one might hear in any real concert. What's more, the cello's entrance points up the wide dynamic range of the recording because it's quite a bit louder than the preceding orchestral preface.



Frankly, because I have never thought of the sound of this recording as audiophile material, I have to wonder why ARC/JVC chose to remaster it so meticulously. That said, for listeners who already enjoy the performance and want to hear it reproduced from the best possible source, the disc may be worth its asking price.



You can find ARC products at some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/



JJP



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

Dvorak: Symphony No. 9 (CD review)

Also, Smetana: The Bartered Bride Overture. Istvan Kertesz, Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra; Fritz Reiner, Chicago Symphony Orchestra. HDTT remastered.



Jewish-Hungarian conductor Istvan Kertesz (1929-1973) died tragically young, drowned while swimming off the coast of Israel. But before his death, he recorded Dvorak's Ninth Symphony twice in stereo. The first time was the Decca recording we have here, made with the Vienna Philharmonic in 1961. The second time was just a few years later, in 1966, again with Decca but with the London Symphony. Why did he re-record it? Possibly because he was recording all nine of Dvorak's symphonies with the LSO and wanted continuity within the set. Possibly because he felt he had more to say on the subject. And possibly because he wanted to restore the first-movement repeat that he had omitted in the earlier recording.



Who knows? Whatever the case, Kertesz fans have been arguing ever since about which version they like best, the first, more youthful, more impetuous one under review or the second, more mature, more complete one. Moreover, there remains some disagreement among audiophiles about which recording sounds best from a purely sonic viewpoint: the earlier, more dynamic one or the later, more refined one.



The first time I heard Kertesz's Vienna rendering was in the late Sixties or early Seventies when an acquaintance bought a pair of Infinity Servo-Static I's, electrostatic/cone hybrids considered at the time to be one of the finest speaker systems in the world. The first thing the acquaintance put on the turntable was an LP of this recording by Kertesz and the VPO. I was stunned by the sound--the sonics of both the high-end playback system and the record.



Of course, I had to buy the album. (I would loved to have bought the Infinity speakers, too, but the price was astronomical). In any case, the album did not disappoint me, and even though I could only afford a pair of AR-3a's back then, the speakers brought out most everything good about the Kertesz/VPO sound. Then came the digital age in the early Eighties, and I moved on to the compact disc of the recording, which sorely disappointed me. It seemed edgier and to have lost much of its impact.



Which brings me to this High Definition Tape Transfers remastered version of the recording, made by HDTT in 2017. I'm happy to say that because HDTT transferred it from a Decca tape and did so with care, it sounds much as I remembered the old LP. Meaning it doesn't get any better, and it just might return to a lot of audiophile systems as a demonstration piece.



Anyway, let's start with a word about Kertesz's interpretation of the symphony. Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote the work in 1893 while serving as director of the New York Conservatory. Many listeners over the years have heard instances of American idioms in the music, especially African-American spirituals and Native-American influences, but Dvorak said most of the music was original, probably inspired more by his native Bohemia than anything "American." The symphony's title, "From the New World," only came about because Dvorak happened to be living in New York at the time he wrote it. While to some degree local tunes may have influenced the composer, the music seems mostly Czech in flavor. At the very least, as Leonard Bernstein once remarked, one might consider it multinational.



In the first movement, Kertesz is both fervent and affectionate. While some listeners may miss the repeat, the abbreviated time here seems more suited to the conductor's urgent manner. Moreover, Kertesz is never reluctant to convey the work's Gypsy fire, and he closes the first movement in a thrilling blaze of passion.



The slow, quiet, second-movement Largo, with its famous cor anglais melody, sounds as sweetly fluid as any you'll find. Then Kertesz gives us an energetic reading of the Scherzo and ends the piece with a roaring good finale, full of excitement and good cheer. Maybe his LSO performance shows us a more unified, better constructed piece of music, but this earlier realization is undoubtedly the more enrapturing one.



For a coupling, the folks at HDTT provide another Czech work, The Bartered Bride Overture by Bedrich Smetana (1824–1884). This time, however, the conductor is Fritz Reiner, the orchestra is the Chicago Symphony, and the remaster is from an RCA "Living Stereo" recording. Reiner was also a fine interpreter of Czech and Hungarian music, and he provides a properly rustic and rousing rendition of the score.



Producer Ray Minshull and engineer James Brown recorded the Dvorak at the Sofiensaal, Vienna in 1961, and producer Richard Mohr and engineer Robert Layton recorded the Smetana in Chicago, 1955. HDTT transferred both works from 15-ips tapes to DSD (Direct Stream Digital) 256.



The remastering restores the sound of the Dvorak, as I said, to much as I remembered it from the old LP days. It's very dynamic, with a solid impact, helped all the more by its excellent definition. Some listeners might object to the timpani being rather closely miked, but it helps to bring out all the fire and warmth of the work. The stereo spread is broad, and the resonance is just enough to impart a realistic feeling for the hall. In the Smetana overture, the sound is even broader across the speakers and perhaps a trifle thinner and brighter as well.



Even after all these years, the Dvorak recording remains a standout audiophile choice, and both the sound and the performance must command a place among the top recommendations for this work.



For further information on HDTT products, prices, discs, and downloads in a variety of formats, you can visit their Web site at http://www.highdeftapetransfers.com/.



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click on the forward arrow: