Showing posts with label Hovhaness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hovhaness. Show all posts

January 19, 2022

Piano Potpourri, No. 5 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Illumination: Piano Works of Victoria Bond. Illuminations on Byzantine Chant; Ancient Keys*; Black Light**; Byzantine Chant. Paul Barnes, pianist and chanter; Kirk Trevor, *Slovak Radio Orchestra; Philharmony “Bohuslav Martinu”. Albany Records TROY1880.

Once again we encounter a composer – and performer – whom we have not encountered before, and we are once again rewarded with some music that is interesting, entertaining, and uplifting. The American composer and conductor Victoria Bond (b. 1945) was the first woman to be awarded a doctorate in conducting from the Juilliard School and has composed eight operas, six ballets, two piano concertos, as well as other works. In her liner notes, Bond explains that the works included on this release stem from more than two decades of collaboration with the American pianist Paul Barnes (b. 1961). This temporal span is exemplified not only by the recording dates of the compositions (Ancient Keys, 1997; Black Light, 2003; Illuminations on Byzantine Chant, 2021) but also by dates of the composition that opens the program, Illuminations on Byzantine Chant, a work for solo piano in three parts: Potirion Sotiriu, 1999; Simeron Kremate, 2019; and Enite ton Kyrion, 2021.

The first two movements of Illuminations, Potirion Sotiriu and Simeron Kremate, are energetic and intense, with an Eastern flavor that is consistent with their roots in the Greek Orthodox tradition. The third movement, Enite ton Kyrion, is more meditative in mood, more peaceful and lyrical. Ancient Keys, a piano concerto in one movement, begins with a chant from pianist Barnes before the orchestra enters, followed by his piano. According to Bond, Ancient Keys is based on Potirion Sotiriu. “In expanding the solo piano work for piano and orchestra, I pictured an enormous space, like a great cathedral, gradually filling up with rich and sonorous bass [sic] tones that swirled around, echoing and disappearing like delicate smoke into the high dome.” (Given the way the piece opens, I’m pretty sure she meant “brass tones.”) Over its 17 minutes, this is a piece that provides drama and a sense of mystery. Impressive! Black Light is in three movements. Interestingly enough, Bond writes that “the title Black Light implies the light that shines from African American music, which has had a profound effect on my compositions.” The first movement is almost jarringly energetic – it is marked “Aggressively driving” and is certainly that. Not unpleasant, mind you, but something that will definitely wake you up. The second movement, marked “Forcefully,” is much less aggressive, and is said by the composer to be inspired by Jewish liturgical music. The final movement, marked “Presto,” said to be inspired by the scat singing of Ella Fitzgerald, is quite a fun romp. The program then ends in a completely different vein as Barnes performs four brief Byzantine chants, including the three that undergird the beginning of the program: Potirion Sotiriu, Simeron Kremate, and Enite ton Kyrion. All in all, then, what we have here is something of an unusual musical program, but nonetheless a recording that is coherent, stimulating, and satisfying, with more than satisfactory engineering and informative liner notes. Well worth an audition by the musically curious.

Schubert: Piano Sonatas D. 840, ‘Reliquie’ & D. 960. Jean-Marc Luisada, piano, La Dolce Volta LDV 93. 

The Tunisian-born French pianist Jean Marc Luisada (b. 1958) offers performances of two piano sonatas by Schubert on this beautifully engineered recording that comes in a hardbound book-type bound format featuring liner notes in four languages: French, English, Japanese, and German. This is surely one one of the most imposing and impressive presentations that I have encountered in quite some time. The question that remains, then, is whether the musical performance is worthy of the engineering and packaging quality lavished upon it. To these ears, at least, the answer is affirmative.

Luisada plays only the first two movements of the Sonata in C major, D. 840, known as the “Relique” a name it was given because when it was first published it was mistakenly thought to be Schubert’s final work in piano sonata form. These first two movements, marked Moderato and Andante, being the only two that Schubert completed himself. By the way, although there are only two movements, they are substantial, taking up more than 28 minutes. There exists a longer version that includes later movements that were completed by Ernst Krenek. In Luisada’s view, “In Schubert’s case, incompletion is not a sign of impotence. It’s a deliberate gesture, because he has already said the essential, revealed the suffering of the moment.” As we listen to Luisada’s tenderly expressive performance and ponder his perspective on this work, we find ourselves confronting one of music’s – of art’s – paradoxes, how the expression of sorrow and suffering can at the same time be so beautiful and life-affirming.

Then it is on to the Sonata in B-flat major, D. 960, which truly was Schubert’s final piano sonata, of which Luisada comments “is a culmination, the completion of a life… Certain passages in the first movement of the sonata are among the highpoints of the whole nineteenth-century musical literature. Then there are the moments bathed in an immaterial atmosphere, when the Wanderer calmly accepts death in the C major modulation at the end of the second movement, the Andante sostenuto. This imposes a feeling of stillness, a sensation of eternity… In this recording, I play [the Scherzo] slower than usual and in the spirit of an angel dance with a certain reserve… In truth, nothing is improvised in Schubert. Sometimes he gives the illusion of improvisation, pulls the wool over our eyes. Everything is ‘orchestrated’ without ever reaching a climax, for he must constantly postpone the inevitable, gain time. Only the Faustian finale with its galloping theme and its syncopations in the left hand ends the Wanderer’s race to the abyss.”  

For those who might be unfamiliar with this composition, it is an imposing work, but one that is ever so beautiful. The first movement is the longest; at 20 minutes or so, it could pretty much stand on its own as an independently satisfying work of art. (I must confess that there have been times when I have come to the end of the movement and then rather than going on to the next, have immediately returned to the beginning of the movement again, lingering with this music for another 20 minutes, because it is just so beautiful that I cannot bear to part from it.) But then comes the second movement, that Andante sostenuto, slow and tender for nearly 10 minutes, music to melt your heart, with Luisada playing it as expressively as can be imagined without ever taking it over the top. The relatively brief Scherzo follows, dancing along for less than five minutes before we come to the closing nine-minute Allegro, which bounces along until it seems to hesitate questioningly near the end before seeming to take a deep breath and conclude with a flourish. Overall, Luisada plays with great imagination and emotion, bringing out the drama in the music. D. 960 truly is one of the truly great piano sonatas, a work that every classical music listener should encounter at some point. A great place to start for those who have not yet heard the piece would be the recording by Mitsuko Uchida on Philips, a more straightforward but still quite beautiful performance; however, for those who are already acquainted with the piece, this new recording by Luisada offers a fascinating interpretation that is well worth an audition, and the pairing of both sonatas on one disc and the superb recorded sound make this an especially appealing choice.  

Hovhaness: Invocations to Vahakn; Yenovk; Lalezar; Suite on Greek Tunes; Mystic Flute; Journey Into Dawn; Laona; Lake of Van Sonata; Vijag; Sonata “Hakhpat”. Sahan Arzruni, piano; Adam Rosenblatt, percussion. KALAN 773. 

Many classical music fans are no doubt familiar with the orchestral works of the late American composer Alan Hovhaness (1911-2000), who wrote 67 symphonies as well as other symphonic works such as the symphonic poem And God Created Great Whales. With something like 464 works in his published catalog plus additional unpublished manuscripts, Hovhaness wrote not only for orchestra, but for other ensembles and solo instruments as well, including the piano. The Armenian pianist Sahan Arzruni (b. 1943) has studied the piano music of Hovhaness in preparation for recording this album of selected piano works by the composer. Clearly this was a work of love, for Arzruni points out that the majority of the compositions he chose to include are unpublished, existing in manuscript form only. Arzruni comments that Hovhaness “was a musician-mystic who rejected the materialistic values of the Machine Age. He explored, instead, the transcendental realm – using music as a link between the physical and metaphysical worlds. Hovhaness took non-Western cultures as his point of departure, while employing Western music as his frame of reference.” Arzruni goes on to quote the American composer and critic Virgil Thomson who wrote of Hovhaness in 1947 that “the music is at times strophic in phraseology and emotionally continuous, never climactic. Each piece is like a hand-made wallpaper. Its motionless quality is a little hypnotic. Its expressive function is predominantly religious, ceremonial, incantatory, its spiritual content of the purest.”

Even before reading the extensive liner notes in which Arzruni provides detailed background information on each track, you begin to get a sense of what Thomson was writing about even before you read it. The music does have a sense of the mystical about it, a feeling of striving for something beyond the notes. The occasional addition of percussion adds to the sense that the music is part of some sort of ritual. That is not to say, however, that it cannot be enjoyed purely as music, for it is music that is lively, energetic, and quite capable of capturing the imagination. On the back cover of the booklet is a quotation from Hovhaness himself that makes his intentions clear: “I propose to create a heroic, monumental style of composition simple enough to inspire all people, completely free from fads, artificial mannerisms and false sophistications, direct, sincere, always original but never unnatural.” That is a bold, ambitious statement, but for the music on this album at least, I would say that he pretty much succeeded, with the able assistance of Arzruni, Rosenblatt, and the engineering team. The booklet and disc are packaged in a sturdy box; all in all, this is a first-class production of some fascinating music that deserves to be heard. Highly recommended!

KWN

November 6, 2019

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:

September 3, 2014

Hovhaness: Mysterious Mountains (CD review)

Also, Mysterious Mountain, Hymn to Glacier Peak, Mt. St. Helens, Storm on Mount Wildcat. Gerard Schwarz, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. Telarc CD-80604.



Alan Hovhaness (1911-2000) was one of the last of the Romantics, a composer who still believed that music should be enjoyed for its melodies, its harmonies, its sheer beauty of expression rather than any radical experimentation. Apparently, the public appreciated his work, too, because he became one of the late twentieth century's most popular living classical composers.



This Telarc disc from 2003 offers a program of four works on one of Hovhaness's favorite subjects: mountains. As Hovhaness said, "Mountains are symbols, like pyramids of man's attempt to know God. Mountains are symbolic meeting places between the mundane and spiritual world."



The selections begin with his most-celebrated and most-recorded work, the Symphony No. 2, "Mysterious Mountain." Even though Hovhaness had been composing professionally for twenty-odd years before Leopold Stokowski premiered the Second Symphony in 1955, "Mysterious Mountain" made the composer famous, and it remains today probably his most well-known piece of music. The composer's own comment about his music in general applies equally to "Mysterious Mountain":  "My purpose is to create music, not for snobs, but for all people--music which is beautiful and healing--to attempt what old Chinese painters called 'spirit resonance in melody and sound.'"



Maestro Gerard Schwarz recorded "Mysterious Mountain" once before, with the Seattle Symphony for Delos, and this time on Telarc with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic he's a bit slower going about his business, a tad more reverentially cautious. There isn't quite the same dash or thrill in the work, not quite the same majesty we heard earlier. Yet he has replaced it with a tranquility that may suit the piece even better. Perhaps it's age creeping up on Schwarz or just a reconsideration of the work, but in any case the reading makes a good companion performance if you already own the Delos disc because the interpretations are different enough to enjoy both. The same goes if you own the classic RCA Living Stereo edition with Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony, another first-rate choice.



Coupled with "Mysterious Mountain" are Hovhaness's Symphony No. 66, "Hymn to Glacier Peak" (1991); Symphony No. 50, "Mt. St. Helens" (1982); and a particularly energetic rendering of a short early work, "Storm on Mount Wildcat" (1931). I found the Allegro to "Mt. St. Helens" as moving a piece of music as I've heard in a long time.



The Telarc engineers, recording the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic for the first time, produced as smooth a sound as anything they've done. It's not necessarily the most transparent or the most-dimensional sound they've ever recorded, but it is certainly dynamic, natural, and listenable, and it suits the spiritual nature of the music making nicely.



JJP



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





December 12, 2011

Hovhaness: American Mystic (CD review)

Music of Alan Hovhaness: Centennial Collection. Gerard Schwarz, Seattle Symphony Orchestra; Keith Brion, Ohio State University Concert Band; Shanghai Quartet. Delos DE 3421.



If Alan Hovhaness had been born in the nineteenth century, people would have called him a Romantic (or a Romanticist). But he was born and lived in the twentieth century (1911-2000), surrounded by "modern" composers experimenting with impressionism, expressionism, twelve-tone techniques, microtones, aleatoric music, indeterminacy, stochastic music, intuitive music, neoclassicism, free improvisation, process music, atonal ideas, and the like. Hovhaness's more "spiritual" music, dwelling as it did on harmonies and melodies and moods of wonder, reflection, and meditation, must have seemed downright old-fashioned. Thus, his label as a "mystic."



Delos recorded quite a lot of Hovhaness's music in 80's and 90's, a dozen or more albums, and on the present disc they have collected together some of the composer's most-representative pieces, culled from their back catalogue and featuring several outstanding ensembles. The CD makes a good introduction to Hovhaness's vast output (the man wrote some sixty-seven symphonies alone) and for those listeners not familiar with the composer, it may whet the appetite for more intensive collecting of his material.



The relatively lengthy and diverse program begins with the little Prayer of St. Gregory, Op. 62b, with Gerard Schwarz leading the Seattle Symphony Orchestra and Charles Butler on trumpet. Delos recorded it beautifully--it sounds rich, resonant, and detailed--and the performance is heartfelt and serene.



Next is The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam, Op. 308, again with Schwarz and the Seattle Symphony, featuring Michael York as the narrator and Diane Schmidt on accordion. It is atmospheric, romantic, and effective.



Following those items are 4 Bagatelles, Op. 30, done by the Shanghai Quartet. The group seems somewhat big-sounding for the occasion, but they play beautifully.



Then it's on to the centerpiece of the collection, the Symphony No. 2 "Mysterious Mountain," Op. 132. Although Hovhaness had been composing professionally for twenty-odd years before Leopold Stokowski premiered the Second Symphony in 1955, it was the work that made the composer famous, and it remains today probably his most well-known piece of music. Under Schwarz and the Seattle Symphony, it is certainly evocative and mystical in tone, although I have a slight preference for the much-older performance by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony (RCA). Oddly, too, the Seattle midrange sonics are a tad steely, yet without in any way sounding edgy and having a fine, extended high end.



The Shanghai Quartet return for the String Quartet No. 2, Op. 147, "Gamelan in Sosi Style" and "Spirit Murmur," two movements that are direct and sorrowful, with obvious Asian and South Pacific influences.



The most-surprising music on the program is The Flowering Peach, Op. 125, performed by the Ohio State University Concert Band under director Keith Brion. It sounds nothing like band music but is chamber-like in its approach, using saxophone, clarinet, harp, and various percussion instruments. Also surprising, it is incidental music Hovhaness wrote in 1954 for a Broadway play by Clifford Odets, and it includes a whole passel of different cultural idioms. As with most of the recordings on the album, it sounds wonderful in its laid-back, leisurely style.



The program concludes with a personal favorite of mine, And God Created Great Whales, Op. 229, again with Schwarz and his Seattle Orchestra. It is probably the most environmentally correct music ever written, incorporating as it does the actual songs of whales within the score. Hovhaness composed it in 1970, and I remember first hearing it during a presentation on whales at a local natural museum show. A delightfully soft, relaxed recording helps make the piece a fascinating and totaling engrossing work.



I might add that Delos provide over seventy-five minutes of selections on the disc, a generous offering that only just touches the surface of the composer's prodigious output.



JJP

Meet the Staff

Meet the Staff
John J. Puccio, Founder and Contributor

Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on the Big Jon and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.

Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing for the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.

Karl Nehring, Editor and Contributor

For more than 20 years I was the editor of The $ensible Sound magazine and a regular contributor to both its equipment and recordings review pages. I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, "classical" especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me — point out recordings that they think I might enjoy.

For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises Marantz CD 6007 and Onkyo CD 7030 CD players, NAD C 658 streaming preamp/DAC, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE loudspeakers. I occasionally do some listening through pair of Sennheiser 560S headphones. I miss the excellent ELS Studio sound system in our 2016 Acura RDX (now my wife's daily driver) on which I had ripped more than a hundred favorite CDs to the hard drive, so now when driving my 2022 Accord EX-L Hybrid I stream music from my phone through its adequate but not outstanding factory system. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through the phone into a Vizio soundbar system that has tolerably nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence. And finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom II Bluetooth speaker for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can’t imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technology that enables us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.

William (Bill) Heck, Webmaster and Contributor

Among my early childhood memories are those of listening to my mother playing records (some even 78 rpm ones!) of both classical music and jazz tunes. I suppose that her love of music was transmitted genetically, and my interest was sustained by years of playing in rock bands – until I realized that this was no way to make a living. The interest in classical music was rekindled in grad school when the university FM station serving as background music for studying happened to play the Brahms First Symphony. As the work came to an end, it struck me forcibly that this was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and from that point on, I never looked back. This revelation was to the detriment of my studies, as I subsequently spent way too much time simply listening, but music has remained a significant part of my life. These days, although I still can tell a trumpet from a bassoon and a quarter note from a treble clef, I have to admit that I remain a nonexpert. But I do love music in general and classical music in particular, and I enjoy sharing both information and opinions about it.

The audiophile bug bit about the same time that I returned to classical music. I’ve gone through plenty of equipment, brands from Audio Research to Yamaha, and the best of it has opened new audio insights. Along the way, I reviewed components, and occasionally recordings, for The $ensible Sound magazine. Most recently I’ve moved to my “ultimate system” consisting of a BlueSound Node streamer, an ancient Toshiba multi-format disk player serving as a CD transport, Legacy Wavelet DAC/preamp/crossover, dual Legacy PowerBloc2 amps, and Legacy Signature SE speakers (biamped), all connected with decently made, no-frills cables. With the arrival of CD and higher resolution streaming, that is now the source for most of my listening.

Ryan Ross, Contributor

I started listening to and studying classical music in earnest nearly three decades ago. This interest grew naturally out of my training as a pianist. I am now a musicologist by profession, specializing in British and other symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries. My scholarly work has been published in major music journals, as well as in other outlets. Current research focuses include twentieth-century symphonic historiography, and the music of Jean Sibelius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Malcolm Arnold.

I am honored to contribute writings to Classical Candor. In an age where the classical recording industry is being subjected to such profound pressures and changes, it is more important than ever for those of us steeped in this cultural tradition to continue to foster its love and exposure. I hope that my readers can find value, no matter how modest, in what I offer here.


Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst

I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.

Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.

Mission Statement

It is the goal of Classical Candor to promote the enjoyment of classical music. Other forms of music come and go--minuets, waltzes, ragtime, blues, jazz, bebop, country-western, rock-'n'-roll, heavy metal, rap, and the rest--but classical music has been around for hundreds of years and will continue to be around for hundreds more. It's no accident that every major city in the world has one or more symphony orchestras.

When I was young, I heard it said that only intellectuals could appreciate classical music, that it required dedicated concentration to appreciate. Nonsense. I'm no intellectual, and I've always loved classical music. Anyone who's ever seen and enjoyed Disney's Fantasia or a Looney Tunes cartoon playing Rossini's William Tell Overture or Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 can attest to the power and joy of classical music, and that's just about everybody.

So, if Classical Candor can expand one's awareness of classical music and bring more joy to one's life, more power to it. It's done its job. --John J. Puccio

Contact Information

Readers with polite, courteous, helpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@gmail.com

Readers with impolite, discourteous, bitchy, whining, complaining, nasty, mean-spirited, unhelpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@recycle.bin.

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa