Igor Levit: Tristan (CD review)

(CD1) Liszt: Liebestraum No. 3; Henze: Tristan; (CD2) Wagner: Tristan und Isolde Prelude (Piano arrangement by Zoltán Kocsis); Mahler: Symphony No. 10: Adagio (Piano arrangement by Ronald Stevenson); Liszt: Harmonies du Soir. Igor Levit, piano; Franz Welser-Möst, Gewandhausorchester Leipzig (in the Henze). Sony Classics 19439943482.

By Karl W. Nehring

Let me say at the outset that Tristan is an album of contrasts and extremes that is at the same time strangely unified. If that opening sentence makes me sound confused or perhaps even a touch insane, blame it on my having listened to this album over and over in a vain attempt to decide what sort of recommendation to give it. It’s a strange, wonderful album, offputting and endearing, but certainly not boring. You can certainly get a sense of what I mean by this from the heading over the liner notes, which shouts out in capital letters:

“SINGING, LAMENTING AND SCREAMING
IGOR LEVIT PLAYS SONGS OF LOVE AND DEATH”

Although the program itself opens with Liszt’s familiar and soothing Liebestraum No. 3, as the liner notes immediately make apparent, the centerpiece of the album is its title piece, Tristan, a six-movement, 50-minute work for piano, electronic tapes, and orchestra. Actually, the composition consists of six separate movements or ,as Henze calls them, preludes: I. Prologue, II. Lament, III Prelude and Variations, IV. Tristan’s Folly, V. Adagio - Burla 1 - Burla II - Ricercare I – Burla III – Ricercare II, VI. Epilogue. Although the presence of Levit on piano and Welser-Möst with the orchestra in the cover credits might lead one to assume that Tristan is a piano concerto, such is not really the case. The six pieces were composed separately and then assembled together – including not just then piano and orchestral parts, but also the tapes.

The liner notes explain that “Henze has left us a detailed description of the genesis of his Tristan, including much of its autobiographical background. He prepared three tapes with Peter Zinovieff, a well-known pioneer of electronic music in London whose inventions had a considerable influence on the pop music of those years, notably on Pink Floyd. Polyphonic music from the Renaissance, complex contrapuntal writing for a veritable battery of percussion instruments, Chopin’s funeral march and the aforementioned Prelude to Act Three of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde all found their way onto these tapes. Henze then added the virtuosic orchestral parts minutely timed to these tapes, which functioned as a fixed bass. To the still-incomplete first Prelude for solo piano he now added two further preludes, with the result that the work grew to a total of six sections, a hybrid of electronic music, a concerto, and an example of music theatre that defies all of our conventional ideas on the subject of genre.”

Yes, that sounds like quite a big mess, and there are times when it sounds like, yes, a mess. But there are also passages of delicacy and wonder. For the most part, Levit’s piano seems to float above the rest of the score, which at times includes quotations from other musical works – for example, the opening of Brahms’s Symphony No 1. pops up out of nowhere and then just as quickly disappears back into the void. Tristan is a strange piece – interesting to listen to a few times, perhaps – but not likely to be something that many music lovers will return to very often, if at all.

The second disc will likely have much more appeal to a much broader audience. After hearing Henze’s complex, multi-layered, and at times frenzied take on Wagner’s Tristan, to hear Levit play the Tristan Prelude in an arrangement for solo piano is like leaving the frenzy and frustrations of rush-hour traffic for an enjoyable drive down a scenic highway. Many music lovers have no doubt become familiar with this music not from attending a production of opera itself, watching a video production of it, or even from listening to a recording of the opera, but rather by listening to a recording of orchestral excerpts. To hear Wagner’s lush orchestration reduced down to keyboard scale offers an intimate gaze into the heart of the music, music that Levit brings to life with a blend of passion and precision.

Next up is the opening movement Adagio from Mahler’s Symphony No. 10 in an arrangement for piano by the late Scottish composer and pianist Ronald Stevenson, whose Passacaglia on DSCH  as recorded by Levit along with Shostakovich’s 24 Preludes and Fugues was reviewed previously here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2021/09/recent-releases-no-19-cd-reviews.html. Unfortunately, Mahler’s orchestration is just too powerful and dramatic to be portrayed by a piano; it just doesn’t quite satisfy. Wagner’s score worked for the piano, but Mahler’s – sorry, it’s no fault of Levit’s, but it just doesn’t work. Fortunately, Levit chooses to end the program with a work written expressly for the piano, the eleventh of Liszt’s Trancendental Etudes, titled Harmonies du Soir (“Evening Harmonies”). This is a gorgeous piece of music, full of rippling arpeggiated chords, reflective and calming, bringing the program to a peaceful, satisfying conclusion. The sound quality is excellent, as are the liner notes. Although I have reservations about the Henze, it is a piece the adventurous among our readers may want to give an audition. The Mahler, although unconvincing in itself, might certainly be of interest to Mahlerians looking for some more insight into the music. The Liszt and Wagner are beyond reproach. No, this is not a release for everyone, but for some, it will be quite a source of excitement. You know who you are.

KWN

Liszt: Piano Concertos 1 & 2 (CD review)

Also, Piano Sonata No. 2. Alexander Ullman, piano; Andrew Litton, BBC Symphony Orchestra. Rubicon Classics RCD1057.

By John J. Puccio

For those of you unfamiliar with Alexander Ullman, “he first came to international attention in 2011 after winning the Franz Liszt International Piano Competition in Budapest. Born in London in 1991, he studied at the Purcell School, the Curtis Institute and the Royal College of Music, completing his Artist Diploma as the ‘Benjamin Britten Piano Fellow’ in 2017.” Since then he has appeared on concert stages all over the world and recorded about half a dozen albums. His Web site says “praised for his subtle interpretations and refined technical mastery, British pianist Alexander Ullman has impressed audiences and critics worldwide with his deep understanding of the scores he interprets, his elegant touch and crystalline phrasing.”

On the present CD he is accompanied by Andrew Litton, who needs no introduction, and the BBC Symphony Orchestra. Together they tackle two of the mainstays of the classical piano repertoire, Liszt’s piano concertos, along with his celebrated piano sonata. Mr. Ullman does, indeed, impress the listener with an “elegant touch,” as one might expect from a fellow who has won several Liszt piano competitions.

So, first on the agenda is the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E-flat, S.124, which the Hungarian virtuoso pianist and composer Franz Liszt (1811-1886) wrote in 1855. However, Liszt had been working on it for over a quarter of a century, completing a first draft around 1830 and completing it 1849. When Liszt finally premiered it, he played the solo part himself, with Hector Berlioz conducting. It’s probably the more famous of Liszt’s piano concertos because it’s the more virtuosic of the two, its dramatic opening notes likely known even to non-classical lovers.

Ullman is certainly a bravura pianist, so he gets the big, expressive sections of the score, like the opening, across with appropriate energy. Still, he doesn’t always communicate as much color or character with these sections, as, say, Sviatoslav Richter did in his old Philips recording (now remastered by HDTT). Ullman dazzles us, to be sure, with the dexterity of his fingers, but he doesn’t always deliver much more than sonic fireworks. On the other hand, Ullman does a terrific job with the softer, more introspective parts of the music, which can be heart-meltingly beautiful. For instance, the second-movement Quasi Adagio never sounded lovelier. What’s more, the little Allegretto Vivace dances with a sweet, lighthearted playfulness. In all, Ullman projects Liszt’s fancy flourishes with plenty of gusto but without a lot of colorful flair, while delivering the quieter moments in a most touching manner. Maestro Litton and his BBC players do a fine job accompanying Ullman, and even keeping up with him.

The second item on the program is the Piano Sonata in B minor, S.178, which Liszt wrote in 1853. Of all Liszt’s work, the Sonata has probably drawn the most criticism, comment, and praise. Here, Ullman takes his time, though never sluggish, and interprets the piece with a calm and reassuring poise. He makes maximum use of contrasts and pauses to draw out the best in the music. The music elicits the best from Ullman, too, who draws together the sonata’s six brief movements into a coherent whole rather than a series of sometimes diverse and discordant pieces.

The closing selection is Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in A, S.125. As with the Concerto No. 1, Liszt wrote a first draft some years before revising and completing a final version, premiering it in 1857. This Second Concerto is more subtle and in many ways more imaginative than his First Concerto, which might explain why it isn’t quite as recognizable as the First. Whatever, Ullman handles the music with delicacy and charm. While the piece may not have the flamboyant elements of the First Concerto, it more than makes up for it in its poetic grace, which Ullman seems to relish. It’s also noteworthy that Litton and the orchestra seemed more prominent here than I’ve noticed before in this score, doing as much to convey the music as the piano does. It’s as lovely an interpretation of the Second Concerto as any I’ve heard.

Producers Matthew Cosgrove and Andrew Keener and engineer Dave Rowell recorded the music at Henry Wood Hall, London in September 2020 and 2021. The sound is very clear but at the expensive of being a little forward. There is good imaging in the concertos, with the pianist nicely focused up front and the orchestra spread out behind him. I just wish the lower treble weren’t quite so sharp and bright. The sound of the sonata was more to my like liking, the piano miked at just the right distance to appear lifelike without being glossy or glaring.

JJP

Daniel Barenboim: Encores (CD review)

Music of Albeniz, Chopin, Debussy, Liszt, Schubert, and Schumann. Daniel Barenboim, piano. DG 486 0932.

By John J. Puccio

By now, Daniel Barenboim’s name is undoubtedly familiar to almost every classical music fan far and wide. He came to my attention in the late 1960’s when I was becoming ever more serious about listening to and collecting classical music. He was among a handful of pianists whom I admired, among them Maurizo Pollini, Van Cliburn, Vladimir Ashkenazy, and Martha Argerich, which was pretty heady company.

Barenboim (b. 1942) is, of course, both a pianist and a conductor; a citizen of Argentina, Israel, Spain, and Palestine; the current Music Director of the Berlin State Opera and the Staatskapelle Berlin; and the former conductor of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the Orchestre de Paris, and La Scala. With his numerous recordings as both a pianist and conductor, it’s no wonder his name is so well known.

For the present solo piano album, he offers us a bit of respite from the hectic world in which we all live, some “encores” as he calls them. They are charming, well-known piano miniatures from some of the most well-known composers of the classical world, pieces he has often used as encores in his stage recitals. Here’s a rundown of the program:

Schubert: Impromptu in G flat
Schubert: Moment musical in F minor
Schumann: Traumerei
Schumann: Fantasiestucke, Op. 12
Schumann: Aufschwung. Warum? Traumes Wirren
Liszt: Consolation No. 3 in D flat
Chopin: Nocturne in F sharp major
Chopin: 3 Etudes, Op. 25, Nos. 1, 2 and 7
Chopin: 3 Etudes, Op. 10, Nos. 4, 6 and 8
Debussy: Clair de lune
Albeniz: Tango from Espana

As Barenboim remarks, these miniatures may be brief, but they are long on significance. They are packed with emotion, feeling, and atmosphere. The first two of the selections are from Franz Schubert, who practically invented the use of “songs without words.” It’s good to see that Barenboim hasn’t lost his touch when it comes to projecting a comfortably relaxed interpretation. This is especially true, too, of Robert Schumann’s lovely Traumerei (“Dreaming,” the seventh of Schumann’s thirteen Scenes from Childhood). Barenboim maintains the music’s serenity without giving in to sentimentality.

And so it goes with all of the selections. Each displays Barenboim’s subtlety and grace, his assured manner, and sensitive technique. Liszt’s Consolation No. 3 evokes a stillness and comfort; Chopin’s Nocturne No. 3 a dreamy ease; the Etudes a sweet, gentle purity contrasted with a lively spirit. Debussy’s Clair de lune comes in the penultimate spot, fitting for a major little masterpiece.  Needless to say,  Barenboim plays it with all due respect, a glowing, towering little gem. Then the pianist ends the show with one of my favorite tangos, No. 2 from Espana. It provides a fitting conclusion to an album of refinement, eloquence, and intellect.

Producer Friedemann Engelbrecht and engineer Julian Schwenkner recorded the music at Pierre Boulez Saal, Berlin in April 2020 and Teldex Studio Berlin in 2017. DG always do a good job recording piano music, and this is no exception. The piano tone is warmer and mellower than usual, but it’s still realistic, reminiscent of a piano playing in a large room, with plenty of rich resonance. Transparency is fine, and the instrument appears to be rather closely miked, so that adds to the detailing.

JJP

Tchaikovsky: Piano Concerto No. 1 (CD review)

Also, Liszt: Le Jeux d'eaux a la Villa d'Este; Sonetto 104 del Petrarca; Reminiscences de Don Juan. George Li, piano; Vasily Petrenko, London Philharmonic Orchestra. Warner Classics 0190295379575.



I usually avoid live recordings. I don't think they sound as realistic, as natural, as a good studio recording. But I also understand today's economic situation, and I understand it's hard for even the biggest record companies to produce financially marketable products with the high costs involved for studio time, musicians' contracts, and the like. So, we have what we have, probably half or more of all orchestral recordings done during live performances, this one from pianist George Li, Maestro Vasily Petrenko, and the Royal Philharmonic made during a concert at London's Royal Festival Hall. The solo Liszt pieces were done in a studio, though, so all is not lost, and to be fair, the concerto comes off well enough, too.



So, first, who is George Li? He's a young (b. 1995) American concert pianist who made his solo debut at the age of eight and his orchestral debut at nine. Then he placed second at the 2015 International Tchaikovsky Competition (the same competition Van Cliburn won in 1958) and received an Avery Fisher Career Grant in 2016. Yes, like so many young musicians these days, he's got the credentials, and he has played with numerous international orchestras ever since. This Tchaikovsky/Liszt album is his second release, and the Tchaikovsky is his first with orchestra.



The program begins with Tchaikovsky's ever-popular Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat minor, Op. 23. Yet the composer never seemed satisfied with it. He completed it in 1874-75, revised it in 1879, and then revised it yet again in 1888. It may have been that Tchaikovsky was simply thin-skinned and could not bear the criticism that came before and after the concerto's première, or maybe he didn't care for the way the first performers played it. Whatever, audiences seemed to like the piece more as the years wore on, and today it one of the best-known piano concertos in the world.

George Li

The concerto's opening theme, one of the most famous in all of music, is towering, monumental in nature, and often played in a heroic style befitting its scope. Certainly, Li starts off well, with plenty of bravura. Yet as the movement goes on, one senses a few too many fluctuations of tempo and contrast for the whole to stick together fully. The virtuosity is assuredly there, and Li is unquestionably a major talent. It's just that thus far his musical instincts may not have entirely matured as much as they undoubtedly will. I realize why Li and Warner Classics wanted to record the Tchaikovsky for his first orchestral recording, it being the piece that vaulted him to prominence in competition, but I'm not sure he won't re-record it a few years (or decades) from now in an even more coherent and persuasive performance.



Pianists on record have interpreted the second, slow movement in a variety of ways, with some zipping through it in as little six minutes and others taking a more leisurely approach in as much as eight minutes. Li takes a middle ground (literally) at about seven minutes in an interpretation that may not mark any new ground but comes off well enough. It has a lovely lyrical grace that is splendidly communicated.



The final Allegro con fuoco is both fiery and lyrical by turns, a general romp. Here, as in the first movement, Li starts off well enough, with dazzling finger work, and continues the exercise with consistency through to the end. Maestro Petrenko and his orchestra seem equally up to the task and back up Li with vigor, enthusiasm, and good humor. For the most part, the movement is a solid, red-blooded account of the score that seldom lets go of its grip on the listener.



That said, it's probably still the concerto's first movement that many listeners cherish and remember most, and Li's interpretation of it does not displace those of Cliburn (RCA/JVC), Horowitz (RCA), Argerich (DG, Philips), Giles (RCA), Wild (Chesky), and others in a very competitive field. However, there remains the Liszt works below, which may be worth the price of the disc.



Accompanying the Tchaikovsky, Li has chosen three solo pieces by Franz Liszt: Le Jeux d'eaux a la Villa d'Este; Sonetto 104 del Petrarca; and Reminiscences de Don Juan. Although Liszt originally wrote them as vocal pieces with accompaniment, he later transcribed them for piano alone. As with most of Liszt's work, they are colorful and pictorial, and Li takes advantage of it. In fact, I enjoyed Li's Liszt readings more than I did the Tchaikovsky concerto. His incredible technique is captivating, and, unlike the Tchaikovsky, he seems able here to convey a more consistent impression of the composer's poetry and beauty. Although the subject matter of the Liszt pieces may seem at odds with the more flamboyant work of Tchaikovsky, it's well worth hearing. Indeed, it made me wish Li had done a whole album of Liszt, with maybe Liszt's first piano concerto rather than Tchaikovsky's.



Executive producer Alain Lanceron and the team of Philip Burwell and Chris Muir recorded the piano concerto live at the Royal Festival Hall, Southbank Centre, London in March 2019; and producer Antonio Oliart recorded the solo pieces at Fraser Performance Studio, WGBH, Boston in July 2019.



As expected, the concerto recording is fairly close, with the piano quite dominant. Also as expected it is very dynamic, which goes a long way toward mitigating the closeness. Surprising, perhaps, there is also a small but welcome degree of hall ambience present, and the sound is reasonably warm and smooth. The piano sound is lifelike enough, although seeming to recede and advance occasionally, while the orchestral clarity is a tad muffled in addition to being somewhat one-dimensional. The editors mercifully expunged any closing applause from the conclusion of the concerto.



In the studio-recorded Liszt, the piano is as smooth as we heard it in the concerto, and it's miked at enough a distance to provide it with a natural warmth.



JJP



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

Songs for Strings (CD review)

Arranged and conducted by Donald Fraser, English Symphony Orchestra, English Chamber Orchestra. Avie AV2391.



These days in particular, it's important for any new classical release to offer something unique, something that hasn't been done (much) before. Hardly any record company wants to do another Beethoven symphony; the catalogue is too filled already with great recordings of the basic repertoire. Thus, a new release has to feature a hot, new star; or it has to feature some unusual instrument or instruments; or it has to feature new arrangements of other things, as we have here.



Donald Fraser is an English composer, arranger, conductor, and record producer whose album Songs for Strings features fifteen selections, some old, some new, some well known, others not so well known, rearranged for string orchestra, either the English Symphony or the English Chamber Orchestra. Fraser conducts both ensembles and produces some decidedly winning and entertaining results.



Here's a run-down on the program:

  1. Edward Elgar (1857-1934): The Queen's Hall

  2. John Dowland (1563-1626): And Time Stands Still

  3. Henry Purcell (1659-1695): Ground in C

  4. Antonio Lotti (1667-1740): Crucifixus

  5. Nicola Antonio Porpora (1686-1768): Fugue in G

  6. Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741): Largo from Concerto for Two Cellos

  7. David Fraser: Lord Lovat's Lament

  8. Franz Liszt (1811-1886): Nuage Gris (Grey Clouds)

  9. Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915): 9. Canon

10. Maurice Ravel (1875-1937): Valse (in the manner of Borodin)

11. Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Pleading

12. Edward Elgar: A Child Asleep

13. Edward Elgar: Queen Mary's Lute Song

14. Donald Fraser: Epilogue for Strings

15. Marin Marais (1656-1728): Sonnerie



All of the tracks are attractive: lush yet transparent and beautifully presented. If there's any drawback, it's that the pieces are rather brief, three or four minutes each at best. The program doesn't attempt to present a unified whole, so it's more like a pop album with a lot of varied material. Not that that's bad; just different for a classical album. Call it a crossover album if you will. Whatever, it makes for sweet, easy listening.



Favorites? Of course. "The Queen's Hall" sets the tone for the program: rich, plush, flowing, and thoroughly delightful. Everything else follows suit. Purcell's "Ground in C minor" has a Pachelbel quality to it, which Fraser alludes to in a booklet note. Lotti's choral hymn "Cruxifixus" translates well to strings.

Donald Fraser

Vivaldi's Largo from the Concerto for 2 Cellos sounds lovely, but we have come to hear so much of Vivaldi's music expanded for larger string forces that it doesn't carry quite the distinctiveness of many of the album's other pieces.



"Lord Lovat's Lament" is an arrangement of a Scottish tune originally written by an ancestor of the present David Fraser. It has an attractive folk-song lilt to it and sounds quite charming in its present incarnation. I kind of missed a bagpipe, though. That arrangement sounds positively ancient compared to the work that follows it, a very modern-sounding, impressionistic "Grey Clouds" by Franz Liszt. While it's probably the second most-unusual track on the program, it's also among the most interesting.



Alexander Scriabin wrote his "Canon" when he was twelve years old. Remarkable, and Fraser's transcription for strings holds up well, perhaps giving it new life. Again, as a contrast, we get Ravel's little "Valse" (in the style of Borodin), an engaging moment that flies by only too fast. Then there are four vocal works--three by Elgar and one by Fraser himself--that sound pastoral and entrancing in their new string attire.



Fraser ends the program with the only non-orchestral track, Marin Marais's "Sonnerie" ("The Bells of St. Genevieve"), a remix for violin and electronics and inspired by the imitation of bells. It was a hit for Fraser back in the late 90's, and it's without question the most singular work he offers, sounding a bit more like Wendy Carlos or Tomita than the other works on the program. Still, it's an attractive piece and holds its own fascinating if disparate pleasures.



Producer Donald Fraser and engineer Simon Kiln recorded the music at Studio No. 1, Abbey Road, London in  July 2013 (ECO) and Studio No. 2, Abbey Road in April 2018 (ESO). They recorded the final track on the album at The Barn Studio, Shirland, Illinois in May 2018. Like so many recordings before it made at the Abbey Road studios, this one sounds lifelike and detailed, never dull or veiled. The solid bass line stands out without overpowering the midrange; the highs glisten; and the mids are about as transparent as one could want. It's a bit close, yet a mild studio bloom enhances the overall effect of realism. Although from Avie, it actually sounds like a vintage EMI-London Symphony analogue recording from the 1970's, for me, anyway, a golden age of fine recording. So, yeah, I liked it a lot.



JJP



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

Liszt: Symphonic Poems (SACD review)

Ferenc Fricsay, RIAS Symphony Berlin; Stanislav Macura, Prague Radio Symphony; Herbert von Karajan, Berlin Philharmonic; Rafael Kubelik, Bavarian Radio Symphony. Praga Digitals PRD/DSD 350 124.



This album makes me wonder how many other fine older recordings studios have on their shelves collecting dust and possibly never getting a transfer to CD. Of the four Liszt symphonic poems on the disc, two of them are currently unavailable on compact disc, and the others only appear coupled to other, longer items. Whatever, Praga Digitals have remastered four older Liszt recordings in hybrid SACD bi-channel, and the performances and sound are first-rate for any year.



As you undoubtedly know, the Hungarian composer and pianist Franz Liszt (1811-86) practically invented the term "symphonic poem" as well as the form itself. Of course, program music has been around longer than Liszt; that is, music that depicts nonmusical ideas, such as Vivaldi's Four Seasons or Beethoven's "Pastoral" Symphony. But Liszt took program music a step further than mere imitation of things in nature, and he used thematic transformations to represent poetic emotions. It's a style that later composers like Richard Strauss would combine with program music to extend the form even more.



Les Preludes was the third of Liszt's symphonic poems. He premiered it in 1854 and published the score in 1856. The title refers to an Ode from Alphonse de Lamartine in Nouvelles méditations poétiques, written in 1823, although Liszt originally conceived it as an overture. In any case, the title has long given rise to discussion about what it actually means. What is the music a "prelude" or introduction to? While opinions differ on the matter (Liszt himself hinted that it suggested a prelude to his own path of composition), most listeners agree on the music's merits. It's exciting, uplifting, inspirational even, which is perhaps why most older folks will recognize it as the main theme music used throughout the Flash Gordon serials of the 1930's.



Ferenc Fricsay and the RIAS Symphony Berlin recorded the piece in 1956, and it remains among the best performances one can find. It may not convey quite the power or energy that Solti would later project, but it does sound more nuanced, more subtle, than Solti's performance and at the same time maintains a good level of involvement and forward momentum. Given the score's various mood changes, Fricsay does a good job holding it together in fine, dramatic fashion and ends it at full boil.

Ferenc Fricsay

Next on the program is Tasso, Lamento e Trionfo, the composer influenced by music he had heard in Venice and by a poem by Lord Byron. Liszt wrote of it, "Tasso loved and suffered at Ferrara, he was avenged at Rome, and even today lives in the popular songs of Venice. These three moments are inseparable from his immortal fame. To reproduce them in music, we first conjured up the great shade as he wanders through the lagoons of Venice even today; then his countenance appeared to us, lofty and melancholy, as he gazes at the festivities at Ferrara, where he created his masterworks; and finally we followed him to Rome, the Eternal City, which crowned him with fame and thus pays him tribute both as martyr and as poet."



Conductor Stanislav Macura conducts the Prague Radio Symphony in an appropriately atmospheric reading of the score. The conductor is serious to a fault, solemn, in fact, when need be, and melodramatic when the music calls for it, too. He easily keeps one engrossed in the presentation, which is mostly all one can ask of a conductor. The Prague ensemble play splendidly.



Liszt wrote Mazeppa in 1851, taking his inspiration from Victor Hugo and Lord Byron, all of them owing to the story of Ivan Mazeppa, who seduced a noble Polish lady and was tied naked to a wild horse that carried him to Ukraine, where he later achieved a rank of leadership. The music should evoke images of plains, silence, wonder, surprise, and triumph.



Here, the estimable Herbert von Karajan conducts the equally laudable Berlin Philharmonic in a lofty performance of real power, force, and size, which is about what we would come to expect from the glamorous conductor and his mighty assemblage of players.



The final symphonic poem on the program is one of Liszt's last and less well known, Die Ideale. Written in 1857-58, Liszt based the music on sections of a poem of the same name by German poet Friedrich Schiller. It may not be one of Liszt's most-popular pieces, but Maestro Rafael Kubelik gives it his all and helps to produce a reasonably notable performance, spoiled only by the recording's distracting, less-than-impressive live sound.



Karel Soukenik of Studio Domovina, Prague, remastered the recordings for hybrid SACD playback in 2017. Les Preludes derives from a studio stereo recording made in Berlin, 1956; Tasso from a studio stereo recording made in Prague, 1975; Mazeppa from a studio stereo recording made in Berlin, 1960; and Die Ideale from a live monaural recording, 1974.



The studio recordings all sound good, particularly in SACD, but, interestingly, it's the Preludes that sounds especially good, and it's the oldest of the lot. There's good clarity, good depth of field, and good dynamics. While there is some distortion at the high end, one can fairly easily live with it. Tasso, made almost twenty years later, is marginally smoother but no more transparent. Mazeppa sounds a tad brighter than the others, a touch glassier and less warm. There is, however, a better sense of space, of hall acoustics, here than in the other pieces. The live mono recording of Die Ideale, though, sounds worst of all because it's accompanied by an insistent background noise that's quite distracting and seems projected to every corner of the room.



JJP



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

Liszt for Two (CD review)

Hungarian Rhapsodies for Piano Four-Hands; Mephisto Waltz for Two Pianos. Georgia and Louise Mangos, piano. Cedille Records CDR 90000 052.



We are all more or less familiar with the orchestral arrangements of a half dozen of Franz Liszt's nineteen Hungarian Rhapsodies for Piano, but what is less well known is that he adapted them for piano duos (one piano, four hands), too.



Just when or why Liszt made the later duet arrangements nobody's quite sure, but as the accompanying booklet explains, Liszt did play them with students in his later years. A handy chart in the booklet provides the new numbering of the duos, as well as of the orchestral versions. The original piano solos that get the duo and orchestral treatments are Nos. 2, 5, 6, 9, 12, and 14.

Georgia and Louise Mangos

The Mangos sisters, Georgia and Louise, play the works with appropriate gypsy flair, although it turns out that none of the tunes Liszt employed were genuine folk songs at all but "popular light music that the gypsies had transformed into their own unique performing style." In any case, the Mangos ladies perform all of it with an effortless spirit, yet with a degree of lyricism not commonly associated with the pieces. Their manner seems a touch lighter, less flamboyant, and more poetic than the best solo interpretations I've heard. Of course, for two sets of hands, the Rhapsodies sound richer and fuller than usual, and they take a moment's getting used to. Then, the sisters do the Mephisto Waltz No. 1 coupling as arranged for two separate pianos, and that appears richer still.



The recording is another of Cedille's demo-quality productions, made by the team of producer James Ginsburg and engineer Bill Maylone. The piano sound is as natural, as well balanced, and as well detailed as anything I've heard, miked at a moderate distance with enough room ambiance to ensure a realistic presentation. In fact, the dynamics of the production make the whole thing sound as though you're sitting in front of the performers live as they play.



Finally, I hope you will forgive me for a totally uncalled-for aside: Upon reaching No. 4 in D minor, based upon the popular No. 2 in C# Minor, I couldn't help thinking as I listened to four hands playing the piece of the old Looney Tunes cartoon with Bugs and Daffy Duck trying to outdo one another. No, it bears no relationship to that silliness, but, still, old stereotypes die hard.



This is another outstanding Cedille recording, both musically and sonically.



JJP



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

Liszt: Piano Concertos (SACD review)

Also, Malediction. Alexandre Kantorow, piano; Jean-Jacques Kantorow, Tapiola Sinfonietta. BIS 2100.



There are any number of young musicians I've never heard of. For instance, from the biography of this young pianist, "Alexandre Kantorow was born in 1997. After some lessons with Pierre-Alain Volondat, Alexandre joined the Schola Cantorum in Paris to study with Igor Lazko. He has also received advice from such eminent teachers as Jacques Rouvier, Théodore Paraschivesco, Georges Pludermacher, Christian Ivaldi and Jean-Philippe Collard. Alexandre continues his studies at the Paris National Conservatoire with Frank Braley and Haruko Ueda. He has won several first prizes in international competitions, and has played with orchestras such as the Bordeaux Chamber Orchestra, Orléans Symphony Orchestra and the Kaunas Symphony Orchestra in Lithuania."



On the current album, his solo debut with orchestra, Mr. Kantorow plays the two famous Liszt piano concertos and the little concerto "Malediction," accompanied by his more well-known violinist and conductor father Jean-Jacques Kantorow and the Tapiola Sinfonietta.



Insofar as concerns these performances being indispensable additions to every classical music lover's library, I wouldn't go so far as to say so; but they are fine, lyrical accounts of the music, with good nuance and excitement. In fact, out of context, one can hardly fault the performances. The problem comes when one compares Kantorow's readings with some of the classic recordings that have gone before.



Yes, I know it's unfair to make comparisons, but without them it's simply too hard to tell a good performance from a great one. In this case, after hearing Kantorow's rendition of the First Concerto, I listened to Sviatoslav Richter's version with Kiril Kondrashin and the London Symphony (originally on Philips and now remastered by HDTT); then Alfred Brendel with Bernard Haitink and the London Philharmonic (Philips); and, finally, Leonard Pennario with Rene Leibowitz and the London Symphony (HDTT). Kondrashin is probably still the top-of-the-order, the benchmark by which one must measure all other interpretations, and just a few seconds is all one has to hear to know everything that one needs to know. The Kondrashin performance is majestic, towering, and compassionate, dwarfing all others. Listening again to Kantorow finds him more than adequate but rather smaller, lighter, and more youthful in every way; it's still fun though a whole lot less imposing.



Anyway, the program begins with the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E-flat major, S.124, which Hungarian pianist, composer, and conductor Franz Liszt (1811-1886) wrote over a period of some twenty-six years, starting in 1830 and premiering it in 1855. Even though we usually hear it, as here, in three distinct movements--a traditional opening Allegro, a slow Adagio combined with an animated Scherzo, and then an Allegro finale--the movements play like one continuous piece, with variations on common themes throughout.

Alexandre Kantorow

The First Concerto begins in a big, grand manner, in the style of Beethoven, Schumann, Grieg, and Tchaikovsky. Here, Kantorow and company produce an energetic realization, even if the orchestral accompaniment appears more petite than it might sound from one of the larger, major ensembles. Still, this is not a bad thing because Liszt had a modest-sized orchestra in mind, in any case. So, the opening sounds fine, and Kantorow is particularly good in the airier, more songlike parts. Then come his best moments in the Adagio movement, beautifully judged, beautifully realized, sensitive, and affecting. There's a charming freshness to the scherzo section, too, and the whole thing ends with appropriate strength and brio.



The Kantorow team chose mostly moderate tempos, but there are times when they speed things up considerably and, conversely, times when things seem to move practically at a standstill. These contrasts do no real harm to the music, but they can be a mite distracting to those used to something more traditional. Likewise, the Kantorows seem to linger longer than usual over certain pauses, which can be momentarily disconcerting.



Liszt started writing his Piano Concerto No. 2 in A major, S.125 between 1839 and 1840, putting it away for a decade and not debuting it until 1857, then revising it yet again in 1861. This concerto also sounds like one continuous movement, although Liszt divided it into six separate segments: Adagio sostenuto assai; Tempo del andante; Allegro deciso; Marziale, un poco meno allegro; Un poco meno mosso; and Allegro animato. Kantorow handles it with a deftness of touch, complementing the somewhat chamber-music style of the orchestration. This second of Liszt's principal concertos sounds a little less Romantic and less rhapsodic than the earlier concerto, and, fittingly, Kantorow plays it more spontaneously, yet with a firm direction and considerable feeling. Again, it is in the quieter passages that the pianist seems happiest, his virtuosity always at the service of the score and yielding radiant results.



Between the two major concertos, Kantorow plays the little Concerto in E minor "Malediction" (Curse), written by Liszt in 1831, revised in 1840, then put aside and only published in 1915. It's a remarkable work, predating some of Stravinsky's clashing notes, the piano accompanied only by strings. Maybe Liszt thought it was too much ahead of its time when he decided to set it away. Who knows. The main thing is that Kantorow plays it with an entertainingly sinister delight, the piece never reaching any really venomous heights but appearing soulfully malignant just the same.



Producer and sound engineer Jens Braun (Take5 Music Production) made the album in 24-bit/96 kHz at the Tapiola Concert Hall, Finland in November 2014. The recording team used Neumann and Schoeps microphones; RME, Lake People, and DirectOut electronics; MADI optical cabling; B&W, STAX, and Sennheiser monitoring equipment; and Sequoia and Pyramix digital audio workstations. They created the album for SACD or regular CD hybrid playback, so one can play it in multichannel SACD or two-channel SACD from an SACD player, or in two-channel stereo from a regular CD player. I listened in two-channel SACD using a Sony SACD player.



Except for the piano being too close for my taste, this is one of the best-sounding recordings of the concertos I can remember. The folks at BIS have captured the orchestra with extraordinary clarity and naturalness, wide, transparent, yet not at all bright or hard. The piano, too, appears exceptionally well reproduced, with a full, vibrant tone. But, yes, it does seem well out in front of the orchestra, practically in our laps. Still, it's a small price to pay for a recording as otherwise realistic as this one.



JJP



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

Through the Years (CD review)

Dmitry Paperno, piano. Cedille Records CDR 90000 074.



Soviet-born (Ukraine), American émigré concert pianist Dmitry Paperno (b. 1929) turned seventy-five in the year of this recording's release, 2004, and he showed he still knew his stuff. Through the Years remains one of the most-satisfying piano recitals you can find.



Although Dmitry Paperno is probably still not a household name in America, his talent is evident in every note of this confident, relaxing, inspired album. The material he chose for inclusion on the disc is thankfully not quite of the tried-and-true warhorse variety but a mixture of popular with lesser-known, slightly melancholy pieces that fit the mood set by the small, lonely figure in the golden autumn pictured on the CD booklet cover.

Dmitry Paperno

Among the eighteen works in the collection include Bach's Sinfonia No 2, Scarlatti's Sonata in C minor, Schumann's Intermezzo in D minor, Liszt's Sonetto del Petrarca, Debussy's "Hommage a Rameau," Borodin's "In a Monastery," and so on. But my two favorites are Beethoven's lovely "Andante favori" and Albeniz's heartbreaking "Tango." Each of the works on the disc is a tiny gem, played and polished by an artist with a feeling for the music. Paperno provides all the nuance and sensitivity the pieces demand.



Cedille's recording characteristics always sound first rate, and this effort is no different. The piano tone is quite natural, Mr. Paperno's Steinway appearing well defined without being bright, forward, hard, or edgy. There is a nice bloom to the musical ambience as well, lending a most realistic if not always transparent quality to the sonics. In other words, the sound matches the mood of the music: easy, casual, cultivated, and perfectly charming.



JJP



To hear an excerpt from this album, click on the forward arrow:

Liszt: A Faust Symphony (CD review)

Also, Dante Symphony; Les Preludes; Prometheus. Sir Georg Solti, Chicago Symphony Orchestra and London Philharmonic; Jesus Lopez-Cobos, L'Orchestre de la Suisse Romande.  Decca Double 289 466 751-1 (2-disc set).



This mid-priced Decca Double rereleased in 2001 could well be a bonanza for Liszt lovers who have been unaware of it before now. The set combines two of the composer's largest and most ambitious orchestral works with a pair of his most-popular tone poems and offers them in thrilling performances, especially the ones from Sir Georg Solti.



Some music historians credit Liszt with inventing the tone poem (which I doubt because Vivaldi and even Beethoven were doing them long before him), but no matter what Liszt himself called his music, it almost always came out a tone poem. The two "symphonies" represented here, Faust and Dante, are, in fact, each a series of tone poems. The Faust, conducted by Solti with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and Chorus and Siegfried Jerulsalem, tenor, is big and bold. It is not so subtly impressionistic as Beecham's account (EMI), but it catches the multilayered drama of the protagonist, Dr. Faustus, who sells his soul to the devil; the passion and purity of his love interest, Gretchen; and the turbulence of the devil, Mephistopheles. The digital sound from 1986 is among the best on the disc for the work, full and robust, not entirely well imaged in terms of depth but convincingly dynamic.

Sir Georg Solti

The Dante Symphony is more problematic. In it, Liszt tries to create a musical picture of Dante's Divine Comedy, representing the "Inferno" and "Purgatory" sections but without "Paradise." Liszt was talked out of trying to do "Paradise" by no less an authority than Richard Wagner. Too bad. It might have been fun to hear what the master tone painter could have done with it. Instead, Liszt ends "Purgatorio" with just a hint of things to come, a brief vision of heaven. Then, the Decca engineers provide us a loud, boisterous alternative ending that folks persuaded Liszt to add later on. If it had been left to me, I would not have included it. In any case, Jesus Lopez-Cobos leads a fairly routine performance of the work, which is not helped by the sometimes fierce 1981 early digital sound.



Then, Decca filled out the two-disc set with two more tone poems, the popular Les Preludes and the Prometheus. I suspect Les Preludes is Liszt's best-known orchestral work, thanks largely to the old "Flash Gordon" serials of the Thirties and Forties, which borrowed extensively from the score. Solti's interpretation of it is among the finest on the market in terms of sheer excitement, so it's good to have that alone. The sound of these two final tone poems comes in analogue from 1977 and holds up well, although here the imaging tends to be compartmentalized to a greater degree than the others. Whatever, I thoroughly enjoyed most of the set.



JJP



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

Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsodies (CD review)

Also, Les Preludes; Mazeppa; Battle of the Huns; Mephisto Waltz No. 1. Hermann Scherchen, Vienna State Opera Orchestra. Westminster Legacy 289 471 237-2 (2-disc set).



For those of you old enough to remember the original Westminster label, it was one of the most "major" of the minor record companies and produced classical LPs from the early Fifties to the mid Sixties. At various times ABC, MCA, and most recently DG owned or distributed the recordings themselves, and one could also often find them under the "Music Guild" appellation. Anyway, in the early 2000's they began reappearing again on the original Westminster label, and I found a few of their reissues quite welcome, like this one.



Hermann Scherchen, one of the old Westminster company's biggest stars, conducts the present release, and it features Westminster's famous "natural balance" sound. Scherchen (1881-1966) could hold his own with any modern interpreter, and given the age of the recordings, 1958-1960, they, too, sound remarkably good. Here, Scherchen is leading the Vienna State Opera Orchestra, which included mainly members of the Vienna Philharmonic, so there's not a lot of doubt about the quality of the music making, even though the Opera Orchestra doesn't sound as luxuriously polished as the Philharmonic, and intonation doesn't appear as solid. Who knows.

Hermann Scherchen

While Scherchen could occasionally be overly enthusiastic in his conducting, even leaning to eccentricity at times, here he eschews too much bombast, something these Liszt works can easily succumb to, the conductor handling some of the showier sections with a pleasing refinement and nuance. The Rhapsodies, which appear to be mainly Liszt's own orchestrations of his piano works rather than some of the more popular reworkings, don't always come off as glamorously or dynamically as, say, Dorati's (Mercury), Boskovsky's (EMI), or Stokowski's (JVC or RCA), but Scherchen skillfully manages each piece, providing them with plenty of reserved flair and inner feeling. OK, to be fair, maybe he's too cultured in these pieces for some tastes, but, whatever.



Les Preludes, Mazeppa, and the Battle of the Huns on the other hand, sound as powerful as they come, so I suppose that makes up for a little less drama earlier. Then, oddly, the Mephisto Waltz appears to drag a bit. Go figure. What's important is that each listener will have his or her own personal likes and dislikes.



The remastered sound from 2001, using a process called "Original Image-Bit Processing," is fine and captures the natural quality of the music making. There is, however, a fair degree of background noise on some of the 1958 recordings, especially, tape hiss and miscellaneous soft thumps and gurgles. It's not enough of a distraction to put one off the music, but it is present, nonetheless, so I thought I'd mention it. Otherwise, the sound is very slightly soft and a tad rough, but it is extremely well imaged left to right, with a reasonable amount of detail and orchestral depth. Offered at a low price, this two-disc set seems a safe bet for the Liszt lover.



JJP



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

Rhapsodies: Music of Liszt, Enesco, and Smetana (XRCD/24 review)

Leopold Stokowski, RCA Victor Symphony Orchestra. JVC JM-XR24019. 



Many years ago I fell in love with Stokowski's vinyl recording of Smetana's "The Moldau" from Ma Vlast. RCA recorded it in 1960, and although I didn't get to know it until the late Sixties, I had forgotten it even existed until it showed up in RCA's "Living Stereo" line of CDs some thirty years later. In fact, I probably walked by the disc a half dozen times in my neighborhood record store before picking it up and noticing that "The Moldau" was even on it. What a revelation it was at the time. Not only is it still the finest "Moldau" I've ever heard, but Smetana's Bartered Bride Overture and the Hungarian and Roumanian Rhapsodies by Liszt and Enesco that accompany it are red-blooded, exciting, romantic, and heart-wrenchingly beautiful by turns. Then, when JVC (Victor Company of Japan) remastered it in their XRCD/24 line of audiophile discs, it was icing on the cake.



Of course, one has to understand that Stokowski took his usual liberties with the scores, pulling and shaping them to his own sometimes eccentric tastes. Purists might take one listen to the various pauses, tempo changes, and dynamic contrasts and begin tearing their hair out. But this was Stokowski; he was his own man to a fault. Yet none of the music on this disc sounds in any way distorted or wrong. Indeed, to my ears, having heard it for so long and then living with it again on the RCA CD reissue, it sounds entirely "right." Stokowski takes the "Moldau," for instance, at a relaxed yet enlivening pace, and while it may not perfectly capture the ebb and flow of the river it describes, it does communicate first and foremost a peaceful ease and then a rapture that transports the listener to an altogether different world than the mere living room. Isn't that what great music is all about?

Leopold Stokowski

Anyway, the occasion for this review is JVC's 2004 remastering of the disc in their XRCD/24 series of audiophile discs. They are expensive, and they offer short measure for the money, but they are unquestionably fine transfers. On RCA's "Living Stereo," the sound came up quite well, with a good stereo spread and a realistic orchestral depth. The top end appeared to me a mite suppressed, perhaps to reduce tape hiss, cutting off some of the music's ambient glow, but I found the effect an acceptable compromise. The JVC disc improves marginally on this situation, but there is a minor rub in my comparison. Since first buying the RCA on silver, I found it on a specially produced RCA gold disc, which was, to my ears, very slightly smoother than the RCA silver disc (and whether it was because of the gold plating or because of more-careful remastering is another question). So I made my comparison of the JVC XRCD to the improved RCA gold disc, and the JVC still came out on top.



The sound, always a bit warm and lush on the RCA, was even smoother in JVC's remastering, with a tad more bass presence and a fuller lower midrange. For this incremental improvement, however, one gives up the RCA's further coupling of Wagner's Tannhauser Overture and Tristan und Isolde Act III Prelude. Plus, you pay about twice the price for the JVC, if you can even find it anymore. Worth it? As always, I can't say because the sonic differences are so small, they would not be worth the money to a majority of listeners. For the connoisseur of such things, though, I'd suppose price is no object, and for me, because I consider this album one of the finest ever recorded, I'm crazy enough to spend almost anything on even presumed improvements.



Incidentally, the folks at RCA have also remastered the album in 3-channel SACD, which I haven't heard; but according to my friend John Sunier at Audiophile Audition, it sounds wider and more dimensional than the two-channel JVC XRCD product. I trust John's ear, so if you have a multichannel SACD system, that might be yet another way to go.



JJP



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

James Brawn in Recital, Volume 2 (CD review)

"The Time Traveller and His Muse." James Brawn, piano. MSR Classics MS 1502 (2-disc set).



This is by my count British concert pianist James Brawn's sixth album for MSR Classics, and in that time he has become one of my favorite classical performers. His work never fails to impress and delight me, the present collection no exception.



As I said about Mr. Brawn the first time I heard him, "He's been winning awards since he was a child, teaching, and performing (mainly in New Zealand, Australia, and England) to great acclaim, and this new recording makes one understand his appeal. He is a consummate artist."



Mr. Brawn has subtitled the album "The Time Traveller and His Muse," which is also the title of many of his concert recitals. Certainly, with this collection he is a time traveller, indeed, as the selections on the program span some four centuries, from Domenico Scarlatti to George Gershwin. Brawn has arranged the tracks chronologically as follows.



Disc One:

  1. Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in E major, K.380

  2. Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in C major, K.159 La Caccia

  3. Johann Sebastian Bach: Well-Tempered Clavier, Bk I - Prelude in C major, BWV 846

  4. Johann Sebastian Bach: Well-Tempered Clavier, Bk I - Prelude in C minor, BWV 847

  5. Johann Sebastian Bach: Well-Tempered Clavier, Bk I - Prelude in D major, BWV 850

  6. Johann Sebastian Bach: Well-Tempered Clavier, Bk I - Prelude in E-flat minor, BWV 853

  7. Johann Sebastian Bach: Well-Tempered Clavier, Bk I - Prelude in E major, BWV 854

  8. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Sonata No.11 in A major, K.331 Rondo alla Turca

  9. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Fantasia in D minor, K.397

10. Ludwig van Beethoven: Für Elise (Bagatelle in A minor)

11. Franz Schubert: Moment Musicale No. 3 in F minor, D.780

12. Franz Schubert: Impromptu No. 3 in G-flat major, D.899

13. Frederic Chopin: Prelude No. 4 in E minor, Op. 28

14. Frederic Chopin: Étude No. 12 in C minor, Op. 25 Ocean

15. Frederic Chopin: Étude No. 3 in E major, Op. 10 La Tristesse

16. Frederic Chopin: Étude No. 1 in A-flat major, Op. 25 Aeolian Harp

17. Frederic Chopin: Étude No. 5 in G-flat major, Op. 10 Black Key



Disc Two:

  1. Frederic Chopin: Prelude No. 15 in D-flat major, Op. 28 Raindrop

  2. Frederic Chopin: Prelude in C-sharp minor, Op. 45

  3. Franz Liszt: Consolation No. 3 in D-flat major, S.172

  4. Johannes Brahms: Waltz in A-flat major, Op. 39, No. 15

  5. Johannes Brahms: Intermezzo in A major, Op. 118, No. 2

  6. Edvard Grieg: Arietta in E-flat major, Op. 12, No. 1

  7. Alexander Scriabin: Étude in C-sharp minor, Op. 2, No. 1

  8. Sergei Rachmaninoff: Prelude in C-sharp minor, Op. 3, No. 2

  9. Sergei Rachmaninoff: Prelude in G-sharp minor, Op. 32, No. 12

10. Sergei Rachmaninoff: Prelude in B minor, Op. 32, No. 10

11. Sergei Rachmaninoff: Prelude in D major, Op. 23, No. 4

12. Sergei Rachmaninoff: Prelude in G major, Op. 32, No. 5

13. Sergei Prokofiev: Toccata in D minor, Op. 11

14. George Gershwin: I Got Rhythm



I continue to marvel that everything Brawn touches turns to magic. I have yet to hear him play anything I didn't like, that didn't sound just the way I imagine the composer intended yet with the added merit of Brawn's personal touch. Brawn never distorts the music and never uses it to call attention to himself and his virtuosic skills, yet he is also able to make all of it his own, reveling in every nuance of phrasing, contrast, tempo, and dynamics.



Of course, that doesn't mean listeners won't have their favorites among the selections. Mine are probably just favorite pieces of music that I took pleasure in hearing anew and so well played. For instance, while I am not the biggest fan of the Scarlattis, the father Allessandro or the son Domenico recorded here, I have to admit the two pieces he plays make a good, dashing opening for the album, with Brawn providing a healthy splash of élan.

James Brawn

Then we get five of Bach preludes, which Brawn calls "the Old Testament of keyboard repertoire." Never mind that Bach wrote them for harpsichord or clavichord because under Brawn's ever-watchful control they make beautiful pieces for the piano. The ones Brawn has chosen to play alternate between fast and slow, the juxtaposition quite flattering.



Of course, it's always fun to hear Mozart's "Rondo alla Turca," yet Brawn doesn't overplay it to show off his skills. It's just as exciting played with care for the music rather than care for the thrills alone. Brawn's sensitive handling of the Fantasia that follows is exquisite in its subtle detail.



The only piece we get from Beethoven is the little bagatelle "Fur Elise." Along with the opening movement of the "Moonlight Sonata" it may be the composer's most familiar piece of solo piano music. I doubt that anyone hasn't heard it and wouldn't recognize it, so it isn't easy to bring anything to it that pianists before Brawn haven't already done. Nevertheless, it comes off as perfectly as one could imagine, filled with nostalgic remembrances and an ever-sweet charm.



And speaking of charm, whose music was ever more charming than Schubert's? Brawn approaches it with refinement, wit, and grace.



Then disc one ends (and disc two begins) with what I found the highlights of the album: the music of Chopin: preludes and études. Brawn seems to have a natural affinity for Chopin, and the snippets he provides only whetted my appetite for more of the same. If you find the playing of Rubinstein a tad too cold or distant or Pollini a bit too quick or calculated and other noted pianists a touch too sentimental or matter-of-fact or romanticized or whatever, you might find Brawn exactly what you want. His Chopin is big when it needs to be big, extrovert when necessary, gentle, passionate, delicate, brilliant, you name it as the occasion requires. One listen to the Etude No. 3, Op. 10 or the Prelude No. 15, Op. 28, and you may find them as meltingly beautiful and as perfectly executed as I did.



And so it goes. The Liszt is heavenly; the Brahms has a genuine lilt and lyricism without appearing excessively sad or melancholy for its own sake; the Grieg and Scriabin are flowing and melodic.



Which brings us to Rachmaninoff, the great twentieth-century pianist-composer who never quite left the nineteenth century behind. Brawn shows us that despite Rachmaninoff's reputation, he incorporated any number of modern elements in his style, particularly in the five preludes presented here. In fact, they never sound overtly "Romantic," except, perhaps, in their sometimes melodramatic underpinnings. In any case, Brawn pulls them off as well as anybody, with little or no exaggeration.



The program ends with Prokofiev and Gershwin, both of them providing the kind of zingers the album needs to close strong. The Gershwin, incidentally, Brawn plays in a transcription he first heard played by Jon Kimura Parker, another of my favorite pianists.



Now, Mr. Brawn: How about an entire album of Chopin? The nocturnes would be wonderful.



Producer Jeremy Hayes and engineer Ben Connellan recorded Mr. Brawn at Potton Hall, Suffolk, United Kingdom in August and November 2014. The piano sound, as before, is clean, clear, rich, and resonant. The venue provides just enough ambient bloom to make the instrument come alive and appear lifelike. The natural warmth provides a realistic-sounding response, as though the listener were actually in the room with the piano, albeit at a moderate distance. Transient response, dynamics, and frequency balance are exemplary as well, nothing too hard, too soft, too bright, or too edgy. In other words, excellent sound.



JJP



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

Liszt: Piano Concerto No. 1 and No. 2 (CD review)

Sviatoslav Richter, piano; Kiril Kondrashin, London Symphony Orchestra. HDTT.



Very few discs can lay claim to being definitive recordings of particular classical works. Carlos Kleiber's DG rendering of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony comes to mind as definitive; maybe Reiner's Bartók Concerto for Orchestra and Pollini's Chopin Piano Concerto. And for the purposes of the present review, it's Sviatoslav Richter's 1961 LSO accounts for Philips of the two Liszt Piano Concertos, here remastered by HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers).



For over half a century Richter's recordings of the Liszt Piano Concertos have remained the benchmarks by which other recorded performances have stood or fallen; Richter's are interpretations of volatile beauty, excitement, and poetry. Yes, especially the poetry. No one quite captured the lyrical pleasures of these concertos as Richter did, all the time conveying the big moments with an equally virtuosic skill. That's not to say I've always liked Richter in everything he's done; he sometimes appeared to me a bit too cold, too distant; but here in the Liszt he captures the bravura of Liszt, the color, and the introspection.



What's more, Maestro Kiril Kondrashin matches Richter's intensity, and the London Symphony plays with consummate skill. In fact, no one involved with this project was less than excellent. The performance is a classic, to be sure.



Robert Fine and Wilma Cozart Fine of Mercury Records recorded the two concertos for Philips in 1961 on 35mm film, and HDTT transferred the music to disc from a Philips 4-track tape in 2014. The first CD version of these 1961 recordings appeared some thirty years ago in what I thought sounded like carelessly overbright transfers, with an alarmingly higher-than-usual tape hiss. Then Ms. Cozart Fine remastered them for a Philips Solo disc in 1995 and rectified most of the first CD's shortcomings. Now we have the HDTT remastering, and it's as good as or better than ever.

Sviatoslav Richter

Comparing the HDTT and Philips Solo discs side by side, I found the HDTT product overall a tad richer, warmer, and fuller, and the Philips disc a touch clearer, more transparent. At least that was my initial impression during the opening movement of the first concerto. As I kept switching back and forth between the two, however, I realized things were not quite so simple. On occasion, the Philips disc sounded warmer and the HDTT clearer. Go figure. By the time I had finished listening to the sound of both concertos, I was ready to throw up my hands in despair of picking a sonic winner. Which is probably saying a lot for the work HDTT did, given that Ms. Cozart Fine had the master tapes to play with, whereas HDTT had only the commercial tape.



Advantages and disadvantages? First and foremost, there could have been more material on the HDTT disc. The fact is, the two concertos are under twenty minutes apiece, leaving close to forty minutes of free space on the disc. The Philips Solo disc couples the concertos with Liszt's Sonata in B minor, also with Richter, making it a better bargain for its playing time and added attractions. On the other hand, the HDTT disc is easier to find (see below), while Philips, being out of business for many years, last produced their disc over two decades ago, and it may prove difficult to find new copies. Moreover, HDTT make their remastering available in a wide variety of disc formats, digital downloads, and price points, which could prove attractive to a lot of potential buyers.



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 here:

Soiree: Music of Schubert, Brahms, Debussy, and Liszt (CD review)

Susan Merdinger, piano. Sheridan Music Studio.



As you may know, pianist Susan Merdinger is a Steinway Artist, receiving her formal education at Yale University, the Yale School of Music, the Manhattan School of Music, the Westchester Conservatory of Music, and the Ecole Normale de Musique, Fontainebleau, France. Having formerly taught at Yale University, Westchester Day School, and the New Music School of Chicago, Ms. Merdinger is currently on the faculties of Summit Music Festival in New York, Burgos International Music Festival in Spain, and the Fine Arts Music Society Festival in Indiana. She is also Artistic Director of the Sheridan Music Studio in Highland Park, Illinois, a private music studio and record label. A recipient of numerous scholarships and awards, Ms. Merdinger has been performing internationally to great acclaim for several decades. On the present album, Soiree, she performs various selections from Schubert, Brahms, Debussy, and Liszt.



The first item Ms. Merdinger plays on the program is the Sonata in B major, D.575 by that most felicitous of composers, Austrian Franz Schubert (1797–1828). Although Schubert wrote it early on, in 1817, the piece didn't see publication until after his death. It's a good example of his forward-looking style, a relatively brief, happy, lyrical work, slightly predating the full blooming of the nineteenth-century Romantic movement. Although it took a while for audiences finally to hear Schubert's music, we can count it worthwhile. In this early piece there are the clear indications of lyricism, melody, harmony, and ultimate elegance that marked all of the composer's work. Ms. Merdinger plays it wonderfully well, gracing every note with care, never hurrying yet never lagging, either; never seriously clinical yet never sentimentalizing. The music has weight and substance through thoughtful nuance and obvious affection. This stands out most clearly in the Andante section, which could easily stand on its own.



Next, we have two rhapsodies by German composer Johannes Brahms (1833-1897): the Rhapsody in B minor and the Rhapsody in G minor, Nos. 1 and 2, Op. 79, written in 1879. Ms. Merdinger says in a booklet note that Brahms's music "represents a personal outpouring of religious faith, love, joy, contemplation, sadness and melancholic grief." Certainly, Ms. Merdinger's performances of the Rhapsodies bring out these qualities, with an emphasis perhaps on the combination of joy and melancholy in these extravagantly complex, richly drawn pieces.



After that, we find three works by French composer Claude Debussy (1862-1918): Pagodes, La Soiree dans Grenada ("Evening in Grenada"), and Jardins sous la Pluie ("Gardens in the Rain"). In Pagodes, Debussy strove to give the impression of an exotic location, in this case through Javanese gamelan music and a suggestion of the five-tone scale of Javanese music. La Soiree captures another exotic location, using the rhythms of the Caribbean. Jardins is fairly self-explanatory, Debussy capturing the various sounds of raindrops during a storm and its aftermath. Here, Ms. Merdinger excels in reproducing the haunting passages Debussy so carefully engineered. The composer's idea is for the listener not only to see in the mind's the images he's depicting but, more important, to feel them through the atmosphere he's creating. That's where the pianist does her job most effectively, building up the moods of the music. In La Soiree, especially, she seems to be playing two separate pianos at once, her tones are so luxuriant.



Ms. Merdinger concludes the album with two works by Hungarian composer and pianist Franz Liszt (1811-1886): the Concert Paraphrase on Verdi's "Rigoletto" and the Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12 in C-sharp minor. In these final Liszt numbers, Ms. Merdinger again demonstrates her ability to convey both raw power and emotion with subtlety and refinement. In the Verdi paraphrase we actually hear the voices of the opera, and in the Rhapsody we experience the full impact of the folk-like tunes and dances as the pianist signs off in a blaze of glory.



Ms. Merdinger is a pianist who would rather show than tell you things with her piano playing, so expect an abundantly diverse display of passion, pleasure, reflection, and beauty from her performances.



Recording engineers Tim Martyn and David Schoenberg and recording engineer, editor, and mastering engineer Ed Ingold made the recording in 2014 for Sheridan Music Studio. The piano rings out with clarity and authority. There is a mild resonance that reinforces the notion that the piano is in the room with you. Yet the modest reflections do nothing to interfere with the transparency of the piano sound. Strong dynamic contrasts and a generous decay time also help to make the recording as lifelike as possible. The sound has the kind of reach-out-and-touch-it quality I'm sure we'd all like to hear from every recording.



Ms. Merdinger has made the album available as a digital download and on a physical disc at various locations, including her own Web site: http://www.susanmerdinger.org/discography.html



JJP



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