Musa Italiana (CD review)

Music of Mendelssohn, Schubert, and Mozart. Riccardo Chailly, Filarmonica della Scala. Decca 485 2944.

By John J. Puccio

Just as a lot of Spanish-inflected music was written by French composers (Bizet, Massenet, Chabrier, etc.), so has much Italian-themed music been written by non-Italians, as in the present album of Italian-influenced music by German and Austrian composers. Perhaps it says as much as anything about the countries of Spain and Italy that they have inspired so many people outside their boundaries to write music in their style.

Whatever, it’s good to see an Italian conductor, Riccardo Chailly, and an Italian orchestra, the Filarmonica della Scala, doing music (from whatever composer) in the Italian manner. It’s also good to see Maestro Chailly doing more recordings. He’s been around a long time and has been the principal conductor of some of the world’s finest orchestras (Gewandhaus Orchestra, Concertgebouw Orchestra, Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra, and others) and is now the Music Director of La Scala. Although I would not fully agree with a 2015 Bachtrack poll in which music critics ranked Chailly as the world's best living conductor, he is certainly among the best currently working.

The program begins with the Symphony No. 4 in A, Op. 90 “Italian” (revised 1934 version) by German composer, conductor, and pianist Felix Mendelssohn. He premiered it in 1833 after a trip to Italy, but he never published it in his lifetime. Although it is numbered 4 among his five symphonies, he wrote it last. Concerning it, the composer wrote “It will be the jolliest piece I have ever done, especially the last movement.”

The first movement Allegro is among the most recognizable of all the music Mendelssohn wrote for his symphonies, a thrilling surge of undulating rhythms that can get the blood racing as well as reflect a sunny Italian mood. Chailly takes it at a zesty pace that certainly gets the adrenaline flowing, while not being too overly hectic.

The second-movement Andante con moto scholars think may have been inspired by the religious processions Mendelssohn saw on his trip to Rome. One may be perhaps slightly perplexed by this tempo indication (moderately slow yet with quick motion) for a religious procession, but Chailly does his best to combine the two contrasting possibilities into a nimble if speedy walk. After that is a delicate Minuetto, Con moto grazioso; which Chailly handles with much refined grace and spirited delight. Then the work concludes with a Saltarello. Allegro di molto (a lively Italian dance in a fast tempo) that is essentially a whirlwind of music reminiscent of the composer's Midsummer Night's Dream. Here, Chailly lets the horses loose, yet even though the revised edition adds a number of bars, it appears more animated than ever. (Though longer, it seems shorter, if you know what I mean.) In all, this is one of the most ebullient and lively interpretations of the Fourth Symphony you’ll find, if that’s what you’re looking for.

The next selections are Austrian composer Franz Schubert’s Overture in the Italian Style in D and Overture in the Italian Style in C. They come as a distinct contrast to the Mendelssohn, being more serene and sedate. Yet under Chailly’s direction, they are no less charming and contain much sparkling delight.

The program concludes with three overtures by W.A. Mozart from Mitridate, re di Ponto; Ascanio in Alba; and Lucio Silla. They are typically Mozartian, with a classical beauty and sheen. Maestro Chailly polishes them to a high luster with an energetic hand.

Producers Dominic Fyfe and John Fraser and engineer Philip Siney recorded the music at Teatro alla Scala, Milan in June 2021. The audio has a fairly narrow stereo spread set in a somewhat hollow-sounding venue. We get an abundance of hall resonance, which helps to present a reasonably realistic setting while obscuring some detail and creating a somewhat soft, rounded overall sound.

JJP

New Releases, No. 33 (CD reviews)

Prism IV: Danish String Quartet. Bach: Fugue in G minor, BWV 861; Beethoven: String Quartet No. 15 in A minor op. 132;  Mendelssohn: String Quartet No. 2 in A minor op. 13. Danish String Quartet (Frederik Øland, violin; Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen, violin; Asbjørn Nørgaard, viola; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin, cello). ECM New Series 2564.

By Karl W. Nehring

My first encounter with the late string quartets of Beethoven – which was also my first encounter with string quartets, period (I had heard the were the pinnacle of the string quartet repertoire, and figured I might as well start with the very best, right?) – was a box set of LPs by the Yale Quartet on the Vanguard label that I picked up at a discount sale price during my last term as an undergraduate student. I was, as we often said in those days, “blown away” by the music emanating from my then-new Polk Audio Monitor 10s. I was simply amazed that anyone could write music like that, music that seemed to have come from some realm beyond mere human comprehension. My respect for Beethoven, already considerable, expanded exponentially. A day or two after purchasing the set, in fact, I stayed up all night writing papers for a couple of my philosophy classes, playing the late quartets of Beethoven over and over and over again. What greater philosophical inspiration could a young man hope for, I ask you?

Over the decades since I have listened to many and owned several sets of the late quartets on CD (the Yale, Emerson, Takács, and Tokyo box sets remain on my CD rack). Now in my later years I have suddenly found myself being taught a revelatory lesson by about the late quartets by a relatively young string quartet, and I must confess that it took me until their fourth lesson to finally “get it.”

As the statement on the back cover of this and each of the three preceding volumes of their “Prism” series of ECM New Series releases has stated: “Lines of connection are drawn in the Danish String Quartet’s five Prism volumes from a Bach fugue through one of the late Beethoven quartets to the music of a subsequent composer.” Although I had listened to two of the of previous three releases from this ECM “Prism” series by the Danish String Quartet, one a few times, the other just once (and cursorily, at that, I will admit, having not quite “gotten” the first), the “line of connection” never connected with me. This time, however: POW!

For whatever reason, from the opening notes of the Bach fugue from the Well Tempered Clavier, arranged for string quartet by Emanuel Aloys Förster, I felt the spirit of the late quartets. As the young Danes moved from Bach to Beethoven, the shift of gears was nearly imperceptible. Later, as the foursome turned from Beethoven to Mendelssohn, that shift, although more perceptible, was anything but abrupt. From start to finish, Prism IV is a rewarding musical experience that truly does reveal a line though genres and generations. You don’t have to read the liner notes to appreciate that Beethoven revered and studied the music of Bach and that Mendelssohn of course studied the music of Beethoven, but the notes are informative and helpful nonetheless in filling in some of the details. The engineering is up to the usual ECM standard, rich and resonant.

Corazón: The Music of Latin America. Brouwer: Canción de cuna*; Villa-Lobos: O canto do cisne negro, W 122; Carlos Guastavino: Pampamapa; Manuel Ponce: Par ti mi corazón; Egberto Gismonti: Água e Vinho;* Ponce: Estrellita (arr. by JIJI & Jascha Heifetz); Piazzolla: Le Grand Tango; Villa-Lobos: Pequeña Suite - Melodia; Ondulando; Ponce: Sonata in G minor for violincello and piano; Piazzolla: Oblivion. John-Henry Crawford, cello; Victor Santiago Asuncion, piano; *JIJI, guitar. Orchid Classics ORC100198.

My guess would be (to be honest, I’m often wrong, but bear with me) that for many classical music fans, when they see the phrase “the music of Latin America,” the cello is not the first instrument that comes to mind. Or even the second or third, for that matter. But as fate would have it, in the summer of 2019, the young American cellist John-Henry Crawford (b. 1993) traveled to Mexico to compete in an international cello competition, won first prize, wound uo returning to Mexico many times for performances, and as he recounts, “fell in love with the music of Latin America, the culture, the history, and the Spanish language. This album takes the listener on a musical tour through Argentina, Brazil, Cuba, and Mexico… spanning over 140 years of Latin American music culture.”

From the opening measures of Leo Brouwer’s Canción de cuna, arranged here for cello and guitar, you immediately get the sense that Crawford is out to communicate, not to bedazzle. This is playing of warmth and expressiveness, not of virtuosic excess. The cello/guitar combination also works well on Egberto Gismonti’s Água e Vinho, a dreamily lyrical piece from a composer whose name I best remember from his ECM guitar album Sol Do Meio Dia back in 1978, as well as on the next piece, Manuel Ponce’s Estrellita, on which Crawford’s cello just sings a tender love song, accompanied by JIJI’s guitar.

On the remaining pieces except for one, Crawford is accompanied by Victor Santiago Asuncion on piano. The “big” piece is the Ponce Sonata in G minor. Although it is of course the most formally structured composition on the album, it does not sound out of place, as it has its passages with the same lilt and flair heard in many of the other works herein. And it would be hard to imagine an album of Latin American music that did not include music by Villa-Lobos, represented here by three melodically gifted selections that tug at the heart, or Astor Piazzolla, represented here by two selections. The first is a composition in the style that made him famous, Le Grand Tango, which sounds suitably grand even when arranged for only cello and piano, with Crawford and Asuncion both playing with passion and power for eleven soulful minutes that are a highlight of the album.

Piazzolla’s Oblivion closes the album, the mood being more moody and reflective, the tango here having more of a last dance feeling in an arrangement for 14 cellos that gives Crawford an opportunity to let his cello sing in several registers simultaneously through the miracle of digital engineering. Because I was curious about just how this track might have been recorded, I inquired of Crawford through his PR agency and received his helpful explanation: “Yes, the last track is a cello choir plus solo line that is made up of only my playing layered over itself. The pizzicato replicates the double bass, and required the cello to be scordatura, and then there are three to a part on a quartet plus the solo cello line imitating the bandoneón." (Note that “scordatura” refers to an alternate tuning.) A quick note about the engineering, then, which is by the redoubtable Adam Abeshouse, a name that seems to pop up fairly often on fine-sounding recordings, of which this is an example. For cello lovers and/or fans of Latin American music, Corazón is an easy recommendation.

Brahms: Cello Sonata No. 1 in E minor Op. 38; 7 Songs (arr. Norbert Salter [1868-1935] & David Geringas [b. 1946]); Cello Sonata No 2. in F Op. 99. Antonio Meneses, cello; Gérard Wyss, piano. AVIE AV2493.

Are you in the mood for some more music for cello and piano? If so, let’s take a trip across the Atlantic from Latin America to Germany (or, if you are really in the mood for some fun, travel, and adventure, we could always set sail across the Pacific and then hike across Asia on our way to Europe) for an encounter with the music of Johannes Brahms (1833-1897). Brahms is sometimes referred to as the third “B” of that pop-culture classical music composer trinity: Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms. Interestingly enough, all three of these musical icons composed landmark works for the cello – Bach with his suites for solo cello (I reviewed a recent recording of a couple of these here ???), Beethoven with his sonatas for cello and piano (you can see a review of a recent recording here ???), and Brahms with the two sonatas included in this new recording by the Brazilian cellist Antonio Meneses (b. 1967) and Swiss pianist Gérard Wyss (b. 1944).

These two sonatas come from different periods in Brahms’s career. He began working on Sonata No. 1 in the summer of 1862, relatively early in his career, completing what we now have as the first two movements plus an Adagio movement that may or may not have been adapted many years later into the slow movement of his Sonata No. 2. For whatever reason, he then put the piece aside for three years before writing the finale and deeming it complete in 1865 (publishing it in 1866) with only three rather than the usual four movements. The first movement, however, is quite substantial, longer than the following two movements combined. As a result, this is not a brief sonata. Moreover, that first movement is not only long (14:43 in this performance), it is a musical composition that could seemingly stand on its own as a complete piece, so eloquent and moving is it, especially as played here with such warmth of tone and fluidity of line by Meneses and Wyss. I must confess – without shame, to be honest – that while auditioning this CD for review, I often found myself returning to this movement and playing at least parts of it, especially the opening few minutes, just to enjoy the sheer beauty of the music.

Brahms did not start work on another cello sonata for another 20 years, composing it in 1886 and publishing it in 1887. This work is in the more traditional four movements, with the opening movement again being the longest, but at just over nine minutes as performed here, not as extended as in the previous sonata. One of the things that the attentive listener will notice is how skillfully Brahms writes for both the cello and the piano, giving both instruments distinctive voices. Perhaps the highlight of the piece is the second movement, marked Adagio affettuoso, music that should be able to bring consolation to the most forlorn of souls. Note the way that Brahms employs his familiar device of playing competing rhythms against each other at times to create a feeling of tension, here of course with only two instruments. Hear also how the cello plays at times very low notes, at other times very high notes – all within the same short movement.

Between the two sonatas, the disc is filled out generously (total time is 75:12) with seven songs by Brahms arranged for cello and piano. Among these seven is Wiegenlied Op 49 No. 4, better known by it popular title as the “Brahms lullaby.” These songs contain some lovely melodies, but are played here as serious music, not as pop kitsch. Something that stands out about this release is a sense of warmth, both in the playing and in the engineering. For comparative purposes, I pulled down from my CD rack a Sony recording from 1992 of the two sonatas made by Yo-Yo Ma and Emmanuel Ax. The sound seemed just a bit thinner and colder, and the playing seemed just not quite as expressive – a bit cooler, if you will. For both performance and sonics, my preference is for this new AVIE release, which is definitely a keeper.

KWN

Recent Releases, No. 30 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Tilman Sillescu: Symphony No. 1 “Nachtlichter.” Christian K. Frank, Staatskapelle Weimar. GENUIN Classics GEN 22788.

What follows is yet another example of those chance events that leads to the discovery of a composer and composition heretofore unknown that turns out to be a rewarding musical discovery. A month or so ago I was scrolling through my Twitter feed when I came across a tweet by someone who posted a photo of the cover of this CD along with a brief word of enthusiasm. Intrigued, I immediately did an online search and saw that it was a brand-new release. Acting on impulse (the cover art was irresistible!), I immediately ordered a copy. Only after placing my order did I actually audition it by streaming dribs and drabs through my phone to my Bluetooth speaker – just enough to reassure me that Nachtlichter (“nocturnal lights”) was not some awful unlistenable release that would make me immediately want to cancel my purchase. It wasn’t, so I didn’t.

While I waited for the CD to arrive, I did a little research and discovered that Tilman Sillescu (b. 1969) is a German composer of music for video games who has also composed for movies and television. Much of his music for those genres has been orchestral, so as he explains in his liner note essay. “I have wanted to compose a large orchestral work for ages, but with my time-consuming work as a soundtrack composer, I never had the time, and to be honest, leisure until now. You can certainly imagine how clear an ambitious composer’s head is in the evening when he has already spent eight hours coming up with listener-friendly game music. However, I was highly motivated to finally use my classical training and love of symphonies for something greater; and fortunately I succeeded, albeit with a lot of effort and energy. My goal for Nachtlichter was to find a simple and accessible musical language, which allows the listener to feel emotions and see images without having these images imposed on him. Music that comprises beauty, mysticism, irony and drama, and at the same time is able to stimulate the mind with its formal structure and harmonies. It has become a symphonic narration of the night with all of its fathomless beauty and wondrous, exhilarating lights and its, in part, terrifying secrets.”  

The image on the cover, with its dark forest and mysterious lights, had led my imagination to expect ethereal, hushed, mysterious music that would come shrouded in mists of mystery, but that was not to be the case; rather, what emanated from my speakers was bold and assertive – as Sillescu put it, “exhilarating lights.” Not that I am complaining, as I found the music imaginative and yes, exhilarating. And in the final moments of the first movement, and in a few places thereafter, there are some of those quieter, more mysterious passages. My only quibble is that to my mind, I would like to have heard more contrast among the movements; Sillescu has been successful in finding his musical language, but he needs to work on being able to adapt it more convincingly to various symphonic forms. There were times when it seemed, at least to these ears, that he just has a tendency to “overscore” – that the orchestration would have benefitted from being peeled backed a little. As the late Colin Chapman, the brilliant automotive designer famous for his innovative racing car designs at Lotus used to urge his engineers, “add lightness.” Still, Nachtlichter is an impressive debut from a composer that I hope will bring us some more symphonies in the future. (I’m so heartless, greedy, and relentless – I would work these poor composers to death! More, more, MORE!!) As to the rest of the production, everything is just fine. Thinking about it, not only was the composer unknown to me, but so was the orchestra, conductor, and label – but they all came together just fine. The sound can have just a slight tendency toward brightness, but nothing excessive; otherwise it is quite satisfactory. As my old friend and colleague Bill Heck and I have often discussed, it is gratifying to hear how modern recording technology has raised the overall standard; moreover, the overall standard of musicianship has improved throughout the world, with many more fine young musicians being available for orchestras to recruit into their ranks. This new release is a case in point and is well worth an audition.

Beethoven the Conquering Hero: Complete Works for Cello and Piano. CD1 12 Variations WoO on “See, the Conqu’ring Hero Comes”; Sonata No. 1 in F Op.5/1; Sonata No. 2 in G minor Op.5/2; CD2 12 Variations Op.66 on “Ein Madchen oder Weibchen”; Sonata in F Op.17; 7 Variations WoO 46 on “Bei Mannern, welche Liebe fuhlen”; CD3 Sonata No. 3 in A Op.69; Sonata No. 4 in C Op.102/1; Sonata No. 5 Op.102/2. Jennifer Kloetzel. Cello; Robert Koenig, piano. Avie AV2450.

Certainly one of the reasons that so many music lovers regard Beethoven as such a great – if not the greatest – of composers is his mastery of so many forms. His symphonies, string quartets, and piano sonatas are all generally acknowledged as some of the very finest of those respective genres. Only as a composer of opera is he seen to have fallen short, and there is often discussion of that; however, what seems often to be overlooked is how much other wonderful music he composed, and this recording presents and excellent reminder of just that. His works for cello and piano are simply delightful, spanning his career from early to fairly late, presenting a variety of moods and sonorities with just two instruments. Long ago, when I was first getting interested in classical music, I remember purchasing an LP set of this music performed by Casals and Serkin on the old Columbia Odyssey budget label, a set that I really enjoyed at the time – must have been 45 years or so ago when I was and undergrad going to school on the G.I Bill, living in a small basement apartment with my wife and out two young boys, listening to music through a pair of original Bose 901s I had bought with part of the reenlistment bonus I had received from the Army while serving in Pershing missile unit in what was then known as West Germany. Flash-forward to 2022 and here I am listening to this sparkling new three-disc set from AVIE, splendidly recorded at Skywalker Sound, which showcases committed performances by cellist Kloetzel and pianist Koenig that have reminded me once again just how musically satisfying these pieces can be. If you are not familiar with Beethoven’s music for cello and piano, you owe it to yourself to sit down and give it a good listen, and I can think of no better place to start than with this superb new release, which is excellent in every way.  

Martin Fröst: Night Passages. Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in D Minor K 32; Chick Corea: Children's Song No. 15; J.S. Bach: Jesus Bleibet Meine Freude; Henry Purcell: Music for a While (from Oedipus, Z. 583); Richard Rodgers: It Never Entered My Mind (from the musical Higher and Higher); Jean-Philippe Rameau: Air pour les Sauvages; Antonio Cesti: Intorno All' Idol Mio (from L'Orontea); Bach: 3-Part Sinfonia No. 5 in E-Flat Major BWV 791; Corea: Armando's Rhumba; Purcell: Hornpipe in E Minor; Handel: Menuet in G Minor; Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in D Minor K 1; Rameau: Musette Tendre en Rondeau; Alfvén: Vallflickans Dans; Bach: 3-Part Sinfonia No. 15 in B Minor BWV 801; Fröst: Prelude to Dorotea; Trad.: Polska From Dorotea; Rameau: Tambourin en Rondeau; Gordon Jenkins: Goodbye. Martin Fröst, clarinet; Sébastian Dubé, bass; Roland Pöntinen, piano. Sony Classics 19439917402.

I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again: oh, I’m a fool for a clarinet. I’ve played the clarinet, never worth a damn, but there’s much more than that to my deep and abiding love for the sweet sound of the “licorice stick” (a term that no doubt dates me, alas). One of my long-time musical heroes is clarinetist Richard Stoltzman (b. 1942), not only for his virtuosity on the clarinet, his being a fellow Buckeye (he earned a bachelor's degree from the Ohio State University with a double major in music and mathematics), but also for his willingness to play all kinds of music – not just classical, but jazz, “New Age,” old, new, Asian, European, American – whatever. He played it, and he played it well. I am now delighted to say that I have apparently chanced upon a new clarinet hero, the Swedish clarinetist (and conductor) Martin Fröst (b. 1951), whose new Sony release Night Passages includes music that covers a number of styles and periods all on one eclectic CD, as you can gather from the track listing above.

Before I offer an excerpt from the liner notes in which Fröst explains how the album came to be, let me explain why his explanation had a special meaning for me. My youngest daughter (now an adult with two children of her own, to date me further) has been suffering from dizziness/vertigo issues, which have become worse in the wake of her second (light) bout of COVID-19 (although fully vaccinated and cautious, she owns and manages a restaurant, with a bunch of young employees who have not always been particularly careful). For a time, it was thought she might have Mënière’s disease, which causes vertigo and is incurable. Although for now she does not seem to have Mënière’s, she still struggles with vertigo and is undergoing therapy which is itself quite physically and emotionally challenging. Based on seeing what my daughter has been going through, I have some sense of what Fröst has been struggling with as he writes: “I recorded Night Passages after my wort episode ever of Mënière’s disease. It made me rethink a lot of things. The episode ended with a severe Mënière’s attack while I was driving my car. After the car finally stopped, totally off balance, I felt, in my dizziness, it was night again. Slowly light, shapes, language emerged from this formless chaos. Memories and dreams from my childhood where I saw God in a pile of leaves. My first meeting with Miles Davis. When I played music for Paul Sacher and Hortense Anda as they danced their last dance together in Zurich. When my father cracked someone’s ribs while dancing to Swedish polskas with the ladies at our summerhouse. Or when, as a teenager, I listened to the music of Bach night after night. A while after my car accident I met up with my friends Sébastian Dubé and Roland Pöntinen who looked at the repertoire through fresh eyes and rearranged the music. Enjoy the fusion.”

I don’t think you would have to be a fool for the sound of the clarinet to enjoy what these three musicians have put together, as this album is a delight from start to finish. Jumping from Scarlatti to From Scarlatti to Chick Corea to Bach to Purcell to Purcell to Richard Rodgers – and oh, my goodness, the playing of trio on his It Never Entered My Mind truly is a perfect fusion of jazz and classical sounds. It swings, it sings, it lifts and inspires. Fröst coaxes some limpidly delicate notes from his clarinet that are simply breathtaking. Later, in Corea’s Armando’s Rhumba, he shows a more playful, boisterous side to his playing that fits this piece perfectly. The program closes with a moving performance of Goodbye by Gordon Jenkins. In the liner notes, Fröst relates how the first time he played at Carnegie Hall, there was an exhibition about Bennie Goodman, and he wound up being able to play Goodman’s actual clarinet during his performance. “I played that night on Benny’s clarinet and after the Copland Clarinet Concerto I performed Goodbye by Gordon Jenkins – that tune had been Benny’s last song at the end of his shows. Having listened to him playing it since the days of my childhood I have performed it as an encore ever since.”

The liner notes are brief reflections by Fröst about memories, dreams, and incidents in his life as well as the influence that music and musicians had on him. Although it might have been interesting to hear more about how the music was chosen, or about the other musicians, the notes are interesting in their own right. Still, it would have been nice to have some more factual information. The engineering is crisp and clear – the instruments, especially the clarinet, captured a bit close, so you can hear some breathing and key clicks, but never to the point of distraction. Highly recommended.

Mendelssohn: Violin Sonatas. Violin Sonata in in F major, MWV Q26; Violin Sonata in F minor Op 4; Violin Sonata in in F Major MWV Q7; Violin Sonata in D MWV Q18 (fragment). Alina Ibragimova, violin; Cedric Tiberghien, piano. Hyperion CDA68322.

At first glance you might well assume from the title – as did I – that this new release from Hyperion includes some, or perhaps even all, of Felix Mendelssohn’s sonatas for violin and piano. After all, most of us are probably not really all that well versed on just how many sonatas in that format he actually wrote. However, I suspect that many of you will be surprised to learn – as was I – that Mendelssohn actually only published one such sonata in his lifetime, the  Violin Sonata in F minor Op 4, which dates from 1823. And oh, by the way, he was born in 1809, which means he was all of 14 when he wrote it. (When I was 14, I composed about ten measures of music for solo clarinet. It was atonal, amusical, and abysmal. It comprised the early, middle, and late periods of my career. Sorry, music scholars, but the manuscript has been lost.) When you listen to the piece, you would never guess it was composed by someone so young; truly, it sounds like the work of a mature musical talent, which the teenaged Mendelssohn surely already was. The program opens with an unpublished sonata that he composed 15 years later. The famed violin virtuoso Yehudi Menuhin had finally published a first edition in 1953, but according to the liner notes, this version conflated the two autograph versions of the first movement and took considerable editorial liberties as well. The version performed here is from a version published in 2009 that is faithful to Mendelssohn’s original unrevised score. It is a remarkably expressive work, with an especially touching slow movement marked poco adagio. The final two works on the program date from 1820, when Mendelssohn was 11 years old; not surpisingly, they are less impressive than the two preceding works. The Violin Sonata in in F Major is in three brief movements that although quite listenable, sound a bit routine in comparison to what Mendelssohn was to conjure just a few short years later. The  final track, coming in at 7:37, actually seems more interesting, but he abandoned the Violin Sonata in D, Violin Sonata in D, so we will never know where it might have gone had he come back to it later in his career. As is the norm from Hyperion, the engineering is a bit on the warm and distant side (just a bit, mind you), just right for chamber music, and the liner notes and even the cover art are intelligent and thoughtfully chosen. If this repertoire interests you, this is a release well worth seeking out.  

Schubert: The Last Quartets. CD1 String Quartet No. 15 in G Major D.887; CD2 String Quartet No. 14 in D minor “Death and the Maiden” D.810. Aviv Quartet (Sergey Ostrovsky, violin; Philippe Villafranca, violin; Noémie Bialobroda, viola; Daniel Mitnitsky, cello). Aparte AP266.

The final two string quartets of Franz Schubert are two of the great masterpieces of chamber music. If you are relatively new to classical music, please be forewarned that these are not compositions that are going to immediately soothe your ear with pretty melodies. That is not to say that they are screechy, dissonant, atonal monstrosities; rather, that they are serious, sober, rather intense pieces that were intended for more serious listening as opposed to light entertainment. To my mind, they are like two mighty symphonies – it’s just that Schubert condensed them down to be played by two violins, viola, and cello rather than an orchestra. No. 14, “Death and the Maiden,” was written after a prolonged stay in the hospital for treatment for what was most likely syphilis (which was incurable at the time) had made Schubert aware that he most likely was not likely to have very many years left to live. As the liner notes observe, the overall mood of the piece is “dark and tragic, reflecting the composer’s despondency at that time and his struggle to come to terms with the idea of death. Unusually, all four movements are in minor keys; only two episodes are in major: the fourth variation of the second movement, and the trio of the third.” But although yes, the music is dark, its very darkness gives it a focus and intensity that the playing of the Israeli-based Aviv Quartet and the audiophile-quality sonics combine to deliver an intense musical experience that reveals the beauty of Schubert’s writing for these four instruments. Likewise in No. 15, which Schubert envisioned as something of a dress rehearsal for his final symphony. In the hands of the Aviv foursome, this mighty string quartet, whose four movements total nearly over 55 minutes in this performance, longer than many actual symphonies, truly does sound symphonic in scope and vision. It is an incredible composition that is impeccably performed and flawlessly recorded. What’s not to like?

KWN

Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto (Digital DL review)

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

By John J. Puccio

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJP

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

Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto in D Minor (CD review)

Also, Concerto for Violin, Piano and Orchestra. Solomiya Ivakhiv, violin; Antonio Pompa-Baldi, piano. Theodore Kuchar, Slovak National Symphony Orchestra. Brilliant Classics 95733.



No, not that one. This is the violin concerto Mendelssohn wrote when he was thirteen.



According to Wikipedia, "The Concerto for Violin and String Orchestra in D minor was composed by Felix Mendelssohn" around 1822. "It has three movements, Allegro–Andante–Allegro, and performance duration is approximately 22 minutes. Mendelssohn was considered by many of his time to be a prodigy comparable only to the young Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Besides being a brilliant piano virtuoso, his composition took a firm step forward in musical development. In the period when this concerto was composed, Mendelssohn composed twelve string symphonies. At the age of eleven, he had written a trio for strings, a violin and piano sonata, two piano sonatas, and the beginning of a third, three more for four hands, four for organ, three songs (lieder), and a cantata." And, of course, it would only be a few more years before he wrote the Overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream.



"Mendelssohn wrote the concerto for Eduard Rietz (eldest brother of Julius Rietz), a beloved friend and teacher." However, "nobody ever performed it in Mendelssohn's own day, and it was only in 1952 that Yehudi Menuhin exhumed and premiered it." Today, we have several recordings of it, although I doubt that any of them, including this one under review, will help usher the concerto into the basic classical repertoire. While it is certainly pleasant and has much to commend it, it never rises to the level of maturity or musical accomplishment of the more-famous Violin Concerto in E minor, which the composer premiered in 1845. Still, this recording might be worthwhile if only as a musical curiosity.

Solomiya Ivakhiv

Violinist Solomiya Ivakhiv handles the solo part with a graceful ease that well captures the youthful spirit of the work. The melodies may not be as soaring or memorable as the ones he would later write, but they are sweet and soothing, qualities Ms. Ivakhiv expounds nicely. Under the leadership of Maestro Theodore Kuchar, the Slovak National Symphony Orchestra sounds as polished as ever, and Ms. Ivakhiv is appropriately expressive, lyrical, and, in the final movement, exuberant. I've heard this concerto played by four or five different violinists over the years, and none of them impressed me as much as this one. Maybe I'm just getting used to the music, or maybe Ms. Ivakhiv has given it just the right touch of sensitivity.



The album's coupling is another early work, the Concerto for Violin, Piano and Orchestra, which Mendelssohn wrote in 1823. It received one private and one public performance but was never published in the composer's lifetime. And it, too, had to wait until the 1950's to receive a revival. Interestingly, Mendelssohn originally wrote it for only a string accompaniment but later added parts for wind and timpani, which we hear on this recording.



I could not remember having heard this duo concerto before and rather enjoyed it, perhaps more so than the early violin concerto alone. There is a grand sweep to the first movement that is invigorating, and the interplay of violin and piano is often a delight. The duo concerto is much longer than the early solo concerto, too, giving it a bit more substance and the soloists more room to maneuver. Then, too, Mendelssohn gives each of the instrumentalists little solo flights of their own from time to time, which add to the work's poignant charm. Another vivacious finale closes the show in rigorous fashion.



Producer and engineer Jaroslav Stranavsky recorded the concertos at The Fatra House of Art, Ziliny, Slovakia in November 2017. The orchestral sound is big and warm but without much depth. When the violin enters in the first concerto, it is well positioned and notably clearer, better detailed than the orchestra. As things progress, however, any minor qualms disappear, and we begin to appreciate how well the soloist and orchestra work together. The sound may be slightly soft, but it tends to fit the music in any case. In the second of the concertos, with both violin and piano, the two soloists appear a little too close for my taste and tend to dwarf the orchestra.



JJP



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

Mendelssohn: Piano Concerto No. 2 (CD review)

Also, Symphony No. 1 and The Fair Melusine overture. Kristian Bezuidenhout, piano; Pablo Heras-Casado, Freiburger Barockorchester. Harmonia Mundi HMM 902369.



Most of us are familiar with Mendelssohn's Second Piano Concerto, but I wonder how many of us can say the same of his First Symphony, the companion piece on this disc? While the composer's Third and Fourth Symphonies rightly get the lion's share of performances and recordings and his Fifth sits in the shadows, the poor First hardly gets mentioned at all. Indeed, when I thought about it, I couldn't recall ever having owned a recording of it and, worse, having only heard it maybe once in my lifetime.



Is it fair the First Symphony gets so little respect? Not really. Even though it is a relatively immature work, Mendelssohn having written it when he was only fifteen, that doesn't make it any less interesting than his overture to A Midsummer Night's Dream, written just two years later. In fact, there are already hints of the overture in the earlier symphony. But all that is beside the point, which is that South African-born pianist Kristian Bezuidenhout and conductor Pablo Heras-Casado have chosen to pair the concerto and symphony together on this Harmonia Mundi disc. Moreover, they've chosen to present the music as closely as possible to what the composer might have heard some two hundred years ago: using a fortepiano and a period-instruments band.



First up is the early piece, the Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 11, which Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) completed in 1824 and premiered publicly in 1827 with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra (an orchestra still going strong, by the way). Mendelssohn arranged it in standard symphonic form: Allegro (fast), Andante (moderately slow), Menuetto-Allegro molto (in the tempo of a minuet and then becoming increasingly faster and more lively), and ending with an Allegro con fuoco (with energy and emotion).



As is appropriate to the nature of a relatively immature work, Maestro Heras-Casado takes it at a fairly brisk, almost rambunctious pace. This is especially true of the allegro parts, which are never breakneck but certainly brisk. Tempos appear well chosen and spring to life with graceful gusto, not overwrought exertion. Throughout the score, there are hints, as I say, of A Midsummer Night's Dream and even the Scottish Symphony, something the conductor does nothing to hide or highlight. If you haven't heard it, which I hadn't in years, it's a delightful, if lightweight, piece of old-fashioned music making.

Kristian Bezuidenhout

Moreover, for those listeners worried that this is another period-instruments recording where the string players appear to be fiddling on solid steel wires and performing at such a reckless speed they're in danger of setting their instruments on fire, not to fret. The orchestra sounds smooth and sonorous, and the performance is invigorating but never breathless.



Next up is the better-known of the two works, the Piano Concerto No. 2 in D minor, Op. 40, composed in 1837, a follow-up to several other piano concertos Mendelssohn had written. Although it would never compare in popularity to his Third or Fourth Symphonies or his Midsummer music, the Concerto has its fair share of admirers, too. A long-held criticism of the concerto is that Mendelssohn didn't seem interested in making it a virtuoso affair for the pianist, so it finds itself generally eclipsed these days by the more flamboyant Romantic showpieces of Beethoven, Schumann, Liszt, Grieg, Tchaikovsky, and the rest. Still, it's a fun piece of music, and it's especially intriguing to hear Kristian Bezuidenhout play it on a vintage 1837 fortepiano (the same age as the composition) with Heras-Casado leading the Freiburger Barockorchester, also playing on historical instruments.



Despite the criticisms through the years about Mendelssohn's Second Piano Concerto not being much of a tour de force for pianists, Bezuidenhout certainly makes it seem more formidable than it probably is. His playing is elegant yet forceful, vigorous yet careful, energetic yet polished. And, needless to say, it's virtuosic, whether the composer intended it so or not. It's still a Romantic work, and Bezuidenhout plays it with a felicitously passionate vigor and reflective longing as the moods demand.



The disc ends, oddly, with the tone poem Die Schone Melusine ("The Fair Melusine"). I say oddly because as a short concert overture, one might have expected it to open the program. Nevertheless, it's a fine interpretation of the piece by Maestro Heras-Casado and company and makes a grand statement to end the show.



Artistic Director and editor Martin Sauer and engineer Tobias Lehmann, both of Teldex Studio Berlin, recorded the music at Ensemblehaus Freiburg, Germany in September 2018. The sound spreads widely across the speakers, with a lovely bloom. While it is not so closely miked that detail is all important, it is nicely realistic in a more natural sense. There is a pleasantly rich glow to the acoustic, the instruments coming together in a realistic whole. Depth perception is good; dynamics are lifelike; and the frequency responses is more than adequate.



JJP



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

Mendelssohn: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 5 (CD review)

John Eliot Gardiner, Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. DG 289 459 156 2.



There is certainly no dearth of good Mendelssohn Fourth Symphonies around, what with Abbado (DG and Decca), Blomstedt (Decca), Klemperer (EMI), Munch (RCA and JVC), Sinopoli (DG), Previn (EMI), Bernstein (Sony), and many others. But John Eliot Gardiner's disc comes with a new twist: He gives us not only the familiar original version but the revised version as well.



Apparently, German composer, pianist, conductor, and organist Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) was a compulsive tinkerer and reviser, saying to a friend, "In everything I have written down there is at least as much deleted as there is allowed to stand." A year or two after the premiere of his Fourth Symphony, he reworked the last three movements. He never got around to the first movement--he said he would have to redo everything about it--nor did he ever publish his revisions. In any event, in the Gardiner disc we now have both versions, and upon close inspection there is a myriad of detail changes in those last three movements, the most obvious on this recording being a clarifying of the orchestration to provide greater transparency of sound. 

John Eliot Gardiner

Gardiner directs the Vienna Philharmonic with verve and bounce, reminding us of his period-instrument, historically informed background, yet he imparts a characteristic grace and smoothness, too. And, needless to say, the Vienna players respond splendidly, proving once again why the VPO is among the world's greatest orchestras. The results are infectious, and the performance deserves to stand alongside the best in the catalogue.



The sound of this 1999 release, however, is another story, somewhat overwrought, too warmly reverberant to convey fully the lighter spirits of the work. In this regard, I prefer Claudio Abbado's early Decca recording best of all, especially as remastered by HDTT. In any case, those who would buy the Gardiner recording probably would do so because they like the man's work or because they want to compare Mendelssohn's two versions of the symphony.



Accompanying the Fourth Symphony is Mendelssohn's Fifth, actually the second in order of composition. It is a common companion to the Fourth on disc, and one can find both of them on Abbado's DG disc at a slightly lower cost. If the sound of the Gardiner were more transparent, I would not hesitate to recommend it as a personal first choice. As it stands, it is a fine curiosity and a worthy adjunct to other favored recordings.



JJP



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

Mendelssohn: A Midsummer Night's Dream (SACD review)

Also, Fanny Mendelssohn: Songs. Anna Lucia Richter, soprano; Barbara Kozelj, alto; Pro Musica women's choir; Ivan Fischer, Budapest Festival Orchestra. Channel Classics CCS SA 37418.



At the risk of making this review more about me than the music, let me start with a comment about myself anyway. I first started listening to recordings of Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night's Dream in the mid Sixties with Otto Klemperer's 1960 EMI LP. It was the familiar suite we hear on the present recording, and Klemperer remains my favorite. In the late Seventies Andre Previn recorded more than the suite, adding most of the interludes and connecting music. His album, also for EMI, was just as charming as Klemperer's and equally well recorded. It's still a favorite, too, and between them they have served as touchstones for the dozens of recordings of the piece I've heard since.



Which brings us (rather long-windedly) to Ivan Fischer's Channel Classics recording with his Budapest Festival Orchestra. It's as light and airy, as cheerful and delightful, as any I've heard. But even though it comes to us on a modern digital SACD, the sound doesn't have quite the clarity or balance of the old EMI (now Warner) issues. Still, it's nice to have so refreshing a new release as Fischer's.



As you probably know, German composer Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) began work on his music for William Shakespeare's comedy A Midsummer Night's Dream as a teenager, composing the Overture in 1826 when he was only seventeen. Then he stopped, completing the work some sixteen years later in 1841 while employed by the Prussian court. It was here that King Frederick William IV suggested to Mendelssohn that he compose some complete incidental music for a new production of the Shakespeare play, and Mendelssohn complied since he had already written the opening tune.

Ivan Fischer

Maestro Fischer gives us ten of the most-popular selections from Mendelssohn's incidental music, starting, of course, with that early Overture. Fischer's way with the music is gentle and affectionate, almost consistently keeping it as light and airy as it should be. Indeed, this is, overall, the best recorded performance I've yet heard from Fischer, and he has always seemed to me more than competent. In this case, he's a real contender, and his Budapest players seem to have a genuine feel for the music.



Throughout most of the other numbers, Fischer is quick and lively. This works in most cases, although his approach to the Nocturne tends to diminish some of its lyricism. Nevertheless, the sprightly vigor of the playing is a delight, and, as I say, practically everything dances along with unvarnished joy. Fischer's interpretation brings out all the humor, all the color, and all the fairy-tale qualities of the score. It's really quite charming. Oh, those "spotted snakes." Lovely.



And, no, I didn't forget the "Wedding March." Under Fischer it projects all the exuberance of the occasion. Above all, though, it's regal and elegant, things some conductors forget as they get carried away in the heat of the moment.



Accompanying the Midsummer Night music, we get three songs with orchestra composed by Fanny Mendelssohn (1805-1847), Felix's sister. Soprano Anna Lucia Richter, who sang the first fairy in the preceding Midsummer Night music, handles the solos. Because of the prevailing attitudes toward women in Fanny's day, Felix's music got all the attention. Fanny even had to publish some of her work under her brother's name. Fortunately, more of Fanny's music is coming to light these days, and we're more the better for it. Here, they are quite enchanting.



Producer Hein Dekker and recording engineers Hein Dekker and Jared Sacks recorded the music at the Palace of Arts, Budapest, Hungary in January 2015. They made the disc for hybrid multichannel and two-channel SACD and two-channel CD playback. I listened in the two-channel SACD mode.



The sound is quite nice. It's very dynamic, with a reasonably good depth of image for added realism. The stage width is not quite so wide as many competing recordings, yet it provides a lifelike perspective representing a moderate concert-hall listening distance. Ultimate definition is a tad lacking, but that, too, is not unlike what one might hear at a real concert as opposed to an entirely transparent audiophile studio effect. It's all warm and smooth and reverberant and easily listenable.



JJP



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

Mendelssohn: Symphonies Nos. 3 & 4 (CD review)

Claudio Abbado, London Symphony Orchestra. HDTT remastered.



The late Italian conductor Claudio Abbado (1933-2014) was an enormously prolific musician, recording as music director of the La Scala Opera orchestra, the London Symphony, the Chicago Symphony, the Vienna State Opera orchestra, the Lucerne Festival orchestra, the European Union Youth Orchestra, and the Berlin Philharmonic. It's a wonder he had time to breathe.



In any case, as you might guess, he recorded some material more than once as he went along, including Mendelssohn's two most-popular symphonies, Nos. 3 and 4. First he did them for Decca in 1968 and then for DG in the mid 80's, both with the London Symphony. For good measure, he did No. 4 yet again for Sony with Berlin in the mid 90's. What we have in the present disc is a recent transfer of the Decca recordings of Nos. 3 and 4 from HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers), and because I have always preferred these earlier Abbado recordings to his newer ones, I welcome the HDTT transfer wholeheartedly.



German composer Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) completed his Symphony No. 3 in A minor, Op. 56 in 1842, the last of five symphonies he wrote, despite the numbering. He called it his "Scottish" symphony because he started writing it over a dozen years earlier after a visit to Scotland. It doesn't actually sound all that Scottish, though; it's more like a brief, musical impression the composer got of the country, an impression he expanded over the years.



The music begins with a lyrical opening movement, picks up steam with an infectious Scherzo, then a liltingly graceful Adagio, and a vivacious finale. Maestro Abbado and the London Symphony add a zip and flair to the music, an energy that most other conductors only hint at. Although he doesn't exactly skip over the more-poetic aspects of the music, he tends to emphasize the sparkle and pizzazz more. Abbado's realization of the score is one that keeps the listener involved at all times.



This is not to say, however, that I favor Abbado's reading over all others. My own number-one choice continues to be an even older recording (1960) by Peter Maag, also with the LSO. Maag seems to capture the charm and delight of the music better than any conductor before or since. But not to worry: HDTT have it covered, too, with their own excellent transfer of the Maag recording.

Claudio Abbado

Mendelssohn premiered his Symphony No. 4 "Italian" in 1833 after a trip to Italy, but he never published it in his lifetime. The first movement Allegro is probably the best-recognized of all the music Mendelssohn wrote for his symphonies, filled with sunny good cheer and zest. For the second-movement Andante, music scholars think the many religious processions Mendelssohn saw in Rome may have inspired him. Then, the composer gives us a delicate minuet, followed by a conclusion of whirlwind proportions and a glitter reminiscent of A Midsummer Night's Dream.



Here, too, Abbado provides a fresh, dynamic, invigorating approach, with the conductor giving the music's more openly exciting moments perhaps a little greater weight than the more sensitive ones. In both symphonies the London Symphony plays with a uniform spontaneity and spotless ensemble.



So, would I recommend Abbado's "Italian" over all others? Again, not quite. His recording is good, but I'm happy with it as a companion, a complement, to Otto Klemperer's 1960 recording with the Philharmonia Orchestra (EMI). Klemperer takes a more leisurely approach to the score but one that to my ear captures more of the bright Italian landscape.



Decca Records producer John Mordler and engineer Kenneth Wilkinson recorded the symphonies in February 1968 at Kingsway Hall, London. HDTT transferred the music from a 15ips 2-track tape in 2017.



But here's the thing. It was just back in 2007 that the Decca folks themselves re-released the music in a 96kHz/24-bit remastering. So the question now is which to buy. On the one hand, you may find the Decca remastering very slightly clearer, better focused, but you may also find it a touch harder sounding and a bit more difficult to find as Decca have apparently removed it from the catalogue. On the other hand, you may not think the HDTT transfer sounds much different from Decca's own, and you'd be right. In a level-matched comparison using two separate machines, I could hardly tell the difference. More important, you'll find the HDTT product more readily available in a variety of formats on disc or digital download.



Anyway, the sound (be it from HDTT or Decca) is big and bold in the old Decca tradition. There's a good deal of room ambience from Kingsway Hall, which lends a note of reality to the recording. Depth perception is moderately good, and instrument detailing is fine, if a tad rounded in the spacious environment. You get imaging typical of the era, too, a tad close-up and compartmentalized, with excellent left-to-right stereo spread. It all works out and offers a fairly natural representation of a concert hall sound.



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 below:

Mendelssohn: Symphony No. 4 (CD review)

Also, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Incidental Music. Heather Harper, Janet Baker; Otto Klemperer, Philharmonia Orchestra and Chorus. EMI Classics CDM 7243 5 67038 2 7.



I love reissues. They're so easy. They take the suspense out of buying music; you know when you're buying something you like. Klemperer's Mendelssohn, for instance, recorded in 1960, is something to like.



It may seem ironic that a man with Klemperer's reputation for dealing with massive constructions in massive sound should be equally at home in music so delicate and airy as Mendelssohn's, but it's true. Klemperer could be remarkably sensitive in the music of Mendelssohn, Schubert, Schumann, Haydn, and Mozart as well as the more monumental productions of Beethoven, Bruckner, Wagner, and Mahler. The fact is, you will not find a more relaxed Mendelssohn Fourth Symphony on record than Klemperer's. The first movement is sunny and light rather than viscerally exciting. It reflects the sunny, southern Italian shores rather than the high mountains of the north. If you want excitement, stick with Abbado (HDTT, Decca, or the later DG). Klemperer's handling of the second movement flows gently along, smoothly integrating with a graceful third movement minuet. Then his fourth movement bursts forth into as joyous a finale as you will find anywhere.

Otto Klemperer

The coupling is doubly apt because never before have I heard a stronger connection between the Fourth Symphony and the Incidental Music from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Under Klemperer's direction, the tempos, the phrasing, the overall mood, are all conveyed with the same remarkable cordiality. It is as if one were a natural extension of the other, the symphony made to sound more like the fairy music of Shakespeare's creation than under any other conductor. Well, Klemperer had already had a lifetime of playing the Midsummer Night's Dream music, which he considered one of his favorite works when he recorded it here, so I suppose practice makes perfect. Only Previn's rendering, also on EMI (now Warner), is as good, with its more complete score and even smoother sound. 



The Klemperer sound, though, is vintage EMI and vintage Walter Legge, the producer who was such a stickler about everything. Sonically, there is little difference between this remastering of the Fourth Symphony on this "Klemperer Legacy" reissue and EMI's earlier mastering of several years before. It remains a tad thin and bright but exceptionally clean and clear, with excellent stage depth. The percussion, timpani, cymbals, etc., which belong at the rear at the orchestra, really are at the rear of the orchestra.



Previously, in order to get both of these Klemperer recordings, you had to pay for two separate discs. With this particular reissue, you get two great performances coupled together on a single, mid-priced release that must be counted an incomparable bargain. How I love reissues.



JJP



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

Mendelssohn: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 5 (SACD review)

Andrew Manze, NDR Radiophilharmonie. Pentatone PTC 5186 611.



The last time I heard English conductor and violinist Andrew Manze doing Mendelssohn, it was in the First and Third Symphonies, where his propensity for zippy, early music practice produced a pair of exciting but, for me, not entirely persuasive performances. Continuing his Mendelssohn series, here he and the German radio orchestra NDR Radiophilharmonie tackle the popular Fourth Symphony and the more solemn Fifth. Although the disc would not displace my own old favorites, for Mendelssohn fans it might still provide a worthwhile listen.



First up on the program is the Symphony No. 4 in A, Op. 90 "Italian," which Mendelssohn wrote after a trip to Italy and premiered 1833. The first movement Allegro is among the most recognizable of all the music Mendelssohn wrote for his symphonies. Then, music scholars think that the many religious processions Mendelssohn saw in Rome may have inspired the second-movement Andante. There follows a delicate minuet, and the work concludes with a whirlwind of music reminiscent of the composer's Midsummer Night's Dream.



Despite my initial reservations that Manze's historical-performance inclinations might lead him to tempos at a more robust gait than I like, he actually takes things at a reasonably pleasant, if sometimes exhilarating pace. With well-judged dynamic inflections and an orchestra that seems to follow his every direction, the result in the first movement is as sunny as any, if a tad dark and billowy due to the recording's pronounced ambient bloom.



Manze emphasizes the staccato motif of the second movement at perhaps a headier stride than other conductors often take, yet it seems to fit the strapping dimensions for the piece the conductor envisions. The rhapsodic elements of the third movement come to the fore under Manze, too, and he makes it a welcome contrast to the preceding parade-like passages. Then, the conductor provides a fittingly high-spirited finale that seems only mildly rushed.

Andrew Manze

Compared to the ebullient "Italian" symphony, the Fifth can appear positively grave. Interestingly, the Fifth, finished in 1830, was actually only the second symphony Mendelssohn wrote. However, the composer couldn't complete it in time for a commission and never liked it much, anyway, refusing in his lifetime to allow its publication, which didn't occur until some twenty-nine years after his death. (For those interested, the order of composition for Mendelssohn's symphonies is 1, 5, 4, 2, and 3.)



Mendelssohn's sister Fanny dubbed No. 5 in D Minor, Op. 107 the "Reformation Symphony" because its subject matter celebrated the Protestant Reformation. The composer wrote it, as I said, on commission--for some festivities in Berlin, but ill health prevented him from completing it and he finally premiered it in 1832. After a somber opening movement, the symphony moves to a much-lighter Allegro vivace and a lyrical Andante, all culminating in a finale based on Martin Luther's chorale "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott" ("A mighty fortress is our God").



Here, Manze's big-scale yet intimate-feeling approach works quite well. His "Reformation" doesn't have the ponderous dimensions that some conductors seem to impose on it. Instead, it comes out more cohesive, more of a whole, tying the opening movements more closely to the last, giving the little Allegro its sprightly due and the Andante a gentle lilt. It all builds, of course, to that final chorale, which Manze handles splendidly, building and magnifying with a dignified grandeur.



So, could I say that Manze's performance of the "Italian" symphony strikes my fancy more than several of my old favorites? Not exactly. My two favorites (among others) in the "Italian" could not be more different from one another nor more different from Manze's interpretation. They are the recordings by Claudio Abbado in his earlier Decca rendering and Otto Klemperer in his EMI reading. Both continue to strike me as having more sheer joy, zest, and charm than anybody else's. In the "Reformation," though, Manze is no doubt as good as anybody, and his realization should greatly please fans of the work.



Producers Renaud Loranger and Matthias Llkenhans and engineer Martin Lohmann recorded the symphonies in the Grober Sendesaal desNDR Landesfunkhaus in January 2016 and February 2017. They made the hybrid recording for SACD multichannel and two-channel stereo playback via an SACD player as well as two-channel stereo via a regular CD player. I listened in two-channel SACD.



The sound is much the same as Pentatone delivered for Manze's previous Mendelssohn disc, so I'll repeat what I said of it: There is a good deal of ambient reflection around the orchestra, almost too much. The reflections may sound realistic in multichannel, but in two-channel stereo they can be overmuch and somewhat obscure inner detailing. Still, it's not too distracting, and the overall sonic image is impressively dynamic. To be fair, there's enough of a lifelike quality about the sound to satisfy most listeners.



As always with these things, the Pentatone folks do up the disc with a standard SACD case, further enclosed in a light-cardboard slipcover. My bewilderment continues, though, over what purpose a slipcover actually serves, but it is a handsome packaging feature, redundant or not. I wish I could say the same for the minimalist design of the album/booklet cover.



JJP



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