Anne Akiko Meyers: Shining Night (CD review)

Music of Corelli, Bach, Paganini, and more. Anne Akiko Meyers, violin; Jason Vieaux, guitar; Fabio Bidini, piano. Avie AV2455.

By John J. Puccio

American concert violinist Anne Akiko Meyers has always seemed to me to produce some of the most graceful, most sensitive music in the classical world. That has never been more noticeable than in her latest album, “Shining Night.” Here’s a rundown of the contents to illustrate the point:

Arcangelo Corelli: La Folia
J.S. Bach: Air on G
Niccolo Paganini: Cantabile
Manuel Ponce: Estrellita “Little Star”
Heitor Villa-Lobos: Aria from Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5
Duke Ellington: “In My Solitude”
Astor Piazzolla: “Bordel” 1900, “Cafe” 1930, “Night-club” 1960, “Concert d’aujourd’hui”
Hugo Peretti: “Can’t Help Falling Love”
Leo Brouwer: Laude al Arbol Gigante
Morten Lauridsen: “Dirait-On” and “Sure on This Shining Night”

Ms. Meyers describes her motivation for the album coming from a conversation she had with composer Morten Lauridsen, whom she asked if he had written any duos that included the violin. He said he had written a tune describing a man going on a walk and thinking back over his life. She then says, “That inspired this collection of pieces that metaphorically begins in the morning and explores the vast musical history through Baroque, Romantic, Popular, and current genres. The common themes throughout the music reflect on one’s relationship with nature, love, and poetry. And how in dark and challenging times, kindness profoundly affects our souls and opens infinite possibilities when living our lives.”

So, she begins the program with Corelli’s La Folia, written some 400 years ago, and continues through Lauridsen’s relatively recent “Sure on This Shining Night.” Ms. Meyers does full justice to each of the pieces, from the regal elegance of Corelli to the more modern material. In fact, the Corelli becomes wonderfully vibrant in places, alternating with Meyers’s effectively contemplative interludes. The “Folio” was a popular dance of the day that followed a series of diverse variations, all of which Ms. Meyers conveys with equal ease.

The familiar “Air” from Bach’s Orchestral Suite No. 3 never sounded more beautiful, taken neither too fast nor too slow. As with most of the selections on the album, Ms. Meyers makes the music sing. It’s quite lovely, especially when she follows it up with Paganini’s equally lyrical Contabile. Jason Vieaux’s gently sympathetic guitar accompaniment adds to the sweetness of the affair.

We reach the twentieth century with the music of Gerald Ponce, his quiet Estrellita “Little Star” leading the way. It’s a romantic song reflecting the sorrow, pain, and hope of love. Ms. Meyers follows that with an ode to the moon by Villa-Lobos, all shadowy twilight and, again, her violin voices the notes as a singer might, with tenderness and understanding. The music is poignant and evocative; the playing is exquisite. Put another way, the album’s sixty-seven minutes seemed far shorter and for me could have gone on forever.

And so it goes. If you love the sound of the violin in the hands of expert technician and artisan of her trade, you can’t do much better than Anne Akiko Meyers. As I said in the beginning, her artistry is always skilled, delicate, intricate, and touching. She makes every note mean something as few musicians can. In the present album, we hear her at her best and most eloquent.

Producers David Frost and Anne Akiko Meyers and engineers Silas Brown and Sergey Parfenov recorded the music at Zipper Hall at the Colburn School in November 2021. The violin tone is luscious, clean, clear, never edgy or bright, and the guitar and piano accompaniments are moderately recessed to give proper dominance to the violin.

JJP

Paganini: Violin Concerto No. 1 (CD review)

Also, Wieniawski: Violin Concertos Nos. 1 and 2. Michael Rabin, violin; Sir Eugene Goossens and Sir Adrian Boult, conductors; Philharmonia Orchestra. EMI Japan TOCE-16323.



Good things continue to come around.



When the CD age dawned in the early Eighties, I had a long list of recordings I wanted to get on compact disc. Over the years the list shortened, and by just a few years ago it was down to only two items. Then, with my finding Michael Rabin's Paganini Violin Concerto on CD, I had completed the project.



Rabin recorded his remarkable performance of Paganini's First Violin Concerto for EMI way back in 1960 with Sir Eugene Goossens and the Philharmonia Orchestra. I didn't come to it until the late Sixties, however, by which time it had gone on to the budget label, Seraphim. The sound wasn't so hot, edgy and thin, and the vinyl was noisy. Later I managed to find it on an EMI Electrola German LP, which at least had quieter surfaces. But the recording's interpretation was the best I had ever heard, and the best I have yet to hear. In its opening movements Rabin's violin sings lyrically and melancholically and plaintively, and in the final movement it struts and dances, the cock o' the walk. Never have I heard such verve, such exceptional vibrancy and wit and energy as in Rabin's reading. Indeed, the only minor drawback for some listeners these days may be the recording's age, yet one listen and you forget it wasn't recorded yesterday.



But that's not all. I had never expected the sound to be much more than passable; it was the performance I cherished. Besides, the later recording by Itzhak Perlman, also on EMI, was sonically splendid enough if it were just sound I was after, and Hilary Hahn's newer realization on DG provides even smoother response. Imagine my surprise and delight, then, to discover that when EMI finally did transfer Rabin's performance to CD in a big, expensive multi-disc set, it sounded magnificent. In fact, in many ways it surpasses Perlman's and Hahn's renditions for sound quality.



Rabin's violin appears perhaps a touch close and its tone just a tad forward, but it is marvelously clean, transparent, and alive; and the orchestral accompaniment, while a smidgeon recessed overall is, nevertheless, nicely spacious and transparent. Moreover, there is hardly a trace of background noise unless you turn up the volume to the threshold of pain. There is also a welcome depth of image, strong dynamics, fine midrange clarity, quick transient response, good treble extension, more than adequate bass, and a mild room resonance. It's also the tiniest bit bright, but everything else is working so well, you probably won't notice.



Here's the thing, though: Because of the expense and the difficulty in locating the big six-disc EMI set of Rabin's work, I found it hard to recommend it to people. But then I discovered that EMI France had issued the piece in a two-disc set, along with Paganini's 24 Caprices and Yuhudi Menuhin doing the Second Violin Concerto. That was a better deal, but it still wasn't what I remembered from my younger, LP days, the Paganini First coupled with Wieniawski's Second Violin Concerto. Until now, when I finally realized that EMI Japan had released this single CD of the original pairing from the 1960 LP.



The coupling on the disc is almost equally distinguished as the Paganini. Polish composer and violinist Henryk Wieniawski (1835-1880) premiered his Violin Concerto No. 2 in D minor, Op. 22 in 1862, and it's been something of a staple of the violin repertoire ever since. It's never attained anything like the popularity of the Paganini, understand, but people like it pretty well in any case. It begins somewhat gloomily, turns rhapsodic and Romantic, and ends in a lively, Gypsy-like finale. Rabin applies the same exuberant spirit and clarity of line to the Wieniawski as he does in the Paganini and produces memorable results. The playing is active and lively, with wonderful control, the violin singing and weeping in remarkable accord.



Then, for extra measure the Japanese give us Wieniawski's First Violin Concerto with Rabin, but this one from 1957, conducted by Sir Adrian Boult and released by EMI in monaural. If not quite so accomplished as the preceding stereo works, the First Concerto is worth hearing, and Rabin and Boult do it justice.



Finally, how does the sound of the EMI Japan disc compare to EMI's multi-disc CD transfer and EMI France's transfer of the Paganini First? About the same, actually. In side-by-side comparisons, the Japanese disc seems a bit more open, the high end more extended, and the impact more solid. Still, it was so close I might have been momentarily delusional. Let's just say the sound in all three versions is excellent, so choice among them might go to whichever coupling one prefers and how much one wants to spend on the product, this single Japanese disc of the original pairing being my personal favorite and the least expensive of the lot. It's a terrific deal.



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





JJP

Paganini: Violin Concertos Nos. 1 and 2 (CD review)

Also, 24 Caprices; Rossini Variations; The Carnival of Venice. Michael
Rabin, Yehudi Menuhin, Frank Peter Zimmermann, and Salvatore Accardo, violin; Sir
Eugene Goossens, Alberto Erede, and Franco Tamponi, conductors; Philharmonia
Orchestra, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe.
EMI Classics (France) 7243 5 75332-2 (2-disc set).

Good things come to
those who wait. I just never expected to wait twenty years.

When the CD age
dawned in the early Eighties, I had a long list of things I wanted to get on
compact disc. Over the years the list shortened, and by just a few years ago it
was down to only two items.  Now, with
my finding the Paganini, I’ve completed the list.

Michael Rabin
recorded his remarkable performance of Paganini’s First Violin Concerto way back in 1960 with Sir Eugene Goossens and
the Philharmonia Orchestra. I didn’t come to it until the late Sixties,
however, by which time it had gone on to the budget label, Seraphim, and later
I managed to find it on an EMI Electrola German issue. The sound wasn’t so hot,
but the interpretation was the best I had ever heard, and the best I’ve yet to
hear. In its opening movements Rabin’s violin sings lyrically and
melancholically and plaintively, and in the final movement it struts and
dances, the cock o’ the walk. Never have I heard such verve, such exceptional
vibrancy and wit and energy, as in Rabin’s reading. Indeed, the only minor
drawback for some listeners may be the traditional cuts Rabin makes in the
score, but the very conciseness of the result for me works in its favor,
rendering every note all the more succulently.

But that’s not all.
I had never expected the sound to be much more than passable; it was the
performance I cherished. Besides, the later recording by Itzhak Perlman, also
on EMI, was sonically splendid enough if it were just sound I was after.
Imagine my surprise and delight to discover that this first-time transfer of
Rabin to CD also sounds magnificent. In fact, in many ways it surpasses
Perlman’s rendition. Rabin’s violin sounds perhaps a touch too close, and its
tone is just a tad bright, but it is marvelously clean and alive; and the
orchestral accompaniment, while somewhat recessed overall is, nevertheless,
highly dynamic, with plenty of low-end sock. Moreover, there is hardly a trace
of background noise you’ll notice, unless you turn up the volume to the
threshold of pain. 

All in all, this
two-disc set is worth its price for the First
Violin Concerto alone, but there is more. It’s filled out with Yehudi
Menuhin’s recording of the Second
Concerto, also from 1960, and also splendidly transferred to disc. Menuhin
hasn’t quite the zip or dash of Rabin, but the Second Concerto makes a fine companion. As does Frank Peter
Zimmermann’s playing of Paganini's 24
Caprices, recorded in 1984-85. Although you’ll find these violin studies in
bravura showmanship done equally well or better by (who else?) Rabin, available
on EMI’s Great Recordings of the Century series, who’s to argue with icing on
the cake with Zimmermann’s renditions. Finally, there are two short Paganini
pieces done by Salvatore Accardo, with Franco Tamponi and the Chamber Orchestra
of Europe backing him, recorded in 1983, and these pieces, too, are appealing
and well recorded.

Perhaps the only
snag in this affair is the fact that as of this writing only EMI Music France
has made the set available (at mid-price). But various sites on-line have it
available, like Amazon.com and TowerRecords.com. For me, it was worth every
penny of its twenty-odd-dollar asking price, and I see now that you can get it
for much less than that. Besides, who knows, maybe someday Warner Classics, the
new owners of EMI, will see fit to issue it in this country.

Oh, and that one
remaining item on my list I finally found? The Mozart “Jupiter” Symphony with Eugene Jochum and the Boston Symphony on
DG. Practically every critic in the world at the time of its mid-Seventies
release on LP recommended it, yet the folks at DG still have not released it on
CD in the U.S. Maybe they are still waiting to give it a big entrance.
Meanwhile, DG did issue the recording on CD in Germany, and, yes, I found it,
almost by accident, at a German import site. But all of this is beside the
point. The Paganini is available; think about it.

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

JJP

Paganini: Violin Concerto (CD review)

Also, Tchaikovsky: Serenade melancolique; Valse-Scherzo. Midori, violin; Leonard Slatkin, London Symphony Orchestra. Newton Classics 8802028.



You remember Midori, the young teenage violinist whose exceptional skills made such a name for her. Yeah, well, that was over two decades ago. Amazing how time flies by.  Now, Newton Classics has re-released one of the recordings that made her famous, from 1987 the Paganini Violin Concerto, and we can marvel once again at her command of the instrument. Of course, in the past twenty years about 800 other child prodigies have come and gone, and, indeed, one may wonder what's become of Midori Goto. Fortunately, her Web site (http://www.gotomidori.com) indicates she is alive and well and continues to perform up a storm all over the world.



Anyway, what we've got here is a work that matches her talents. Italian violinist, guitarist, and composer Niccolo Paganini (1782-1840) wrote his Violin Concerto No. 1 in D, Op. 6, between 1815 and 1818 (the exact date remains unclear), largely as a showpiece for his own virtuosic prowess, so it's filled with a wealth of showy details that have dazzled audiences over the years. There has been some question about the principal tonality of the piece as well as the instrumentation, the composer having apparently written the solo and orchestral parts in different keys, with varying orchestral support, resulting in what appeared to listeners of his day as musical legerdemain. Midori plays the more-commonly accepted arrangement of the work.



Leonard Slatkin and the London Symphony adopt a quick-paced gait for the introduction, all the better, perhaps, to highlight Midori's often blazing technique. Yet for all her sparkling fluency, she is a sensitive interpreter, and it is the lighter, more-lilting sections of the score that she illuminates best.  OK, so the cadenza seems to go on forever; it's a minor quibble. There is a subtle and appropriate melancholy that underlines Midori's playing of the Adagio, and the concluding Rondo has almost all the bouncy good cheer it demands.



Of the accompanying works, the booklet notes remind us that although Tchaikovsky only concerned himself with solo violin music for a short time during the 1870's, he left us with several fine examples of the genre. He wrote the Serenade melancolique in 1875 for the violinist Leopold Auer. It's a brief, slow piece that Midori plays with a passionate longing. The final work on the disc is the Valse-Scherzo, as much a showpiece as the Paganini, again demonstrating what Midori can do with a violin.



Recorded by Philips in May of 1987, the sound is nicely open and full, with a splendid ambient bloom on all the instruments. The recording tends slightly to emphasize the left and right sections of the orchestra, it's true, yet it's not enough to distract one's attention. When the violin enters, it appears properly centered, and we tend to understand why the audio engineers decided to divide the orchestra somewhat behind her. The violin itself is well balanced with the sound of the other instruments and displays a brilliant, natural shimmer. While the engineers could have captured a little more dynamic range and a deeper bass, the sound is realistic enough to please most listeners.



I have to admit I still enjoy the Paganini recordings of Michael Rabin (EMI), Itzhak Perlman (EMI), and Hilary Hahn (DG) best for their greater dash and sparkle, but there is certainly a place for this reissue of Midori's account in any fan's collection.



JJP

Paganini: Violin Concerto No. 1; Spohr: Violin Concerto No. 8 (CD review)

Hilary Hahn, violin; Oiji Oue, Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra.  DG B0007188-2.



Ms. Hahn makes much of the fact that the Paganini and Spohr Violin Concertos have qualities of bel canto in them--fine singing, beautiful voice--as well she should.  The Paganini, especially, has always been noted for its soaring lyrical elements, and Ms. Hahn makes the most of them, as advertised.  This is as sweet, as lyrical, as songlike, as expressive a Paganini Violin Concerto as one could imagine.



After the work's lengthy introduction, Ms. Hahn enters the Allegro with appropriate bravura, contrasted with a lovely, flowing second subject, taken at a tempo that emphasizes its poetic nature in opposition to the more flamboyant parts of the movement.  The middle Adagio is a poignant time-out, a reflective interlude before the zippy Rondo conclusion.  It is in this final section that Ms. Hahn's dramatic, lively, yet wholly engaging style holds one's attention most securely.  And it is here that she is able to demonstrate her most virtuosic technique.



Coupled with the Paganini is the Violin Concerto No. 8 by Paganini's direct contemporary, Louis Spohr, only two years Paganini's junior.  His Concerto, too, is one of song, but there could not be a greater contrast in showmanship.  The Paganini is all color and contrasts, glamour and high spirits; the Spohr is more sedate, more conventional, but equally attractive.



Although I still prefer Michael Rabin's 1960 and Perlman's 1971 realizations of the Paganini for their greater sparkle, there is no denying this new rendering by Hilary Hahn is one to consider.  Chalk up the excellent recording quality afforded her by DG engineers, too.  The sound is very dynamic and very well balanced, with a reasonably solid bass and decent stage depth.  Together, performance and sound make this an outstanding album.



JJP