Jesus Rodolfo: Remembering Russia (CD review)

Music of Prokofiev, Rachmaninov, and Stravinsky. Jesus Rodolfo, viola; Min Young Kang, piano. Pentatone PTC-5186 287.

By John J. Puccio

Critics have praised Spanish violist Jesús Rodolfo for his “passionate performances, innate musicality, and technical prowess.” The New York Times Digest describes him as "a star whose light transcends the stage." Although he has recorded several previous albums, Remembering Russia is his first for the Pentatone label.

Remembering Russia is a theme album for the pandemic age. A liner note explains that it showcases “three iconic 20th-century Russian composers: Prokofiev, Rachmaninov and Stravinsky. The pieces performed revolve around love, decency, hope and optimism prevailing against mortality, mistrust, injustice and uncertainty. Within the context of a world slowly respiring from a severe pandemic, this has become a recording about the importance of the perseverance of hope, determination, and love in the face of death and uncertainty.”

The program begins with six selections from the ballet Romeo and Juliet by Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953), arranged by Vadim Borisovsky. The romantic sections are handled in a sensitive manner by Mr. Rodolfo and his accompanist, pianist Min Young Kang. As important, the more-exciting parts of the score for Shakespeare’s play are presented with an appropriately youthful enthusiasm. And equally important as that, Rodolfo is able to coax from his violin the sounds of any number of other instruments, which in combination with the piano make for a much fuller musical experience than one might imagine. Thus, the scenes, characters, and feelings from the musical play come alive in quite magical ways.

Next we find the Sonata for cello and piano in G Minor, Op. 19 by Sergei Rachmaninov (1875-1943) in an arrangement for viola by Vadim Borisovsky. The music expresses all the expansive emotion we would expect from Rachmaninov, and Mr. Rodolfo possesses all the talent to voice these emotions. It’s a fervent yet heartfelt performance that resonates with love and compassion. Incidentally, Rachmaninov wrote the Sonata just after the success of his Second Piano Concerto, and it reflects some of the more seductively sensuous qualities as well as some of the grandeur of the larger-scale work.

The program concludes with the Suite Italienne from the one-act ballet Pulcinella (1925 version) by Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) in a transcription for viola and piano by Jesus Rodolfo. Stravinsky based his score on bits and pieces of music by the eighteenth-century composer Giambattista Pergolesi, which Rodolfo sees as “a view to the Baroque Period through the looking glass of the 20th century.” It is by turns elegant, aristocratic, playful, and, in the hands Mr. Rodolfo and Ms. Kang, wholly delightful.

Producers Jesus Rodolfo and Renaud Laranger and engineer Sean Yoo recorded the music at NV Recording Studio, New Jersey, USA in August 2020. Pentatone usually records in three, five, or six channels, but this album is in PCM two-channel stereo only and is maybe the better for it. It’s certainly clean, clear, and well defined. It’s perhaps a tad close, with the piano rather widely spaced behind the viola soloist. Still, the sound is so transparent, it hardly matters. There are no discernible distortions present: no brightness, no softness, no haze, no blur, no elevated bass or treble, no edginess, abrasiveness, or steeliness. Just a fine recording.

JJP

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

More New Releases (CD/SACD Mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Alas, my favorite public
library has been forced to close its doors again because of the coronavirus
pandemic. Sadly, it was only open for a couple more days after I had finally
been able to enter it at last and check out the new music releases that I commented
on previously for Classical Candor. (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/11/some-new-releases-cd-mini-reviews.html) Not to worry, though,
because although its doors have been closed to the public except for that one
brief interlude (or was that whole episode merely a dream?), the library has
been functioning quite efficiently on a drive-through basis. Buoyed by my
experience with discovering new releases on that one brief but magical venture
through the library door, I decided to do some searching on their website to
see what other new classical releases they might have obtained recently. I
there found some interesting items, some of which I am still in the process of
auditioning and digesting, others for which I am pleased to offer some brief
but, let’s hope, helpful commentary on below. Enjoy and stay safe, my
friends...

Johann Johannsson and
Yair Elasar Glotman: Last and First Men. (Deutsche Grammophon 4837410)
The late Johann
Johannsson composed some truly remarkable music during his relatively brief
career. Among his notable achievements were several movie soundtracks that are
enjoyable to hear even divorced from their films (e.g., his soundtrack to the
film Arrival, a stimulating sci-fi film based on an ingenious short
story by author Ted Chiang titled “The Story of Your Life”). The copy I
obtained from the library includes both the CD of the soundtrack and a Blu-ray
disc of the movie, which I have not yet watched but plan to presently. The
music is haunting, moody, sometimes spooky, with acoustic instruments, voices,
and synthesized sounds blended together to great effect. If you are already a
fan of Johannsson, you’ll want to give this new release a listen. 

MacMillan: Symphony
No. 5 “Le grand Inconnu”; The Sun Danced. Mary Bevan, soprano; Harry
Christophers, The Sixteen and the Genesis Sixteen, Britten Sinfonia. (CORO
COR16179)
Sir James MacMillan (b.
1959) has given us here two large-scale works for chorus and orchestra that are
based on religious themes. The Sun Danced (2016) was commissioned by the
Shrine of Fatima in Portugal to mark the centennial of a religious miracle,
while his Symphony No. 5, le grand Inconnu” (2019) is said by the composer to
evoke the mystery of the Holy Spirit. MacMillan explains in the liner notes
that the French phrase “Le grand Inconnu” refers to the mystery of the Holy
Spirit in a way he cannot find in the English spiritual tradition. Musically,
both pieces are expressive and colorful, showing the composer’s skill and
imagination in powerful measure. A particularly gripping effect is the quiet
breathing of the choir that opens the Symphony, a musical effect that
brings to mind the idea of “the whisperings of the Spirit.” The soprano Mary
Bevan really shines in The Sun Danced, with orchestra and chorus
providing many moments of power and light. Both pieces have an exuberance that
sweeps the listener away; indeed, one need not be religious to appreciate the power
of MacMillan’s musical vision and the glory of the musicians who bring that
vision gloriously to life.  

Mahler: Symphony No.
7. Osmo Vänskä, Minnesota Orchestra. (BIS 2386)
One of the highlights of
my musical life was attending a concert performance of the Mahler Symphony
No. 7 by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Claudio Abbado.
Given that JJP has already posted a fine in-depth review of this BIS release (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/08/mahler-symphony-no-7-sacd-review.html), I will simply second
his opinion that this is a very fine recording indeed. It is an excellent
performance featuring an especially adept interpretation of the final movement.
In addition, the sound of the orchestra has been captured with superb
engineering, making this release worthy of an enthusiastic recommendation to
all Mahler fans.    

Prokofiev: Suites
from The Gambler and The Tale of the Stone Flower. Dima Slobodeniouk, Lahti
Symphony Orchestra. (BIS 2301)
This SACD of orchestral
music by Prokofiev contains just what you would expect from orchestral suites
by the Russian master: music that is colorful, expressive, energetic, and
entertaining. Many music lovers are no doubt familiar with the colorful
orchestral suites from his ballet, Romeo and Juliet. The first suite on
this disc, Four Portraits and Denouement from “The Gambler” is derived
from an opera rather than a ballet, but the other suite is based upon his
ballet The Tale of the Stone Flower. Interestingly enough, I noted in my
listening sessions that there was some music that seemed quite parallel to some
music from Prokofiev’s ballet score for the star-crossed lovers, but it is certainly
no scandal to hear a great composer stealing from his or her own catalog,
especially when the end product is so rewardingly entertaining, as it is here.
Sandwiched between these two suites is an earlier composition by Prokofiev, his
brief but soberly expressive Autumnal Sketch. The engineering is
first-rate, which is what we have come to expect from BIS, one of the few
labels that still lists the equipment used in the production, a fun touch that
brings to mind those heady audiophile days of the 70s and 80s.

Shostakovich: Symphonies
Nos. 5 & 1. Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Orchestra (LSO Live
LSO0802)
I thought it seemed a
bit surprising to see the reverse numerical order of the symphonies in the
title of this release. Perhaps the producers figured that the 5th is the more
popular Shostakovich symphony of the two so they needed to list it first? Not a
big deal, just a bit odd, so perhaps that was the point: christen it a bit
oddly to draw some extra attention in a crowded marketplace. Whatever. A bigger
surprise awaited me when I got home, opened the cover, and realized that there
were two shiny toruses in the package, one for Symphony No. 5, the other
for -- you guessed it -- Symphony No. 1. I had assumed both works would
have fit on one SACD, but that might have been stretching it. There are no
fillers included on either disc, but given that the package sells for a
relatively modest price, value is not really an issue. Both symphonies are well
done, recorded in live performance but engineered superbly. Symphony No. 1
is played with just a bit less playfulness than I would like to hear, but is
still a delight. Similarly delightful is Noseda’s version of No. 5, an
interpretation that seems to strike a balance between hope and despair. For the
price, this 2-SACD set would be a great way for someone new to Shostakovich to
be introduced to his symphonies.

Voice of Hope: Camille Thomas, cello;
Stephane Deneve (tracks 4-6), Mathieu Herzog (tracks 1-3, 7-13). Brussels
Philharmonic. (Deutsche Grammophon 4838564)
What looks to be at
first glance just another collection of arrangements for cello of some
traditional favorites turns out to be something more complex, more focused, and
more satisfying than that. The centerpiece of this collection is not a traditional
favorite; rather, it is a new composition 
by Turkish composer Fazil Say (b. 1970) titled Concerto for Cello and
Orchestra “Never Give Up,” a quite listenable and rewarding piece of
contemporary music that fits right in with the other selections in this
release, which include impassioned performances of notable compositions such as
Ravel’s Kaddish (if you ever get the opportunity, check out the
Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra’s “Tree of Life: A Concert for Peace and
Unity,” a moving memorial concert for the victims of the tragic 2918
Pittsburgh synagogue shooting, which among other heartfelt performances
included a version of Kaddish with a clarinet taking the lead), Bruch’s Kol
Nidrei, and John Williams’s Theme from Schindler’s List. Voice of
Hope is a truly remarkable release, much more than a random collection of
arrangements for cello. Brava, Ms. Thomas!

Vasks: Viola Concerto;
String Symphony “Voices.” Maxim Rysanov, viola and conductor,
Sinfonietta Riga. (BIS 2443)
Music lovers who have
not yet discovered the entrancing music of Latvian composer Peteris Vasks (b.
1946) will find this new BIS release an excellent gateway into his musical
universe. The CD opens with the more recent of the two works on the program,
his Concerto for Viola and String Orchestra (2014-2015). Those fearful
of contemporary music need not be afraid, this is music to delight rather than
assault the ear. The opening movement in particular is breathtakingly
beautiful, so listeners are likely to be hooked from the outset (shades of the
old strategy of starting off a rock or pop album with a hit song sure to draw
listeners in). Rest assured, though, the rest of the music on the disc is up to
the same high standard of quality. The second composition is one of the first
pieces by Vasks that got me interested in his music back in the early 1990s.
His Symphony for Strings, “Voices” (1991) is more inward-focused than
the Concerto, more allusive than effusive. Again, it is a good place to
start with the music of Vasks, as it employs many of the musical devices that
he will use in subsequent works. It truly draws the listener in, giving the
mind something to turn over while enjoying the compelling sonorities. It is one
of those pieces that upon hearing, you will immediately want to hear again. All
in all, this is an excellent release, highly recommended.

Avishai Cohen: Big
Vicious. Avishai Cohen, trumpet/effects/synthesizer; Uri Ramirez, guitar;
Yonatan Albalak, guitar/bass; Aviv Cohen, drums; Ziv Ravitz, drums/live
sampling. (ECM 2680)
It is certainly not an
original thought to say that jazz is America’s classical music, but I’ll throw
it out there quickly along with another thought that certainly did not
originate with me, that jazz musicians in general tend to have a deeper
understanding of and ability to implement music theory than do classical
musicians. And if you read biographies of and interviews with prominent jazz
musicians, you might well be surprised to find out how many are fans of
classical music. In any event, Big Vicious is a delight: tuneful,
imaginative, and bold in both conception and execution. “Big Vicious” is the
name of both Cohen’s band and the album, which contains 11 compositions: nine
originals credited to Cohen or the band plus two covers, one an arrangement of
the song “Teardrop” by Massive Attack, the other an arrangement of a movement
of Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata. (“Hey hey, my my, clas-sic-al will
never die...”)

Bonus Recommendation: Self-Portrait with
Russian Piano. Wolf Wondratscheck, author; Marshall Yarbrough, translator.
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, First American Edition, 2020. ISBN
978-0-374-28049-1. It turns out that the library not only carries CDs, but they
also carry books that they are more than happy to have their patrons check out
to read. How cool is that?! Music lovers with a literary bent might enjoy this
somewhat dreamlike novel by the German author, Wolf Wondratscheck. It tells the
tale of a writer who encounters an aging Russian pianist, Suvorin, although as
the novel moves along, it can become hard to separate the fictional author from
the fictional pianist as their stories intertwine. Along the way, we are
regaled with anecdotes and observations about actual musicians such as Clara
Haskil (“Did she speak Russian? Did she speak at all?  Did her hands get cold before every appearance, too cold for
Mozart, who would then warm them for her?”), Sviatislov Richter (“Any interest
in success, in seeking admiration for his capabilities as a pianist, was
completely alien to Richter. Success was fining the trail of a discovery, the
hope of finding it. Richter would probably most preferred it if his name didn’t
appear next to the composer’s on the playbill at all.”). Glenn Gould (“Gould
was right to quit early. The guy was just thirty-two! But he had had enough
and he threw in the towel. Good kid, and he had a sense of humor, too. That he
did, you have to hand it to him.”), and Heinrich Schiff (“The worst ones, says
Schiff, are the conqueror types, who turn each game into a tournament, each
concert into a struggle—the killjoys at the conductor’s stand who wave the
queue around like a baton. How little feeling, how little sensitivity they
have.”). This novel is not the easiest to read, but it does tend to suck the reader
in, weaving quite a psychological spell throughout its relatively brief 204
pages.  

Finally, allow me to be
so bold as to recommend another jazz recording, this one also by trumpeter
Avishai Cohen. His quintet recording Into the Silence (ECM 2482) is much
different in sound and mood from Big Vicious. It is acoustic, moody,
Cohen at times muting his trumpet and exploring some deeply introspective
spaces both musically and emotionally. It is a simmeringly powerful release
that is beautifully recorded and produced.

KWN

Russian Cello Sonatas (CD review)

Rachmaninov: Sonata in G minor, Op. 19; Vocalise, Op. 34/14; Prokofiev: Sonata in C, Op. 119. Hee-Young Lim, cello; Nathalia Milstein, piano. Sony Classical S807497C (80358118497).

By Karl W. Nehring



One of the fascinating features of classical music is how international it has become. Although long dominated by Europeans, Western classical music has spread around the globe in terms of both composers and performers. As evidence of that internationalization, what we have here is a recording of music by a pair of Russian composers performed by a Korean cellist who trained in the USA, Germany, and France (and is now a Professor of Cello at the Beijing Central Conservatory) and a French pianist who trained in Switzerland and Germany. Adding to the international flair of this release, the liner booklet (itself printed in Korea, the recording sessions having taken place in Germany) displays the first Sony recording by Ms. Lim -- French cello concertos in conjunction with the London Symphony Orchestra led by an American conductor who was born in Japan and is music director of the Mexico City Philharmonic. "Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of music…"



I don't think I would be offending anyone by remarking that Russian music tends to be colorful and imbued with passion. Examples that quickly spring to mind are the symphonies of Tchaikovsky, the tone poems of Rismsky-Korsoakov, and the ballets of Stravinsky. Or perhaps we might think of Rachmaninov's Piano Concertos Nos. 2 and 3 or Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet. These examples are all large-scale symphonic efforts, but what we have here in this recording are much smaller-scale compositions that are nonetheless colorful and passionate.



The cello is an instrument with great expressive potential, as is, of course, the piano (technically a percussion instrument but capable of profoundly lyrical expression), and both Rachmaninov and Prokofiev are true masters of emotion in music. Cellist Hee-Young Lim (b. 1987) says of the program she has chosen for this recording, "I love how each one of these pieces shows a sense of resilience and unapologetically commits to owning this."



The emotional dimension of this repertoire is evident from the opening measures of the Cello Sonata in g minor by Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943), which the composer wrote in 1901 after successfully recovering from the creative depression he had suffered in the wake of the unsuccessful debut of his Piano Concerto No. 1. That same year, he also completed his most popular work, the Piano Concerto No. 2. Perhaps it should come as no surprise, then, that a striking characteristic of the sonata is the prominence given to the piano. Lim recalls that her interest in the piece "came late in my studies because I always thought that, despite the beautiful melodies, it was the 'Fifth Piano Concerto' accompanied by the cello. I wished we had as many notes as the piano had! However, I now truly enjoy playing this sonata, which represents great chamber music by Rachmaninov."

Hee-Young Lim and Nathalia Milstein

Indeed, pianist Nathalia Milstein (b. 1995) from the outset plays much more than a mere supporting role. The opening is slow but dramatic, the piano playing expressive, soon joined by the cello with a truly singing quality. I scrawled in my listening notes for this first movement "piano plays lots of notes… singing quality to cello… really does sound at times like a piano concerto… but that's OK, beautiful music for both players." The second movement has a more agitated mood, often underpinned by a galloping sound from the piano. The cello sounds calmer, but overall there is still a sense of motion. A lyrical interlude led by the cello is followed by a climax about four minutes in. The music then reverts to the agitated feeling of the opening, with the piano taking much of the lead and the cello singing along. As you might expect, the following third movement opens more softly and reflectively, with the piano in the lead, followed by the cello echoing the same melody. As the movement continues, there is more soloing by the piano. Toward the end of this short movement, there is an intense passage with both instruments singing away, but then the intensity diminishes as the movement ends quietly, the last note on the cello lingering in the air. The fourth and final movement parallels the opening movement in its scope and intensity. Once again, the piano is assigned a prominent role while the cello plays lyrically and lovingly. The overall impression made by this sonata can be characterized as sounding something like a piano concerto for reduced forces, or better yet, just simply acknowledge it as a truly grand sonata for cello and piano. In any event, it is a beautifully dramatic composition that is played for all it is worth by these two remarkable musicians.



Although the Cello Sonata in C of 1948 by Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1963) is smaller in scale than the Rachmaninov (on this recording, the former's three movements are timed at 11:30, 5:03, and 8:47  while the latter's four movements are timed at 13:03, 6:40, 6:05, and 11:11), it packs no less a musical and emotional wallop. Cellist Lim remarks of this sonata that "it has greater range for the cello [compared to the Rachmaninov], with more technical variety. I like the fact that it has a lot of fantasy, like a fairy tale. I feel I'm telling a story."



The opening movement begins with the cello playing in its lower registers, soon joined by the piano, this time playing more percussively than in the Rachmaninov. Moving on, the cello introduces a different theme in a higher register, followed by some plucking accompaniment as the piano takes over the lead for a spell. At about four minutes in, there is a more agitated new melody, followed by some more lyrical lines. As the movement comes to its close, the cello engages in some highly energetic "fiddling," but the movement ends quietly. The second movement at times seems to have the rhythmic feel of a children's song, but its most striking feature -- at least to these ears -- is the incorporation of a musical phrase that sounds for all the world as though Prokofiev lifted it from the American minstrel song, "Dixie." Although it does not play a major role in the movement, to hear a musical phrase from "Dixie" in the midst of a Russian cello sonata is quite an ear-opening experience. The third and final movement begins with plenty of gusto, fast and driving, with plenty of energy from both players. There is a transition to a slower melody about halfway through, but then it is back to increased energy as the sonata heads down the home stretch. Brava! This is a truly engaging piece of music that I wish I had discovered long ago.



The final piece is one that I – and doubtless many other music lovers -- did in fact discover many years ago (although probably not in this particular arrangement), Rachmaninov's Vocalise, originally scored for soprano and orchestra.  Lim writes of this piece, "given that it's a song without words, it's an ideal piece for cello, as the cello is so similar to the human voice. I feel somehow deeply linked to this song, I love its emotional intimacy and passion." To their great credit, Lim and Milstein let Rachmaniov's music speak for itself. There is no sense of exaggerated emotionalism or expressive overload in their playing. This music is expressive as written and does not need extra secret sauce to be poured on by the performers. The end result of their relatively straightforward but nonetheless committed approach is enjoyable and moving. Although this arrangement makes me realize that I would prefer to hear the orchestral version instead (there is a sonically resplendent version sung by Syliva McNair with David Zinman conducting the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra on a vintage Telarc CD that also includes a terrific rendition of his Symphony No. 2), that by no means diminishes the pleasure to be found in this scaled-down version, which also sings straight from and to the heart.



For chamber music fans who love melody and emotional depth, I highly recommend this release. And for those just discovering classical music who have not yet delved into the chamber music repertoire, this well-produced and well-engineered release would make an excellent introduction.



KWN



To listen to an excerpt from this album, click below:

 

Prokofiev: Symphony No. 5 (CD review)

Also, The Year 1941 (Symphonic Suite). Theodore Kuchar, National Symphony Orchestra of Ukraine. Naxos 8.553056.



Here is another of those Naxos releases that is worth more than every penny of its modest price. In fact, this disc might serve as an example to other record companies for its recommendable performance, good sound, and generous playing time. Of course, I should remind readers that Naxos released the disc some twenty-five years ago, when costs were lowers. But it remains a good example of the quality work the record company produces for still reasonable prices.



Next to Prokofiev's First Symphony, the Fifth probably ranks as the composer's second most-popular symphony, so there is already some healthy competition in the marketplace. Yet this medium-priced entry holds its own; it never flags and seldom settles into the routine. Conductor Theodore Kuchar keeps Prokofiev's imposing vision moving along with a finely tuned strength and insight, but never overwhelmingly so, and the National Symphony of Ukraine play with a polished professionalism.

Theodore Kuchar

Maestro Kuchar's direction might most favorably be compared to Previn's (Philips) in its combination of smoothness, stateliness, cheerfulness, and tranquility. Not quite so glamorous as Karajan's (DG), perhaps, but atmospheric and responsive. What's more, Naxos have coupled it with Prokofiev's symphonic suite The Year 1941, which Kuchar also brings off well.



Producers Alexander Hornastai and George Orobynsky and engineer Leonid Blychynsky recorded the music at the Concert Hall of Ukrainian Radio, Kiev in February 1995. As an added element of value, the sound is more than acceptable. There is not the surpassing transparency one finds in some audiophile discs, but the whole affair does transport us a step closer to the concert hall than most other recordings do. The engineers miked the orchestra at a moderate distance, providing cohesion, ambient bloom, and a fairly good degree of depth, while seldom highlighting or sectioning off portions of the ensemble. The frequency balance is natural and the range extended.



As with so many Naxos recordings, the sound is tailored for its reproduction of a real concert hall. It's like what the late J. Gordon Holt said in his Stereophile magazine over fifty years ago: If you never listen to music live and unamplified, how can you make a judgment about its hi-fi reproduction? So, what is one's basis for comparison, anyway, if not live, unamplified music? You'll say I'm digressing. Nevertheless, I want to point out that this Naxos recording makes a fine basis for comparison, for judging the quality of a hi-fi system. Sit in a concert hall, ten to twenty rows back, listen, and then come home and compare. Kuchar's Prokofiev comes close, at least on my system.



JJP



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

Tales from the East (CD review)

Music of Rimsky-Korsakov, Borodin, Prokofiev, and Stravinsky. EStrella Piano Duo. Sheridan Music Studio.



Svetlana Belsky and Elena Doubovitskaya are superb pianists on their own; together as the EStrella

Piano Duo, they are doubly superb.



On this, their debut album, they play music by Russian composers who were inspired by the styles of the Middle East. Here's a rundown on the program:



Stravinsky: Three Movements from Petrushka:

1. Dance Russe

2. Chez Petrouchka

3. La Semaine Grasse

4. Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade: "Festival in Bagdad"

Borodin: Prince Igor, "Polovetsian Dances":

5. Andantino

6. Allegro Vivo

7. Allegro

8. Presto

9. Prokofiev: Suite-Fantasy on Cinderella



As these are all familiar orchestral pieces, it would be easy to claim the major attraction of these newly recorded works is the EStrella Duo performing them in arrangements for two pianos. But such is not entirely the case. They are more than a novelty. The pianists are consummate artists who together bring new pleasures and new insights to much traveled roads. These are, for all intents and purposes, new pieces of music, not merely new arrangements.



The first set of selections is from Igor Stravinsky's ballet Petrushka, arranged for two pianos by V. Babin. The "Russian Dance" is a good curtain raiser, a good overture to begin the program that follows. It is zesty and robust, and the two pianists play it with an easy yet virtuosic élan.



At first, I thought I'd try to distinguish the styles of the two performers, but it was a hopeless cause. They both play with such acumen, their agility on the piano so keen, I'm sure they could have at any time reversed pianos and parts, and I would never have known.

EStrella Piano Duo

Next we get the "Festival in Bagdad" from Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov's exotic suite Scheherazade, arranged for two pianos by M. Zelenaia and EStrella. Now, this was most interesting. It's such a well-known piece, I was afraid I was going to want to head straightaway to the orchestral version. Instead, I wanted to hear more of the full suite from EStrella. Maybe they'll consider it for their next album. As much as I enjoyed the selection of tunes they offer here, a single, complete work would have perhaps been just as good or better.



After that we find the "Polovetsian Dances" from Alexander Borodin's Prince Igor, arranged for two pianos by V. Babin and E. Doubouvitskaya. From the fiery excitement of Rimsky-Korsakov's "Festival in Bagdad" to the lovely opening melody of the "Polovetsian Dances" makes a starling and satisfying transition in the proceedings, at least until Borodin himself transitions into the livelier sections. Again, the two pianists play with electric precision, all the while capturing the mystery and exoticism of the score. The magical gymnastics of their playing make the EStrella Duo a captivating set of performers.



The program concludes with Sergei Prokofiev's Fantasy-Suite from the ballet Cinderella, arranged for two pianos by A. Gottlieb and E. Doubovitskaya. It's the longest item on the menu, and it's the most modern. It doesn't daunt the two performers in the least, and the duo's sensitive performances should keep most listeners wanting to come back for more.



Producer Susan Merdinger and engineer Victor LeJeune recorded the music at PianoForte Chicago Studios in August 2018. The sound is very clean and very dynamic. The miking is not unreasonably close up, so it resonates with some natural studio bloom. The two instruments are clearly delineated, the separation not too obvious but certainly realistic.



JJP



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

Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet, excerpts (CD Review)

Also, Symphony No. 6. Charles Dutoit, NHK Symphony Orchestra. Decca 458 190-2.



First, a few notes of clarification. After Universal's acquisition of PolyGram, the English and American Decca labels were no longer in conflict. Thus, Decca no longer had to market its product in America under the alternative London title to avoid conflict with the unrelated American Decca label. As of the late Nineties, London Records was no more. Hello, Decca.



This no doubt sent shock waves through the audiophile community, which for the previous half century had sworn that original English Deccas sounded superior to the lowly London products sent to America. Just an observation from decades ago.



Next, Charles Dutoit was for a long time the Music Director of the Montreal Symphony Orchestra, then became the Principal Conductor of Japan's NHK Symphony Orchestra and England's Royal Philharmonic, facts that only struck me a few minutes into the Romeo and Juliet excerpts reviewed here. Something was not right, I said to myself. Then I looked at the jewel box. Part of my concern was related to the orchestra itself not sounding right, not as well upholstered, velvety, or smooth as the Montreal group, and part to the different venue, Tokyo in the Romeo and Juliet, Vienna in the Sixth Symphony. From this first issue with the NHK Symphony in 1999, I can't say I liked the new orchestra or the new sound very much.

Charles Dutoit

The ballet highlights sound, frankly, nondescript. They aren't completely bland, but they have relatively little color or character to them. After such noteworthy interpretations as those from Previn, Maazel, and Leinsdorf, as well as from Dutoit himself in a previous Decca recording with Montreal, these NHK readings seem almost lifeless.



The Symphony No. 6, on the other hand, appears more creatively performed, the bizarre workings of this Romeo and Juliet-cum-Shostakovich piece more vividly contrasted than the excerpts are. The symphony's opening Allegro brings mainly gloom, apparently symbolizing the Russian suffering in the Second World War. The middle movement, a broad Largo, begins in the same mood and then unexpectedly changes to one of mellowness, grace, and then perhaps sweet regret. The final section of this three-movement symphony Prokofiev marked Vivace, and it is, indeed, quick and lively. Its neoclassical exuberance may reflect an expression of relief at War's end, but this portion nevertheless concludes ambiguously. Dutoit succeeds in exacting significance from each passage.



The Decca sonics for the two pieces do not impress one as vividly as did the sound of the old Montreal recordings I was used to. The Romeo and Juliet, which Decca recorded in Japan, appears dark in the midrange, bright and edgy in the highs, and one-dimensional overall. The Symphony, recorded in Austria, seems a tad better. It sounds more flowing  and has better depth. Neither, though, can match the flattering ambiance Dutoit had always received in his Canadian location.



As a sonic reality check, I suggest a comparison of the sound of Dutoit's digital release to that of the simultaneously reissued, forty-year-older Arthur Fiedler recording, "Pops Stoppers," on RCA Living Stereo. Different material but different sonics, too. And no contest. The older disc wins hands down.



JJP



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

Rachmaninov: Piano Concerto No. 2 (SACD review)

Also, Prokofiev: Piano Concerto No. 2. Denis Matsuev, piano; Valery Gergiev, Mariinsky Orchestra. Mariinsky Label SACD MAR0599.



The good news is that Russian pianist Denis Matsuev, Russian conductor Valery Gergiev, and the Russian Mariinsky Orchestra (formerly the Kirov Orchestra) put in good, red-blooded Russian performances of good, red-blooded Russian music.



The bad news (for me) is that the Mariinsky Label recorded the music live, which I almost never find as natural sounding as music recorded without an audience where the engineers are free to place their microphones in the most ideal spots for realistic playback in the home. Of course, I understand the need for most orchestras these days to record live, what with the high cost of studio recordings. In essence, the record companies let the audience subsidize the expense. But I also understand that many conductors simply prefer to record live, feeling it best captures the feeling and spirit of the moment. Whatever, I lament the passing of really good studio jobs.



Denis Matsuev came to prominence when at an early age he won the eleventh International Tchaikovsky Competition in Moscow, a competition that began in 1958 and has been held every four years since. This competition has produced quite a few prominent winners, beginning with the first winner, American Van Cliburn, and continuing with Vladimir Ashkenazy, John Ogdon, John Lill, Andrei Gavrilov, Mikhail Pletnev, Barry Douglas, Daniil Trifonov, and many more. Matsuev's win in 1998 lead to a successful career in concert halls around the world.



Russian composer Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943) premiered his Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18 in 1901 after he had undergone hypnotherapy. The failure of his First Symphony apparently so disturbed him that he feared he'd never write another note of music, so he decided he'd try anything. The hypnotherapy seemed to do the trick as the Concerto No. 2 became an immediate success.



Matsuev and Gergiev handle the opening movement in appropriately weighty, vociferous style, perhaps emphasizing the big emotional outbursts over the more sweepingly lyrical, rhapsodic ones. In the serene second movement, Matsuev and company tend to rush headlong with seemingly little interest in conveying any dreamlike qualities. Certainly, the pianist displays a great deal of virtuosity, but it's sometimes at the expense of the music's feeling. Then comes that glorious finale, where Rachmaninov reintroduces the familiar themes he played with in the previous two movements. Here, Matsuev's tendency toward skillful technique over delicate sensitivity pays off, and he and his fellow musicians provide an appealingly brawny conclusion to the work.

Dennis Matsuev

For a coupling, Matsuev (or Gergiev or the producer or whomever) chose the Piano Concerto No. 2 by Rachmaninov's fellow Russian contemporary, composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953). Although Prokofiev completed the score in 1913, it was lost in the Russian Revolution, and he had to rewrite it in 1923. When he finished it (again), he claimed it was "so completely rewritten that it might almost be considered No. 4." At its premiere in 1924, some audience members loved it, while others found it too raucous, too grating, too modern. "The cats on the roof make better music!" said one concertgoer.



Whatever audiences thought about the piece almost a hundred years ago, today's audiences have pretty much come to accept the music as a piece of the standard classical repertoire. Moreover, the music seems to fit Matsuev's style of playing even more than the Rachmaninov. The pianist gets plenty of chances to show off his immense talents, and he can be dazzling (that little second-movement Scherzo is a blast, and the sardonic Intermezzo comes off splendidly). It's a solid, sensible approach all the way around, with no cats on the roof.



Producer, engineer, and editor Vladimir Ryabenko recorded the concertos live at the Concert Hall of the Mariinsky Theatre, St. Petersburg, Russia in June 2016. He did so in DSD (Direct Stream Digital) for playback in hybrid SACD (Super Audio Compact Disc) multichannel and two-channel stereo. As usual, I listened in two-channel SACD.



As we might expect from a live recording, it sounds fairly close up, and the orchestra players seem all on the same plane (with little dimensionality). The piano sounds good, though, rich and warm, if a little too wide across the stage. Unfortunately, the orchestral forces tend to fog over a bit and appear both congested and constricted in louder passages. I'm not sure if listening in multichannel rather than two-channel would help rectify this situation. Nevertheless, the bulk of the audio is fine, with decent dynamics and a reasonably extended frequency response.



Oh, and for those of you worried about audience noise at this live recording, there is none. Backgrounds are dead quiet, and the engineer has thankfully edited out any obtrusive applause.



JJP



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

Antal Dorati Conducts Albeniz, Kodaly & Prokofiev (CD review)

Antal Dorati, Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, London Symphony Orchestra. HDTT remastered.



If you're an audiophile, I don't need to tell you that a lot of folks have prized the mid 1950's to early 1960's recordings from RCA "Living Stereo" and Mercury "Living Presence" as collector's items. So it's always a pleasure to hear another of the latter recordings from this era remastered by HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers), this time with Antal Dorati and the Minneapolis Symphony from 1956-57 and the London Symphony from 1957.



First up are five of the twelve piano "impressions" from Iberia by Spanish composer and pianist Isaac Albeniz (1860–1909), orchestrated by E. Fernandez Arbos. Color and atmosphere fill the music, and those are things Hungarian-born conductor Dorati (1906-1988) did exceptionally well. This is important because Arbos's orchestration is lush and varied, and Dorati does it justice throughout all the sections.



Next is the Hary Janos Suite by Hungarian composer Zoltan Kodaly (1882–1967). Kodaly extracted the orchestral suite from his comic opera of the same name, which he prefaced saying, "Hary is a peasant, a veteran soldier who day after day sits at the tavern spinning yarns about his heroic exploits. The stories released by his imagination are an inextricable mixture of realism and naivety, of comic humour and pathos." The music begins with an orchestral "sneeze," and from there it gets even more picturesque as it goes along. Dorati gives the piece a fine combination of vigor and excitement, and the Minneapolis players provide him all the zip and polish the work needs.

Antal Dorati

The final item on the program is the six-movement concert suite from the comic opera The Love of Three Oranges by Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891–1953). If anything, this work is more outwardly exciting than the others, and again Dorati is up the challenge. What's more, the LSO play with all the zeal the music needs, so we get another triumph from the conductor and orchestra.



If I had to find any fault in the album (which I don't have to but will anyway, because, you know, it's what critics do), it's that the there are only three track points, one for each major item. I would have liked track points for each selection within each suite. Oh, well, a minor quibble.



Producer Wilma Cozart (Fine), editor Harold Lawrence, and engineer C. R. Fine recorded the Kodaly at the Northrop Memorial Auditorium, Minneapolis, Minnesota in November 1956; the Albeniz in April 1957; and the Prokofiev at Watford Town Hall, London, England in July 1957. HDTT transferred the recordings from Mercury two-track tapes.



The recordings from Minneapolis are as vivid as they can be. Highs seem a trifle hard and sharp at times, but, otherwise, the sound is as spectacular as a listener could want. I remember owning these recordings on vinyl many years ago, but I don't remember them sounding as good as they do here. The frequency and dynamic ranges are very wide, with strong impact all through the spectrum and as quick a transient response as you'll find. The midrange sounds beautifully balanced and transparent. The stereo spread is wide without being too close up. The London recording is similarly clear and dynamic, but it adds a touch more roundness and resonance from Watford Town Hall, making it even more lifelike. Really fine listening.



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



JJP



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

Prokofiev: Alexander Nevsky (CD review)

Also, Khachaturian: Violin Concerto. Fritz Reiner, Chicago Symphony Orchestra and Chorus; Leonid Kogan, violin; Pierre Monteux, Boston Symphony Orchestra. RCA 09026-63708-2.



Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953) wrote his cantata Alexander Nevsky for the soundtrack of Russian filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein's 1938 motion picture of the same name. The film epic and the music commemorate the Russian repelling of a German invasion in the thirteenth century. In the tale, Prince Alexander Nevsky gathered an enormous army and met the enemy on the frozen ice of Lake Chud, where he dealt the Knights of the Teutonic Order a huge defeat. Today, people admire the film quite a lot, but I daresay even more folks know film's score better.



Eisenstein said of Prokofiev that he "...makes it possible for the screen to reveal not only the appearance and subjects of objects, but also, and particularly, their special inner structure...and forces the whole inflexible structure to blossom into the emotional fullness of orchestration." The movement titles say it all the better: "Russia Under the Mongolian Yoke," "Song About Alexander Nevsky," "The Crusaders in Pskov," "Arise, Ye Russian People," "The Battle on the Ice," "Field of the Dead," and "Alexander's Entry Into Pskov."

Fritz Reiner

The 1959 recording of the score by Fritz Reiner and his Chicago Symphony does full justice to the music, bringing out the anxiety of anticipation, the brutality of fighting, the heartache of loss, and the exhilaration of victory. Equally important, RCA's "Living Stereo" sound is entirely up to the task of conveying the nuances and explosiveness of the music. The hitch is that Andre Previn recorded an equally good account for EMI with the London Symphony Orchestra in 1972, and Warner still have the EMI disc in their catalogue, offering it at a very low price.



Here are some of the differences between the Reiner and Previn recordings: Reiner's interpretation is a tad more heartfelt, and RCA's sound is wider and clearer. Previn's performance is a shade quicker and more energetic, and EMI's sound is a bit warmer. On the loudest choral climaxes, the EMI tends to break up slightly more than the RCA. Additionally, Previn's chorus sings in the original Russian, while Reiner's forces sing in English.



Choice between the two may rest with their couplings. The EMI/Previn disc gives us a superb realization of Rachmaninov's The Bells, based on the Edgar Allan Poe poem; the RCA disc offers Khachaturian's Violin Concerto with Leonid Kogan on violin and the Boston Symphony conducted by Pierre Monteux, recorded in 1958. Sonically, the Khachaturian is not as smooth or comfortable as the Prokofiev, and while Monteux, Kogan, and company play exceedingly well, personally I have never cared overmuch for the Violin Concerto. So it's an easy choice for me to pick the EMI disc. , For you, however, it may be quite different, and Reiner's performance is very persuasive.



JJP



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

Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue (CD review)

Also, Prokofiev: Concerto No. 3; Ravel: Concerto for Left Hand. Julius Katchen, piano; Istvan Kertesz, London Symphony Orchestra. HDTT, remastered.



Julius Katchen (1926-1969) was an American concert pianist who died of cancer just a few months after recording the present album in 1968. One would never guess from the recording how ill he was; most of the music reveals the vigor and vitality of a man in more than good health. Yet, things happen. The celebrated Jewish-Hungarian conductor in the work, Istvan Kertesz (1929-1973), would himself succumb to a drowning accident a few years later. So, in a way, this is a sort of memorial to both artists and a fitting tribute to both their talents.



First up on the program is Rhapsody in Blue, which as you no doubt know bandleader Paul Whiteman persuaded American composer and pianist George Gershwin (1898-1937) to write back in 1924, suggesting he make a jazz-inflected showpiece for Whiteman and his orchestra. When Gershwin initially declined, saying he didn't know enough about orchestration to do the work justice, Whiteman assured him that he could get Ferde Grofe to arrange it for piano and orchestra. As everyone knows, Gershwin's fusion of classical and jazz became a musical phenomenon.



Katchen's version of the piece with the London Symphony may not be quite the lean, mean classical jazz Gershwin intended, though. Under Katchen and Kertesz, it's more a slightly jazzy classical piece. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's too sedate, too refined, too symphonic, and too somber, but it's close. I think it's just that Katchen was foremost a classical pianist and his naturally elegant style wasn't quite what Gershwin needed. Still, it's a pleasure listening to him play.

Julius Katchen

Next, we find the Piano Concerto for the Left Hand in D major (1930) by French impressionist composer Maurice Ravel (1875-1937), which Ravel wrote for a pianist who had lost his right arm during the First World War. This one is more up to the style of Katchen and Kertesz. We have it here in one continuous movement, although Ravel once said it was really two connected movements. Whatever, Katchen and Kertesz navigate the somewhat less but still jazz-toned score with more comfort, more-inherent ease, than they managed in the Gershwin. Both men lend a good deal of weight and gravitas to the music without missing any of its rhythmic tonal colors or lush, lyrical qualities.



Finally, we get the Concerto No. 3 in C major (1921) by Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953). While its arrangement is in a traditional three movements, the second movement is a set of variations ranging from fairly slow to very fast, and the final movement is a brilliant display of virtuosity. Here, too, Katchen and Kertesz shine, with a particularly playful opening Allegro and a dazzling close.



Producer Ray Minshull and engineers Kenneth Wilkinson and Alec Rosner recorded the music for Decca at Kingsway Hall, London, in November 1968. HDTT remastered the album in 2016. The sonics are nicely warm and rounded, with a decent sense of depth and dimensionally. The engineers captured the ambience of Kingsway Hall quite realistically, too, although in terms of balance the piano seems a bit bigger, more forward, than it might appear in an actual concert. Upper mids are sometimes a tad rough as well, although it's not enough to warrant concern. It's a comfortable, enjoyable sound, sure to please most listeners.



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



JJP



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

Ballets Russes: Russian Dances and Ballets (CD review)

Paavo Jarvi; Marinsky Choir, St. Petersburg; Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France.  Virgin Classics 7243-5-45609-2.



You're probably better at remembering things than I am because when I hear the name Paavo Jarvi I still find it hard not to think of Neeme Jarvi or Paavo Berglund. Fortunately, the younger Jarvi shares the same no-nonsense approach to music making as the older men. In this collection of famous short dances by Russian masters, Paavo Jarvi plays the music in a straightforward fashion--straightforward to a fault, I might add--and generally the music sounds the better for it.



The disc contains the usual suspects: Tchaikovsky, Khachaturian, Shostakovich, Prokofiev, Glazunov, Liadov, Glinka, and Borodin. The tunes are about as familiar as the names, too: the Polonaise and Waltz from Eugene Onegin; the "Sabre Dance" from Gayaneh; the "Waltz of the Flowers" from The Nutcracker; the "Dance of the Knights" from Romeo and Juliet; the "Polovtsian Dances" from Prince Igor; etc.

Paavo Jarvi

As well, there are a few less-familiar pieces: Shostakovich's cheeky little "Polka" from The Golden Age and "Waltz No. 2" from the Jazz Suite No. 2; Liadov's "Dance of the Amazon"; Glinka's "Valse-Fantasia," among others. Nothing lasts more than a few minutes, so it's the kind of album you can pop into your player for a moment or two or linger over for a while between chores.



More important, Jarvi serves it all up comfortably. He is perhaps not as idiomatic as some conductors in this type of repertoire nor so colorful as others, but, as I've said, his direct, forthright approach lets the music speak for itself, and that can be a pleasant surprise, indeed. It's all fairly light music, after all, and in short bits it's hardly the kind of thing one can get too far into; therefore, Jarvi's honest yet lively renditions of these pieces hit a welcome sweet spot.



Originally released by Virgin in 2004 (and rereleased in 2011 by Erato on the disc pictured above), the recording is robust, to say the least, not always conforming to the audiophile's conception of good audio, perhaps, but reasonably faithful to a real-life source. The bass comes up strong, perhaps a tad overly heavy, the bass drum especially prominent when necessary. The midrange appears somewhat obscured by the bass overhang and in full bloom seems somewhat thick. The highs are maybe not always as clear or vibrant as they could be, either, and on occasion sound slightly hard and sharp. The overall sonic effect is not unpleasant, however, and will surely please listeners seeking a "big" musical experience.



JJP



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

Prokofiev: Peter and the Wolf and Jazz! (CD review)

Also, Peter and the Wolf...Continued. David Tennant, narrator; The Amazing Keystone Big Band. Le Chant du Monde 274 2378.



The idea of fusing classical and jazz (or pop) has been around for a long time. For instance, jazz player Jacques Loussier and his group have been doing it quite successfully for over half a century. Whether die-hard classical or jazz fans find the fusion entirely satisfying is another question, but as a once-in-a-while novelty, such fusions sometimes work.



Anyway, what we have here is Peter and the Wolf (1936) by Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953) adapted for big band, in this case The Amazing Keystone Big Band. Prokofiev's intention was to introduce children to the sounds of a symphony orchestra by telling a children's story with various instruments of the orchestra representing the various animals and humans in the tale. In the present case, the idea is to introduce children to the sounds of a big, eighteen-piece popular band, with jazz instruments taking the place of symphonic ones. And, of course, to help sell any new recording of the Prokofiev classic, you must have a famous actor narrator the proceedings, in this case David Tennant (Doctor Who, Broadchurch, Gracepoint).



Everything comes off as expected, with the big band instruments doing an acceptable job imitating their counterparts in the symphonic orchestra. It's all quite jazzy, and it should please most kids. For adults, I'm not sure it's good jazz or good classical, but it goes down easy.



Tennant makes a cheerful, enthusiastic narrator, and the band plays competently. Although I didn't find any of this material particularly inspiring, there is nothing particularly boring about it, either. As I say, the producers pretty much meant it for children, so I'm sure it will amuse them.

David Tennant

Coupled with the Prokofiev is a series of items that is a sort of continuation of the story with instruments playing various animals, selections that I actually enjoyed more than the main item. There are the "Bird's Tweet," the "Soulful Cat," the "Elegy for a Duck," the "Hunter's Blues," "Beware of the Wolf," "Grandpa's Shuffle," and "Peter's March." Even though they don't match Prokofiev's inspiration, they display perhaps a tad more spark from the orchestra, which may have been playing it too reverentially in the main attraction.



The disc comes packaged in a sturdy Digipak container, with a well-explained and well-illustrated (by Martin Jarrie) booklet.



Executive producer Christian Girardin and engineer-director-editor Alban Moraud recorded the big-band music at the Studio of Theatre Durance, Chateau-Arnoux, France in February 2013 and the narration at Soho Voices, London in January 2015. The sound appears relatively distanced for this type of essentially pop music. The big band has a lot of air and space around it, the venue fairly alive with a healthy resonance. Then, too, the sound is slightly warm and soft, further reinforcing the notion that we are listening a little farther off than usual. The voice seems natural enough, although it, too, seems somewhat soft, even though the engineers recorded it separately and closer up. Still, it's all easy to listen to, just not quite audiophile material.



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: