Showing posts with label Schoenberg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Schoenberg. Show all posts

January 29, 2023

Migration (CD Review)

 By Karl Nehring



Adam Schoenberg: Symphony No. 2: Migration;
John Corigliano: Concerto for Clarinet; Jennifer Jolley: The Eyes of
the World are Upon You;
Stephen Montague: Intrada 1631. Jonathan
Gunn, clarinet; Brian Lewis, violin; The University of Texas Wind Ensemble,
Jerry Junkin, Artistic Director. Reference Recordings RR-150



Migration
From the outset, the Reference Recordings label has
enjoyed a well-deserved reputation for outstanding sound quality, and within
the first few measures of Adam Schoenberg’s Symphony No. 2: Migration,
it should be abundantly clear to most listeners that “Professor” Johnson has
delivered yet again. A brass fanfare followed in quick order by some BIG bass drum
whacks are impressive enough, but what really seals the deal, at least for
those with woofers and/or subwoofers sufficient for the sound, is the deep rumbling
resonant sound that lingers in the wake of the initial notes from the drum.
Such a rare but sublime surprise it is to enjoy such a sound in your very own
listening
space! So yes, Migration can be counted as an audiophile
release, but thank goodness, it is a release with substantial musical virtues
as well. As you can see from the header above, this is music for wind ensemble,
and the wind band from the University of Texas ranks as one of the very best in
the world. No, we are not talking about a small wind ensemble as might perform
chamber music, but rather a full-blown wind band comprising 60 or so members
including woodwinds, brass, and percussion – something like an orchestra
without the strings but with more sheer blowing power. Migration the
composition was commissioned for the ensemble and dedicated to Jerry Junkin. It
is in five relatively brief movements: I. March, II. Dreaming,
III. Escape, IV. Crossing, V. Beginning. From the dramatic
opening measures described above, the piece is a dramatic, lively, colorful,
and entertaining symphony that bears repeated listening,





Next on the program is a work from a composer
whose name is probably more familiar to our readers. Actually, however, the
surname “Schoenberg” is quite likely more familiar than “Corigliano,” although
the American composer of Migration, Adam Schoenberg (b 1981, is surely
much less well-known than either the Austrian-American composer Arnold
Schoenberg (1874-1951) or American composer John Corigliano (b. 1938), who originally
wrote this piece for full symphony orchestra. According to the liner notes, “the
original ‘Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra’ was written for Stanley Drucker,
the first clarinetist of Corigliano’s youth, and was premiered on December 6,
1977 by the New York Philharmonic under Leonard Bernstein. Craig B. Davis
created the wind ensemble version, and conducted its premiere on February 19,
2015 with Nicholas Councilor, clarinet, and The University of Texas Wind
Ensemble.” The concerto consists of three movements: i: Cadenzas, II. Elegy,
III. Antiphonal Toccata. Of special note is the second movement, Elegy, which
is a deeply moving tribute to his father wherein the sound of the clarinet
soloist is joined by the sound of a solo violin. Corigliano’s father served as concertmaster
of the New York Philharmonic for 23 years. The outer movements feature more
virtuosic and colorful playing, not just from Gunn on clarinet but the whole
ensemble, but it is that second movement that is the emotional heart of the
piece. The liner notes are adapted from Corigliano’s original program notes for
that original New York Philharmonic performance, a nice touch from Reference
Recordings.





UT Wind Ensemble
Following these two longer multi-movement works
are a pair of shorter single-movement pieces, beginning with The Eyes of the
World Are Upon You
by American composer Jennifer Jolley (b. 1981), which
according to the composer is a celebration of life to those who died in the
1966 University of Texas Tower shootings as well to those who survived that
awful tragedy. As you might expect from that description, it is a
serious-sounding piece, but not morose. There is a section that seems to depict
the shooting itself, or at least evoke its violent memory, but there is also
music of comfort and hope to be heard withing the composition’s nearly 12
minutes. As an aside, I was excited to read in the liner notes that Ms. Jolley
is a professor at Ohio Wesleyan University, for the campus is a mere 15 minutes
from my home and I immediately fixated upon the possibility of a face-to-face interview.
How exciting! However, a quick check of the OWU website did not yield any
information about her, and a quick web search revealed that since the CD had
gone into production, she had taken a new faculty position in New York. In any
event, judging from her work on this release, she is certainly a talented
composer and a name to look out for in the future.





Closing out the program is Intrada 1631
by the American composer and conductor Stephen Montague (b. 1943) who now lives
in England. Montague writes of his 10-minute composition that it “was inspired
by a concert of early South American liturgical music directed by Jeffery
Skidmore at the Darlington Summer Music School in the summer of 2001. One of
the most moving and memorable works in the program was a Hanacpachap
cussicuinin, a 17th century Catholic liturgical chant written in
Quechua, the native language of the Incas. The music was composed by a
Franciscan missionary priest named Juan Pérez
Bocanegra, who lived and worked in Cuzco (Peru), a small village east of Lima
in the Jauja Valley during the early 17th century. Intrada 1631 uses
Bocanegra’s twenty-bar hymn as the basis for an expanded processional scored
for the modern forces of a symphonic brass choir with field drums.” The music
is stately, formal, and powerful. What it lacks in tunefulness, it makes up for
in solemnity and impact.





As I mentioned at the beginning of this review, Migration
is an audiophile recording, not only for bass extension and dynamic impact,
but also for the excellent sense of soundstage depth and width that it
presents. How rewarding it is to have a true audiophile recording with genuine
musical value; moreover, the liner notes are also excellent, with each of the
composers commenting on their works, plus biographical information on the
composers, soloists, and conductor as well as information about the University
of Texas Wind Ensemble. The good folks at Reference Recordings have done
themselves proud with this outstanding release.

April 4, 2021

Schoenberg: Verklarte Nacht (SACD review)

Also, Lehar: Fieber; Fried: Verklarte Nacht; Korngold:
Lieder des Abschieds. Christine Rice, mezzo-soprano; Stuart Skelton, tenor;
Edward Gardner, BBC Symphony Orchestra. Chandos CHSA 5243.

By John J. Puccio

“Two people walk through a leafless frosty copse,
the moon tags along and draws their gaze.
...
He grasps her about her strong hips.
Their breath is mingling in the air.
Two people walk through a brightly shining night.”

--Richard Dehmel, “Transfigured Night,”

Those are the opening and closing lines of the poem
“Verklarte Nach” by German poet and writer Richard Dehmel (1863-1920). Dehmel’s
poems inspired such composers as such as Richard Strauss, Max Reger, Alexander
von Zemlinsky, Arnold Schoenberg, Oskar Fried, Alma Mahler, Anton Webern,
Ignatz Waghalter, Carl Orff, and Kurt Weill to set them to music. On the
present album we have four composers whom Dehmel inspired in one way or
another: Arnold Schoenberg, Oskar Fried, Franz Lehar, and Erich Wolfgang Korngold.
Maestro Edward Gardner and the BBC Symphony Orchestra do the honors, with tenor
Stuart Skelton lending his voice to Lehar’s Fieber and both Skelton and
mezzo-soprano Christine Rice singing in Fried’s Verklarte Nacht.

First up on the program is Fieber (“Fever,” 1915),
a short piece by Austro-Hungarian composer Franz Lehar (1870-1948). Although
Lehar was a contemporary of Schoenberg, his music is more associated with that
of operetta, and the link between him and Dehmel’s poem is tenuous at best. Lehar’s
tone poem (as he called it) is a musical tribute to his younger brother who lay
in hospital at the time from wounds received in the early going of the First
World War. Lehar set the words of poet Erwin Weill to music, and they do bear
resemblance in tone to Dehmel’s poem. The music is very dramatic, perhaps even
melodramatic, and between bouts of seriousness, it also betrays Lehar’s
light-opera leanings. Tenor Stuart Skelton sings it well, and Gardner and the
orchestra accompany him unobtrusively.

Next up is Verklarte Nacht (“Transfigured Night,”
1901), another short work, this one by German conductor and composer Oskar
Fried (1871-1941). Although Schoenberg wrote his musical setting for Dehmel’s
poem a couple of years earlier, he didn’t see it performed until 1902, a full
year after Fried’s operatic, vocal-instrumental version appeared. Fried’s piece
is pretty much a musical setting of the whole Dehmel poem, where tenor Skelton
is joined by soprano Christine Rice. I found it rather forgettable, but listeners
more attuned to opera than I am may enjoy its sentiment. There is no question
that everyone involved performs it well.

Then we get the centerpiece of the album, Verklarte
Nacht
by Austrian-born composer, writer, and painter Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951).
He originally wrote it for string sextet but arranged a string orchestra
version in 1917, which we have here. The work is pretty well known, and one can
find it recorded by practically every major conductor in the world. Later in
life, Schoenberg would credit not only Dehmel’s poem for his inspiration but
Brahms and Mahler as well. Interestingly, both the poem and Schoenberg’s music
were condemned back in the day for their frank sexuality. Maybe that’s why they
became so famous. In any case, Gardner provides us with a notably expressive
presentation of the score. While his reading is not so glamorized or
Romanticized as Karajan’s nor so incisive as Stokowski’s--older recordings that
easily come to mind--it gets to the heart of the music’s passion and turmoil in
perhaps more concise terms. Of course, it’s hard to match the sheer sensuality
of the Berlin strings. Still, Gardner well captures the extremes of sadness,
reflection, and forgiveness expressed in the poem, and without exaggeration.
It’s true that a few listeners may miss some of Schoenberg’s lush harmonies
here, which tend to get a little lost in the unfolding of the story, but
Gardner makes up for it with the lucidity of his musical storytelling.

The final work on the agenda is Lieder des Abschieds
(“Songs of Farewell,” 1920-21) by Austrian-born composer and conductor Erich
Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957). Korngold may be better recognized today for his
film scores (Captain Blood, The Sea Hawk, The Adventures of
Robin Hood
) but he wrote a large body of serious classical music as well,
including these four vocal settings for tenor and orchestra. Again the
connection to Dehmel’s poem is slender at best, but inside the booklet notes we
find the heading “German Orchestral Songs/Verklate Nacht” so maybe that
explains it. Whatever, tenor Stuart Skelton and Maestro’s Gardner manage to
convey a lovely, poignant mood in the piece, with the orchestra keeping a safe
distance in the more sensitive and affecting parts.

Producer Brian Pidgeon and engineer Ralph Couzens recorded
the music at Phoenix Concert Hall, Fairfield Halls, Croydon, England in March
2020. They made it for hybrid SACD; that is, playback in 2-channel stereo via a
regular CD player and 2-channel and multichannel via an SACD player. I listened
in 2-channel SACD.

Clearly, what Chandos Records were going for here was as
natural a sound as possible, with no bright edginess accompanying any sort
pretense to audiophile clarity. Yet, the sound is quite clear and natural, so
I’d say they succeeded, even though some listeners not used to such things may
think it’s too soft for their taste. The sound is also moderately dynamic,
evident from the low initial volume. Trust me: It gets plenty loud enough as it
goes along, the dynamic range being relatively wide. There is also good
orchestral depth and a broad and well-balanced frequency response.

JJP

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

February 13, 2020

Transfiguration: Music of Mahler, Beethoven, and Schoenberg (CD review)

Kenneth Slowik, The Smithsonian Chamber Players. Deutsche Harmonia Mundi 05472 77374 2.



By John J. Puccio and Karl W. Nehring



John's View:

This DHM (Deutsche Harmonia Mundi) release from 1996 may be as instructional as it is purely entertaining.



The program begins with Mahler's Adagietto from Symphony No. 5 (1901-02), the Adagietto composed as a love song for his wife Alma and the music becoming probably the most popular he ever wrote. Here, it is played on period instruments strung with gut rather than metal strings and performed with special attention to the playing technique and performance style one assumes preferred by the composer. Mahler gave instructions that it be played "very slowly," most conductors taking about ten minutes to get through it, yet Mahler himself played it in about seven minutes, which is about how long it takes Slowik. Interestingly, Slowik's interpretation is remarkably like that of Mahler researcher and amateur conductor Gilbert Kaplan's performance in that the tempo is much brisker than we are used to hearing on most modern recordings (and more like Mahler's). Yet, like Kaplan's reading, Slowik's recording works to good effect, perhaps because it appears to conform so readily to Mahler's intentions. Furthermore, the smaller size of the ensemble, the Smithsonian Chamber Players under the direction of Kenneth Slowik, helps to clarify textures, making it a unique experience worth in itself the price of the disc.



Following the Adagietto is Beethoven's Quartetto seriouso in F minor, arranged by Mahler in 1899 for string orchestra. It seems a bit bulky for its own good, but it retains an admirable inner beauty.






Kenneth Slowik

Next comes Schoenberg's Transfigured Night, using the 1917 arrangement scored for string orchestra. This is the centerpiece of the disc's agenda and almost comes into direct competition with a version by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra (DG). The two interpretations sound very much alike except for the slightly smoother tone of the Orpheus Orchestra's newer, modern instruments. Both versions are well recorded, but this newer disc is a touch more transparent.



The album continues with several excerpts from vintage Mahler recordings of the 1920's and 30's for reference points; and it concludes with Arnold Schonberg's 1950 program notes to "Transfigured Night," read in the original English by Richard Hoffmann, Schonberg's secretary and assistant from 1948-51.



The highlight for me, then, is the Adagietto, for its beauty and authenticity. The Schoenberg is a good companion to the Orpheus rendition, hearing Transfigured Night in somewhat different, perhaps more historically attuned sound. And the other bits and pieces make for enlightening listening and learning. With exceptionally warm, clear sound, this disc is a distinctly recommendable buy.



Karl's view:

Be forewarned: this CD is fascinating from the point of view of someone who loves Mahler and wants to learn all he or she can; however, it is also a CD that even for the Mahler fan will probably not be played more than a few times. I will quickly say that I enjoyed the chamber orchestra arrangement of the Beethoven quartet, but have no real desire to hear it again, and let's face it, Verklarte Nacht is something that many music lovers want to hear only occasionally. When you get right down to it, then, the only real attraction on this disk is the Mahler Adagietto.



While Gilbert Kaplan makes a point of playing the Adagietto faster than most conductors tend to play it (7:57--the excellent Abbado 5th on DG has it at 9:01, while I seem to recall that Leonard Bernstein would linger over it for 10 or 11 minutes), Slowik gets through it in an even faster 7:28. And while Kaplan draws a beautiful sound from the London Symphony Orchestra, the smaller forces under Slowik, playing older instruments and sliding spookily (portamento) between notes, manage to make an entirely familiar and beautiful piece of music sound downright strange, perhaps even a bit weird.



As I said at the outset, this will be of interest to hard-core Mahler fans. Believe me, you'll probably never hear another Adagietto that sounds quite like this one--and you'll probably never want to again once you've heard it--but you've really got to hear it at least once.



JJP/KWN



June 28, 2017

Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 (CD review)

Also, Schoenberg: A Survivor from Warsaw. Jane Marsh, Josephine Veasey, Placido Domingo, Sherrill Milnes; Chorus Pro Musica, New England Conservatory Chorus; Erich Leinsdorf, Boston Symphony Orchestra. RCA "High Performance" 09026-63682-2.



How can this be? The two recordings represented on the disc were made in 1969, yet not only had I never heard the particular recordings before, I had never even heard of their existence before. I mean, it's not as though they are obscure pieces of music done by obscure musicians. The Beethoven Ninth is one of the staples of the core repertoire, Leinsdorf and the Boston Symphony have been leading names in the classical domain, and Domingo and Milnes are top singers in their field. In fact, RCA thought so much of the recordings they included them in this "High Performance" remastering series. Had I been asleep at the wheel all these years?



Anyway, the program starts with Schoenberg's A Survivor from Warsaw, a brief orchestral work with narration by Sherrill Milnes. It is a grim but inspirational comment on the subject of World War II death camps. A survivor tells the story of a group of Jews who just as the Nazis were about to deport them to camps burst into singing the prayer "Shema Yisroel." Schoenberg wrote it in 1947, having apparently heard the tale from an actual Warsaw survivor. It is severe, as it must be, but with great flourish and color, ending in a kind of spiritual exaltation. It makes an oddly appropriate introduction to the Ninth Symphony that follows.






Erich Leinsdorf

At a little under sixty-six minutes, Leinsdorf's Beethoven Ninth must be among the fastest and most exciting on record. Of the almost one dozen or so versions I had on hand (Schmidt-Isserstedt, Bohm, Solti, Jochum, Norrington, Karajan, Szell, Mackerras, Zinman, Wand, Karajan, etc.), only Norrington's period-instrument account was marginally quicker.



Leinsdorf's rendering is a star-studded performance where everything appears to fit together perfectly, the conductor leading his orchestra and the listener in disciplined, straightforward, military cadences that at times can actually stir the blood. Yet, at the same time, I couldn't help feeling that in the process of stimulating our passions, Maestro Leinsdorf had also drained some of the humanity out of the piece, that he had lessened the poetic lyricism to a larger degree than I would have liked.



I can still appreciate Leinsdorf's recording, to be sure, and it does make a pleasant contrast to the more solemn and ceremonial interpretations that have come down to us through the years. Still, it wouldn't be my first choice in this material by any means.



The sound is a bit top heavy and bottom shy, providing good detail at the expense of a natural concert-hall realism. Although there is not a lot of depth to the orchestra or chorus, there is plenty of left-to-right stereo spread and good dynamic shading. The merest touch of background noise reminds one of the recording date.



Altogether, this seems a reasonable choice for remastering in RCA's "High Performance" audiophile line, if not, as I've said an absolute first recommendation for a Beethoven Ninth.



JJP



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




June 17, 2013

Emerson String Quartet: Journeys (CD review)


Tchaikovsky:
Souvenir de Florence; Schoenberg: Verklarte Nacht. Emerson String Quartet,
augmented by Paul Neubauer, viola II, and Colin Carr, cello II. Sony Classical
88725470602.




The Emerson String Quartet is not the oldest string
quartet in existence, but surely it is among the most well known. Formed in
1976 and with only a couple of personnel changes, the group has released over
thirty recordings and won three Gramophone
Awards and nine Grammys for Best Chamber Music Performance and Best Classical
Album. Did I also mention they are among the best at whatever music they
attempt?




The Quartet as comprised here includes Philip Setzer,
first and second violin; Eugene Drucker, first and second violin; Lawrence
Dutton, viola; and David Finckel, cello. Joining them for the two sextets on
the disc are Paul Neubauer, second viola; and Colin Carr, second cello.




The first of the selections on the program is the Souvenir de Florence, Op. 70 by Peter
Tchaikovsky (1840-1893), which he wrote for string sextet in 1890 and premiered
in 1892. He called it a “souvenir of Florence” because he composed a part of
the second movement while visiting the city. As with Schoenberg’s Verklarte Night that follows on the
disc, we often hear Tchaikovsky’s piece adapted for chamber orchestra, but
there’s something a little more intimate about these original sextet
arrangements.




The first movement is somewhat stormy, tumultuous in fact.
The Emersons attack the opening not just with verve but with absolute rigor.
The movement quickly settles down into a rapturous melody that the Emersons
infuse with an even further enlightening energy. It’s still quite lyrical but
on a spirited scale, especially in that drawn-out second subject with its
delicious counterpoint.




The slow second movement, the Adagio cantabile e con moto, is serene, the Romantic centerpiece of
the work. The Emersons capture its delicately rhapsodic nature without giving
in to the temptations of sentimentalizing it. They bring out all its most
lovely contrasts, the strings almost literally singing their parts. It is
sublime.




The final two movements, marked Allegretto moderato and Allegro
con brio e vivace
, increase in tempo and gusto, sounding far more
rhythmically vital and “Russian” than the rest of the work. In the Emersons’
hands, these sections bounce along at a zippy yet never breathless pace, the
third movement sounding particularly folksy in its presentation. The finale begins
with a quick dance tune that the Emersons handle in vivacious style, producing
a sunny, warm-hearted result.




The final number on the disc is Verklarte Nacht (“Transfigured Night”), Op. 4, a single-movement
sextet written by the Austrian composer and painter Arnold Schoenberg
(1874-1951) in 1899, one of his first important works. Apparently, his
inspirations were a poem by Richard Dehmel and his feelings for a young woman,
Mathilde von Zemlinsky, whom he would eventually marry. Audiences at first did
not appreciate the piece, finding it too eccentric, too avant-garde for them.
Today, we recognize Schoenberg’s occasional dissonances as a part of the work’s
beauty. Besides, it was only the start of Schoenberg’s modernism.




Anyway, the Emerson players perform Verklarte Nacht with great urgency and drama, charging it with
notable expression through their nuance and coloring. One has little trouble
following the music’s interrelated themes (especially with the words to
Dehmel’s poem reproduced in the accompanying booklet) as its story unfolds in a
miniature tone poem. The Emersons emphasize the warmth, stillness, passion, and
pathos of the poem, their playing again immaculate.




Sony recorded the Quartet at LeFrak Concert Hall, Queens
College, New York, in 2012. The miking puts the players fairly close, creating
a wide left-to-right stereo spread; meaning you’re not far away from them.
There is nothing hard, bright, or edgy about the recording, though. The sound
is smooth and natural, with a pleasantly warm ambient glow around the notes
that in no way detracts from the acoustic detailing. For a small chamber work,
its sound is impressively big and luxuriant.




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






JJP

April 9, 2010

Schoenberg and Sibelius: Violin Concertos (CD review)

Hilary Hahn, violin; Esa-Pekka Salonen, Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra. DG B0010858-02.



Is there anything Hilary Hahn can't handle with confidence? The Schoenberg Violin Concerto (1935) seemed so formidable when the composer wrote it that no less an artist than Jascha Heifetz initially refused to attempt it, saying a person would have to grow a sixth finger to play it. Indeed, the piece has never really caught on, and you'll find very few recordings of it. So, give Ms. Hahn credit for including the work along with Sibelius's far more-popular violin concerto.



The Schoenberg Concerto is at once modern, with harmonies and melodies going all over the place in rough juxtaposition, yet firmly rooted in the Romantic tradition in its customary three-movement configuration. Still, in Ms. Hahn's thoroughly doting and understanding hands, it comes off as quite accessible and, remarkably, as a concentrated whole rather than as a series of awkward gimmicks.



Ms. Hahn's handling of the Sibelius Violin Concerto (1905), too, is quite accomplished, although in this case so many other performers have recorded Sibelius's youthful work, with its dark, brooding opening, its meditative slow movement, and its vigorous finale, that Hahn's interpretation seems like just another contender. While it is a persuasive contender, to be sure, she has a lot of competition here, so it's probably not a first choice.



Deutsche Grammophon's audio is much as we have come to expect from this source. The DG engineers always seem to capture the sound of a solo instrument with great precision, and the violin has a strikingly vivid presence. Moreover, the dynamic range and impact are equally strong. Yet the overall orchestral accompaniment seems a bit too big and woolly by comparison and tends to stand out as slightly incongruous.



JJP

Meet the Staff

Meet the Staff
John J. Puccio, Founder and Contributor

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

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

Karl Nehring, Editor and Contributor

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

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

William (Bill) Heck, Webmaster and Contributor

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

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

Ryan Ross, Contributor

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

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


Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst

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

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

Mission Statement

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

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

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

Contact Information

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

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

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa