Vivaldi: 12 concertos op. 3 l’estro armónico (CD Review)

Also, Bach: Six concertos after l’estro armónico by Antonio Vivaldi. CD1: Vivaldi: Concerto No. 1 for 4 Violins in D Major, Op. 3, RV 549; Concerto No. 2 for 2 Violins in G Minor, Op. 3, RV 578; Concerto No. 3 for Violin in G Major, Op. 3, RV 310; Bach: Concerto for Solo Harpsichord after RV 310 in F Major, BWV 978; Vivaldi: Concerto No. 10 for 4 Violins in B Minor, Op. 3, RV 580; Bach: Concerto for 4 Harpsichords and Strings after RV 580 in A Minor, BWV 1065; Vivaldi: Concerto No. 11 for 2 Violins and Cello in D Minor, Op. 3, RV 565; Bach: Concerto for Solo Organ after RV 565 in D Minor, BWV 596; Vivaldi: Concerto No. 12 for Violin in E Major, Op. 3, RV 265; CD2: Bach: Concerto for Solo Harpsichord after RV 265 in C Major, BWV 976; Vivaldi: Concerto No. 4 for 4 Violins in E Minor, Op. 3, RV 550; Concerto No. 5 for 2 Violins in A Major, Op. 3, RV 519; Concerto No. 6 for Violin in A Minor, Op. 3, RV 356; Concerto No. 7 for 4 Violins in F Major, Op. 3, RV 567; Concerto No. 8 for 2 Violins in A Minor, Op. 3, RV 522; Bach: Concerto for solo organ after RV 522 in A Minor, BWV 593; Vivaldi: Concerto No. 9 for Violin in D Major, Op. 3, RV 230; Bach: Concerto for Solo Harpsichord after RV 230 in D Major, BWV 972. Rinaldo Alessandrini, director and solo harpsichord, Concerto Italiano; Lorenzo Ghielmi, organ; Andrea Buccarella, Salvatore Carchiolo, Ignazio Schifani, harpsichords. Naïve OP 7367.

By Karl W. Nehring

This is one of those releases that grabs your attention right from the very start and never really lets go. It opens with Vivaldi’s Concerto No. 1 in D Major for 4 Violins, RV 549, which features an opening allegro movement that takes no prisoners. But before getting too far into specifics, it might be best to talk a bit about the overarching idea behind this album. As you can glean from the header above, what we have here are related compositions by two composers who lived at about the same time but in different parts of Europe. Vivaldi was born in 1678 in Venice, Italy; he published these concertos in Amsterdam in 1911 at the age of 33. Bach was born in Eisenach, Germany, in 1685.

The liner notes point out that “a famous passage in Forkel’s biography gives the young Bach’s study of Vivaldi’s concertos an essential role in his education and there can be no doubt that he had the opportunity to reflect and work on the relevance of Vivaldi’s invention for his own music, assimilating structural and even melodic ideas from it. In fact, the transcription of Italian keyboard concertos was a widespread fashion at that time. Bach was undoubtedly stimulated to transcribe various originals in Weimar by Prince Johann Ernst, a lover of Italian music. His approach was invasive, as one might expect from Bach. This quintessentially German composer did not want to renounce the fascination of a more thoroughgoing use of counterpoint and even allowed himself some substantial changes to the structure and texture. His first task, however, was to create transcriptions that were idiomatically suited to the instruments. Whether he is transferring the music to the harpsichord or organ, Bach does not merely ‘copy’ Vivaldi’s notes, but elaborates on them, creating a sonic entity appropriate to the characteristics and possibilities of the respective instruments… One might be led to believe that these transcriptions were not intended as a tribute to Vivaldi, but rather as a gesture of defiance on Bach’s part, with the aim of demonstrating how well-crafted concertos could be transformed, in his view, into compositions of greater complexity and depth.”

Interspersing Bach’s keyboard arrangements amongst Vivaldi’s original compositions is an idea that works well in practice, especially when presented in such lively performances as we have here from Maestro Alesandrini and Concerto Italiano, the chamber orchestra that he formed in 1984, plus the organ and harpsichord performers named above. The music moves right along, but never feels rushed.

Concerto Italiano is a small group comprising four violins, two violas, a cello, double bass, and theorbo (a plucked string instrument similar to a lute), plus Alessandrini on harpsichord. Their small size (not to mention their vast experience in playing just this sort of music) makes them nimble and responsive, leading to a clarity of sound that is perfect for this sort of music. The occasional change in sonority in switching from orchestra to solo keyboard offers a refreshing sonic change of pace from time to time. In any case, be it orchestra or organ or harpsichord, the sound quality is natural and lifelike, with excellent transparency and no edge in the upper registers. It’s an album bursting with joy, well worth an audition, especially for those who have a tendency to go for Baroque.   

KWN

Richter: The New Four Seasons: Vivaldi Recomposed (CD review)

Max Richter, Moog synthesizer; Elena Urioste, solo violin; Chineke! Orchestra. Deutsche Grammophon 4862769.

By Karl W. Nehring

Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons has long been a favorite of classical music fans, often serving as the gateway drug that hooks innocent young ears on the genre. From Vivaldi to Mozart to Beethoven and before long, the unthinkable – they find themselves addicted to Mahler, or in extreme cases, they might even find themselves frantically seeking out alternative editions of Bruckner symphonies. For Vivaldi fans old and new, there are countless recordings of the piece available, including the recent version by I Musici recently reviewed by John J. Puccio: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/05/vivaldi-le-quattro-stagioni-cd-review.html. If you take a look at John’s review, you will note that I Musici themselves have recorded the work several times over the years, but they are certainly not the only recognizable musical name to have had more than one go at recording Vivaldi’s greatest hit. Still, it was surprising to learn that composer Max Richter (b. 1966) has now released the second recording of his “recomposed” version of Vivaldi’s masterpiece. The first release, titled Recomposed by Max Richter: Vivaldi, The Four Seasons, featured Daniel Hope on solo violin with the Kammerorchester Berlin under conductor André de Ridder along with Richter on electronic synthesizers. It was initially released by Deutsche Grammophon in the summer of 2012 and then later rereleased in 2014 in an expanded version that was also reviewed in Classical Candor by John Puccio: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2014/04/recomposed-by-max-richter-cd-review.html 

Now, a decade later, we have another recomposition of the score by Richter, this time around one of the main differences being that not only do we have (other than Richter) different musicians, but they are playing different sorts of instruments. According to the liner notes, both the Chineke! Orchestra (a British ensemble consisting primarily of Black, Asian, and other ethnically diverse musicians) plus violin soloist Elena Elena Urioste “are playing on gut strings and period instruments: the sort that Vivaldi would have heard, and played in his own time.” Richter says of this new version that “I don’t see this as a replacement, but it is another way of looking at the material. It’s like shining a light through something from a fresh angle. There’s a romance about that, as if a layer of dust has been blown off… I love the slight grittiness and earthy feeling that gut strings have. I wanted to match that flinty, haptic, tactile texture with the electronic elements.”

In keeping with the “early instruments” theme, it turns out this time around, Richter did not avail himself of the latest sorts of electronic instruments, but rather played his synthesizer parts on an early Moog dating from the 1970s. Moreover, the recording was mixed not digitally, as you might well take for granted these days, but rather on an analog mixer. Richter explains that “those [Moogs] are the first-generation synths…They have a certain presence and authority about them. I mean, they are crude in a way, but they are also like someone inventing the wheel. They have gravitas.” Indeed, the synthesizer does add weight and yes, gravitas to the proceedings, as Richter uses it at times to add bass underpinnings that of course Vivaldi would never have imagined but which add a foundation to the sonic structure that sounds entirely natural and appropriate. Although the idea of a synthesizer might strike fear into the minds of some potential listeners, rest assured that Richter does not use the Moog in such a way as to call attention to itself. Instead, the sound of the Moog fits right in with the rest of the ensemble. I mentioned the occasional use of the Moog to provide a bass foundation to the sound, but another welcome way that Richter employs the Moog is by making it sound like a harpsichord – an instrument that always adds charm to the sound of the Seasons. And speaking of sound, the sonics of this release are superb, with solidity and quite believable imaging. The engineering team (Rupert Coulson, recording engineer and mixing; Alice Bennett, recordist and editing; Götz-Michael Rieth, mastering) did a remarkable job on this one. Kudos to the whole team!

So… what have we here? This is certainly not just another recording of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons. Vivaldi’s venerable compostion, so familiar and so beloved to so many, truly has been “recomposed.” However, it has not lost its essential character. Richter’s version is clearly a version that is faithful to Vivaldi’s vision. If you enjoy the energy, drive, color, and variety of Vivaldi’s original, you will very likely get quite a kick out of Richter’s 2022 recomposed version, which has energy, drive, color, and variety in abundance, and is appropriately well-performed and well-recorded to boot. What a hoot!

KWN

Vivaldi: Le Quattro Stagioni (CD review)

Also, Verdi: The Four Seasons.” Marco Fiorini, violin; I Musici. Decca 485 2630.

By John J. Puccio

The first thing I thought of when I saw this latest issue of Vivaldi’s perennial Four Seasons was why we would possibly need another recording of it. But then I remembered that another recording was inevitable. They’re like the passing of the seasons themselves; you can’t stop them. The second thing I thought of was, Can this be the same I Musici that I remember from my youth? (I hadn’t heard anything from them in quite some time and figured they had disbanded. But, yes, it’s the same group that formed in 1951 and, with new members, of course, are still going strong. The final thing I thought of was the question of whether this was a new recording or a rerelease. It turns out that I back in the 1950’s Musici made the very first stereo recording of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, and they have been making new recordings of it about every ten years since. So this new recording with violinist Marco Fiorini is just the most-recent in a long line of Seasons recordings for them. In fact, it may be I Musici who have done the most to popularize Vivaldi’s classic than anyone on Earth.

Whatever, we all know what The Four Seasons is about: It’s a series of Baroque violin concertos that attempt to describe in musical terms the seasons of the year. Thus, we have early program music that aims in little tone poems to remind us of chirping birds, galumphing horses, barking hounds, and dripping icicles. Vivaldi meant the concertos to accompany four descriptive sonnets comprising the first four sections of a longer work the composer wrote in 1723 titled Il cimento dell'armonia e dell'inventione ("The Contest between Harmony and Invention"). People hardly remember the other eight concertos in the set but instantly recognize the Seasons.

Yet with all the emphasis on the works' graphic representations of the changes of the year, we tend sometimes to overlook the fact that each of The Four Seasons concertos is a three-movement piece for solo violin with orchestral accompaniment. In this regard, the various movements not only set a pioneering standard for program music but for instrumental concertos as well. And each concerto provides the soloist an opportunity to display appropriately virtuosic techniques.

So how does this new rendering of the piece by I Musici stack up against the multitude of other recordings currently in the catalogue, including their own? Well, nobody is going to confuse them with any of the period-instrument, historically informed interpretations we have available. No, I Musici’s way with the music is more gentle, serene, elegant, sophisticated, and refined. Indeed, a lot of folks will probably find it old-fashioned, and yet it’s so cultured, so polished, one cannot help admire it. You’ll find none of the hurly-burly of many modern readings here, none of the exaggerated pauses, stops, contrasts, and blistering tempos so favored by other groups vying for our attention.

This is not to say, however, that I Musici aren’t sufficiently exciting or expressive. Many of their Allegros are quite animated, and the Largos and Adagios are as lyrical and evocative as any you’ll find. (OK, I thought they took the Winter Largo too quickly, but that’s just me.) They simply do up the music in a more subtle and tasteful way than a lot of other ensembles. Put another way: If you’re looking for the most descriptive performance of Vivaldi’s programmatic music, you might want to look elsewhere. If you’re looking for the most-beautiful, most-stylish, most-graceful, most-polished performance, you might find I Musici more to your taste.

The fact is that despite the many personnel changes to I Musici over the seventy-odd years of their existence, they haven’t changed their approach to The Four Seasons much in all that time. Maybe they see a good thing when they hear it. Maybe we should count that a good thing, too.

Of greater interest to some listeners may be the disc’s companion piece, The Four Seasons ballet music by Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) from his opera Les Vepres siciliennes, here arranged for string orchestra and piano by Luigi Pecchia. The music is sprightly and enchanting by turns, and I Musici play it delightfully.

Producers Domin Fyfe and Michael Havenstein and engineer Fabio Ferri recorded the music at Collegio San Lorenzo, Rome in April 2021. The sound is quite good, quite ravishing, actually. It’s clear, warmly resonant, well balanced, strongly dynamic, and nicely captured across the sound stage. Although there isn’t much depth to the sonics or much space around the instruments, we may count that an advantage as it emphasizes the idea that the entire twelve-member band play as a single unit.

JJP

Musica Barocca (CD review)

Music of Albinoni, J.S. Bach, Handel, Marcello, Pachelbel, Purcell, Telemann, and Vivaldi. Giovanni Antonini, Il Giardino Armonico. Warner Classics 0190296455322.

By John J. Puccio

Il Giardino Armonico (“The Garden of Harmony”) is a period-instrument ensemble co-founded in 1985 by its leader Giovanni Antonini. Like most such bands, its primary purpose is to play music in a historically accurate style and on original instruments appropriate to the era (mainly the late seventeenth to early nineteenth centuries). In other words, to play music that the composers of such music would easily recognize if they were alive today. The 1980’s saw a number of such HIP (historically informed performance) orchestras pop up, many of which are gone now and many of which have stuck around. Il Giardino Armonico is one that stuck around.

Although Il Giardino Armonico is still performing and still recording, they recorded the present album in 2001 for Teldec Das Alte Werk, and Warner Classics is just re-releasing it 2022. So you might say it’s something of a relic itself. Still, it’s a good and welcome relic, filled with an abundance of good tunes by Baroque composers like Albinoni, J.S. Bach, Handel, Marcello, Pachelbel, Purcell, Telemann, and Vivaldi. It’s not quite a golden oldies collection of Baroque favorites, but it’s close. The main thing is that it’s well played and enjoyable to hear. The composers couldn’t have wanted more.

Here’s the program:

J.S. Bach: Suite No. 3 in D major
Albinoni: Oboe Concerto in D minor
Vivaldi: Flautino Concerto in C major
Albinoni: Adagio for solo violin and strings
Marcello: Oboe Concerto in D minor
Telemann: Concerto for two flutes in B minor
Pachelbel: Canon and Gigue in D major
Traditional: “Greensleeves”
Purcell: Chaconne in G minor
Handel: Solomon, “The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba”
Albinoni: Sinfonia a quattro in F major

So, some things familiar, some things not so familiar, but all things baroque. Il Giardino Armonico play with elegance and precision. This leads to technically well executed but not always the most exciting presentations. For me, they tend to suck a little of the life out of the music in the process of being so well-mannered. Take, for instance, the opening selection, the familiar Suite No. 3 in D major, BWV 1068. While it comes to life in the Gavottes, it’s generally polite in the extreme. Now, compare it to Jordi Savall’s account with La Concert des Nations on Alia Vox. Antonini and his crew may provide the greater degree of contrasts in style and tempo, but it’s Savall who delivers the most fun. He and his players simply sound as though they’re having a better time playing the music. Of course, this is hardly a slam against Antonini, who does a splendid job getting the music across with a minimum of fuss. It’s just a matter of taste in the long run, and many listeners will prefer the refinement of Il Giardino Armonico over the comparatively scruffy qualities of Savall’s group.

Il Giardino Armonico appear more in their element with Albinoni’s Oboe Concerto, which they render beautifully, with grace, ease, and polish. That’s followed by a zippy treatment of Vivaldi’s Flautino Concerto, and so on. One thing you can’t say about Antonini, though, is that he’s predictable. He tends to go from one extreme to another not only in his choice of material but in his choice of manners to play them. With the exception of several Albinoni pieces, you never quite know what he’s going to do with the music. Some of it comes off with strength and vigor (the Handel “Arrival of the Queen of Sheba” is especially lively); others sound rushed or overworked.

Producer Christoph Classen and engineer Michael Brammen recorded the music at Chiesa di San Giorgio, Morbio Inferiore, Switzerland in 2001. There is the feeling here of a very large space, with good orchestral depth and a fairly reverberant but not objectionable hall resonance. The image comes across coherently, with instruments well spaced. However, the dynamics seem all over the place, sometimes strong, sometimes a bit lifeless; lucidity sometimes transparent, sometimes soft and dusky; and the frequency balance sometimes tending to favor the upper register. All of this is perhaps a result of the various combinations of players and instruments involved, so like the performances, you never quite know what to expect.

JJP

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

Concerti All’Arrabbiata (CD review)

Music of Telemann, Platti, Vivaldi, and Geminiani. Gottfried von der Goltz, Freiburger Barockorchester. Aparte Music AP262.

By John J. Puccio

Although period-instrument bands have been around for a very long time (for example, Nikolaus Harnoncourt founded the Concentus Musicus Wien some seventy-odd years ago). But it wasn’t until the 1980’s or so that they really took off and proliferated. Today, a lot of them are gone, yet those that remain are still going strong. My own favorites for a long time have been the Philharmonia Baroque, La Petite Bande, and the subject of today’s review, the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra. Why those three? Because they seem to be having the most fun playing the music, enjoying what they are doing. They may not always be the richest-sounding or most-precise ensembles I’ve heard, but they are among the most enjoyable to listen to. Certainly, the Freiburg group appears to be enthusiastically embracing the music on the present album.

The current disc amply demonstrates the ensemble’s aforesaid ebullience, the appropriately titled Concerti All’Arrabbiata (“spicy hot concerts”). Gottfried von der Goltz and the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra have chosen music by four seventeenth and eighteenth-century composers--Telemann, Platti, Vivaldi, and Geminiani--that show their hotter, saucier side, and the orchestra play the pieces just that way--hot and saucy.

First up is the Concerto in D major for 2 horns, strings and continuo by the German composer and instrumentalist Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767). So, you might expect from the foregoing description of “all’arrabbiata” that the Freiburgers would be attacking the score all out at raucous speeds, but no. The tempos are sensible and gratifying, and the playing is delicately elegant. They take the hunting motif at the end sensibly as well, making for an enjoyable experience all the way around.

Next is the Concerto in G minor for oboe, strings and continuo by the Italian composer and oboist Giovanni Platti (1690?-1763). The Platti selection is less restrained than the Telemann, and Maestro van der Goltz and his players add a touch more zest to the proceedings. Yet they retain the work’s refinement, especially in the sensitive Largo.

After that we have the Concerto in E flat major for bassoon, strings and continuo by the ubiquitous (could we have a Baroque album without him?) Italian composer, violinist, impresario, and Catholic priest Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741). The Freiburg ensemble maintain a good feeling of equilibrium as they balance tonal and rhythmic differences within the score.

For the penultimate selection, it’s the Concerto Grosso in D minor “la Folia” by the Italian composer, violinist, and music theorist Francesco Geminiani (1687-1772). This concerto grosso is a spirited set of follia dances (the Germans referred to them as “rowdy amusement,” and some countries enacted laws against them). Today we wonder what the fuss was about. Whatever, under Maestro von der Goltz’s direction, the dances come off as tasteful entertainment, with some splendidly handsome embellishments. It was the highlight of the program for me.

The program concludes with a bookend: the Sinfonia in G major “Grillen-Symphonie” by Telemann. Its dignified yet vibrant sophistication make a fine summing up of the all’arrabbiata flavor, the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra keeping everything on a prudently even keel.

I have only two minor qualms: First, the album is too brief. Not only is the timing rather short (a little over 49 minutes), but the music is so engaging it goes by too quickly. Second, the packaging is one of those fold-out cardboard affairs that expands to three sections, with the CD buried in a center compartment. The disc doesn’t just slide out; you have to help it along and hope you don’t get too many fingerprints on the playing surface in the process.

Producer Nicolas Bartholomee and engineers Nicolas Bartholomee and Ignace Hauville recorded the music for Little Tribeca at the Freiburg Ensemblehaus, Germany in October 2020. The first thing that struck me about the sound was the excellent depth to the orchestra. Now, understand, the ensemble is not all that big, around two dozen players and about three deep, but there is space around the instruments and a lifelike feeling of front-to-back dimensionality to the music. At the same time, the overall effect is smooth, round, and natural. It’s quite pleasing, with just a touch of hall resonance to enhance the realism.

JJP

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

Vivaldi: The Four Seasons (CD review)

Also, La Folia. Francisco Fullana and Alan Choo, violins; Jeannette Sorrell, Apollo’s Fire. Avie AV2485.

By John J. Puccio

Oh, no! Not another Four Seasons! Does one really need another Four Seasons? Probably as much as you need another Beethoven Fifth Symphony, right? But this one is a little different being a historically informed performance by a period-instruments band. Which narrows down the field at least a little bit in that there aren’t that many period-instrument ensembles around anymore. Still, conductor and harpsichordist Jeannette Sorrell founded Apollo’s Fire, also known as the Cleveland Baroque Orchestra, in 1992, and it has proved its worth ever since.

I’ve reviewed a number of recordings from Ms. Sorrell and Apollo’s Fire over the years, and the thing that has always struck me is how sensibly they all unfold. There is nothing ostentatious, gung-ho, overboard, or gratuitous about the performances. Soloist Francisco Fullana’s violin tone is sweet and beguiling; the orchestra plays with enthusiasm and finesse; and Ms. Sorrell leads the players in a well-judged production. Very nice, even if you’ve heard these pieces a hundred times before.

I hardly need to say anything more about the primary works here, the four concertos known today as The Four Seasons by the Italian Baroque composer, violinist, teacher, and Catholic priest Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741). Practically everyone recognizes the little tone poems with their chirping birds, galumphing horses, barking hounds, and dripping icicles. Vivaldi meant the music to accompany four descriptive sonnets, and they comprise the first four sections of a longer work the composer wrote in 1723 titled Il cimento dell'armonia e dell'inventione ("The Contest between Harmony and Invention"). Although I doubt that most people remember much about the other concertos in the set, they cannot easily forget these first four.

But, again, why another recording? Ms. Sorrell tells us that Vivaldi “set out to prove that music--instrumental music--is so powerful that it can tell a story without words. In this case, the story is about life in the Italian countryside, the lives of the contadini--the Italian peasants of the 18th century who lived and breathed and celebrated with the changing of the seasons. My role in performing The Four Seasons is to conjure a story.” All very well, of course, but isn’t that what every musician who’s ever performed The Four Seasons tries to do? The question, I suppose, is how well they succeed, and Ms. Sorrell and company succeed very well, indeed.

Good booklet notes, by the way. They not only give us a solid introduction to the Seasons, they provide valuable information on each of the concertos as well. We get each of the poems on which Vivaldi based the music, a little of the music itself in manuscript form, and explanations of each of the stories. If we’re going to use the music to visualize the narratives in our head, we have to know as much as possible about them. The booklet provides that information.

So, how do things come off? About as well as any I’ve heard, and that’s most of them. It’s especially well considering the period instruments they use, which can sometimes be a bit harsh or even strident on competing discs, and the HIP tempos and contrasts used, which can sometimes be a bit extreme in the competition. In fact, the instruments sound smoothly reverberant, and the tempos Ms. Sorrell adopts are refreshingly moderate. Perhaps the overall impression one gets of the music is not so imaginative as, say, that of the Philharmonia Baroque or the Drottningholm Baroque Ensemble’s nor as exhilarating as those from La Petite Bande, Tafelmusik, or the English Concert, but Apollo’s Fire is, nevertheless, more than adequate in all departments. Most important, they convey the spirit and picturesque qualities of Vivaldi’s little tone paintings, creating vivid and lasting images in our mind’s of the stories they tell. It’s an altogether pleasant experience.

Accompanying The Four Seasons Ms. Sorrell has paired Vivaldi’s trio sonata La Folia (“Madness”), done up by Ms. Sorrell, Francisco Fullana, and Alan Choo. The title derives from the “folly” of a mad dance and probably originated in Portugal. A booklet note indicates it should be played with a “haughty sarabande-like rhythm, full of the tension of courtship and seduction.” That’s the way the players approach it here, with an elegant abandon.

Producer Erica Brenner and engineer Daniel Shores recorded the music at Avon Lake United Church of Christ, Avon Lake, Ohio in April 2021. As usual with an Avie recording, the sound is excellent. It’s widely spread across the sound stage, with excellent positioning of the instruments spatially and fine dimensionality. Things are a tad close, but it provides a precise definition, with little to no brightness or heaviness. The acoustic setting is just resonant enough to give the ensemble a little additional body. So, it is a good, well-balanced production, among the best you’ll find in this music.

JJP

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

Vivaldi: The Four Seasons (CD review)

Also, Piazzolla: The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires. JoAnn Falletta, Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra. Beau Fleuve Records 605996-998562.

By John J. Puccio

Don’t get me wrong. I have always enjoyed the work of conductor JoAnn Falletta and her Buffalo Philharmonic, and her performance of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons is as elegantly affectionate as any I’ve heard. It’s just that it probably isn’t different enough from the multitude of other good recordings of the piece most of us already have on our shelves to warrant a purchase for the Seasons alone. No, it’s the inclusion of Astor Piazzolla’s Four Seasons of Buenos Aires that makes the album worthwhile.

Italian composer, violinist, impresario, teacher, and priest Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741) wrote Le quattro stagioni (“The Four Seasons”) between 1718 and 1720. Almost everybody recognizes the four tone poems with their chirping birds, galumphing horses, barking hounds, and dripping icicles. Vivaldi intended the music to accompany four descriptive sonnets, and they constitute the first four parts of a longer work he titled Il cimento dell'armonia e dell'inventione ("The Contest between Harmony and Invention"). While most of us hardly remember the other eight concertos in the set, we cannot easily forget the first four, if only because they’ve been recorded so many times on practically every instrument known to man.

So, how does Ms. Falletta handle all this? As I said earlier, she approaches it with an elegant, refined affection, and the violin solos by Nikki Chooi are beautiful. The entire affair is well paced, not too fast, not too slow, with contrasts, pauses, extensions, and such providing color to each little tone picture. Here’s the thing, though: If you are used to a period-instrument, historically informed performance (Philharmonia Baroque, La Petite Bande, English Concert, Tafelmusik, Boston Baroque, etc.), Ms. Falletta’s account may be about the furthest thing from it. Still, for a modern-instruments rendering, this one is on a par with some of the best.

Nevertheless, Ms. Falletta’s version of Vivaldi is not the main attraction here. It’s the coupling of The Cuatro Estaciones Porteñas, also called Estaciones Porteñas (or “The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires” in English) by the Argentine composer of tangos Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992) that makes the album worthwhile. He wrote the four short pieces between 1965 and 1970 and scored them for a quintet of violin (or viola), piano, electric guitar, double bass, and bandoneón. They are, of course, tangos, and Piazzolla intended them to represent the four seasons in Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina. But he didn’t necessarily write them to be played as a suite; it’s simply that after completing all four of them, it seemed the natural thing to do, which he often did. However, he didn’t play them in the order Vivaldi did; he organized them as “Otoño” (Autumn), “Invierno” (Winter), “Primavera” (Spring), and “Verano” (Summer). More often, though, contemporary musicians order as they are here: Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring. Ms. Falletta uses an orchestral arrangement by Russian composer Leonid Desyatnikov, with violin solos by Tessa Lark. It’s quite the best I’ve heard these works done, particularly the haunting “Winter” selection.

Producer Bernd Gottinger made the recording live at Kleinhans Music Hall, Buffalo, New York in September and October, 2020. Yes, the box says “recorded live” in 2020, during the height of the pandemic. One must assume the audience observed social distancing, so there couldn’t have many in attendance. This is supported by the fact that we hear nary a peep from them, and any applause that may have been there was edited out. Everything is dead quiet. Nor is it as closely miked as so many live recordings are, making it additionally hard to tell it from a studio production. Which I count as a blessing.

Anyway, the sound is quite good. It’s perhaps a tad forward and bright, but otherwise displays excellent detail, with strong dynamics and superb clarity and transparency. While it’s also a bit one-dimensional, without a lot of hall ambience, an extended frequency range tends to make up for it in its own way. So, as I said, it sounds like a good studio production rather than a live recording.

JJP

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

Souvenirs of Spain and Italy (CD review)

Music of Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Vivaldi, Turina, and
Boccherini. Sharon Isbin, guitar; Pacifica Quartet. Cedille CDR 90000 190.

By John J. Puccio

Sharon Isbin is an American classical guitarist, the
founding director of the guitar department at the Juilliard School, a winner of
multiple Grammy Awards, and a soloist with over 200 orchestras throughout the
world. In other words, she knows what she’s doing. She began studying the
guitar at the age of nine, she has recorded well over two dozen albums since
her recording debut in 1978, and she has been going strong ever since.

Ms. Isbin is accompanied on the album Souvenirs of
Spain and Italy by the Pacifica Quartet: Simin Ganatra, violin; Austin
Hartman, violin; Mark Holloway, viola; and Brandon Vamos, cello. They perform
four pieces by Spanish and Italian composers, giving us a little taste of both
countries. To say that the performances are polished and sparkling would be an
understatement.

First up on the agenda is the Quintet for Guitar and
String Quartet, written in 1950 by the Italian composer, writer, and
pianist Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895-1968). The composer described himself
as “anti-modernist,” so the listener needn’t worry that we’re getting anything
noisy, atonal, or avant-garde. In fact, the four movements are lovely, lyrical,
with a poignant melody in the Andante. Ms. Isbin’s guitar playing is
light and delicate when needed and robust in the finale.

Next up is the Concerto in D Major, written in the
1730s by Italian composer, violinist, teacher, impresario, and priest Antonio
Vivaldi (1678-1741). He originally wrote it for lute, strings, and continuo,
but here we find it arranged and edited for guitar and strings by Emilio Pujol
and Sharon Isbin. It sounds typically Vivaldi, although Ms. Isbin and her
friends play it perhaps a shade more subtly, more gracefully than one usually
hears from this composer.

After that is La oracion del torero for string quartet
(“The Bullfighters Prayer”), written in 1925 and reworked in 1936 by Spanish
composer Joaquin Turina (1882-1949). It’s a single, short piece, about eight
minutes long, with a varying and colorful character. The quartet plays it alone
with color and character, a sweetly engaging performance.

The program closes with the Quintet for Guitar and
String quartet No. 4 in D Major “Fandango,” transcribed by the Italian
composer and cellist Luigi Boccherini (1743-1805) from his own earlier quintet.
It’s an elegant, flowing piece that was, for me, the highlight of an excellent
set, combining the best of Italy and Spain. It makes an attractive way to end
an entirely winning disc.

Producer Judith Sherman and engineer Bill Maylone recorded
the music at Auer Hall, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana in January
2019. The sound is a trifle close-up, but it doesn’t distract from the music.
The spacing of the players is especially distinct, and the instruments display
good detail and clarity without a trace of brightness or hardness. It’s sound
that should appeal to everyone, from audiophiles to earbud wearers.

JJP

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

Art of the Mandolin (CD review)

Music of Vivaldi, Beethoven, Bruce, Sollima, Scarlatti,
Ben-Haim, and Henze. Avi Avital, mandolin; Alon Sariel, mandolin; Sean Shibe,
guitar; Anneleen Lenaerts, harp; Ophira Zakai, theorbo; Patrick Sepec, cello;
Yizhar Karshon, harpsichord; Venice Baroque Orchestra. DG 00289 483 8534.

By John J. Puccio

Israeli mandolinist Avi Avital (b. 1978) made his debut
album some years ago on the Naxos label and has since followed it up with
several more albums for DG, including this one, called simply Art of the
Mandolin, and featuring music by Vivaldi, Beethoven, Bruce, Sollima,
Scarlatti, Ben-Haim, and Henze. Although Avital’s speciality may be music of
the Baroque period, the selections on the present album span everything from
the Baroque era to the present.

As I said of Avital in an earlier review, he “is
unquestionably a fine mandolin player, his tone sweet and fluid, his tempos
well judged, neither too breakneck fast nor too maddeningly slack, and his
natural affinity for the instrument always in evidence in his intonation and
flexibility.” Certainly, the same can be said about his playing this time around
as well.

The mandolin, if you’re not quite sure about it, is a
stringed musical instrument in the lute family, usually plucked with a small
piece of plastic, metal, or ivory. It commonly has four adjacent rows of
doubled metal strings tuned in unison (8 strings), although five (10 strings)
and six (12 strings) versions are also popular. Mandolins developed from the
lute family of instruments in Europe, and some their predecessors include the
gittern and mandola in Italy during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
There are a number of regional variants but two of the most common ones are the
Neapolitan mandolin and the Lombardic mandolin, the Neapolitan style probably
most well known (and thank you, Wikipedia).

Anyway, the album begins with the Concerto for 2
Mandolins, Strings and Basso continuo in G major by Antonio Vivaldi
(1678-1741). Here, Avital is accompanied by Alan Sariel, mandolin, and the
Venice Baroque Orchestra. They take the outer Allegros with a graceful
panache, not too fast but quick enough to give them a lively spirit. These
sections also give the soloists a chance to show off their considerable skills,
and the final movement is particularly robust. The central Andante is
delicately handled, light as a feather, sweet as a flower in May. Quite lovely
all the way around, actually.

Next, we hear the Adagio ma non troppo in E flat major
for Mandolin and Harp by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827). Avital is
accompanied by Anneleen Lenaerts on harp, and together they provide a
beautifully lyrical reading of Beethoven’s music. It is a love song, really,
and the pair do well by it.

After that is Death Is a Friend of Ours by British
composer David Bruce (b. 1970), with Avital, mandolin; Sean Shibe, guitar;
Anneleen Lenaerts, harp; Ophira Zakai, theorbo; and Yizhar Karshon,
harpsichord. Here we get a surprising throwback for a modern work, combining
the best of the nineteenth century with a distinctly contemporary sensibility.
It’s vibrant and rhythmic with a charming middle section. It’s all quite
festive, in fact, despite the rather gloomy titles the composer gave to the
movements: “Inside the Wave,” “The Death of Despair,” and “Death Is a Friend of
Ours.”

Things continue with the Prelude for Solo Mandolin
by Italian composer and cellist Giovanni Sollima (b. 1962), in which Avital
obviously takes it alone. It’s the most-recent composition on the program, yet
it references older styles and dances. It’s also probably the most fascinating
and imaginative piece on the agenda. Avital’s playing is a revelation.

Following that is the Sonata in D minor for Mandolin
and Basso continuo by Domenico Scarlatti (1685-1757). Here, Avital is
accompanied Ophira Zakai, theorbo; Patrick Sepec, cello; and Yizhar Karshon,
harpsichord. Scarlatti’s work is stately and dignified, The fact that the
composer may not have been written the piece specifically for the mandolin is
beside the point. Surviving manuscripts do not indicate what solo instrument
Scarlatti had in mind, but the music seems well suited to the mandolin, and
Avital appears to enjoy it.

Then there is the Sonata a tre for Mandolin, Guitar and
Harpsichord by Israeli composer Paul Ben-Haim (1897-1984), where Avital is
accompanied by Sean Shibe, guitar, and Yizhar Karshon, harpsichord. Here, the
music references Middle-Eastern sounds, and it makes a nice contrast with the
rest of the lineup.

The program concludes with the Carillon, Recitatif, and
Masque for Mandolin, Guitar and Harp by German composer Hans Werner Henze
(1926-2012). Avital is accompanied by Sean Shibe, guitar, and Anneleen
Lenaerts, harp. The three movements well describe the sounds therein, and
Avital and company do a good job delineating them. Avital says he likes to
think of the opening section as “a walk through an imaginary toyshop.” The
sounds are creative in themselves and creatively explored by the soloists,
whose three instruments blend into one.

Producer Andreas Neubronner and engineers Sebastian
Nattkemper and Rainer Maillard recorded the music at Stadttheater, Furth;
Teldex Studio, Berlin; and Meistersaal, Berlin. As we might expect from DG, the
sound is clear and rich, with a hint of hall resonance to complement the
realism of each track.

JJP

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

Haydn: Cello Concertos (CD review)

Also, Vivaldi: Concerto for Violin and Cello. Christoph Croise, cello; Sherniyaz Mussakhan, violin; Eurasian Soloists Chamber Orchestra. Avie AV2402.



At first blush it may seem incongruous that noted French-German-Swiss cellist Christoph Croise would record pieces by two such seemingly disparate composers as Joseph Haydn and Antonio Vivaldi to pair up on this album. After all, Haydn (1732-1809) is, along with Mozart, probably the most well-known musician of the Classical Period (around 1730-1820), and Vivaldi (1678-1741) is, along with Bach, probably the leading exponent of the Baroque Age (roughly 1600-1760). Yet, upon closer examination we see that Haydn completed his First Cello Concerto relatively early in life, mid 1760's, and Vivaldi wrote his Concerto for Violin and Cello relatively late in life, somewhere in the 1720's. So only about forty years separate the two works. While they may sound different, it's possibly more the result of the compositional styles of their authors than a true reflection of their eras. And, in fact, without Vivaldi and his gazillion concertos, we might not have had a Haydn or Mozart as we know them today in the first place.



Whatever, the program opens with the two Haydn Cello Concertos, No. 1 in C and No. 2 in D. Mr. Croise is accompanied by the Eurasian Soloists Chamber Orchestra, which, according to the Avie Records Web site, was "created in May 2015 by violinists Sherniyaz Mussakhan (Kazakhstan) and Jana Ozolina (Latvia). It consists of young artists, competition winners and soloists already well established on the international classical scene. These musicians, hailing from some ten different Eurasian countries, came together in Switzerland to share their various cultures and schools of performance, believing strongly in the principle that for the most beautiful language in the world--music--there are no borders." The orchestra is small, about seventeen players, and provide Mr. Croise a clean and elegant accompaniment. This greatly complements Croise's obvious joy in the music making.

Christoph Croise

Even though there are five cello concertos bearing Haydn's name, there are only two, the ones we find here, that the composer probably actually wrote. And there were even doubts about these. Anyway, Austrian composer Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809) wrote the Cello Concerto No. 1 in C major somewhere between 1761 and 1765. It's an early work and roughly contemporaneous with his Symphonies Nos. 6, 7, and 8. He wrote the Cello Concerto No. 2 in D major about twenty years later in 1783. Although No. 2 sounds obviously more mature and complex, it's still Haydn, so it's as delightfully charming as all of his material.



I mentioned that Croise displays a noticeable joy with this music. There's a spark, an effervescent fizz in his playing, which isn't about mere tempo speed or loudness contrasts. I'm reminded here of action-movie directors who increase the volume of the background score to encourage viewers to believe that things on screen are more exciting than they really are. There is none of that phoniness with Christoph Croise; he's the real deal. He substitutes nuance and élan for theatrics. Yet his playing is clearly virtuosic when necessary and elegant always.



The interpretations hold up as well. They are well integrated, the phrasing well strung together into a coherent whole, the movements all of a piece to produce a wonderfully structured set of notes that flow naturally and effortlessly from beginning to end. It helps, too, that the small Eurasian Soloists ensemble is so accomplished. They hold up their end of the bargain admirably, providing fresh, lively support throughout.



Although the little Vivaldi concerto comes as something of an afterthought following the more intricate-sounding Haydn creations, cellist Croise and violinist Mussakhan offer up an invigorating reading. They play almost as one, each gracing the other's contributions in vigorous conversation. It's a spirited affair and one that will delight any Vivaldi fan.



Engineer Joel Cormier recorded the concertos at Kirche Oberstrass, Zurich, Switzerland in November 2017. As with all of Avie's recordings, this one sounds splendid. Of course, having a small ensemble to work with is going to help in obtaining a transparent sound, but the placement of instruments, the imaging, is also excellent. And the environment is both alive with ambient bloom and given to fine detailing at the same time. The soloist appears admirably well situated within the orchestral context, being neither too close to the listener nor too far away; it's truly an ideal arrangement. Good job, Avie.



JJP



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

Vivaldi x2 (CD review)

Double Concertos for Horns, Oboes, Violin and Cello, and Oboe and Bassoon. Adrian Chandler, director and violin, La Serenissima. Avie Records AV2392.



First, the good news: There isn't a Four Seasons in sight.



The bad news? There isn't any. As always with director and violinist Adrian Chandler and his period-instrument band La Serenissima ("most serene," as in the nickname for Venice), everything is in perfect order. The ensemble is clean and precise, yet lively and stimulating. "Vivaldi x2" is another outstanding release in La Serenissima's fine catalogue of recordings.



This time out the group's gimmick is to include as many of Vivaldi's concertos as possible written for two primary instruments. These include



Concerto in F, RV 539, for two horns, strings, and continuo

Concerto in D minor, RV 535, for two oboes, strings, and continuo

Concerto in A, RV 546, for violin, cello, strings, and continuo

Concerto in G, RV 545, for oboe, bassoon, strings, and continuo

Concerto in F, RV 538, for two horns, strings, and continuo

Concerto in B flat, RV 547, for violin, cello, strings, and continuo

Concerto in A minor, RV 536, for two oboes, strings, and continuo

Concerto S.A.S.I.S.P.G.M.D.G.S.M.B in F, RV 574, for two horns, two oboes, bassoon, violin, cello, strings, and continuo



As each concerto lasts from six to about twelve minutes, it gives the album a total time of over seventy-five minutes. That's close to a full house, the upper limit of a Red Book CD.

Adrian Chandler

Anyway, Chandler and his crew are no namby-pamby HIP ensemble. They attack each line with vigor and enthusiasm. Yet despite their zest for the music making, they are as exacting in their execution as anyone. Take the first concerto, for instance, the Concerto for Two Horns. There's nothing fussy about it; it brims over with life. Still, the slow middle movement shows sensitivity and grace, and then it ends in a note of pure effervescence.



And so it goes. Vivaldi wrote a busload of double concertos, so the eight on this disc are but a small sampling. Perhaps this portends more such material from Chandler and La Serenissima. Let us hope so.



However, if I have any minor quibble about the album, it's one I've had about hundreds of CD's and LP's over the years: The cover art. I'm probably alone in this, but I like looking at a recording's cover art while enjoying the recording's music. When a cover picture conjures up images of the music's content, I'm pleased, as with La Serenissima's "The French Connection" and "A Tale of Two Seasons." However, when it's as dull as the picture of two cute little cars ("x2") on the present black-and-white cover, it might as well be nonexistent. Full-face portraits of an album's primary artist annoy me as well: photos of Alfred Brendel or Herbert von Karajan or whomever; I don't care.



Let me elaborate: Many years ago, Philips released an LP recording of Schubert's "Trout" Quintet by an augmented Beaux Arts Trio. The album featured a painting of an old mill with a water wheel beside a bucolic scene of a running stream. It was beautiful; it inspired one to appreciate the music all the more. Then Philips issued the recording on CD and changed the cover art to some drab, generic abstract fish painting (and later to a trio of jumping fish). When Pentatone re-released the album on SACD, they did likewise, failing to use the original cover art and employing some nondescript water imagery. So I looked on-line for a picture of the original Philips LP artwork, found it, copied it, re-sized it, sharpened it, spruced up the colors, and then printed it out and inserted it in front of the CD booklet. My enjoyment of the music improved.



Simon Fox-Gal produced, recorded, and edited this Vivaldi recording, which he made at Cedars Hall, Wells, Somerset, UK in February 2018. The sound is dynamic, a little close, clear if a tad soft, slightly reverberant, and detailed but never hard-edged or strident. Certainly, the hall is in evidence here, which makes the presentation all the more realistic. There is also a moderate depth to the image, so we get a sense of space as well as breadth, with plenty of air around the instruments. Nicely done.



JJP



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

Vivaldi: The Four Seasons (CD review)

Neville Marriner, Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. Decca Originals B0006627-02.



There was a time year ago that I had almost given up hope the major classical record labels were going to remaster and reissue any more of their back catalogue in audiophile or near-audiophile editions. Production of EMI's "Great Recordings of the Century," DG's "Originals," and Decca's "Classic Sound" had begun to slow down precipitously by 2006. But then Decca came back with a series of reissues in 96kHz/24-bit remasterings they called "The Originals," presumably taking the nod from their former rival, DG, and now stablemate at Universal Music.



Among the first releases in Decca's "Originals" series was the late Neville Marriner's 1969 Argo recording (issued in 1970) of Antonio Vivaldi's The Four Seasons with violinist Alan Loveday and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. And I'm so glad that Decca not only remastered the recording in their most modern technology but included a front picture of the original Argo cover as well. Not only is it appropriate, it reminds me that I wasn't imagining things in remembering that in their beginning the Academy used hyphens in their name. I often still do, regardless of how they punctuate it now. Anyway, another retro thing the new Decca reissues do is embellish the top of each "Originals" disc with a replica of the old LP. In other words, the CD looks like a miniature vinyl record.

Sir Neville Marriner

It seems as though I have so many Four Seasons in my collection and so many that pass through the house for review that the only time I get a chance to listen to Marriner's performance is when a new edition of it comes along. Then it reminds me just how good it is. The last time was in the late Nineties when it appeared as a "Penguin Classic."



Years ago I included the Marriner recording in a survey of The Four Seasons, and I used the word "surrealistic" to describe it, a term suggesting the interpretation's imaginative touches. I'm not sure it's actually a compliment, but it seems appropriate. Marriner's views of the individual tone poems are highly evocative, as they should be, and are characterized by considerable polish, subtle embellishments, and sometimes dramatic shifts in tempo and dynamics. The fast movements are lively, often sparkling, and the central, slow movements are graceful and refined. However, it is those dynamic contrasts that stand out. The disc has had me jumping for the volume control on more than one occasion over the years. I couldn't say whether Marriner had a really precise control over his Academy musicians (likely), or whether the balance engineer did some tweaking of the dynamics after the fact (also possible), but the results are both startling and pleasant.



Yes, the sound is agreeable, although perhaps not the epitome of transparency. Still, it is warm and smooth. The new mastering seems to add a touch more clarity in the midrange, a bit more body in the upper bass, and, more important, eliminates the slightly sour overtones I remember hearing in its first CD rendering in the early Eighties.



Now, to make a good thing even better, Decca coupled The Four Seasons with three wind concertos that Marriner and the Academy recorded in the mid Seventies. If anything, they sound even better recorded than the Four Seasons, and they almost double the playing time of the disc over all previous editions of Marriner's Four Seasons alone. These added items are the Concerto for Two Oboes in D minor, with Neil Black and Celia Nicklin, oboes; the Bassoon Concerto in A minor, with Martin Gatt, bassoon; and the Piccolo Concerto in C major, with William Bennett, piccolo. Needless to day, they, too, are performed in impeccable style and grace by all parties.



While my tastes have changed somewhat over time, and I now tend to favor the period-instrument recordings by the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra, the Drottningholm Baroque Ensemble (BIS), the English Concert (Archiv), La Petite Bande (Sony), and Tafelmusik (Sony), Marriner's modern-instrument version easily takes its place beside them.



JJP



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

Songs for Strings (CD review)

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



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



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



Here's a run-down on the program:

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

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

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

  4. Antonio Lotti (1667-1740): Crucifixus

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

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

  7. David Fraser: Lord Lovat's Lament

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

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

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

11. Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Pleading

12. Edward Elgar: A Child Asleep

13. Edward Elgar: Queen Mary's Lute Song

14. Donald Fraser: Epilogue for Strings

15. Marin Marais (1656-1728): Sonnerie



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



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

Donald Fraser

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



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



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



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



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



JJP



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

Vivaldi: The Four Seasons (SACD review)

Also, Il Riposo per Il S.S., Concerto L'Amoroso, Concerto Il Grosso Mogul. Rachel Podger, Brecon Baroque. Channel Classics CCS SA 40318.



For the past twenty-odd years, British conductor and violinist Rachel Podger has been a dominant figure in the fields of period-instruments and historically informed performances. She is a past leader of the Gabrieli Consort and Players and later of The English Concert, plus a guest director of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, Arte dei Suonatori (Poland), Musica Angelica, and Santa Fe Pro Musica (both in the United States) and as soloist with The Academy of Ancient Music, Philharmonia Baroque, and others. If that were not enough to keep one busy, Ms. Podger is also a professor of Baroque violin at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama and the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama and teaches regularly at the Hochschule für Künste, Bremen. Moreover, in 2008, she took up the newly founded Micaela Comberti Chair for Baroque violin at London's Royal Academy of Music and then became professor of Baroque violin at the Royal Danish Academy of Music.



And she has also made a ton of recordings. Among them are Vivaldi's La Stravaganza concertos, which won Gramophone magazine's Best Baroque Recording of 2003, and Vivaldi's L'estro Armonico, Opus 3, which won Gramophone's recording of the month for April 2015. So she knows her Vivaldi. The wonder is that it took her so long to record Vivaldi's most ubiquitous work, The Four Seasons, but in this case better late than never.



Ms. Podger conducts from the violin and this time she is working with Brecon Baroque, a small period-instrument ensemble that includes Johannes Pramsohler, violin; Sabine Stoffer, violin; Jane Rogers, viola; Allison McGillvray, cello; Jan Spencer, violone; Daniele Caminiti, theorbo; and Marcin Swiatkiewicz, harpsichord and chamber organ.



The first thing one notices about a group so small is the transparency of the sound. Compared to bigger ensembles in these pieces, Mr. Podger and her players sound eminently clear. Which brings up the second thing one notices immediately: the period instruments. Each of them stands out for the distinctiveness of its sound.



I doubt I need to add anything more about the primary works here, the four concertos popularly known as The Four Seasons by the Italian Baroque composer Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741). Practically everyone recognizes the little tone poems with their chirping birds, galumphing horses, barking hounds, and dripping icicles. Meant to accompany four descriptive sonnets, they comprise the first four sections of a longer work the composer wrote in 1723 titled Il cimento dell'armonia e dell'inventione ("The Contest between Harmony and Invention"). While most people no doubt hardly remember the other eight concertos in the set, they cannot easily forget these first four.

Rachel Podger

Apparently, Ms. Podger has made something of a name for herself with previous concert performances of The Four Seasons, so, again, experience pays off. As I said, because of the small number of players involved, one hears a remarkably vivid, transparent sound. Then, there is the sound of the period instruments. Again, because of the small size of the ensemble and the clarity of the sound, each instrument stands out as something special, something unique, and definitely ancient (in a good way).



Perhaps most important, though, is that while Ms. Podger and her company follow historically informed practice, that does not mean they make the music a race to the finish line. You'll find no rushed, frenzied, galloping tempos here. Indeed, the whole production sounds about as leisurely as you'll find most of the time. This is not to say the Allegros are slack, however. No, not at all. In the faster sections, Ms. Podger leads and plays with vigor and conveys an appropriate excitement or high spirits or whatever as necessary. It's just that she never speeds things up or slows them down simply for some ultimate dramatic effect. She does so as the music (and composer) demands.



I especially liked the unhurried simplicity of the "Spring" concerto; the sunny charm of the "Summer" concerto (and its thrilling conclusion); the humor and commotion of the "Autumn" concerto; and the contrasts of trembling cold and cozy warmth in the "Winter" concerto. Ms. Podger and her friends convey the musical scenes with vivid color and picturesqueness.



The other items on the program--Il Riposo per Il S.S., Concerto L'Amoroso, and Concerto Il Grosso Mogul--are ones that Ms. Podger has been performing for years, and again practice makes perfect. Even though these pieces don't leave one with the visual and aural impressions of Vivaldi's "Seasons," they are richly eventful, nonetheless, and Ms. Podger presents them with affection, authority, conviction, and utmost virtuosity throughout.



Producer Jonathan Freeman-Attwood and engineer Jared Sacks recorded the music at St. Jude's Church, London in October 2017. They made the disc for hybrid SACD playback, so you can listen to it in two-channel or multichannel SACD if you have an SACD player and regular two-channel stereo if you have only a regular CD player. As usual, I listened in the two-channel SACD mode using a Sony SACD player.



The sound is full, clean, and mildly resonant. Thus, we hear a good, lucid response from the instruments while they appear to be in a natural setting. The ambient bloom helps with the production's overall realism, yet it never interferes with the music's clarity. It's a sweet, warm, easy listening sound that puts one in the room with the players.



JJP



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

Vivaldi: Concerti con Titoli (CD review)

Fabio Biondi, Europa Galante. Virgin Veritas 7243-5-45424-2-8.



The diversity of these concertos for assorted instruments (Concerti con Titoli or "Concerts with Titles") contradicts the popular notion that Vivaldi wrote only countless variations of The Four Seasons. Each of the seven concertos presented here is brief, from just under six minutes to just over sixteen, but together they provide a well-rounded idea of the composer's creativity. None of the works is quite as descriptive as The Four Seasons, but each is highly dramatic and fairly evocative, nonetheless.



The opening piece, "L'inquietudine" (Anxiety), is in direct contrast to the penultimate piece on the agenda, "Il Riposo," both for violin and orchestra. The first is agitated and intense, the other sweet and spiritual. The second number, "Concerto funebre" for violin, oboe, chalumeau, viole, and orchestra, illustrates a procession to the gallows and is obviously quite somber in tone.

Fabio Biondi

The most familiar concerto is probably "La tempesta di mare" for recorder, oboe, bassoon, violin, and orchestra, a follow-up to The Four Seasons and describing a boat in a storm. The centerpiece of the program is the six-movement concerto for recorder and orchestra, "La  notte," a wonderfully evocative representation of night and a journey to the netherworld. "Per eco in lontano" for two violins is the longest work included, about sixteen minutes or so, with groups of instruments located in different places. The disc concludes with Concerto RV 531 for two cellos and orchestra, an encounter between the two solo instruments that is quite theatrical.



As always, Fabio Biondi and his period-instrument ensemble Europa Galante play every fast part at a hell-bent-for-leather speed. This style has made Biondi quite popular among some folks in the historically informed segment of the musical world, and it does, indeed, create some invigorating and highly exciting moments. It also gets old really fast. Fortunately, Biondi and his players perform most of the slow sections gracefully and poetically, emphasizing strongly all the contrasts available.



Erato/Virgin Veritas provided Biondi and company with reasonably good, naturally balanced sound for this year 2000 release, sound that does fair justice to the music. However, a quick comparison check against several of my favored Vivaldi recordings--one done on modern instruments by I Solisti Italiani on Denon and the other by the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra on their own label--shows the latter two capturing a more detailed and better-imaged sound stage.



In any case, if you are in the mood for some varied and dramatic Baroque, the Biondi disc fills the request nicely.



JJP



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