title: mostly superb pianism from a 22-year old Barenboim, unfortunately let down by the often indifferent conducting of Somogyi

text:
MCA isn't entirely candid about these recordings: they indicate nowhere that they were made in 1964 - Barenboim was 22 then. They were made for Westminster, in Barenboim's pre-EMI days. He went on, of course, to record the complete concertos and Choral Fantasy with Klemperer and the New Philharmonia ([[ASIN:B000I2ISL8 Beethoven: Piano Concertos 1-5/Choral Fantasia - Daniel Barenboim, Otto Klemperer, New Philharmonia Orchestra & John Alldis Choir]]), and then, later, with the Berlin Phil and himself conducting ([[ASIN:B000002RVN Beethoven - Triple Concerto ~ Choral Fantasy / Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, Berliner Phil., Barenboim]], [[ASIN:B000002SFU Piano Concertos 2 & 3]], [[ASIN:B00004VW03 Beethoven: Piano Concertos Nos. 5 & 4]], and if you want #1 also you'll have to pay a price and duplicate 5, [[ASIN:B001CRGT4Q Beethoven: Piano Concertos]]). MCA's remastering is fine, with tape hiss almost inaudible, and the stereo from the original recording sounding suitably spacious, although the important antiphony between first and second violins in the Choral Fantasy doesn't really register. The strings from the Vienna State Opear Orchestra are surprisingly silky, but some woodwind details were covered in the piano's more pounding moments. The disc has been later reissued by DG in their Westminster Legacy series, [[ASIN:B00005RIH1 Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3]], and it sells irresistibly cheap at the time of writing. I don't know how the sonics compare, but in my experience of other DG/Westminster reissues, they must sound, if anything, even better than those on this MCA release. Anyway I suppose that music lovers and admirers of Barenboim will be attracted more by the notion of hearing young Barenboim than by any digital, HI-FI wizardry.

Barenboim's pianism here is already admirable, eliciting a range of colors and a variety of articulation, including great subtlety in the softer dynamics and a rather abudant staccato that is never percussive, as it can be with Rudolf Serkin. The tempos in the 3rd Piano Concerto are middle-of-the-road and do not attract attention to themselves, but Barenboim is let down unfortunately by Somogyi's uninvolved and excessively mellow conducting, with Beethoven's numerous sf accents in the outer movements hardly registering. This is not so detrimental in the middle Largo, which is as beautiful as anybody's.

In the introductory solo cadenza of the Choral fantasy, Barenboim paradoxically combines a disputable choice to keep the sustaining pedal depressed during the big chordal passages, presumably to lend them grandeur, but only thickening the textures, and an admirable delicacy in the staccato runs. The orchestra enters with a welcome crispness, but again Barenboim's and Somogyi's tempos are inconspicuously middle-of-the road, even laid-back at times (as in the statement by the piano at 5:24 of the famous theme announcing the 9th Symphony's Ode to Joy, followed by the chirping woodwinds), underscoring the music's lyrical strain rather than its dynamism, an impression reinforced by the lack of pungency of the brass in the climaxes and a Marcia (13:56) that is so pedestrian and lacking enthusiasm and bite you would easily think Somogyi was beating time while watching on TV a documentary on fish life. Too bad, as the final chorus is truly excellent, with soloists presumably from the chorus since they are not credited, but excellent, not big voices but sounding young and fresh.

Nothing infamous then, good recordings even of both pieces (and the Choral Fantasy is better than the ponderous remake with Klemperer, see my review of [[ASIN:B00004RITV Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 5/Choral Fantasia]]), but even in 1964 there were more exciting choices for these two works: Serkin and Katchen in the Choral Fantasy, and so many in the 3rd Piano Concerto that they can't be mentioned - but Serkin and Katchen among them: [[ASIN:B0000025U9 Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 37 / Choral Fantasy]], [[ASIN:B00006GE74 Art of Julius Katchen 1]], [[ASIN:B00006GE73 Art of Julius Katchen 2]].


title: major interpretations, worth the splash - but not in these pitiful transfers

text:
I tend to be sceptical about the cult around obscure and forgotten fiddlers, whose icon status seems directly dependent on the unavailability or rarity of their recordings - so that no one can actually check on the hear-say. When finally I get to hear them, I am often disappointed: was that all the splash was about? Not so with Julian Sitkovetzky (as spelled here). On the contrary, based on this CD, with him the hype seems not loud enough.

Julian (or Yulian) Sitkovetzky (more often written Sitkovetsky, but I've even seen it spelled Sitkovecky or Sitkoveckij -, the husband of pianist Bella Davidovitch and father of Dimitry Sitkovetsky, was a Russian-Ukrainian virtuoso born in 1925, whose career was tragically cut short when he died of cancer at the age of 33. Monopole's product info is shamefully wanting - other than a 10-line bio we are just told that the recordings date from 1953 and 1954 (but which we are not told) and the sources are not mentioned. From other releases of the same works it appears that Sibelius is from 1953 and Khachaturian 1954. I've reviewed the Khachaturian at length under one of those other releases, by Russian Disc ([[ASIN:B000001LPO Khachaturian Concerto for violin in Dm; Glazunov: Concerto for violin in Am]]. Note that it is NOT the same performance as the one issued by Artek, volume 5 of their [[ASIN:B000GQL8QS Art of Yulian Sitkovetsky]], which is a 1956 live recording conducted by the composer. The Russian Disc/Monopole performance is an interpretation of fabulous drive in the outer movements, and great lyrical intensity in the slow movement. In fact, the reading is very similar to the dedicatee and first performer's, David Oistrakh: his second studio recording, also made in 1954 with the composer leading the Philharmonia Orchestra in the first two movements ([[ASIN:B000002RTZ Composers in Person: Aram Khachaturian Conducts Masquerade / Gayaneh / Violin Concerto]]) and, in the finale, his live recording with Kubelik at the Prag Festival in 1947 (unfortunately in dismal sound, [[ASIN:B0000034DW Concertos - Liszt/Prokofiev/Khachaturian]]), which is even more dashing (in comparison Oistrakh in 1954 sounds gentle and meek). Sitkovetzky's digital virtuosity in that finale is awesome and, like Oistrakh, his incredible forward drive is never at the expense of tonal control. Worth noting is also the fact that he plays the first movement's cadenza complete - a decision rarely exercised, then (Oistrakh played his own concoction) and still now. It is a live recording, but other than various stage noises in the middle movement and the applause at the end, one has no clue - and certainly not in any finger slip or imprecision from Sitkovetzky. As for the orchestral support, if I had been told it was Leningrad under Mravinsky, I would have believed it: the Romanian Radio Orchestra under "Niyazi" (never heard of him. No first name? But Wikipedia does have an entry, showing that his complete name was Niyazi Zulfigar ogli Tagizade Hajibeyov - no wonder Monople, and maybe the conductor himself, dropped it) plays with tremendous drive, energy, precision and snap.

However, the horrendously shrill, harsh and cavernous acoustics of the Monopole transfer simply rule it out. The Russian Disc transfer is also harsh, but with none of the cavernous sonic perspective that sabotages the Monopole issue.

Interpretively, the Sibelius' Violin Concerto belongs to the same league. Although rarely exercised, the coupling of Sibelius' with Khachaturian's Violin Concerto seems to me a very appropriate choice stylistically, not only because of the sweeping lyricism shared by both compositions, but more to the point because of the Sibelian echoes in Khachaturian's finale. Again the source of this recording isn't indicated by Monopole. It is a studio recording that was first published on Supraphon Mono LPM418, reissued by the same company on CD on [[ASIN:B000024XNR Giants of the Violin]]. I don't have that specific reissue, nor the one published by Aulos/Melodiya ([[ASIN:B0009AHKSG Sibelius, Mozart, Saraste, Paganini - The art of Yulian Sitkovetsky Vol. 1]]), but, by an extraordinary stroke of luck, I've just found (and cheap, too!) a rarity reissue, a 1995 CD published by SYD Records, CYD 006, not listed here, no bar code, volume 6 of a series called "The Art of Yulian Sitkovetsky", which seems to be the source from which Artek licenced their own series - but, God knows why (and lamentably) stopping at volume 5. SYD vol. 6 is invaluable for pairing this Sibelius with the live recording of Sitkovetsky's performance of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto given during the final round of the 1955 Queen Elizabeth Competition in which he got 2nd Prize; a famous anecdote in Sitkovetsky's bio is that Menuhin and Oistrakh were among the jury, and Menuhin later claimed that Sitkovetsky should have received the first prize. That anecdote is recounted in every biography of Sitkovetsky, but nobody ever says who the hapless prize winner was: it was the American Berl Senovsky. Well... Sitkovetsky, Senovsky... maybe the secretary just made a typo. Anyway: collectors and fans of the violin, start posting permanent searches on eBay.

I'm bringing this up not just to have said collectors salivate in envy, but point out again at the botched transfer of Monopole. The SYD transfer is clearly direct from tape and sounds just fine. Monopole is from LP, with dim surface noise and harsh violin tone and saturation in the climaxes. The unavailability of this recording in a good transfer is to be lamented. As with Khachaturian, it is a performance of great urgency and considerable dramatic impact, one very close to the model established by Heifetz in his premiere recording with Beecham in 1935 ([[ASIN:B000009J15 Heifetz : Strauss, Sibelius & Prokofiev]] and reiterated by him in his 1959 stereo remake under Walter Hendl, [[ASIN:B0006PV5U8 Sibelius, Prokofiev, Glazunov: Violin Concertos [Hybrid SACD]]]. There is no enjoying the wide and calm Nordic vistas here, the Concerto is taken not as a panorama of haunting and evocative colors (as it has become in the interpretive tradition that developed from the 1960s onwards), but as a vehicle for violent drama (try the "allegro molto" section in the first movement starting at 4:38). Just to give an idea, Heifetz in 1935 took the first movement in 14:08, he was even faster in 1959 and established something of a record at 13:32. Sitkovetsky runs close second at 13:42 (but without the sense of rush sometimes elicited by Heifetz). Hilary Hahn, the most recent recording to have come my way, takes it in 17:10 ([[ASIN:B0011WMWUW Schoenberg Violin Concerto Op.36/Sibelius Violin Concerto Op.47]]). In the finale, Sitkovetzky is even FASTER than Heifetz in 1959 by four seconds - a feat I thought I'd never encounter - but he also has great rhythmic bounce, and although his double-stop scales followed by octave leaps are not entirely in-sync with the orchestra (and until Hahn, positively nobody's were, even Heifetz sounded scrambled here), his harmonic "whistling" at 4:28 is more assured than Heifetz', and perfect, really. Anossov conducts a powerful and urgent orchestral support (Czech Philharmonic).

If I had one (small) reservation, it is that, for all his fiery approach and incredible digital virtuosity, Sitkovetzky lacks perhaps the ultimate degree of expression, one that both Heifetz and Camilla Wicks ([[ASIN:B000HKDB5E Camilla Wicks (violin) plays Sibelius and Valen: Violin Concertos [Biddulph 80218-2]]]), in two widely contrasted approaches from those days, had in loads. Nonetheless this is, to me, one of the great recordings of Sibelius' Violin Concerto, still today.

The three encores with wife Bella Davidovitch and much better sound (source unknown) are not enough ground to purchase this disc, except maybe as a stopgap (even botched sound is better than nothing for interpretations of such magnitude), until you can find the Russian Disc for Khachaturian and any of the three indicated above for the Sibelius.

And a post-script: as I write, the Art vol. 6 Sibelius/Tchaikovsky is not just listed, but actually sold (and not for a huge amount, even with postage and exchange rate, nothing to deter the determined collector) on Amazon.fr and Amazon.uk, ASIN B000EHSK6K.


title: everything you can expect from these two soloists

text:
It is almost surprising that Menuhin would have waited until the end of his career, November 1984 exactly, to record Brahms' Double Concerto: that's 35 years after his first recording of the Violin Concerto, under Furtwängler, at the 1949 Lucerne Festival. And live recordings which have surfaced in the CD era show that he had been performing it since at least the mid 1960s (There's a performance from June 10 1964 from the Bath Festival with Gendron and the London Symphony Orchestra under Istvan Kertesz on BBC Legends ([[ASIN:B001ND9BLM Double Concerto / Triple Concerto]]), and the same label published a concert from the same month  - June 30, 1964 - with the same orchestra but now at the Royal Albert Hall with Rostropovich and  Colin Davis, [[ASIN:B000050HYB Brahms: Double Concerto / Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto / Bach: Violin Concerto in E]]). As for Tortelier, he had already recorded it in 1962, on HMV, with Christian Ferras and Paul Kletzki, [[ASIN:B00016ZKQW Violin Concerto / Double Concerto]] (reissued by Testament).

Well, the recording is what you can expect from these two performers and from that conductor, Paavo Berglund, not noted for the great dynamism of his Sibelius interpretations, and you can hear it from the introductory orchestral measures: grand, majestic, powerful in a solemn way. Given Menuhin's early association with Furtwängler and his fascination with this conductor, it comes as no surprise that the approach should be very similar to the German conductor's, in his live 1952 recording with Boskovsky and Brabec ([[ASIN:B00000DO5O Furtwangler Conducts Brahms: Violin Concerto (Menuhin) & Double Concerto (Boskovsky, Brabec)]]), all the way to the very moderately-paced Finale, played with a kind of rustic vigor rather than propulsive dynamism. This is very much a "Germanic" approach, the one first illustrated on record by Carl Schuricht in 1947 with Kulenkampff and Mainardi, and brought to points of extreme in the 1980s by Karajan and Bernstein, and in the 1990s by Harnoncourt (additional product links in the comments section).

That this "Germanic", an even "Teutonic" approach has become an interpretive norm and habit today shouldn't lead us to forget that there was an other interpretive tradition in the early days, best exemplified by Toscanini (with his NBC soloists Mischa Mischakoff and Frank Miller),  Heifetz (with Feuermann and Ormandy in 1939, and still in 1960 with Piatigorsky under Wallenstein), Reiner (with Milstein and Piatigorsky in 1951) and in Oistrakh's first recording with Knushevitzky and the Leningrad Philharmonic under Karl Eliasberg in 1948, which played the Double Concerto as a fiery and heroic composition and that, to me, is not only more faithful to the composer's message, but way more exciting.

But whatever one's (or my) reservations with the Germanic interpretive approach, the performers here aren't as extreme as some of their successors, and give it a good realization: although it's hard to recognize that, among all the great violinists who recorded Brahms' Double Concerto (but the ageing Szigeti never did), Menuhin is the most problematical, never sounding totally at ease with the part's greatest technical difficulties, with a bow that can sound "sticky" and a tone that can be a bit husky sometimes especially on the lower notes, he is at least reasonably free from the screeches and strange quirks of phrasing that could mar some of his later performances (there is however a very bizarre hiccup at the beginning of his introductory cadenza, at 1:34), he and Tortelier play with total commitment and, in the outer movements, with the energy and muscularity required to avoid any sense of ponderousness, and if the lyricism in the first movement is tender rather than passionate, the slow movement is deeply felt and lyrical. Berglund compensates with power and sweep what he looses in drive and explosiveness, and all the orchestral details come through.

The Delius Double Concerto with the same two soloists, now with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under Meredith Davies, makes a rare but apt pairing. It was recorded in June 1976 and originally came out with Menuhin's recording of Delius' Violin Concerto (now aptly mated with Menuhin's stereo remake of Elgar's Violin Concerto with Adrian Boult, [[ASIN:B00000DOCV Menuhin Plays Elgar & Delius]]). It's a rare work on disc: this version was only its second recording, after the one made in 1965 for Pye by Gerald Warburg, Raymond Cohen and the same Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under Norman del Mar, and reissued by PRT in the early days of the CD ([[ASIN:B000VLTLOY Frederick Delius Double Concerto for Violin & and Cello; Alan Bush Variations Nocturn & Finale on an Old English Sea-song]]). Since then, only three more have appeared, including one in Lionel Tertis' arrangement for violin and viola: Tasmin Little and Raphael Wallfisch under Sir Charles with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic in July 1991 on EMI Classics for Pleasure ([[ASIN:B00006YX7J Paris Song of a Great City]]), Philippe Graffin and Sarah-Jane Bradley on Dutton, [[ASIN:B002E9T1WS Delius: Hiawatha, Suite for Violin and Orchestra, Legende for Violin and Orchestra, Double Concerto for Violin, Viola, and Orchestra, Caprice and Elegy for Viola & Orchestra]] (the Tertis version), and Tasmin Little again, now with Paul Watkins and the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Andrew Davis, a recent Chandos SACD recorded in October 2010 ([[ASIN:B005JA9UG6 Delius: Double Concerto; Violin Concerto; Cello Concerto]]).

Written in 1915 or 1916 (sources differ) and a work of its composer's maturity, the Double Concerto is everything you expect from that composer, especially if you are already familiar with the Violin Concerto from the same year(s), which has slightly more currency thanks to the early recordings of its premiere performer Albert Sammons (1944 with Sargent) and of Jean Pougnet with Sir Thomas Beecham in 1946 (and Tasmin Little also made two recordings, with the same two conductors as her Double Concertos, links in the comments): one long (here 21:27) songful, all-out romantic melody, heart-on-sleeve lyrical, often intense and emotional in its lyricism but never brutal and aggressive, with an orchestra that, except for a few dialogues with solo woodwinds, remains always in the role of a background support, never that of a confrontational sparring-partner. One of the most remarkable features of Delius' writing is that you can't really say that the two soloists "dialogue" with each other: they don't toss around phrases, they constantly sing together, as if cello and violin were one single instrument spanning five octaves. As the Violin Concerto I don't think the Double Concerto is a masterpiece - it runs too much in the same sentimental and lyrical mood and lacks a few edges for that - but it is certainly a masterpiece in its limited genre and mood and its soaring lyricism certainly offers its rewards.

The premiere recording under Norman Del Mar was a fine version, with a very natural sonic pickup in which the two soloists didn't artificially protrude but were embedded into the orchestral texture, Symphony concertante-like. The cost was that the cello was sometimes covered by the violin. The EMI recording is the exact opposite: the two soloists are right in your ears and you lose nothing of either, but the woodwinds especially are often inaudible, making it all sound, to an extent, like a sonata for violin and cello with a vague orchestral filling. Menuhin and Tortelier offer a committed, impassioned performance, but so emotional and so spotlighted by the recording pickup to the detriment of the orchestral surrounding as to sentimentalize the music a touch more than it needs to be. For the anecdote, at 18:51, near the end, there is a bizarre flutter on Menuhin's high E, and I don't know if it is his doing (but surely they would have made a patch), or a problem in the original recording, or the transfer.

TT 56 minutes, and whatever my reservations this is mandatory for the fans of Menuhin, Tortelier, and Delius.


title: what matters is not the outward appearances but the inner riches

text:
The CD's presentation is reduced to a minimum: if you collect it all in a coherent whole, you'll know that the two compositions are Alan Bush's Variations, Noctun [no final e] and Finale on an old English Sea-song played by David Wild, piano (more about this hereunder) and John Snashall (ever heard of them?) conducting the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, and Frederick Delius' Double Concerto for Violin and Cello by Raymond Cohen (violin), Gerald Warburg (cello) and the RPO again but now under Norman Del Mar. A copyright year of 1966 and a cryptic "Melicoco" as holder of the copyright are given and that's all, nothing is said of the source of the recording. The label number is given on the spine, PVCD 8372, but even the label isn't clear, although yes, it's printed in very small type on the booklet's back cover: PRT or Precision Records and Tapes, with a copyright for release of 1984, and barcode 5011664837227 (but I suspect that there's a barcode because my copy is a later reissue). No liner notes whatsoever, even precise track listing isn't given, so the only way to know for sure if you are in Bush or Delius is listening to the soloists. The fact that there are only two tracks, one per composition, helps dispel any ambiguity too.

Well, PRT was a label established by Michael Dutton, who went on later to create Dutton records. PRT lauched its first CDs in 1987 in fact (I'm supposing the 1984 copyright indications refers to a previous LP reissue by PRT, although I haven't found trace of one)... and apparently the last ones too: there was a first batch of circa 30 CDs and it never seemed to go further. Dutton tapped from the mono and stereo catalogs of Pye and Westminster, with fine recordings by Boult (Brahms, Elgar, Holst, Walton, Vaughan Williams, Sibelius), Barbirolli (Beethoven, Brahms, Mahler, Elgar, Vaughan Williams) or Scherchen (Berlioz, Rimsky, Tchaikovsky), in excellent transfers. It's the same transfers I believe that Dutton used when the Barbirolli recordings were later reissued under the auspices of the Barbirolli Society.

Well, it's like our parents said (and we didn't listen): don't judge after the outward appearances, what counts are the riches inside.

The invaluable website of the Delius Trust and Delius Society permits to flesh out the scanty information given about the Double Concerto. This was its premiere recording, made in September 1965 and first issued on Pye, Golden Guinea Collector Series, GSGL 14073. The Bush Variations were the original pairing (I've found the LP on eBay and there, the "Nocturn" was called "Nocturne"). The work has remained rare on disc, still today, with only three more recordings since: Menuhin-Tortelier-RPO-Meredith Davies for EMI in June 1976 (on EMI Studio, paired with Brahms' Double, [[ASIN:B00B47FY0Y Brahms / Delius: Double Concertos]]), Tasmin Little and Raphael Wallfish under Charles Mackerras with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic in July 1991 on EMI Classics for Pleasure ([[ASIN:B00006YX7J Paris Song of a Great City]]), and Tasmin Little again, now with Paul Watkins and the BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Andrew Davies, a recent Chandos SACD recorded in October 2010 ([[ASIN:B005JA9UG6 Delius: Double Concerto; Violin Concerto; Cello Concerto]]). Note the ongoing expansion of the space-time continuum: 11 years' wait for the second recording, 15 for the second, circa 20 for the third, so it's easy to predict when the next will come (no, this is just for jest. It works only because I omitted the 2009 recording of the arrangement for Violin and Viola of Lionel Tertis, by Philippe Graffin and Sarah-Jane Bradley on Dutton, [[ASIN:B002E9T1WS Delius: Hiawatha, Suite for Violin and Orchestra, Legende for Violin and Orchestra, Double Concerto for Violin, Viola, and Orchestra, Caprice and Elegy for Viola & Orchestra]]).

Written in 1915 or 1916 (sources differ) and a work of its composer's maturity, Delius' Double Concerto is everything you expect from that composer, especially if you are already familiar with the Violin Concerto from the same year(s), which has slightly more currency thanks to the early recordings of its premiere performer Albert Sammons (1944 with Sargent, I have it on Dutton, [[ASIN:B0000TCP8Q Sammons Plays Delius & Elgar]]) and of Jean Pougnet with Sir Thomas Beecham in 1946, [[ASIN:B00000DO9F Violin Concerto]] (and Tasmin Little also made two recordings, with the same two conductors as her Double Concertos, [[ASIN:B00000E4Y5 Frederick Delius Violin Concerto et al Tasmin Little (Argo)]], and on the same 2010 Chandos CD as above): one long (here 21:27) songful, all-out romantic melody, heart-on-sleeve lyrical, often intense and emotional in its lyricism but never brutal and aggressive, with an orchestra that, except for a few dialogues with solo woodwinds, remains always in the role of a background support, never that of a confrontational sparring-partner. One of the most remarkable features of Delius' writing is that you can't really say that the two soloists "dialogue" with each other: they don't toss around phrases, they constantly sing together, as if cello and violin were one single instrument spanning five octaves. As the Violin Concerto I don't think the Double Concerto is a masterpiece - it runs too much in the same sentimental and lyrical mood and lacks a few edges for that - but it is certainly a masterpiece in its limited genre and mood and its soaring lyricism certainly offers its rewards.

Norman Del Mar is a noted conductor of British music, but I had never heard of the two soloists, Raymond Cohen and Gerald Warburg. Proof again that you don't have to be well-known to be a fine musician. Score in hand, the performers respond with admirable precision, beautiful tone and great musicality to the myriad changes of tempo and mood, the sonics and transfer are great, the recording pickup is very natural, meaning that the two soloists are embedded into the orchestral sound rather than artificially sticking out of it, the cello is sometimes covered by the violin and some of the woodwind solos are occasionally covered by the soloists, but nothing essential is amiss. Ten years later, Menuhin and Tortelier's impassioned reading was strongly spotlighted by EMI's sonic pickup: nothing of the cello was lost, but the woodwinds could barely be heard, and the two soloists' undue prominence and very emotional playing turned the concerto almost into a sonata for violin and cello, which their highly emotional playing sentimentalized a little too much for its own good. Ultimately I find that Cohen and Warburg's greater restraint and their more embedded presence into the orchestra's texture, Symphonie concertante-like, serves the composition better.

The disc's main interest is Delius' Concerto I think, and it certainly was for me. The Alan Bush Music Trust provides the desired info about the composer's Variations NocturnE (indeed) and Finale. It was composed in 1962 and premiered at the Cheltenham Festival in July 1965 by the same David Wilde (and not "Wild" as the CD has it) who performs it here, under Meredith Davies (by coincidence, the conductor of Menuhin and Tortelier's Delius... ). "The theme is an 18th century whalemen's ballad called 'Blow, ye winds'; and it is followed by 13 variations, of which the last three are in the style of piano studies, with orchestral accompaniment. The next movement is a Nocturne, which `evokes the nostalgia of a long voyage', while the Finale suggests 'the excitement, dangers and glory of a triumphant chase`. In these two movements, as in the variations, the musical material is derived from the ballad theme". It is an agreeable piece that breaks no grounds and plumbs no depths, developing, in the course of its 20 minutes, what could be considered to be a safe and traditional 20th century language even if the piece had been composed 20 years earlier, around a theme strongly evocative of the kind of music Percy Grainger made music with. But it has moments of fine and hazy atmospheres produced by the piano resonance, and its toccata-like variations and Finale have an exciting sweep.

At the time of writing the CD is sold cheaper under its other entry, [[ASIN:B000VLTLOY Frederick Delius Double Concerto for Violin & and Cello; Alan Bush Variations Nocturn & Finale on an Old English Sea-song]].


title: mahler for those who like to think different (and don't mind a scrappy orchestra)

text:
Hermann Scherchen didn't belong to the "first generation" of Mahler conductors documented on records, those who, like Willem Mengelberg, Bruno Walter, Otto Klemperer or Oscar Fried, had direct contact with the composer. But he did belong at least to the "second" generation, those early champions of Mahler from the 1920s onwards, along with Carl Schuricht, Leopold Stokowski (who, despite never working with Mahler, attended the premiere of the 8th Symphony in Munich in 1910), Charles Adler (though his Wikipedia entry claims that he was one of the chorus conductors in the Mahler-conducted premiere of the 8th Symphony in September 1910, Henri-Louis de la Grange nowhere mentions his name in his mammoth biography), Hans Rosbaud, Dimitri Mitropoulos, Eduard Flipse, Jascha Horenstein, William Steinberg, Eugene Ormandy, John Barbirolli (but Barbirolli is really a "third generation" Mahlerite, since he didn't come to the composer until the late 1950s), Paul Kletzki and Maurice Abravanel. Scherchen made pioneering recordings of Mahler symphonies for the label Westminster in the early 1950s (symphonies 1, 2, 5, 7, Adagio of the 10th, Kindertotenlieder and Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen) and Columbia also released a live recording of the 8th from 1952, a premiere on record (Stokowski's off-the-air recording from New York in 1950 was issued on LP only later). Those were times of scarcity, when new recordings of Mahler symphonies didn't throng by the dozen every month; some of those Westminster recordings were LP premieres (5th) or seconds (7th) and soon became much sought-after collector items. On the oher hand Scherchen never made studio recordings of symphonies 3, 4, 6 and 9, although live recordings of 3 and 6 surfaced in the recent years. Likewise, the value of the present disc - a recording for the Austrian radio, made without an audience in studio conditions with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra on June 19, 1950, published by Orfeo in 1990 - is that it is Scherchen's only testimonial in Mahler's last finished symphony.

In 1950 the only recorded precedent was Walter's live 1938 recording, which at that time had not yet been reissued on LP([[ASIN:B000002S0R Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 9 In D Major (Great Recordings of the Century)]]); Horenstein's Vox recording, made with the same Vienna Symphony Orchestra as here, was still two years in the making ([[ASIN:B000001KC5 Mahler: Symphony 9 and Kindertotenlieder / Norman Foster / Jascha Horenstein (2 CDs)]]). So it may not be a surprise that Scherchen's approach comes closer to Walter's in 1938 than to any subsequent version. Not in the first movement, though. Scherchen was always, and in any repertoire, a maverick, a highly personal, if not wayward interpreter, and here he is exactly that, to the hilt. Under Scherchen's baton that first movement is no autumnal leave-taking or melancholy meditation on love and the world interrupted by violent outbursts. For whatever validity such highly subjective images may have, it is a passionate and violent love song. Not Mahler's farewell to the world while still under the shock of the death of his daughter and the news of his heart ailment, but (despite the anachronism) Alma's love affair with Walter Gropius (which started and was discovered by Mahler only after the completion of the symphony, but whose pain inflicted upon him suffuses the manuscript of the unfinished 10th). It is not that the movement flows, as it did with Walter in 1938: it runs, it rushes (try the section starting with the first outburst, at 1:27, measure 29). It is a torrent gushing forth, to the point, at times, of dangerously verging on the caricature. Just to give an idea, Scherchen's first movement clocks at 21:03. Compare that to Walter's 1938 version - by all means a very swift reading, but still totalling 24:40 -, to Walter's 1961 remake (29:14, [[ASIN:B000002A7K Mahler: Symphony No. 9 & Rehearsal]]), or to Bernstein in 1965 (28:15, [[ASIN:B00000C298 Mahler: Symphony No. 9 (Bernstein Century)]]). Where Scherchen is more "in the norm"  and where you recognize the 9th you thought you knew is in some of the movement's slower passages, such as the "schattenhaft" (shadowy) starting at 10:36 (measure 254) or the "gehalten" (held back) at 13:10 (measure 321), where he conveys the sense of an ominous menace and of a"schwerer Kondukt" (heavy funeral procession - despite the trumpet's wrong notes), reaching great intensity and pathos at the "answachsend" (swelling, rising) passage at 14:45 (measure 350).

We are in more familiar territory in Scherchen's Ländler, which follows the interpretive model established by Walter in 1938 and pursued by Horenstein in 1952 and Walter again in his 1961 stereo remake, with a deliberate Tempo I and saucy instrumental character establishing a mood of good-humored bonhomie. Scherchen's acceleration at 10:52 ("allmählich in Tempo II übergehen", move progressively to Tempo II) starts a bit brutally but develops very effectively, a Coney Island merry-go-round turning wild, although his hectic arrival tempo (disregarding Mahler's "doch nie überhetzt" instruction, "but never too hectic"), as exhilarating as it is, forces Scherchen to brutally slam the breaks at 12:35 (on the rising horn theme reminisced from the first movement, measure 515) without any indication of Mahler to do so. Scherchen's furious Rondo-Burleske will shock those nursed on Bruno Walter's more deliberate 1961 remake, but it is not without precedent - in fact it is remarkably close to Walter's approach in 1938 - or sequel (starting with Leopold Ludwig in 1959 for Everest, an unjustly neglected recording, [[ASIN:B0000023HN Symphony 9]]), and I happen to firmly believe that this approach is closer to Mahler's tempo/character indication ("Allegro assai. Sehr trotzig": very allegro, very defiant) and, presumably, intentions. But in the B section (starting at 5:25), Scherchen is extremely flexible in tempo - stress on "extreme" - changing at times from bar to bar. Though those tempo changes are not prescribed by Mahler, I have nothing against them, first because Mahler himself is reported (by Hermann Martone, violinist of the New York Philharmonic who had played under his baton, interviewed by William Malloch in 1960 on the occasion of the centenary of Mahler's birth, quoted in Henry-Louis de La Grange) to have possessed above all flexibility, to have claimed a certain freedom in tempo, and to have said something to the effect that the interpreter should take note of the indications of the score, but then play according to feeling ("the difference between freedom and slavery is only a tiny nuance (...). It is precisely what the composer demands! Not the composer, no, but the composition"); and second because Scherchen's way is very effective: listen how he shapes the phrases to great feeling at 6:44 ("mit grosser Empfindung", measure 394), then works up the tempo to a great passionate surge for a few bars at 7:10 (measure 409), only to slam the breaks again at 7:22 (measure 418); and this is only one example of his many expressive rubati in this section.

Again the finale will shock those who reject Walter's 1938 interpretation as "too fast" and unfeeling and who view that finale as the expression of an autumnal leave-taking. Scherchen is even faster than Walter (overall his movement is a couple of minutes longer, but only because he takes the final pages very slowly), and still more flexible in tempo. Understandably, until those final pages, he highlights more the passionate aspect of the movement, playing to the full its "straffer im tempo" (tighter), "etwas drängend" (somewhat pressing), "fliessender" (more flowing) indications more than the "ganz langsam/molto adagio" (very slow) ones, which he always keeps flowing. It takes a change of expectation to fully appreciate what he (like Walter) is doing here: no farewell to the world, but a passionate paean of love to the world. But then, in the final pages, from roughly 14:38 onwards (measure 147), Scherchen fully plays Mahler's "time suspended" atmosphere, bringing the symphony to a conclusion that would have been even more beautifully appeased if it hadn't been somewhat marred by poor violin ensemble in the high-pitched ethereal phrases..

Of course the 1950s mono sonics are limitative, the volume is cut way too low on Orfeo's transfer (I've had to crank it up almost twice as high as I usually do) and many instrumental details get lost, particularly the felicitous 1st and 2nd violin antiphony in the outer movements. The orchestra simply can't follow their conductor's mad beat, especially in the first movement (Scherchen, quoted in the liner notes, complained about lack of rehearsal time and the orchestra's hectic schedule, working with him in the morning, Clemens Krauss in the afternoon and Karajan in the evening; but any orchestra would have been strained by such a crazy rush): in the runs the strings scramble to keep roughly together (and the poor ensemble in the ethereal, high-pitched final moments of the is due to no problem of tempo), the brass occasionally hit wrong notes, the cellos forget to enter at one point in the Ländler (the orchestra is much better in the Rondo-Burleske). This is not a version for technical perfectionists, but for amateurs of strong and original conducting personalities.

Despite the orchestra's poor performance, there is much to value in Scherchen's interpretation of the last three movements, although much in them is likely to ruffle the feathers of many Mahler fans, especially those not too keen on Walter's 1938 recording. The opening movement is more problematic. Obviously, it is a reading like no one else's. Is it true to Mahler's intentions? I strongly doubt it. Is it valid in its own terms? Appreciation will depend on the value associated to an interpretation being out of bounds. I think most listeners and lovers of Mahler's 9th will be shocked and will hate it, because it assaults too violently too many listening habits and expectations we have on the music. Reviewing the CD in the January 1991 issue of the French magazine Diapason, Henry-Louis de la Grange loathed all of it (concluding his review with "better laugh than cry", "mieux vaut en rire qu'en pleurer"), and I am not a bit surprised. But if you value eccentricity and the "alternative" view, you'll hardly find more eccentric and alternative than this.


title: the works of Richard Stoker are well worth a listen - and even a few re-listens

text:
Never heard of Richard Stoker (born 1938 and still alive as I write) before chancing on this CD, sold cheap by an eBay seller with whom I had purchased other stuff. I took my chance, more on the basis of the label, Priory, a small British indie mainly specialized in church and organ music, and the pianist, Eric Parkin, whom I've already heard on other CDs.

Well, good draw.

Stoker is a british composer, student of Lennox Berkeley and Nadia Boulanger, and later professor of composition at the Royal Acadmey of Music from 1963 to 1987. But ge is also much more than that: pianist, conductor, writer ("of lyrics, plays, novels, short stories, poetry and libretti"), painter/visual artist (the CD's cover reproduces one of his paintings) and even movie and TV actor ("he has appeared in over 100 films worldwide" claims his entry on Wikipedia, including a role in the recent Walt Disney "Maleficent"). My hunch is that this is exactly why Stoker is unknown in all those fields: it's an old rule that when you follow too many paths rather than doggedly plow a single furrow, you'll fail in all. There is an informative series of articles on Stoker on Musicweb International.

To be honest, not all of the piano music featured here is interesting. The opening cycle, Piano Serenade op. 17, from 1962, may sound inconspicuous enough, and did to me on first hearing, from gently wistful to insouciantly playful, something Poulenc might have composed, or any of the numerous very backward-looking composers who inhabited the British Isles in the 20th century before the tunnel was dug, protected from any outside influence, although, coming back to it in the light of some of the heavier stuff that follows, the introductory piece, Prelude, shows a whimsicality that goes beyond the merely decorative, and the very sparseness of the following Air, much of it a 2-part invention, is an intriguing feature. A Poet's Notebook op. 19 from 1969, another suite of six short pieces, continues in much the same (two) moods and very traditional language. Regency Suite op. 15, which gathers pieces composed between 1952 (Stoker was 13) and 1959, veers between Prokofiev's Visions Fugitives and, in the concluding Toccata, Debussy's Pour le Piano and Ravel's Tombeau de Couperin.

I first misread the track listing and thought I was listening to the Zodiac Variations, and wrote that it "sounds like lounge music improvised by The Pianist for inattentive patrons". Well, no: they were the "Two Jazz Preludes" op. 63 from 1980 (tracks 21 and 22). Well, the first one sounds like lounge music improvised by The Pianist for inattentive patrons", and the second like a lullaby to put baby asleep. There are a few more interesting moments and more pianistic invention in the series of very short variations that make up the Zodiac Variations op. 22 from 1965, like the ringing second to fourth variations Leo, Pisces and Aries, the terse and dramy two-part writing of variation 5 Gemini, the bouncing capriciousness of  var. 7 Sagittarius: and the very shortness of these variations (the longest runs 45 seconds, the shortest 20) is one of those interesting and original features. There's nothing that breaks any new grounds here, but the music is not run-of-the-mill either and Stoker makes his expressive points eloquently.

But the First Sonata (1967) and the Variations opus 45 (1973) are two great pieces, serious, austere and grand, absolutely not "flashy", anchored in tonality but bordering on atonality, close to what other British composers, Tippett, Hoddinnott, Mathias, may have written in the same years. The Sonata's construction in two movements, Ritmico and Riposo, is inspired by Beethoven's op. 90 and op. 111, but it recalled the second Sonatas of Tippett or Mathias (although these are both couched in a single movement).

Parts of the second Sonata, written for Eric Parkin in 1992, are more overtly virtuosic and flashy, and especially its first movement, "Suonare" (in reference to the Italian sense of the word, "to sound" or "peal" as in bells ringing, but it's an equally serious affair and even, at times, thorny, jagged, dissonant and aggressive. The Sonata "reflects an interest in jazz writing and performance", but, despite very allusive references at the beginning of the Sonata, it's more in its processes than in it's melodic shape that Stoker took his inspiration from jazz, in that in movements two and four, called "Cantare" 1 and 2, "the parameters are not defined, much being left to the performer". The central movement, Scherzare, like the first movement and Finale a fast Toccata-type of movenent, sounds like Debussy on cocaine.

Those works of Richard Stoker are well worth a listen, and even re-listens and more performances. TT 79:39. The mikes have captured a soft traffic rumble in the background.


title: find it cheaper under its official entry

text: Here's another entry for a disc which you will probably find cheaper under its official entry, [[ASIN:B000003ELH Martland: Danceworks / Principia / Patrol]]. It features three compositions, Danceworks and Principia played by the Steve Martland Band, which are brass-dominated, brilliant, energetic and syncopated dance pieces reminiscent of Steve Reich and not my preferred Martland. Patrol however is something else, a lengthy string quartet (32 minutes), quite unique in Martland's oeuvre, dominated by music that is often slow-moving and poignantly dirge-like in atmosphere, besides the typical dance-like and syncopated moments so typical of the composer. See my review under the other entry for more details.


title: One of the best introductions to the Dances from "Terpsichore"

text: ...but unless you read only Japanese, best go to the Western editions, that sell much cheaper: [[ASIN:B000004CXG Praetorius: Dances from Terpsichore]] or [[ASIN:B000SNUI4W Dances From Terpsichore 1612]].


title: Groslot the composer is well worth exploring, and this is where you should start

text:
The Belgian Robert Groslot is an interesting artist, pianist (and his recorded representation includes Messiaen's [[ASIN:B00008F33K Vingt Regards Sur L'Enfant Jesus]],  and Crumb's [[ASIN:B004ROY1SM Makrokosmos Vol. I & II]], among other rarities), composer, arranger, but also graphic illustrator (from the little I've seen I'm not so convinced about the quality of his inspiration in this domain). I've found his orchestrations of Scarlatti Sonatas on [[ASIN:B00R63OA9Q A Scarlatti Festival]] or [[ASIN:B000025486 Il Novecento Plays Scarlatti: Sonata Fantasia]] very skillful and hugely entertaining, and two other discs of his "own" compositions, [[ASIN:B0049RJ0F6 Arco Baleno play works by Robert Groslot]] and [[ASIN:B00002547Y Robert Groslot: Works for Clarinet]], not earth-shaking, but interesting and enjoyable. This one is the best one to date.

Black Venus, completed in 1994, is based on a famous Flemish novel by Jef Geeraerts, "Gangren I - Black Venus", published in the late 1960s, about the horrors of Belgian colonialism in Congo. In the liner notes Groslot says that the music roughly follows the book's structure, but you don't need to know anything about the narrative to enjoy the music. It is powerful and dramatic, sufficiently modern but not intractably so, sometimes no more advanced than Britten or Tippett, and sometimes more than that, with great orchestral/timbral imagination, sometimes, in its propulsive dynamism, evocative of the new American symphonists like Michael Torke, with some touches of eclecticism to it (passing references to world music and repetitive minimalism, especially at the beginning) and some moments of ghostly atmospheric subtlety (track 8).

Much the same can be said about The Great Globe, written much in the same style. Its date of composition is not given, but it was inspired by Peter Greenaway's film Prospero's Books, after Shakespeare's The Tempest. It is both a series of vignettes, each evoking one of the imaginary books of magic in Prospero's library, and a continuous symphony roughly following an arch of slow and mysterous introduction (tracks 11-12), fast and dramatic (13 15), slow and appeased (16-18), mixture of fast-dramatic and slow-mysterious (19-22). Together with the tension-filled drama, the propulsive dynamism and the moments of hushed mystery, its "slow and appeased" movement displays great lyricism as well (track 16 to 18).

Groslot the composer is well-worth exploring, and this (together with his Scarlatti arrangements) is where you should start. TT 58 minutes. My edition comes with the jewel case inserted in a cardboard box, with the 28-page booklet in four languages (one being Dutch or Flemish) inserted in between, so if you buy, make sure you get the complete thing and not just the disc in the jewel case with no liner notes. TT 58:06


title: budding saxophonists, beware: saxophone doesn't pay (but it's a land of opportunities)

text:
Budding sax players, take note: saxophone doesn't pay. Or so you think when you read the bio of Karen Wylie, one of the members of Fairer Sax, a female sax quartet that was founded at the end of the 1980s: she "was born in Houston, Texas" and "was started on saxophone by her father, a music teacher, at the age of eleven (...). She studied saxophone with Doctor Frederick Hemke at Northwestern University, Chicago 1983-1987, gaining the Bachelor of Music degree. After graduation , she spent some time as a freelance musician and teacher in the Chicago area, performing as a soloist with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra and a Contemporary Music group, Kapture." Okay, so far so good and very much in the norm. But then comes the twist: "She was working as a private investigator when invited to join The Fairer Sax in January 1989".

Private Investigator? That's what you do when you're a trained saxophonist?

And not just. I was trying to find some info about the fates of Fairer Sax on the Internet - and didn't, wasn't able to establish when they disbanded. But I did look up Karen Wylie, and you know what she's doing today? She manages an insurance agency in Cypress, Texas (and YES, it IS the same Karen Wylie, formerly ""Dr. Wylie", where [she] taught saxophone at the University of Houston's Moores School of Music").

Anyway. This must have beenn one of their first recital discs (haven't checked to establish their exact discography), in a program of easy-listening arrangements of music from 1920s jazz to 1970s pops (Earth Wind And Fire and Fleetwood Mac), with the addition, in some tracks, of percussion, keyboards and bass guitar. If you are interested in arrangements (I always am, always a refreshing way to hear the old warhorses in new timbral guise) and those styles of music, this is for you. I personally find the music's jollity and light-heartedness a bit forced and contrived. I probably would have preferred a more "substantial" program of transcriptions of "real" classical music, but that's my taste. TT 60+. You may want to check for the best price under the disc's other entry, [[ASIN:B000OC2NYK The Fairer Sax: Blowing Hot and Cool]].


title: interesting and enjoyable

text:
The Belgian Robert Groslot is an interesting artist, pianist (and his recorded representation includes Messiaen's [[ASIN:B00008F33K Vingt Regards Sur L'Enfant Jesus]],  and Crumb's [[ASIN:B004ROY1SM Makrokosmos Vol. I & II]], among other rarities), composer, arranger, but also graphic illustrator (from the little I've seen I'm not so convinced about the quality of his inspiration in this domain). I've found his orchestrations of Scarlatti Sonatas on [[ASIN:B00R63OA9Q A Scarlatti Festival]] or [[ASIN:B000025486 Il Novecento Plays Scarlatti: Sonata Fantasia]] very skillful and hugely entertaining, and another disc of his "own" compositions, [[ASIN:B0049RJ0F6 Arco Baleno play works by Robert Groslot]], not earth-shaking, but interesting and enjoyable. This one is even more.

"Achaé, la docile amie" (a pun on the notes la do si la mi, translating in German musical notation into A-C-H-A-E: the French si - English B is called H in German, with letter B in German reserved to the English Bflat, si bémol) is a series of variations for clarinet and orchestra on Paganini's famous 24th Caprice. You'll easily hear that it sounds like some Lutoslawski on cocaine (and I'm referring here, naturally, to Lutoslawski's own and early Paganini Variations), even before reading that Groslot does indeed confess a debt to Lutoslawski's own set of variations. There's also a lush orchestral moment at 4:40 sounding like Ravel's L'Enfant et les Sortilèges on cocaine.

"Gardens of the Villa d'Este" for voice and clarinet choir is very atmospheric, with the subtle, sensuous, hushed colors of the clarinet ensemble providing a carpet for the soprano's wordless vocalises, here sounding as if from a distance. Groslot calls it "the translation of a dream to sound", and you can sense that. The piece does tend to go circles after a while, milking the same atmosphere for over 13 minutes (I don't know if my own dreams last that long), but atmospheric it certainly is. Because of its very similar instrumental ensemble, the Tunnel for clarinet quartet (track 7) develops the same kind of atmospheres. Track 9 features the same piece but in its version for clarinet and piano, making it sound more angular.

The four pieces on tracks 3-6 illustrate a lighter side of Groslot, the transcriber of the keyboard Sonatas of Scarlatti, which I had already encountered in the above-mentioned Vanguard CD. They are very entertaining, although the orchestration, here reduced to two clarinets and strings, affords less coruscating variety than those on Groslot's Scarlatti CD. "I Colli Senesi" for two clarinets also sounds like it could be a Scarlatti transcription - this is something that will strike your ear even before you read the piece's subtitle, "in the style of D. Scarlatti". The Dance Preludes, again an early piece of Lutoslawski, here played in Groslot's arrangement for clarinet and clarinet choir, also illustrates the lighter and Bartok-derived side (and the lighter Bartok too of the Dance-Suite) of the Polish composer.

TT 64:14 (says my CD player, not the 63:42 indicated on the back cover), the disc is entertaining, Achaé, I Giardini and The Tunnel are the most valuable pieces on the program.


title: flashy virtuosity and little musical substance: I'll happily return!

text:
This is my first encounter with these two concertos, and while Melcer and his First Piano Concerto are rare indeed on disc (but there are a few other versions listed on this website, paired with his Second Concerto, [[ASIN:B000Z6OLOK Melcer: Piano Concertos Nos 1 & 2/ Romantic Piano Cto 44]], [[ASIN:B0018Q3Y30 Henryk Melcer - Piano Concerts No. 1 & 2]]), Paderewski's has had a number of other incarnations on disc since the premiere recording, still in the 78s era, by Jesus-Maria Sanroma and Arthur Fiedler ([[ASIN:B00005KB58 Piano Masters: Jesus Maria Sanroma, Vol. 2]]), all of which obviously I haven't heard, so I won't be able to give an informed opinion about the interpretations. This, then, will be a temporary and tentative review, but I've liked the two Concertos enough that I'll probably want to return.

Without ever having heard it, I was somewhat prejudiced against Paderewski's Piano Concerto. I saw it as one of those big hollow vehicles for superhuman fingers like those of Earl Wild, Michael Ponti or Marc-André Hamelin, full of flashy pianistic virtuosity and little musical content, and with an orchestra reduced to the role of a mere carpet, a kind of sub-par Rachmaninoff - and I'm not so friendly with the concertos of Rach' already. My ideal of the Romantic Piano Concerto is the two of Brahms, because the virtuosic demands are huge but never flashy and never an end in themselves, and because the orchestra has the role of an equal and not of a slave - they are Symphonies Concertantes, really. But I recently heard Paderewski's Piano Sonata and I was impressed, so I decided to explore more. As for Melcer (or Melcer-Szczawinski as he is also called), his dates (1869-1928) make him Paderewski's younger by 9 years, but Paderewski survived him 13 years. Although for some reason Melcer never attained the international fame of Paderewski (his career was more local), there are many parallels between both composers - one being that both were pupils of Theodor Leschetizky, and another being that Melcer composed his First Piano Concerto in 1895, only six years after Paderewski's (it won the Anton Rubinstein Competition Prize), and that his second, composed three years later, won the Paderewski competition in Leipzig. But other than that, what makes the pairing of both concertos a totally coherent and appropriate choice is also their stylistic similarities.

Indeed, both Paderewski's and Melcer's Piano Concertos, ARE exactly what I expected: two Big Romantic Concertos full of flashy virtuosity and without great musical depth. Still, I must confess that the pianistic virtuosity certainly IS impressive, with an often furiously pounding piano and many many notes (and contrary to the claim of the liner note about Paderewski's, the piano technique is way beyond Chopin and even Tchaikovsky, and full into Rachmaninoff and the great late-romantic virtuosos of the early 20th century), the concertos are full of fine tunes, and the orchestra is not as slavish as in the concertos of Chopin or even (but lack of true familiarity may make me a bit unfair here) Rach'. There are also a few short but nice Brahmsian moments in Melcer's, especially at 10:05 into the first movement (track 4) at the end of an orchestral fugue that starts at 9:08.

In the absence of any comparison so far I can't give an informed opinion on the interpretations, but I've listened to the Paderewski while following on the reduction for two pianos available on the International Music Scores Library Project, and Piotr Paleczny appears to be entirely up to the work's virtuosic demands.

According to Olympia's credits, the same conductor, Tadeusz Strugala, is involved in both Concertos, but pianist (Michael Ponti in Melcer) and orchestra are different. The CD's product info gives January 1982 for the recording date of Paderewski, and January 1992 for the Melcer, but I am somewhat doubtful. In 1980 the label Thorofon published an LP with same Melcer Concerto (paired with Mendelssohn's First) with the same artistic team, Ponti, Strugala and the Warsaw National Philharmonic, MTH-299 (the LP is listed here, [[ASIN:B00HUZ4SHY Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy / H.Melcer: Klavierkonzerte - Thorofon - LP - SWI]], and while writing this rewiew I found an offer on eBay with much more legible front and back cover photos), and I'd be surprised if it wasn't the same version. The timings are virtually the same (13:29 and 15:05 on the LP vs 13:31 and 15:08 on CD), and as on the CD, on the LP second and third movement weren't separated. As for the Paderewski, I wasn't able to find a previous LP release, but in the early days of the CD the label Sound published a version by the same pianist, Piotr Paleczny, but with the Polish Radio National Symphony Orchestra of, apparently, Warsaw (rather than, as here, Katowice), under the direction of Jerzy Maksymiuk, Sound CD-3446, also listed here, [[ASIN:B000WLVWVI Paderewski Piano Concerto - Piotr Paleczny]]. A different recording? But given again the similarity of timings in each movement (Sound's 16:31 vs Olympia's 16:35, 9:56/9:59, 7:58/8:00), I wonder if it too isn't in fact the same one. Anyway, whatever the date, the sound of the Paderewski is good enough, with only a moderate amount of background hiss, but it does sound somewhat muffled and aged compared to the much more vivid and present (and apparently cut at a higher volume) Melcer-Ponti.

I'll return to this review whenever I've been able to hear other versions... and I'll happily return to the flashy virtuosity and little musical substance of Paderewski's and Melcer's Concertos. And now I'm even thinking: maybe I should give another chance to Rach's Concertos...

There's another entry for the same disc, [[ASIN:B000003W78 Polish Piano Concertos]], which you may want to check for the best price.


text:
Budding sax players, take note: saxophone doesn't pay. Or so you think when you read the bio of Karen Wylie, one of the members of Fairer Sax, a female sax quartet that was founded at the end of the 1980s: she "was born in Houston, Texas" and "was started on saxophone by her father, a music teacher, at the age of eleven (...). She studied saxophone with Doctor Frederick Hemke at Northwestern University, Chicago 1983-1987, gaining the Bachelor of Music degree. After graduation , she spent some time as a freelance musician and teacher in the Chicago area, performing as a soloist with the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra and a Contemporary Music group, Kapture." Okay, so far so good and very much in the norm. But then comes the twist: "She was working as a private investigator when invited to join The Fairer Sax in January 1989".

Private Investigator? That's what you do when you're a trained saxophonist?

And not just. I was trying to find some info about the fates of Fairer Sax on the Internet - and didn't, wasn't able to establish when they disbanded. But I did look up Karen Wylie, and you know what she's doing today? She manages an insurance agency in Cypress, Texas (and YES, it IS the same Karen Wylie, formerly ""Dr. Wylie", where [she] taught saxophone at the University of Houston's Moores School of Music").

Anyway. This must have beenn one of their first recital discs (haven't checked to establish their exact discography), in a program of easy-listening arrangements of music from 1920s jazz to 1970s pops (Earth Wind And Fire and Fleetwood Mac), with the addition, in some tracks, of percussion, keyboards and bass guitar. If you are interested in arrangements (I always am, always a refreshing way to hear the old warhorses in new timbral guise) and those styles of music, this is for you. I personally find the music's jollity and light-heartedness a bit forced and contrived. I probably would have preferred a more "substantial" program of transcriptions of "real" classical music, but that's my taste. TT 60+


title: The recording of the C-Major Quintet that Quartetto Italiano never made

text:
An older generation of listeners will have fond memories of Quartetto Italiano, one of the most admired string quartets active from the post-war years to the late 1970s (they disbanded in 1981), noted for their complete recordings of the quartets of Mozart and Beethoven. They also recorded Schubert's last quartets ([[ASIN:B0000041BX Schubert: The Last Four Quartets]]) but, although there had been plans with Pierre Fournier, they never recorded the great C-Major Quintet. A pity and a great loss for the music lovers, no doubt. There is no telling what their interpretation would have been, although one can wager that this version, made by the Foné Quartet in March 1992, is the closest one will get of the the version Quartetto Italiano never recorded. And this is not just because the second cellist is Quartetto Italiano's cellist Franco Rossi (he was 70 then, and died in 2006) and that the Foné Quartet was taught by him in Venice, but also a matter of interpretive style. In their later years Quartetto Italiano had favored very spacious interpretations of almost symphonic sonic scope - witness their Schubert 15th Quartet from 1977 - and the Foné Quartet does exactly that: theirs is also an unusually spacious approach of the String Quintet, and they are very extreme at it too. Compare, for instance, the 21:44 it takes them to get through the first movement (repeat included) to the Melos Quartet's 20:30 in 1977 with Rostropovich - and Melos' first movement was already very spacious ([[ASIN:B000001G6G Schubert: String Quintet In C Major, D. 956]]). And take an urgent version like the Borodin Quartet in 1994 ([[ASIN:B000000SNN Schubert: String Quintet]]): 18:17.

However extreme, such a spacious reading of the first movement  wasn't entirely unprecedented : in 1986 the Marlboro ensemble around veteran Felix Galimir ([[ASIN:B00000270P Schubert: Quintet in C major,D.956 / The Shepherd on the Rock]]) was overall as expansive, despite slight differences in the way they shaped the tempo flexibility within the movement: the Foné Quartet slows down even more when comes the second subject at 2:03, imparting it a plangent and almost languid mood, which the Marlboro ensemble didn't do, keeping their tempo rock-steady. One of the earliest recordings of the Quintet, by the Vienna Konzerthaus Quartet (circa 1951, [[ASIN:B000025GDT Quintet In C]]) was also in that league, with a slow-down on the second subject that was so exaggerated as to become mawkish; Foné remains more tasteful than that.

As with the Marlboro ensemble the risk of such an approach, past the long-breathing introduction, is to feel sluggish, plodding, rhythmically square. Of course each listener will react differently to the objective parameters of the interpretation: the languidity of Foné's phrasing of the second subject comes close, to my ears, of being over the top, and, added to a touch of lack of crispness in the little staccato marches like the one just before the repeat bar at 5:08, the impression elicited is of a version that is very ample and lyrical, but mellow and somewhat lacking drama. Nonetheless, overall, I find that, like the Marlboro ensemble, Foné avoid the possible pitfalls of their spaciousness, thanks to their muscular chording (Marlboro was heavier and thicker) and vehement phrasings in the more dramatic moments after the repeat (try the vehement shouts at 11:50). It is significiant that, while they are a few seconds slower than the Marlboro ensemble in reaching the repeat bar (5:45 to 5:41), they are a few seconds faster from there to the end (10:19 to 10:23); given the spaciousness of their second subject when it reappears after the recapitulation (16:45), it means that they have more flexibility than the Marlboro ensemble in pressing when come the more dramatic moments.

But a further originality of the Foné Quartet, for the better or the not so convincing, is that they extend their spaciousness of approach not only to the Adagio, which seems to go without saying and which the Marlboro ensemble also did, but to the two last movements as well. As for the Adagio, they follow the model of the Melos Quartet rather than of the Lindsay Quartet ([[ASIN:B0000030Q8 Schubert: String Quintet in C, D. 956]]) or Marlboro ensemble, with slow outer sections (exactly the same tempo as Marlboro, which means not as slow as Melos or, the most extreme, Lindsay) and a very contrasted, swift and dramatic middle/agitated section. Given the rest of their interpretation, I think a slower middle section, in the manner of Lindsay or Marlboro, would have been more coherent. But the bridge passage from the end of the middle section to the return of the adagio, with its sobbing first violin over ascending scales of second cello, is particularly beautiful at their slow tempo (9:48). The Scherzo certainly has the merit of consistency, if not any other: it is the slowest ever I believe, entirely belying Schubert's "presto" indication. The previous "record" had been held by the 1975 Tatrai Quartet ([[ASIN:B000009I4P Franz Schubert - String Quintet in C Major (Hungaroton / White Label)]]), which I compared to "dancing at weight-watchers". But Tatrai took a more flowing middle trio: Foné keeps it slow. At least, you can't deny that it has a character of its own; whether the character is musically and emotionally convincing is another matter, and each listener's choice...

Foné's Finale is also in the slower range, although there had been more extreme (the Aeolian Quartet, the Endres Quartet in 1958, Vegh Quartet and Casals in Prades in 1961, the Orford Quartet in 1984, see links in the comments section), all justified by Schubert's "Allegretto" indication. But again, as in the first movement, Foné slows down perceptibly (although not as markedly) on the second subject at 1:01, and their reading exudes more lyricism than drama, even in the dramatic passages as the little fugato at 5:29; even their coda remains unhurried and pedestrian.

This is then, in its own way, one of the most "extreme" version of Schubert's Quintet ever recorded, the equivalent, on the opposite pole, of Heifetz' 1961 recording ([[ASIN:B00000E6GQ Quintet in C]]). I find that the extreme spaciousness of Foné works much better in Schubert's Quintet than the mad rush of Heifetz, but still, it is a recording that should be approached with caution. Not recommended if this is your only version - for that, you want something more "middle-of-the-road", and the options are many (Melos make and remake, Brandis make and remake, Guarneri remake, Stern-Ma and friends in 1993, 1989 Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center among them, and excluding those that do not play the first-movement repeat) - but attractive for the seasoned collector and admirer of Schubert's Quintet who'd want to explore the full intepretive potential of the composer's ultimate chamber masterpiece. But in the same vein I find the Marlboro ensemble's version more advisable still, on account of its very special Adagio (but for a really unique Adagio go to the Lindsay Quartet) and its less objectionable (but also less extreme) Scherzo and Finale.

Check on the disc's other entries for the best price: [[ASIN:B000F9SN0A String Quintet in C Major D. 956]] or [[ASIN:B000RGACXM Schubert: String Quintet in C Major, D.956]].


text:
An older generation of listeners will have fond memories of Quartetto Italiano, one of the most admired string quartets active from the post-war years to the late 1970s (they disbanded in 1981), noted for their complete recordings of the quartets of Mozart and Beethoven. They also recorded Schubert's last quartets ([[ASIN:B0000041BX Schubert: The Last Four Quartets]]) but, although there had been plans with Pierre Fournier, they never recorded the great C-Major Quintet. A pity and a great loss for the music lovers, no doubt. There is no telling what their interpretation would have been, although one can wager that this version, made by the Foné Quartet in March 1992, is the closest one will get of the the version Quartetto Italiano never recorded. And this is not just because the second cellist is Quartetto Italiano's cellist Franco Rossi (he was 70 then, and died in 2006) and that the Foné Quartet was taught by him in Venice, but also a matter of interpretive style. In their later years Quartetto Italiano had favored very spacious interpretations of almost symphonic sonic scope - witness their Schubert 15th Quartet from 1977 - and the Foné Quartet does exactly that: theirs is also an unusually spacious approach of the String Quintet, and they are very extreme at it too. Compare, for instance, the 21:44 it takes them to get through the first movement (repeat included) to the Melos Quartet's 20:30 in 1977 with Rostropovich - and Melos' first movement was already very spacious ([[ASIN:B000001G6G Schubert: String Quintet In C Major, D. 956]]). And take an urgent version like the Borodin Quartet in 1994([[ASIN:B000000SNN Schubert: String Quintet]]): 18:17.

However extreme, such a spacious reading of the first movement  wasn't entirely unprecedented : in 1986 the Marlboro ensemble around veteran Felix Galimir ([[ASIN:B00000270P Schubert: Quintet in C major,D.956 / The Shepherd on the Rock]]) was overall as expansive, despite slight differences in the way they shaped the tempo flexibility within the movement: the Foné Quartet slows down even more when comes the second subject at 2:03, imparting it a plangent and almost languid mood, which the Marlboro ensemble didn't do, keeping their tempo rock-steady. One of the earliest recordings of the Quintet, by the Vienna Konzerthaus Quartet (circa 1951, [[ASIN:B000025GDT Quintet In C]]) was also in that league, with a slow-down on the second subject that was so exaggerated as to become mawkish; Foné remains more tasteful than that.

As with the Marlboro ensemble the risk of such an approach, past the long-breathing introduction, is to feel sluggish, plodding, rhythmically square. Of course each listener will react differently to the objective parameters of the interpretation: the languidity of Foné's phrasing of the second subject comes close, to my ears, of being over the top, and, added to a touch of lack of crispness in the little staccato marches like the one just before the repeat bar at 5:08, the impression elicited is of a version that is very ample and lyrical, but mellow and somewhat lacking drama. Nonetheless, overall, I find that, like the Marlboro ensemble, Foné avoid the possible pitfalls of their spaciousness, thanks to their muscular chording (Marlboro was heavier and thicker) and vehement phrasings in the more dramatic moments after the repeat (try the vehement shouts at 11:50). It is significiant that, while they are a few seconds slower than the Marlboro ensemble in reaching the repeat bar (5:45 to 5:41), they are a few seconds faster from there to the end (10:19 to 10:23); given the spaciousness of their second subject when it reappears after the recapitulation (16:45), it means that they have more flexibility than the Marlboro ensemble in pressing when come the more dramatic moments.

But a further originality of the Foné Quartet, for the better or the not so convincing, is that they extend their spaciousness of approach not only to the Adagio, which seems to go without saying and which the Marlboro ensemble also did, but to the two last movements as well. As for the Adagio, they follow the model of the Melos Quartet rather than of the Lindsay Quartet ([[ASIN:B0000030Q8 Schubert: String Quintet in C, D. 956]]) or Marlboro ensemble, with slow outer sections (exactly the same tempo as Marlboro, which means not as slow as Melos or, the most extreme, Lindsay) and a very contrasted, swift and dramatic middle/agitated section. Given the rest of their interpretation, I think a slower middle section, in the manner of Lindsay or Marlboro, would have been more coherent. But the bridge passage from the end of the middle section to the return of the adagio, with its sobbing first violin over ascending scales of second cello, is particularly beautiful at their slow tempo (9:48). The Scherzo certainly has the merit of consistency, if not any other: it is the slowest ever I believe, entirely belying Schubert's "presto" indication. The previous "record" had been held by the 1975 Tatrai Quartet ([[ASIN:B000009I4P Franz Schubert - String Quintet in C Major (Hungaroton / White Label)]]), which I compared to "dancing at weight-watchers". But Tatrai took a more flowing middle trio: Foné keeps it slow. At least, you can't deny that it has a character of its own; whether the character is musically and emotionally convincing is another matter, and each listener's choice...

Foné's Finale is also in the slower range, although there had been more extreme (the Aeolian Quartet, the Endres Quartet in 1958, Vegh Quartet and Casals in Prades in 1961, the Orford Quartet in 1984, see links in the comments section), all justified by Schubert's "Allegretto" indication. But again, as in the first movement, Foné slows down perceptibly (although not as markedly) on the second subject at 1:01, and their reading exudes more lyricism than drama, even in the dramatic passages as the little fugato at 5:29; even their coda remains unhurried and pedestrian.

This is then, in its own way, one of the most "extreme" version of Schubert's Quintet ever recorded, the equivalent, on the opposite pole, of Heifetz' 1961 recording ([[ASIN:B00000E6GQ Quintet in C]]). I find that the extreme spaciousness of Foné works much better in Schubert's Quintet than the mad rush of Heifetz, but still, it is a recording that should be approached with caution. Not recommended if this is your only version - for that, you want something more "middle-of-the-road", and the options are many (Melos make and remake, Brandis make and remake, Guarneri remake, Stern-Ma and friends in 1993, 1989 Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center among them, and excluding those that do not play the first-movement repeat) - but attractive for the seasoned collector and admirer of Schubert's Quintet who'd want to explore the full intepretive potential of the composer's ultimate chamber masterpiece. But in the same vein I find the Marlboro ensemble's version more advisable still, on account of its very special Adagio (but for a really unique Adagio go to the Lindsay Quartet) and its less objectionable (but also less extreme) Scherzo and Finale.

Check on the disc's other entries for the best price: [[ASIN:B007RIH5XI Quintetto per archi D 956 op 163 (1828) in DO]] or [[ASIN:B000RGACXM Schubert: String Quintet in C Major, D.956]].


title: It's been reissued with more

text:
Approach with caution. This is the Japanese release of a program recorded by Ofra Harnoy and the "Armin Electric Strings" in October 1985, originally published on LP by the Canadian label Fanfare, DFL 9016, and released in the US on CD by the label Pro Arte on [[ASIN:B000GHBLAK Electric Beatles]]. It's a very enjoyable recital: not only do you get those ten engaging ballad-like melodies, played with gorgeous tone and much lyricism, songfulness and subtlety of phrasing by Harnoy, but the arrangements for string quartet (by Doug Riley) are very cleverly done, not just solo cello over an indistinct carpet of sounds, but offering lots of nice dialoguing between the solo and the other instruments ("Hey Jude" is even scored for violin and cello duet, in which the violin is often given leading role), and other ear-catching moments (like the upward glissando at 1:12 in "Lucy in the Sky"). Other than a certain muffled quality of the violin's tone in "Hey Jude", I don't hear anything specifically "electric" about the Armin Electric Strings' tone, I suppose it just means that they were amplified when playing on stage.

Note however that first Pro Arte ([[ASIN:B000009KDC Beatles Book]]), then BMG ([[ASIN:B000003G0A Imagine]]) have reisued that recital, shorn of "Act Naturally", but with the addition of the near-complete Beatles recital recorded by Harnoy with the Orford String Quartet a year earlier, [[ASIN:B000I3HM5U Ofra Harnoy and Orford String Quartet Plays the Beatles]] or [[ASIN:B00000E5TB Beatles by 5]] (with "Strawberry Fields Forever/The Fool on the Hill" and "Something" left out from that one). The BMG reissue even adds a track, "Free as a Bird" in an arrangement for cello, piano and synthesizer, that seems to have been recorded especially for the occasion. The two reissues sell very cheap at the time of writing, so unless it is important for you to have the three missing tracks, the reissues are the preferable option.


title: Harnoy and friends play Gershwin? NOT TOGETHER!

text:
Watch out, this is a hoax - and they sure got me. Reading the disc's title, you'd think that Ofra Harnoy was playing Gershwin transcriptions with friends. And the track listing certainly doesn't help dispell the confusion, since they give the list of performers, but do not ascribe them to their relevant tracks, so there's no way to know, among the three pianists, Helena Bowkun, Michael Dussek and Catherine Wilson, or the two trios, Canadian Piano Trio and Trio Vivant, who's playing what.

It's only with some amount of online research that I realized that the title is both entirely true, and entirely misleading. Sure enough, Ofra Harnoy and friends play Gerswhin. But not "Ofra Harnoy AND friends", meaning: not TOGETHER: successively (and, sure, if you read between the lines of the fine print of the terse liner notes, it does say: "this present collection of short Gershwin gems features the popular young cellist Ofra Harnoy performing with co-artists both separately and in tandem". You've really got to twist the phrase around to make it mean: "Ofra Harnoy AND co-artists performing both separately and in tandem". The meaning that can be conveyed by a simple word, "with" or "and"...)

In fact the CD is a compilation of tracks from various albums, and most do NOT involve Harnoy at all. She only plays in 5 tracks out of the CD's 15:

Track 1, Summertime for cello and piano, from the album [[ASIN:B000003F2U Salut D Amour]], and Catherine Wilson is the accompanyist here.

Track 2, Summertime Variations with Paul Brodie on saxophone. I've seen this track on various Harnoy reissues, and a recent Doremi Harnoy compilation, DHR-6609, [[ASIN:B007PSY20O Ofra Harnoy Vol. 2]], has the same piece and performers which they date "Toronto, February 16, 1986", but they claim that their material is first-time released, so it may not be the same recording. I haven't been able to track down for sure the track's original release, possibly on a Paul Brodie album, but it may also have been on one of these previous Harnoy compilation, [[ASIN:B003TUBBPQ Duets Ofra Harnoy & Friends]] or [[ASIN:B00000E5UM Ofra Harnoy & Friends]].

Track 3 It Aint Necessarily So & 4 Bess You Is My woman, for cello and piano, come both from LP Masters of the Bow MBS 2011 (1980, "Recorded in Walter Hall, University of Toronto") -  and that's where Helena Bowkun comes into play  -, whose main offering was the cello-piano transcription of Franck's Violin-Piano Sonata (the full details can be found on discogs dot com, reference 2802331).

Track 14, Prelude No. 2 (in what is, apparently, an arrangement for cello of Heifetz' arrangement for violin, and here accompanied by Michael Dussek) is from the album "Favorite Encores" ("Recorded at the Church of Saint Timothy, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, Feb. 15, 1985"), Pro Arte CDD 386 (1988), [[ASIN:B00008F8LI Ofra Harnoy: Favorite Encores Kreisler Liszt Foss Gershwin-Heifetz Piatti Saint-Saens Chopin/Schroder Tchaikovsky Boccherini/Piatti Popper (Pro Arte)]] (full details on Trove dot nla dot gov dot au, the Libraries of Australia website).

The rest goes like this:

Tracks 5 to 8 and 10, 12, 13 are performed by cellist Shauna Rolston and the Canadian Piano Trio (Jaime Weisenblum, Nina Tobias, Stephanie Sebastian) and appeared on the CD Pro Arte CDG-3321 "I've Got Plenty of Gerswhin" (1988), for which I haven't found a listing on this website - but only seven tracks from that album's 13 tracks are reprised here:

5. Clara, Clara
6. Bess, you is my woman now
7. I got plenty of nuthin'
8. There's a boat dat's leavin' soon for New York
10. Love is sweeping the country
12. Stairway to paradise
13. The man I love

The six tracks are left out of that album are Somebody loves me, Embraceable you, A foggy day, S'wonderful, Strike up the band and Love walked in. You can find the CD and its details in the holdings of the University of Toronto.

Track 9, "O Gee, O Joy" is played by Trio Vivant (Catherine Wilson, Marie Berard, Dorothy Lawson) and was on their debut recording published by Fanfare Records and Pro Arte, "[[ASIN:B000009KW0 Palm Court Pleasures]]", and now reissued on their own label, [[ASIN:B002VKE0NA Palm Court Pleasures]] (but selling more expensive at the time of writing). You can find the details on Trio Vivant's (now called "Ensemble Vivant") website.

Track 11, Gershwin's Lullaby, is played by the Orford String Quartet (Andrew Dawes, Kenneth Perkins, Terence Helmer, Denis Brott), from their Album of Encores, Fanfare DFC 7008 (1985, LP only), which also had Borodin's Nocturne & Scherzo from Quartet No. 2, Dvorak's Waltz opus 54-1, Foster's Old Black Koe, Gagnon's Tango, Haydn's Serenade from Quartet op. 3-5, Lennon-McCartney's Yesterday, MacMillan's A Saint Malo and Puccini's Cristantemi. The details of that album can be found on WorldCat.

Track 15, Variations on I got Rhythm (in an uncredited arrangement, which turns out to be by Victor Davies) are played again by the Canadian Piano Trio and come from their debut LP, Fanfare DFL-9021 (1985), whose main offering was Shostakovich's Trio. The LP is held at the University of British Columbia Library.

Bottom line: the disc is deliberately deceitful and only tried to surf on the fleeting moment of fame of Ofra Harnoy. With all that sorted out and exposed, it's hard to give an entirely objective appreciation of the CD, but independent of the fact that it is a hoax, its 55 minutes of Gershwin arrangements (or not, in the case of the endearingly simple Lullaby) are enjoyable. In the tracks in which she plays, Harnoy plays with a lavish display of schmaltz and swoon, but I find that it is appropriate. Check the CD's other entry for the best price, [[ASIN:B00000DWVS Ofra Harnoy Plays Gershwin]].


title: Stefan Parkman's small-scaled period-instrument forces are no match to premiere recording by Newell Jenkins

text:
Joseph Martin Kraus' dates (1756-1792) make him an exact contemporary of Mozart, integral with the untimely death at the age of 36 (of tuberculosis), one year and ten days after Mozart (he was his younger by a mere five months). He was born and trained in Germany but his compositional career really started in full in 1778, not yet 22, when he entered the service of the enlightened King of Sweden Gustav III. Gustav even sponsored Kraus on a four-year training tour of Europe, from October 1782 to the end of 1786 - the ancient regime version of J. William Fulbright, I call it. As for Gustav, he was kind of the Swedish Lincoln or Kennedy, not because he abolished slavery or stood up to the Russians (although, for the latter, he did, to regain the Baltic provinces, but only after having allied with them to conquer Norway) but because of his assassination (and Gustav is famous for providing the model of Ricardo in Verdi's Ballo in Maschera, derived from Auber's Gustave III ou le Bal masqué). In fact Gustav is a highly controversial figure, an enlightened despot, admirer of Voltaire, who cut down the powers of the parliamentary nobility (the Brits and the French would have chopped his head off after a mock trial, and had he been a Roman some 1700 years earlier, his own son would have stabbed him), legalized Catholic and Jewish presence in Sweden and lavished a lot of money on the arts. So, although it would have been part of his official duties anyway, one can surmise that Kraus' funeral hommages to Gustav - the instrumental Mortuary Music (a four-movement symphony in all but name), when the corpse was taken to lay in state, and the Funeral Cantata for the funeral proprer, on the next day - were deeply felt. Himself died a mere nine months after his patron, an admirable case of a servant's faithfulness to his master.

30 years after the commercialization of the CD, nothing is rare anymore, although Kraus and his cantata are far from an abudant presence on CD. This recording, made in October 1987 by Stefan Parkman leading the Drottningholm Baroque Ensemble and Uppsala University Chamber Choir, was only the second of the Funeral Cantata, after the pionneering effort of Newell Jenkins and his Clarion Concerts Chorus & Orchestra for Vanguard in 1969 ([[ASIN:B0000023BP Kraus: Funeral Cantata for Gustave III of Sweden]]), and the first on period instruments. Since then, so far as I am aware, there's been only one more, which I haven't heard, on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, [[ASIN:B00EQJ1OPQ Joseph Martin Kraus: Begr?Bniskantate]] (also, as this one, with the complement of the Mortuary Symphony). There's a long way to go before it reaches the recorded status of Mozart's Requiem.

It's a powerful work, and, yes, Mozart's Requiem comes to mind at times, with a long, somber and brooding orchestral introduuction (track 5), explosive opening chorus (track 6), furious tenor aria that could almost be Tamino running away from the snake in Bergman's Swedish-sung Magic Flute (track 7), passionate soprano aria that could be Dona Anna or Dona Elvira furiously raging at Don Giovanni (track 8), a duet here attributed to soprano II and tenor  (about that see below) that could come from... Gluck's Orfeo (track 9), etc.

That said, as well-disposed as I am in principle towards "Historically-Informed Performances", I don't find this one to be an entirely convincing rendition of the music. It is certainly more HIP than Jenkins, e.g. generally more flowing, less "funeral" as we understand it today, almost jolly even is some passages, and also on a smaller scale - and played half a pitch lower. But Jenkins is together more brooding in the brooding moment of the orchestral introduction, and, always, incomparably grander and more dramatic - not a matter of tempo (although it sometimes is, also), but of heft. Musica Sveciae's acoustics aren't ideal other, and the music comes out a bit muffled, lacking sharp attacks. In the moving cantilenas with bassson of the Overture, the bassoon doesn't come out enough (1:07, 2:15), robbing the music of some of its emotion. But Parkman, and possibly his Drottningholm Ensemble and Chorus, are also to blame in this lack of pungency.

Both tenors have a nasal strain to their timbres, but Jenkins' tenor Ragnar Ulfung is significantly more dramatic and virile than Claes-Hakan Ahnsjö, and he is helped by Jenkins' incomparably more dramatic conducting too. In the introductory recitative to his first aria, you get the sense that he storms in wrath at the death of his beloved sovereign , where Ahnsjö (track 7) just wails, and in the aria itself, there is simply no contest: despite their marginally swifter tempo, Parkman and Ahnsjö sound polished and polite, where Ulfung and Jenkins are hugely dramatic. In his next solo aria, track 10, Ahnsjö is lyrical and elegiac, which is a permissible option in view of the lyrics ("He is but dust, the grave his dwelling place / The Throne of Sweden is no longer his"), but again Ulfung is considerably more virile and dramatic, and, ultimately, impressive.

The same kind of contrast is found in the soprano arias. Parkman's soprano Hillevi Martinpelto would be fine if it wasn't for Jenkins' extraordinary Joan Marie Moynagh, who has the vocal stuff for the furious arias of Dona Elvira or Dona Anna - why didn't she make more of a career, I don't know.

Some apparent divergences of editions also come into play. That Jenkins' fruitier mezzo should be replaced by a higher-voiced soprano II in Parkman's recording can be considered standard, but in track 9, what was with Jenkins an aria for mezzo and bass becomes one for soprano II and tenor. I don't know who's closer to score, but Parkman's option has the strange result that the bass appears to sing only in one ensemble, the antepenultimate quartet (track 14). At any rate, I find Parkman's soprano II and tenor less characterful than Jenkins' mezzo and bass (no less than Kim Borg), evoking less of the Gluckian reminiscences than they did. In the same vein, because of that choice of a soprano II and because Parkman's bass is in fact a bariton, there isn't much timbral differenciation in the quartet. The last soprano II or mezzo aria, here track 15, is again incomparably more dramatic with Jenkins, and there it is a matter of tempo: Parkman takes a laid-back and lyrical view and extends it to 3:20, where Jenkins is considerably more urgent, almost raging (2:20).

The erudite and thorough liner notes (including the same English translation of the lyrics as on the Vanguard CD of Jenkins), and the complement of the Mortuary Symphony, as fine a specimen as it is of that kind of funeral music, much in use also in France during the years of the revolution, don't really tip the scale back in favor of the Musica Sveciae release, especially since the same composition is available on volume 3 of Naxos complete traversal of Kraus' symphonies, [[ASIN:B00004WMX2 Kraus: Complete Symphonies Vol.3]] (which I haven't heard). Those who have the Jenkins recording can safely stay with it. Those who don't would do well to look for it. But if you are still going to go for this Musica Sveciae recording, do check on its other entry for best price, [[ASIN:B00H3L09AU Funeral Music for Gustav III]].