Margaret Brouwer: Rhapsodies (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

The Art of Sailing at Dawn; Rhapsody, Concerto for Orchestra; Symphony No. 1 “Lake Voices;” Path at Sunrise, Masses of Flowers; Pluto (version for orchestra). ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra; Marin Alsop, conductor. NAXOS 8.559933

Once again we find ourselves auditioning music by a composer we are encountering for the first time. Before beginning this review, I did a quick search of Classical Candor’s past postings to see whether John Puccio had ever reviewed any of her music, but he had not. Therefore, this is the premier review of music by the American composer Maragaret Brouwer (b. 1940) to appear on this website. But after listening extensively to this release, spending more time with it than any CD in recent memory – to the point that it was beginning to drive my poor wife bonkers – I still don’t feel as though I really have anything all that insightful to say about it. A statement Brouwer makes in her liner notes offers a clue as to why: “When composing, I generally work with a musical motif and let it evolve and transform in various ways. Later, I realize how the music reflects my own thoughts and experiences.” 

Hmmm… Perhaps I am guilty of some variation of the intentional fallacy when I report finding her statement somewhat on the odd side. On the other hand, I can understand how some could have a musical inspiration, which after all is abstract, and only later realize how the end result might have reflected – at least in some deeply personal respects – thoughts, experiences, or emotional reactions to those thoughts and experiences. In any event, Brouwer provides brief notes about each of the five compositions on the program, in which she reveals more about her intentions and whatever emotional connections may or may not be associated with each.

 

The opening piece, The Art of Sailing at Dawn, is as its title implies a fairly straightforward tone poem that evokes the feeling of sailing at dawn. From the bird cry that opens the piece to the gentle sense of motion on the waves, it is a peaceful evocation of a smooth sail on a calm lake. The next composition, Rhapsody, Concerto for Orchestra, begins in much the same mood as the sailing piece, but the after the tranquil opening section (“Regrets”), the energy level picks up for the final two sections (“Airs and Rhapsodies” and “Dance”). 

 

In his recent review of Paavo Järvi’s traversal of Mendelssohn’s complete symphonies which you can find here), our resident musicologist Ryan Ross noted that symphonies should not be regarded as having necessarily to fit into the classical Haydn-Mozart-Beethoven structure. We can certainly think of wonderful symphonies by Mahler, Sibelius, and other composers who demonstrate that point. Brouwer’s Symphony No. 1 “Lake Voices” certainly does not strike the ears as a traditional symphony might, with its three movements joined together without a pause and its relatively brief duration (17:19). “Listening to Symphony No. 1 “Lake Voices” now, I can see that I was replaying my young life. The sounds reflect those I knew growing up in the Dutch/American community of the Holland, Michigan area… The recurring melody in this work is reminiscent of the modal, somber, moody but beautiful church hymns we sang with great gusto, conviction and powerful voices. Overlaying the recurring Dutch hymn-like melody in Symphony No. 1 “Lake Voices” is the ever-present sound of the lake.” It is a dramatic, expressive work, somewhat dark in tone, with – to these ears at least – an undercurrent of anger. YMMV.

 

Of her symphony and the final piece on the album, Brouwer offers the following reflection: “Symphony No. 1 and Plutowere composed between 1996 and 1999 during an emotional period for me. Within four years, my husband, then my mother, then my father passed away. Returning to Pluto now, I hear my anger and grief suffered during that time. Those feelings fit equally well with the musical description of Pluto, the god of death and the underworld.” The work was commissioned by the Roanoke Symphony Orchestra as a sequel to Holst’s The Planets, with Brouwer’s original version including a part for a women’s chorus that this orchestral version replaces with some writing for flutes and oboes. As you might infer from Brouwer’s description, it is a dramatic-sounding piece, expressive of tumult and with an ending most abrupt. Hard to imagine as a fitting addition to The Planets, but entertaining enough on its own.

 

Wholly different in tone is the piece that precedes Pluto on the program, Path at Sunrise, Masses of Flowers.Conductor Marin Alsop (left)  has chosen to vary the emotional tone with some soothing music after the more intense music that has come just before. As you might readily surmise from the title, Path at Sunrise, Masses of Flowers is a tone poem, meant to evoke a stroll along a beautiful garden path at first light. Not all is dreamlike and misty, however; the colors of the flowers are bold and striking as the morning sun shines down upon them. 

 

Although I cannot honestly report that the music of Margaret Brouwer has struck me as startlingly unique or original, it is undeniably pleasant and listenable. Kudos to Maestra Alsop and the folks at Naxos for presenting her orchestral music in such a well-performed, well-recorded production. Having liner notes from Ms. Brouwer giving context to the music makes this release even more attractive to those music lovers seeking to widen their musical horizon.

A Room of Her Own (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring 

Lili Boulanger ((1893-1918): D’un matin de printemps; D’un soir triste; Cécile Chaminade (1857-1944): Trio No. 1, Op. 11; Germaine Tailleferre (1892-1983): Trio; Dame Ethel Smith (1858-1944): Trio. Neave Trio (Anna Williams, violin; Mikhail Veselov, cello; Eri Nakamura, piano). CHANDOS CHAN 20238

The title tells the tale as this release from the Neave Trio makes a space for some women composers who have been largely overlooked by many classical music fans. The program opens with music by Boulanger – not the well-known French composer and instructor Nadia Boulanger, but rather her younger sister, Lili, who died at the tragically young age of 24. She suffered from a chronic illness that meant she most likely knew her days were limited when she penned this wistful, at times bordering on melancholy music. Such a shame it is to lose such a talent at such a tender age. A much longer life was enjoyed by the next composer on the program, Cécile Chaminade, also French, who started composing at the age of seven. Her trio is more upbeat in mood than the preceding music by Boulanger. Especially lively is the third movement, marked Presto leggiero, which simply sparkles. 

Then it is on to a third French composer, Germaine Tailleferre, who originally composed her four-movement trio back in the years 1916-1917 but then revised it in 1987 – six decades later! Interestingly enough, her original surname was not Tailleferre, and no, it did not change because of marriage. According to the liner notes, “her musical education was undertaken against the will of her father, and she changed her surname from ‘Taillefesse’ to ‘Tailleferre’ as a mark of protest.” Her Trio is light and lively, with the longest movement lasting barely more than four minutes. 

 

The program then concludes with a trip across the English Channel for the music of the English composer Dame Ethel Smyth, who actually acquired her musical education not in London but in Leipzig. The Piano Trio recorded here appears not have been performed during her lifetime. The liner notes point out, in fact, that whatever modest measure of success she may have enjoyed stemmed from a few larger-scale works she composed later in her career, not from her earlier chamber works, of which this trio is an example. Those listeners who equate English chamber music with dreamy pastoral meandering will be surprised by the final two movements here, which are zesty and kinetic. Kudos to the Neave Trio and Chandos for bringing us some music outside the mainstream that is at once both entertaining and enlightening. 

Mendelssohn Symphonies (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Mendelssohn: Complete Symphonies; A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Op. 61 (excerpts). Paavo Järvi, conductor; Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich. Alpha Classics 1004. 4 discs 

(NOTE: This review is by our most musically knowledgeable contributor, Ryan Ross, a professional musicologist. Following Ryan’s review are some brief comments on this release from our other contributors, Bill Heck and Karl Nehring, both of whom took an interest in this set and spent an appreciable amount of time giving it a listen.)

 

I find Mendelssohn to be an absolutely fascinating figure, and nowhere more so than as the composer of these five “full” symphonies (as opposed to the dozen or so for strings alone that he produced as a juvenile). Why? I think it goes back to the chip I have on my shoulder about the symphony genre, which runs through my reviews and musicological scholarship like a leitmotif. Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven produced foundational symphonies, no question; but they did not invent the genre, nor (despite their greatness) could they dictate what it would be forevermore. Too many commentators have had a difficult time acknowledging this, and of recognizing that while the First Viennese School remained an important symphonic model and legacy, the genre came to encompass so much more than German classicism. Dyneley Hussey, to take one example, wrote the following of Mendelssohn in 1949: “He had not the ability to create the kind of germinal theme that grows and develops new form under the composer’s hand, and generates conflict when brought into contact with the other themes of a like nature. His themes are essentially euphonious and blend peacefully with one another. His musical imagination was, moreover, essentially pictorial” (from Ralph Hill, ed., The Symphony, pgs. 163-164). To the extent that what Hussey says here is true, I say more power to Mendelssohn. Because every time I listen to these five works for what they are (and each is quite distinct from the others), I enjoy the heck out of them. 

Indeed, it is the very heterogeneity of Mendelssohn’s five fully scored symphonies that presents such a challenge to making recorded cycles. The First (by a teenaged composer) is a tightly constructed classical symphony with Romantic passion; the Second (the Lobgesang, or “Song of Praise”) is essentially a sacred cantata with a few purely instrumental sections; the Third (Scottish) and Fourth (Italian) are the much-loved “travelogues” that are the most frequently performed of the group by far; and the Fifth is named the Reformation for the religious tunes it quotes and the occasion of the Lutheran Augsburg Confession’s 300th Anniversary for which it was composed. (Mendelssohn’s family had converted to Lutheranism from Judaism.) To say that this group is a motley crew, symphonically speaking, seems fair. And what I have found in recorded cycles is that conductors and orchestras who are consistently convincing across the whole spectrum have not been super common. 

 

While I cannot say that Paavo Järvi and the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich completely buck this trend, they do offer exciting performances marked by refreshing conviction from start to finish. According to the liner notes by Franziska and Lion Gallusser, Järvi believes that Mendelssohn does not get the attention he deserves. Thus was he motivated to bring this recording project to fruition despite the Covid pandemic. One admires such determination on behalf of a symphonist who could stand to make yet more progress winning stubborn critical minds and hearts. 

 

All of the symphonies (and the Midsummer Night’s Dream excerpts generously thrown in) receive at least solid performances. But what distinguishes this cycle for me are the stunning renditions of the two least popular: the Lobgesang and the Reformation. It is extremely easy for the former to get bogged down due to a lack of performer energy. But not here. Järvi and Company never yield in their intensity. The singing and playing are both exuberant. This is now one of my favorite performances of the work. Likewise, the Reformation also gets a sympathetic reading that plays to its spirit. 

 

The remaining three symphonies each receive enthusiastic readings as well. Best among them is the intensity that Järvi and Company bring to the First. (Granted, it is a comparatively slight work, but I don’t remember hearing a better interpretation than this one.) Their Scottish and Italian Symphonies, however, come up against stiff and extensive competition in the recording catalog. Neither effort here is poor, but both have minor issues that keep me from placing them among more distinguished accounts. 

 

We’ll begin with the Italian. I admire the intention of gusto here, but the opening and closing movements just feel too breathless, with phrases and even pitches at times sounding slightly clipped or hurried over. The middle movements are suitably gorgeous. The Scottish fares a bit better, but my main issue here is a certain lack of gravitas in the more thoughtful moments. German Romantics, including Mendelssohn, were fascinated by the seemingly magical land of Scotland. (Having been there multiple times, it’s easy for me to see why!) I need more of a fairy tale feeling overall. For an illustration, consider my “reference recording” for the work – Charles Munch directing the Boston Symphony (RCA 60483-2-RV). 

These modest misgivings aside, the cycle overall is a splendid achievement. The sharp performances of Nos. 1, 2, and 5 alone make it a landmark. It’s high time that we stopped being embarrassed at Mendelssohn’s symphonic heterodoxy (even given that he did not dub the Second a “symphony”) or his deep religious feeling (here’s looking squarely at the sneering treatment by Charles Rosen in The Romantic Generation). This is wholesome and vivid music, and it gets most welcome service from Paavo Järvi and the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich. I’d gladly prescribe it to beginners, or to anyone needing convincing that this is great Romantic art.

 

Comments on the set from Bill Heck:

It's easy to summarize my reaction upon first hearing several of the works in this set: "wow, these are great!" Since that first listen, my reaction has cooled a bit, although there is still a lot to like about these performances.

The immediate (and obvious) positive: Järvi sets quick tempi, and the players respond energetically and confidently. This is not shy, delicate Mendelssohn; this is Mendelssohn bursting with life. The playing is fully up to snuff, and the recording is clean, clear, and well balanced.

So why has my ardor cooled, although certainly not gone cold? First, after some time with the set, those quick tempi started occasionally felt slightly tiring, a little too much of a good thing. Granted, I was doing concentrated critical listening over a short period, so it was easy to become a little fatigued; you, dear reader, shouldn't have that problem. But even so, I do think that a little more breathing room now and then wouldn't have been amiss.

Then there was the sound. Yes, it was initially impressive, and yes, I could hear every line and seemingly every instrument – but I missed the coherent whole. Violins were over here, cellos were over there, woodwinds were in back somewhere, but I wasn't hearing an orchestra playing on a stage in a real space; in the overused language of audio, I didn’t hear a coherent image. It’s likely that I am unusually sensitive to the sort of thing; no doubt plenty of listeners will be perfectly happy with the sound. But my poor brain became confused in trying to locate what was going on.

One other minor point, not a criticism but a preference: Mendelssohn used German lyrics in the couple of sections of the Midsummer Night’s Dream music, so it's no surprise that those are the lyrics sung here. But it's incidental music for a Shakespearean play, and I'd really like to hear Shakespeare's words in his own language. (No doubt my German-teaching sister will beat me about the head if she reads this…)

Despite those concerns, I did enjoy hearing this set, and it will be deservedly popular. But that brings up one other issue for potential purchasers: do you really want all the symphonies plus the Midsummer music? Mendelson himself referred to the Reformation as juvenilia; it's nice to hear it once, but I don’t need a recording of it lying around. The Lobgesang, an oratorio rather than a symphony, will not be everyone’s cup of tea, either. For many listeners, streaming will be the ideal: start with your favorite work, then dip in wherever your fancy takes you. 

Comments from Karl Nehring:

I must preface my remarks by pointing out that contrary to my usual practice, I did not listen to this set on CD; instead, I streamed it. Nor did I listen to it on my big system; instead, most of my listening was through my soundbar setup and in my car. Moreover, I listened almost exclusively to the orchestral symphonies, generally foregoing the Lobgesang and the Midsummer Night’s Dream music. However, in my defense I will point out that what I did listen to, I listened to many, many times. 

I suppose I was predisposed to like this set by several factors: I had enjoyed the Beethoven symphonies recorded by the Tonhalle Zürich Orchestra under David Zinman, I have enjoyed a number of Järvi’s recordings (including a YouTube video of him leading the Frankfurt Symphony in Mendelssohn’s First), and my general enthusiasm for Mendelssohn’s melodic gift. I will freely confess to being hardly any sort of Mendelssohn expert at all; in fact, not often do I listen to any of his symphonies – when I listen to Mendelssohn, it is much more likely to be one of his string quartets. But I am familiar with the symphonies, and looked forward to hearing what Järvi and his Zurich musicians could conjure.

I must say I was impressed. The energy and excitement generated by the orchestra made the music really come to life. I’m not sure, of course, that this is the way the music is always “supposed” to sound, and I must confess to not comparing this set to any other sets. No, I was not really listening as a critic; I was just enjoying the heck out of the music.  And that’s my honest, albeit superficial take on this delightful release. 

Bruckner and Bates: Orchestral Works (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Bruckner: Symphony No. 7 in E Major (1863, Edition Nowak); Bates: Resurrexit. Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra; Manfred Honeck, conductor. Reference Recordings FR-757SAC

Listening to Bruckner can be exhausting. That statement is not meant as a slight against its quality; in fact, it’s something of a compliment, for it is the very quality and intensity of the music – and yes, its length and oft-repetitious structure – that can make listening to it an exhausting experience. But exhausting in a positive, satiated way. Based on my experience of seeing his Symphony No. 7 performed in concert, it also seemed to be an exhausting piece for the orchestra to play, for when the last notes of the finale finally faded away (it was the closing piece on the evening’s program, which had opened with something much lighter, a cello concerto by Haydn) Cello Concerto, many of the musicians in the orchestra looked as though they had truly given it their all and had nothing left to give. Given the power and intensity these Pittsburgh players bring to their playing on this release, which was pulled together from live performances recorded over March 25-27, 2022, I would imagine there were more than a few exhausted-looking countenances.

 

As is his custom, Maestro Honeck provides extensive notes on the music, not only its history and context, but also his approach to performance. Honeck observes that “throughout the music, Bruckner takes special care to notate specific expressive directions, for example the markings of ‘solemn’ or ‘misterioso,’ words that on the surface perhaps seem to have more to do with feeling than tempo. I view these, however, as direct clues to the tempo character, not only defining the expressive intent, but also signaling tempo modifications that would have been understood as part of the sensibility of the time. It is interesting to note that over time, these conventions would later come to be stretched to an extreme, leading Gustav Mahler to provide even clearer artistic instructions to the musicians, such as ‘don’t drag’ or ‘short break like a breath.’ Ultimately, I believe that with Bruckner, a balance must be found in honoring the expressive intent hidden within the musical text rather than merely focusing on pure execution. Just as Anton Bruckner himself remarked, ‘… many important things are not noted in the score’ …”

Maestro Honeck leads his Pittsburgh forces in a powerful performance that is captured in convincing sonic splendor by the engineering team from Soundmirror, the Boston-based firm that Reference Recordings employs for its Pittsburgh sessions. Reference Recordings made its name based on its audiophile-quality sound (“Professor Johnson’s Astounding Sound Show”), so if they trust Soundmirror to record for them, you know that Soundmirror knows what they are doing. This is Bruckner played and recorded superbly. 

Mason Bates

Honeck likes to include music by contemporary composers on his Pittsburgh recordings; this time around, that contemporary composer is Philadelphia-born Mason Bates (b. 1977), whose Resurrexit was commissioned by the Pittsburgh Symphony in honor of Maestro Honeck’s 60^th birthday. It is an amazing piece, 11 minutes of spellbinding musical excitement. It opens with a quasi-Middle Eastern sound, developing with brass, percussion, ultimately building into Telarc-level bass drum explosions that underpin passages of controlled orchestral fury. It is one of the most remarkable orchestral compositions I have auditioned in years. Exhilarating! 

With a first-rate Bruckner Seventh, an exciting piece by Bates, audiophile sound, and extensive liner notes, this is a recording not to be missed. Besides this physical SACD (I auditioned the CD layer), it is also available on several of the major streaming services; in addition, it can be downloaded in a variety of high-resolution formats from the Reference Recordings website.

 

Micah Thomas: Reveal (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Little Doctor (take 2); Look at the Birds; Lightning; Eros; Sacred Memory; Little Doctor (take 1); Stars; Troubled Mind; Denardirn. Micah Thomas, piano; Dean Torrey, bass; Kayvon Gordon, drums. Artwork Records ARTR004CD

 

Those who have been following Classical Candor for a while know that I periodically throw in a review of a jazz album along with a brief explanation of why I believe jazz ought to be taken seriously as a form of chamber music. In this particular case, we have music by a piano trio: a jazz piano trio consisting of piano, bass, and drums, as opposed to a classical piano trio, which would consist of piano, violin, and cello. A famous example of the latter was the so-called “Million-Dollar Trio” of pianist Arthur Rubinstein, cellist Gregor Piatigorsky, and violinist Jascha Heifetz. They were given the nickname by a critic; unfortunately, Rubinstein hated the name so much that he couldn’t wait to leave the group, so their career was a brief one. A much more enduring example was the fames Beaux Arts Trio, which was anchored by its founding pianist Menahem Pressler throughout its 53-year career. 

 

Notable jazz piano trios of the past have included the Bill Evans Trio, Keith Jarrett’s “Standards” Trio, and the Esbjörn Svensson Trio; current leading jazz piano trios include The Brad Mehldau Trio, the Bobo Stenson Trio, GoGo Penguin, and the Vijay Iyer Trio. Now we have another young pianist leading a trio – and Micah Thomas, who was born in Columbus, Ohio, in 1997, is clearly ready to enter the upper echelon. His musical life started young, picking out tunes on the keyboard at 2, playing concerts with as a high schooler with jazz violinist Christian Howes, earning a scholarship to Juilliard, going on to play with jazz luminaries such as Lage Lund, Immanuel Wilkins, Ambrose Akinmusire, and Billy Drummond. 

 

On Reveal, he works with bassist Torrey and drummer Gordon to bring us nine tracks that they recorded in one seven-hour session. What is especially interesting is that Thomas reveals that they “recorded it in the same room without isolation booths and with only minimal buffering, and while that set-up came with its own challenges (mainly, not being able to hear everything everybody was playing with crystal clarity through headphones), I think that we all benefitted from a powerful sense of relaxed creativity, and the actual experience of creating one unified sound.” The three musicians combine to produce music that swings, sparkles, and stimulates. Thomas can play with speed and power, yet he never seems to be playing an extra unneeded note. The music is clean, it’s tight, and it’s easy to recommend.

Silvestrov: Orchestral Works (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Symphony for Violin and Orchestra “Widmung” (“Dedication”); Postludium for Piano and Orchestra. Janusz Wawroski, violin; Jurgis Karnavičius, piano; Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra; Christopher Lyndon-Gee, conductor. NAXOS 8.574413

The Ukrainian composer Valentin Silvestrov was born in Kyiv in 1937. In March of 2022, at the age of 84, he left his home city with his daughter, granddaughter, and a suitcase full of manuscripts to undertake the difficult three-day journey to Berlin. He found himself and his family refugees, victims of the invasion of their home country ordered by Russian leader Vladimir Putin. His music is like no other. At times it floats serenely, but at other times can suddenly shout as though having a terrifying dream or disturbing memory. But much of it seems to allude rather than refer, suggest rather than imply, playing with memories of melodies, suggestions of sounds, reminders of rhythms. We have enjoyed numerous albums Silvestrov albums over the years and have reviewed a few, which you can read here (a release from pianist Helene Grimaud that also features some music by Mozart), here (choral music), and not quite a review – merely a recommendation – that you can read here.

Christopher Lyndon-Gee

But here we have orchestral music by Silvestrov, music that displays in full measure the unique sound world that Silvestrov inhabits. There are composers who just have a sound. Sibelius, for example, even though his symphonies vary in style, has an orchestral sound that is easy to hear. So it is with Silvestrov. When I first listened to the Symphony for Violin and Orchestra that opens this album, my mind was immediately drawn back to the first Silvestrov compositions I had ever encountered. Three decades ago, violinist Gidon Kremer headlined a CD release on the Teldec label that included this very composition – “Dedication” – coupled with a work titled Post Scriptum for violin and piano. It struck me at the time as an amazing work, like nothing I had never heard before. I could only think that had Mahler lived maybe five or ten years longer, he may have written something along these lines. Maybe… 

According to the NAXOS booklet, “when Gidon Kremer first heard his own recording of the work he spontaneously shouted out, ‘Death in Venice!’ And, after a moment, then closer to the truth, ‘Death in Kyiv!’... This music is like a Mass for everything that exists that is desirable, unattainable, or only to be arrived at in one’s imagination.”  Kremer’s reaction takes me back more than 50 years, back to my discovery of the music of Gustav Mahler, when as a young G.I. stationed in Germany I took a chance on a Deutsche Grammophon LP I found on sale for $1.25 in a PX in Stuttgart: the soundtrack to Visconti’s film Death in Venice, which featured several movements from Mahler symphonies. One listen and I was hooked for life. It was the same with Silvestrov ever since I first heard Dedication. This new release has meant reconnecting with something precious.

Postludium maintains a similar sound world, but of course with the piano rather than the violin as the featured instrument. Note that neither of these two pieces is described as a concerto; indeed, neither features a soloist showing off virtuoso chops to orchestral accompaniment. From the liner notes: “Malcolm MacDonald has said of Silvestrov’s music, that he ‘seems to compose, not the lament itself, but the lingering memory of it, the mood of sadness that it leaves behind’.” It is music like no other; it deserves to be heard. Highly recommended.

Wagner: Preludes and Overtures (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring 

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg: Act I – Prelude; Rienzi: Overture; Lohengrin: Act I – Prelude; Lohengrin: Act III: - Prelude; Parsifal: Act III – Karffreitagszauber (“Good Friday Music”); Die Walküre: Act III – Ritt der Walküren (“Ride of the Valkeries”). St. Louis Symphony Orchestra; Jerzy Semkow, conductor. VOX-NX-3044CD

 

It’s always gratifying to see more recordings from the Vox vaults being given new life thanks to the good folks at NAXOS, who have begun digging out some of the old analog master tapes that had been recorded by Elite Recordings back in the 1970s and preparing new digital masters using state-of-the-art 192 kHz/24-bit technology. As the note on the back cover proclaims, “The Elite Recordings for Vox by legendary producers Marc Aubort and Joanna Nickrenz are considered by audiophiles to be amongst the finest sounding examples of orchestra recordings.” We have reviewed several of the previous Vox “Audiophile Edition” releases (e.g., Mozart piano concertos and a Rachmaninov symphony here and Rachmaninov piano concertos here). Those recordings featured the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Leonard Slatkin, who was the SLSO’s music director from 1979 to 1996.

 

Jerzy Semkow

This Wagner album finds the orchestra conducted by Slatkin’s immediate predecessor, the Polish-born Jerzy Semkow (1928-2014), who served as SLSO music director from 1975 to 1979. The notes do not specify the recording dates, mentioning only that the original LP was released in 1978. To be honest, there are so many Wagner orchestral “Overtures & Preludes” albums to choose from on the market that this new Vox release faces some stiff competition. Its virtues include the excellent Elite Recordings sound that NAXOS has so carefully transferred from the original analog master tapes to contemporary digital format plus the straightforward, no-nonsense approach Semkow brings to Wagner’s music. These scores are colorful and expressive enough without a conductor having to add his own fits of frenzy. The liner notes by the late music critic Richard Freed (1928-2022) are a model of content and clarity, making this release especially recommendable to those just beginning their acquaintance with the music of Richard Wagner. 

American Dreams

by Bill Heck

Duke Ellington: Night Creature (arr. David Berger); George Gershwin: An American in Paris (ed. M. Clauge); Leonard Bernstein: Symphonic Suite from “On the Waterfront”. Cincinnati Sympyhony Orchestra, cond. Louis Louis Langrée.  Fanfare Cincinnati. Available on most streaming platforms or for download from multiple sources.

Let me begin with a personal story: my wife and I lived in southwestern Ohio for about 10 years and during that period attended many Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra performances. This was during Paavo Jarvi’s tenure as Music Director, and we left the area a few years before Louis Langrée took over. However, we returned a few times each year, our visits often including trips with friends to attend CSO concerts. On one of these occasions, we were invited backstage after the concert and were privileged to meet with Maestro Langrée for a few moments of truly enjoyable and educational conversation. Give these experiences, not to mention the quality of  the many performances that we heard there over the years, I've always had warm, fuzzy feelings for the Cincinnati Symphony. So you have been warned: in reviewing the album, I'm a homer.

Duke Ellington

All three of the works here can be classified as "crossover" pieces, in the sense that they attempt to fuse popular musical approaches with the classical tradition. However, at least to my mind, that sort of language is, at best, hopelessly vague. The classical music tradition, or perhaps I should say the art music tradition, encompasses a huge range of styles and influences. Bringing jazz idioms, as in the case of the first two works, or traditions of musical theater, as in the case of the third, to classical music is just another milestone on a very long road. As Duke Ellington observed “There are two kinds of music. Good music, and the other kind.”

And speaking of Mr Ellington, the first piece in the collection here is his Night Creature. The work is deliberately symphonic, having been composed for the united forces of Ellington's big band plus a symphony orchestra. Although this is not generally regarded as one of Ellington's masterpieces, it sounds pretty appealing to me. (Hardly surprising, as it’s hard to believe that Ellington ever wrote really bad music.) We might also note that the “night creatures” are not the stock of horror films or cinema noir; instead they are fantasies, perhaps based on the people who inhabit the nighttime world in which musicians such as Ellington work and whom Ellington found fascinating.

George Gershwin

The booklet that accompanies the album is not explicit on where the "big band" musicians came from; some seem to be orchestra members, although the five saxophonists listed are referred to as "substitute musicians." Whatever the case. I'm old enough to have heard a couple of honest-to-goodness big bands: the playing here recalls the best of those, with solid timing and just a hint of the required swing without falling into the galumphing that too often was heard in the waning days of big band era (and is sometimes heard when classical musicians are trying just a little too hard to be jazzy). Langrée has everything moving along nicely and the balances allow us to hear into the heart of the arrangements.

Gershwin's An American in Paris is one of those pieces that you may have a hard time recalling until, upon hearing the first notes, you say "oh yeah, I know that!" The arrangement here for symphony orchestra has been around for a long time, but Langrée and the Cincinnatians make it sound like the piece was written just for them. The first word that occurred to me as I heard the opening bars was "lively" and I mean that in the best possible way: there's energy and crispness galore. Of course, tempos change as the music progresses and the moods vary, but the performance really is spot on throughout. The performance also is relaxed – and no, I'm not contradicting myself after saying that it's lively. I mean that it's relaxed in the sense that any professional makes their activity seem smooth and easy, regardless of how difficult it really might be at any moment.

Leonard Bernstein

The final work here, Bernstein's suite from On the Waterfront, is just what it sounds like: a collection of pieces from Bernstein’s score for the film of that name. (In the end, Bernstein was not happy with how his score was manipulated in the film; that’s presumably why he never wrote another movie score.) I've never been much of a fan of suites derived from film scores, as I generally miss the visual cues that help to make sense of the music; for me, this work is no exception. Still, although the piece in its entirety is not quite my cup of tea, I certainly can hear moments of appealing and interesting music, and the playing is more than up to par. If you're a Bernstein fan or more sympathetic than I to compositions of this sort, I think you'll be happy indeed. By now, it should go without saying that Langrée and the CSO make an excellent case for the work.

I can't close without remarking on the quality of the recording. The recording team of Dirk Sorbotka and Mark Donahue have done a masterful job indeed: balances are impeccable, the perspective is realistic, and there's just the right amount of hall sound to lend body without muddying up the presentation. Amazingly, these works were all recorded live; the audience must have been very healthy and quite enraptured, as there are no coughs, sneezes, or sounds of impatience. Indeed, the only indication that the audience was there at all is enthusiastic applause at the end of each work; frankly, I could have done without that bit – but my reaction is a minor quibble. A slightly more important quibble, although not a showstopper, is that the album notes available through streaming services and downloads give some interesting information about the history of the Cincinnati Symphony but lack any discussion of the music being played. However, detailed program notes are available through the CSO website, although it takes some digging to find them. (So that you don't need to do the digging, I've included a link right here.) Surely most listeners would be interested in these notes; it's a pity that a better arrangement for accessing them is not readily available.

You know, sometimes trying to review an album can be tiring (or even depressing if things are not so good). But sometimes, putting on a new album, and even listening a few times to really get into it, can be a delight. This album is one of the latter: it’s just flat out fun. If you were at all interested in the music, and you should be, have a listen!

Colorado MahlerFest XXXVI (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring 

Thea Musgrave: Phoenix Rising; Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 2 “Resurrection.” April Fredrick, soprano; Stacey Rishoi, mezzo-soprano; Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra; Boulder Concert Chorale; Kenneth Woods, Artistic Director & Conductor. Purchase information can be found here.

 

We have previously encountered American conductor Kenneth Woods in his role as conductor of the English Symphony Orchestra, where he has often championed the works of contemporary composers. But Woods wears another hat as Artistic Director of the Colorado MahlerFest and conductor of their orchestra. Colorado MahlerFest is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization founded in 1988 that presents an annual, weeklong festival celebrating Mahler’s life and music as well as the works of composers who influenced Mahler and by composers whom Mahler in turn influenced. The orchestra is anchored by the “festival artists” who comprise the section principals and leaders. These musicians, who are all either major orchestra principals, professors, or experienced chamber musicians, do much of the recruiting for the orchestra in addition to anchoring the chamber music concerts that are also part of MahlerFest. In 2005, the International Gustav Mahler Society of Vienna awarded Colorado MahlerFest its rarely bestowed Mahler Gold Medal. MahlerFest was honored alongside the New York Philharmonic, joining such past recipients as the Vienna Philharmonic and Leonard Bernstein. Last year, we reviewed MahlerFest XXXV, which featured a truly ambitious program: the grand Symphony No. 3 by Mahler along with the world premiere concert performance of Symphony No. 10 by the late English composer Christopher Gunning (1944-2023). 

This time around we are reviewing their latest CD release, which was recorded at the featured concert of MahlerFest XXXVI. As their online publicity material described it, “MahlerFest XXXVI celebrates humanity’s capacity for resilience and renewal in a festival week that culminates with Mahler’s monumental Symphony No. 2 and Thea Musgrave’s Phoenix Rising. The theme for that concert, which was held on Sunday, May 31, 2023, was “Rise Again,” which captures the spirit of the music that is featured on this release. 

The Scottish composer Thea Musgrave (b. 1928), who has lived in the United States since 1972, writes of her composition Phoenix Rising, “my original sketches for this work imagined an extended single movement progressing from darkness (low and fast) to light (high, slow, and peaceful). This idea became focused dramatically in my mind only some months later, when, by chance, I saw a sign ‘Phoenix Rising’ hanging outside a Virginia coffee shop. As I like to interpret the ancient fable of the phoenix rising from the ashes as the promise of hope and rebirth, this sign struck me immediately as a visualization of what my piece was really about. Phoenix Rising is a single-movement orchestral work of about 23 minutes. The centerpiece is the magical moment when the phoenix rises. After an initial section wherein the orchestra depicts a world of stormy violence leading to a terrain of emptiness and despair, a short section marked mysterious starts with low set chords. As they gradually rise to a luminous chord played by pitched percussion (marimba, vibraphone, xylophone, and glockenspiel), imagine the fabled bird unfolding his giant wings, poised for flight. The second half of the work, in contrast, builds to a romantic climax and a coda of serenity of peace.” Although the work leans toward the abstract side, it does not lack for drama or color. The clarity of the recording helps – and by clarity, I do not mean exaggerated, close-up sound. Rather, there is a natural sense of the orchestra spread out before you, with sounds coming from many locations within a large space, much as Musgrave describes. It is a colorful, at times dramatic score; however, those who favor hummable melodies will be disappointed.

 

Then comes the main attraction, the Mahler. Conductor Woods comments that “Following a performance of the first three movements organized by his friend and colleague Richard Strauss in Berlin in March 1895, the complete symphony finally received its premiere in December. That performance was also organized by Strauss. As this year’s speaker Renate Starke-Voit writes in the introductory notes to the New Critical Edition, ‘Few masterpieces have ever premiered under such inauspicious circumstances.’ How could it have been otherwise for a work whose last line can perhaps be best translated for today’s readers as ‘everything that you fought for, that is what will carry you to God’.” Regardless of your level of belief in God, nature, nothing, anything, or whatever, it is hard not to be moved by a stirring performance of this majestic symphony, which is just what Maestro Woods and his assembled musicians deliver. Everything sounds balanced, tempos sound well-judged. It is a very good, very well-recorded performance. Yes, I’d like to hear a big organ sound in the finale, and no, it won’t displace the Klemperer/EMI as my absolute favorite – but it’s still well worth an audition. The MahlerFest website is also well worth checking out (you can find it here.)

Sibelius 2 & 5 from Montreal (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross 

Sibelius: Symphony No. 2 in D, Op. 43; Symphony No. 5 in E-Flat, Op. 82. Yannick Nézet-Séguin, conductor; Orchestre Métropolitain de Montréal. ATMA Classique ACD 22453. 

If I am counting correctly, this is the third release in Yannick Nézet-Séguin’s and the Orchestre Métropolitain de Montréal’s Sibelius symphony cycle on the ATMA Classique label. Presumably it is also the penultimate one, with just the Sixth and the Seventh left of the Finnish master’s numbered symphonies to fill the final entry. (This is assuming, of course, that the Kullervo Symphony won’t be included.) To be honest, I was disappointed with the previous outings, which included the First Symphony (ACD 22452), and the Third and Fourth coupled together (ACD 22454). I thought the Fourth better than the other two, but every one of these performances is dogged by issues of balance, tempo, and interpretive direction. While I am happy to report that this latest disc is an overall improvement, these issues remain to varying degrees, with the Fifth less affected by them overall than the Second. 

We’ll save the best for last and start with the Second Symphony. The good news is that Nézet-Séguin has a better sense of architecture and climactic arrival here than in the previous symphonies, though some musical summits are still a touch sluggish and pallid. The changes of tempo, too, are less pronounced than before, though pauses between phrases, sections, and changes of tempo can be noticeably labored. For instance, take the material directly after the opening figure’s statement, or the slowdown at Rehearsal H in the same movement. Nézet-Séguin is overly fond of rubato. This works in some of the more effusive Romantic repertoire, such as that by Tchaikovsky or Mahler, but it can easily be overdone even in early Sibelius. Luckily, the more sectional/non-sonata structures of the remaining movements conceal such momentum issues better, though the lunga at about three measures before Rehearsal E in the second movement is noticeably over-milked. 

 

A problem equally present throughout is that of balance. Usually this comes in the form of the strings overpowering the woodwinds when both are present, as in the “development” section of the first movement. But the opposite happens in the second movement, again at Rehearsal E where the string melody needs to be better projected. Most seriously, while the string playing is generally of high quality, I discern occasional instances where the woodwinds do not quite play sharply or together. Such spots include their sounding slightly out of sync three measures before Rehearsal D in the second movement, and at Rehearsal B in the finale. Leading up to the latter point, the timpani is much too abrasive at the poco forte. (I don’t hear much “poco!”) All in all, however, this performance is a definite advance beyond the same musicians’ Sibelius First. 

 

At the risk of eating my words after the next release, Nézet-Séguin seems to have a better feeling for later Sibelius. This Fifth is the best-performed symphony of the cycle so far, and the first one I can fully get behind. Here the tempo issues that bothered me so much elsewhere seem to have resolved. It was a nice surprise to have everything on this front be well judged. Minor issues of balance (for instance, overpowering strings preceding Rehearsal G in the first movement) and articulation (the winds again in just a few places, mostly during the first and second movements) do not significantly mar a solid performance. The finale is especially good, with a great opening tempo, subtly layered dynamics, and a generally firm grip on the musical action. Balance problems in this interpretation recede into insignificance, with an excellent string-woodwind dynamic at Rehearsal N particularly worthy of mention. The long, drawn-out ending is delivered convincingly. I hope this performance’s success is a harbinger of what’s yet to come. 

 

So what we have here is an okay Second Symphony and a good Fifth. Does this add up to a firm recommendation? I would have to say no. While it’s the best yet of Nézet-Séguins’s and the OMM’s Sibelius symphony cycle, this recording still comes up short of what I would consider to be the top-tier choices for Nos. 2 and 5. Likewise, the upcoming release of the Seventh will have to be fabulous indeed to enter this category. The good news is that there are relatively few great performances of the Sixth Symphony, which so many conductors seem to not “get” very well. A stellar showing in that work could do much to distinguish a cycle that for me is otherwise shaping up to be unremarkable.

Recent Releases No. 74 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Cantabile: Anthems for Viola. Jonathan Harvey: Chant; Vaughan Williams: Romance; Bright Sheng: The Stream Flows; Bax: Sonata for Viola and Piano; Augusta Read Thomas: Song Without Words; Britten: Lachrymae: Reflections on a song of Dowland. Jordan Bak, viola; Richard Uttley, piano. Delphian DCD34317

The 29-year-old Jamaican-American violist Jordan Bak brings us music by composers both familiar and less well known on this new Delphian release. The opening selection, Chant, is a short (3:33) piece for solo viola written in 1992 by the British composer Jonathan Harvey (1939-2012). It has an edge to it but is never overly strident or harsh; if anything, it offers Bak an excellent way to grab our attention as he shows how his viola can speak – “chant” – with passion and expressive power. Then he brings us an unfamiliar piece from a familiar composer, the soothingly beautiful Romance by Vaughan Williams, for which he is joined by pianist Richard Uttley. This music is the serene, pastoral music for which Vaughan Williams is so beloved on both sides of the Atlantic, with both Bak and Uttley playing with conviction and warmth. More music for solo viola follows, with The Stream Flows by the Chinese-American composer Bright Sheng (b. 1955) seeming to flow naturally out from the RVW that precedes it, continuing along in a similar pastoral mood.

Pianist Uttley returns to join Bak for the remainder of the album, beginning with the next composition, the centerpiece of the program, Bax’s Sonata for Viola and Piano, which he began working on in 1920 and completed in 1922. The legendary violist Lionel Tertis gave the first performance, accompanied by the composer himself on piano. It is a substantial work in three movements, lasting about 28 minutes as performed here by Bak and Uttley. The first moment is lyrical and lovely, the second is more dramatic, and then the final movement is again lyrical, but with more of a somber feeling. It is a truly entertaining, engaging, and moving piece of music overall, with the rich tone of Bak’s viola being the perfect vehicle for Bax’s melodic gift. 

Next on the program is another work by a composer unfamiliar to me, Song without Words by the American composer Augusta Read Thomas (b. 1964). The work exists in several versions, this arrangement for viola and piano having been specifically created for Bak and Uttley. According to the CD booklet, “the work’s gestures and myriad expressive details are directly informed by the poem; ‘I have found what you are like’ by E.E. Cummings, with Read Thomas’s music responding to and projecting its deep layers of meaning without uttering a word.” It’s an enigmatic piece, with ruminative lines from the viola punctuated by stabbing, inquisitive little phrases from the piano. Both instruments seem representative of a mind deep in thought and reflection. The program then closes with Britten’s Lachrymae, a series of 11 short “Reflections on a song of Dowland” by Benjamin Britten. This is a rather severe work, the least tuneful on the program. Some listeners will enjoy some of its moments of musical intensity, while others may find it somewhat on the abstract and disjointed side.

On the plus side, the liner notes are excellent, as is the sound quality. With more than 67 minutes of interesting viola music, this new Delphian release should have great appeal to fans of quality chamber music.

Zartir. Georges I. Gurdjieff, Thomas de Hartmann: Pythia; No. 10; Sayyid Chant and Dance No. 41; Introduction and Funeral Ceremony; Oriental Dance; Kankaravor Enker (Friend of Talents); Ashugh Jivani: Dard Mi Ani (Do Not Fret); Sayat-Nova: Thirty Gestures; Gurdjieff, de Hartmann: Prayer and Despair; Sayyid Chant and Dance No. 42; Ashkharhes Me Panjarae (The World Is a Window); Sayat-Nova: Trembling Dervish; Baghdasar Dpir: Zartir (Wake Up); Gurdjieff, de Hartmann: The Great Prayer. The Gurdjieff Ensemble (Vladimir Papikyan, voice, santur, burvar, tmbuk, singing bowls; Emmanuel Hovhannisyan: duduk, pku; Meri Vardanyan, kanon; Armen Ayvazyan, kamancha, cymbal; Gagik Hakobyan; duduk; Norayr Gapoyan, duduk, bass duduk, pku; Avag Margaryan; blul; Aram Nikoghosyan; Oud; Astghik Snetsunts, kanon; Davit Avagyan, tar; Mesrop Khalatyan, dap, tmbuk, bells, triangle; Orestis Moustidis, tombak; Levon Eskenian, Artistic Director; National Chamber Choir of Armenia, Robert Mlkeyan, director. ECM 2788

Quoting from Wikipedia, “George Ivanovich Gurdjieff (c. 1867 – 29 October 1949) was a philosopher, mystic, spiritual teacher, composer, and ‘dance teacher.’ Gurdjieff taught that people are not conscious of themselves and thus live their lives in a state of hypnotic ‘waking sleep,’ but that it is possible to awaken to a higher state of consciousness and serve our purpose as human beings.” As a composer, he sometimes collaborated with the Ukraine-born composer Thomas de Hartmann. On this album from the ECM label, the Lebanese-born Armenian musician Levon Eskenian, (b. 1978) who founded the Gurdjieff Ensemble in 2008, has arranged music by Gurdjieff and de Hartmann along with some tunes by Armenian bards and troubadours, including the title piece Zartir by Baghdasar Dpir (1683-1768). “Zartir” means “Wake up!” and its lyrics seem to echo Gurdjieff’s teaching that humanity is asleep and that people need to be roused from their unenlightened state.

The simplicity of the arrangements and the natural acoustic sounds of the folk instruments employed mean that although the language and instruments may be generally unfamiliar to Western ears, the music should have an immediate appeal. The CD booklet contains texts and background information that provides helpful context; in addition, the engineering is first-rate. For those willing to open their ears to some sounds from outside the mainstream, Zartir is well worth an audition.  

Important Announcement

by Karl Nehring

Starting in August, Classical Candor will no longer publish reviews on a regular schedule as we have done for so many years. Bill Heck and I, who have been running the site since the retirement late last year of the site’s founder, John Puccio, have decided the time has finally come to step back from our current level of commitment. 

However, we are not completely abandoning Classical Candor. Although we will no longer be committed to publishing on a regular schedule of two posts per week, we will still be posting reviews, but on an irregular, occasional basis. Our love for music is as strong as ever – maybe stronger – and when we come across recordings that we really enjoy, we’d love to tell you about them.

 

In addition, we plan to continue to update the list of Recommended Classical Recordings. We will post sections of the list on a rotating basis So there are plenty of good reasons to continue to follow Classical Candor far into the future.

Between Two Worlds (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Prokofiev: Overture on Hebrew Themes Op. 34 (for clarinet, string quartet, and piano); Joel Engel: The Dybbuk Suite Op. 35 (for clarinet, strings, and percussion); Paul Ben-Haim: Quintet Op. 31a (for clarinet and string quartet). Guy Yehuda, clarinet; Dmitri Berlinsky, violin; Yvonne Lam, violin; Eric Nowlin, viola; Suren Bagratuni, cello; Kevin Brown, bass; John Weber, percussion; Eric Zuber, piano. Reference Recordings FR-754 

 

It is always fun and uplifting to run across recordings of unfamiliar music performed by unfamiliar artists and find the experience a musical and sonic delight. Of course, when the release is from the Reference Recordings label, you can be awfully darn confident that the sound quality will be first-class, so it was easy enough to just sit back and listen to the music without even thinking about the sound – just the music, which is as it should be. In the interest of full disclosure, I should also mention that I am by nature predisposed to enjoy music that features the clarinet, my instrument. Oh, I haven’t seriously played the clarinet since high school, where I played both B-flat and bass clarinet (and was better on the latter, but mediocre at best on both, to be honest). To this day, I love the sound of the clarinet, which melts my heart and seduces my ear. Oh, my goodness…

Where was I? Oh yes, writing of this new recording, on which clarinetist Guy Yehuda and friends deliver a program comprising three twentieth century works that reflect Jewish cultural influences. Prokofiev’s Overture on Hebrew Themes was inspired when Prokofiev, who was not Jewish, encountered a group of Russian Jewish musicians known as the Zimro Ensemble. This group, which was led by a celebrated clarinetist Simeon Bellison, gave a celebrated concert in Carnegie Hall when Prokofiev was living in New York, met Prokofiev, gave him a notebook of Jewish melodies, and requested that the composer write a piece for them. The end result is the delightful composition that opens this disc.

Joel Engel (1868-1827) was born in Russia but worked in Berlin and Jerusalem, He recorded folk music from small Jewish villages and published many of the melodies, which meant that he influenced many later composers who came to incorporate some of these Jewish melodies and themes into their music, e.g., Prokofiev, Shostakovich, Stravinsky, and Bernstein, For a time, Engels’s own music was largely forgotten, but is now being brought back to life, as in the recording. This colorful music, expressive and lively; it makes you want to hear more by this composer.

 

The late Israeli composer Paul Ben-Haim (1897-1984) should be more familiar to most readers. Ben-Haim was born in Munich and for a time served as an assistant conductor to Bruno Walter and Hans Knappertsbusch before becoming conductor at the Augsburg opera. He fled Germany for Israel (then British Mandate Palestine) in 1933) to flee Nazi rule. His Quintet is in three movements that are captivating from start to finish, especially the second movement Capriccio that crackles with wit and energy. The final movement is in theme and variations form, with an enigmatic ending, thoughtful and spare. It’s a beautifully thought-out composition.

 

Finally, I must make mention of the CD booklet, which is exemplary. Not only does it provide useful information about the music, the composers, the musicians, but it is also adorned with photographs and entertaining artwork. All in all, Between Two Worlds is truly a world-class release.