To Tomorrow and Beyond...

by Karl Nehring

Today is July 31, 2024. As we have announced previously, as of this date, Classical Candor will no longer be posting reviews on our regular schedule of two per week, with those reviews appearing every Monday and Thursday morning. However, we are not disappearing completely; we will still be posting reviews from time to time, so we invite you to keep checking the site to see what pops up.

Brahms: Sonatas for Violin (Streaming Review)

by Bill Heck

Sonatas for Piano and Violin: Akiko Suwanai (violin), Evgeni Bozhanov (piano). Decca. Available on most streaming platforms or for download from multiple sources.

One might have several different thoughts when encountering an album like this. First, there are plenty of recordings of the Brahms Sonatas for Violin and Piano; with such mainstream repertoire, someone is sure to ask whether yet another version is really needed. To my mind, though, that question is easy to answer: there's always room for a well-played, well-recorded set. Does this set qualify? Read on for my take.

Another thought is to marvel at the number of superb performers out there in the classical world who are hugely talented but not quite at the “star” (or to use the redundant term, “superstar”) level. Ms. Suwanai, for example, was the youngest winner ever of the Tchaikovsky piano competition in 1990, has had a flourishing concert career since then, and has released several albums well received by critics. Even so, I would wager that many of our readers have never heard her name, much less heard any of her performances. Mr. Bozhanov is even less well-known, but, as demonstrated here, is a very talented musician and has had a strong career of his own. 

One might also wonder about how albums such as this are marketed and sold. This release is on the Decca label, but a search for it on the Decca website comes up empty. (I know, I know: Decca now is part of Universal Music, but I looked - it's not there either.) The album is readily available for download on the usual sites and is available on major streaming platforms (in my case, Qobuz). Interestingly, the album also is available on SACD – but only if sourced from Japan. (The Japan connection makes a certain amount of sense: it appears that Kawai, Japanese manufacturer of pianos, has a tie-in of some sort with Mr. Bozhanov, so I am guessing that Kawai has sponsored the concert tour in which these musicians play all three sonatas. Moreover, that tour has been focused in East Asia.) So far so good, but returning to Decca, it certainly would have been nice if they had provided any information at all on the album, its background, the performers, or anything else related to this release. It's all very confusing.

Johannes Brahms

Fortunately, there’s a little information in an unexpected source: an interview with the musicians that was posted on the Kawai website. (You can read it here.) The interview actually is about the aforementioned concert tour, but close enough; I’ll refer to this interview below.

Now on to the music at hand. It’s more guesswork on my part, but I would wager that many readers are not familiar with much of Brahms’s chamber music. Symphonies, sure; concertos, no doubt; solo piano works, likely enough. But sonatas for violin? Perhaps not so much. Well, these sonatas certainly make the case that this music should indeed be better known. They are lovely and, for the most part, highly personal and even passionate works; moreover, their compositions span a fair segment of Brahms career. The first was composed across the summers of 1878 and 1879; the work shares thematic materials from two of Brahms lieder and the performers discuss it as his most songful of the sonatas. The second was written in the summer of 1886 and is a happy work, composed in a period of great productivity for Brahms. The third was finished in 1888 and is more ambitious in a formal sense than the other two, not to mention longer, with four movements instead of three, almost symphonic in construction according to the performers interview mentioned above.

Akiko Suwanai

Again referring to the interview, Suwanai and Bozhanov, particularly the latter, make much of their approach as being rooted in performances from the early to mid-20th century. (Keep in mind that Brahms died in 1897, which suggests that many performers in the early 20th century would have known him and in some cases would have heard him play his own compositions; they certainly would have heard performances by artists who had played for or with Brahms. Even in mid-century, we are only a generation removed from those with direct contact with Brahms.) But this is where the absence of booklet/liner notes for this album is keenly felt: it's difficult to know exactly what performance characteristics they are talking about. Suwanai and Bozhanov do mention expressiveness, and I certainly would call the performances expressive as opposed to sterile or mechanical. At the same time, there are plenty of other performances that seem expressive as well, in some cases taking more liberties with tempi and tone. I certainly do hear differences between their performances and others that I listened to during the review process, but I did not discern aspects of the playing that were consistently different.

Evgeni Bozhanov

Still, it's those differences that make these performances worth seeking out. I would find it difficult to single out any set as "the best", but I found these consistently engaging without being overly dramatic or going off the rails in search of effect. In particular, the two musicians work very well together, as one might expect given the incredible amount of rehearsal time that they mention as well as their experiences in live performances of the works.

One other aspect worthy of note here is the superb recording itself. By sheer good luck, I’ve been on a very enjoyable hot streak of finding truly excellent recordings lately, meaning excellent in the sonic sense. In this case, my only quibble might be a bit of weight lacking in the lower registers of the piano sound, but overall there is a clear presentation of two performers in real space, giving the illusion that they are in the room with the listener.

In summary then: Despite Decca's marketing non-effort, this album is well worth your time to audition, whether via downloading or streaming. No, it's unlikely to completely replace any other favorite that you might have, but music like this deserves more than one presentation. You also might find it worthwhile to check out other recordings by Ms. Suwanai; I fully intend to do so next.

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.