Ravel: The Complete Solo Piano Works (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Seong-Jin Cho, piano. Deutache Grammophon 486 6814

 

Before sitting down at my computer to write this review, I did a quick search for an old review I had done of a previous release of the complete solo piano music of Ravel so that I could provide a link to that review. To my surprise, however, I found that I never actually have posted a review of the complete Ravel piano solo works. Oh well, there’s a first time for everything, right?  

As seems to be the norm with DG these days, portraits of the artist – in this case, the young Korean pianist Seong-Jin Cho (b. 1994) – appear throughout the trifold digipack, his picture appearing twice on the inside as well as adorning both the front and back covers. The liner note booklet cover is duplicate of the front cover, and the gray and pink background colors are carried over throughout the booklet. The track listings are a bit of a strain to read because of minimal color contrast for the text. When it comes to the notes themselves, the good news is that the text is now black; the bad news is that the font is tiny – as in teeny-tiny. Even eyes much younger than mine may find the text difficult to discern.

 

Seong-Jin Cho is one of the rising young generation of talented pianists who are rapidly making a name for themselves on the international stage. He won the 2015 International Chopin Piano Competition at the age of 21, a remarkable achievement. His playing throughout these two CDs is impeccable: clean, precise, nimble. This approach works especially well in pieces such as Menuet Antique, where the clarity of his fingering (and of the engineering) makes the music come to life. Overall, the clarity of his playing makes for a satisfying listening experience, although that same precision and clarity can also at times lead to a feeling of sterility. Overall, then, a worthy release, one that will go on my shelf along with Abbey Simon (Vox) and Vlado Perlemuter (Nimbus), neither of which can match the sound quality of this new DG release. With 2025 marking the 150^th anniversary of Ravel’s birth, there are going to be a multitude of Ravel releases this year; if the quality of this one is any indication, it’s going to be a rewarding celebration.  

Beethoven Blues (Batiste Piano Series, Vol. 1) (CD Review)

 by Karl Nehring

Für Elise – Batiste; Symphony No. 5 Stomp; Moonlight Sonata Blues; Dusklight Movement; 7^th Symphony Elegy; American Symphony Theme; Ode to Joyful; 5^th Symphony in Congo Square; Waldstein Wobble; Life of Ludwig; Für Elise – Reverie. Jon Batiste, piano. Verve/Interscope 602475263807

 

Pianist and composer Jon Batiste ((b. 1986) is likely an unfamiliar figure to many fans of classical music; however, many others may well remember his 2015-2022 stint as bandleader on the popular television program, The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. (American) football fans might recall that it was Batiste who performed the national anthem at Super Bowl LIX. Born into a musically talented Louisiana family, Batiste recounts in his liner notes that “I spent a good amount of my youth competing in local classical music competitions and gigging in night haunts in the heart of New Orleans. For years now since childhood I have made a practice of going to the piano and reimagining classical music as if it were my own. As a precocious youth I’d alternate between reimagining music and composing my own things. I was often drawn to ben in conversation with Beethoven’s music. Over the years, many have asked if I’d consider recording a pure piano album. Beethoven Blues is the first volume of solo piano recordings to be released over the coming years.”

 

Elsewhere in the booklet we find this interesting statement: “All songs written by Ludwig van Beethoven and interpolated by Jon Batiste except ‘American Symphony Theme’, ‘Dusklight Movement’, and ‘Life of Ludwig’ written by Jon Batiste and published by Kobalt Publishing.” The word “interpolated” is unexpected; however, the expected “interpreted” is not quite correct. Batiste says of his creative process “starts with Beethoven’s original compositions and in real time I am creating something completely original within and inspired by them. I didn’t think about what I would play before sitting at the piano. Within the same performance, I aim to render a stellar modern interpretation of Beethoven’s original works while simultaneously extending the composition, shaping into an entirely new composition that somehow maintains the distinctive elements of the original.” In other words, Batiste sits down at the piano and brings to Beethoven some of his own musical cultural heritage – blues, wobble, stomp, swing, shout – and interpolates into what Beethoven has handed down.

At first hearing, the music can sound as though Batiste is simply adding a layer of stylistic gloss to Beethoven – some trills and frills, some flourishes meant to prettify and trivialize Beethoven’s music. But upon further, more reflective listening, the depth of what Batiste is doing begins to reveal itself, especially in the final track Für Elise – Reverie, a 15-minute deep dive into that familiar melody in which Batiste takes us on a musical and emotional journey as we listen to the freely flowing musical  sounds that are such an evocative blend of Beethoven, Batiste, and our own musical imaginations. Once we have had our minds attuned to Batiste’s approach by this final piece on the album, we can the go back and enjoy the whole of Beethoven Blues for what it is: an informed, informative, and thoroughly entertaining take on Beethoven from a talented musician with a unique and refreshing perspective.

John Field: Complete Nocturnes

 by Bill Heck 

Field: Nocturnes. Alice Sara Ott, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 4866239

Utter the word “nocturne“ to a lover of classical music and you are pretty much guaranteed that the name “Chopin” will come back. Indeed, for many of us, nocturnes for solo piano begin and end with Chopin. But it is more accurate to say that, whenever they “end”, nocturnes begin earlier, arguably with John Field.

Field lived from 1782 to 1837, straddling the transition from the Classical to early Romantic periods. Although Irish by birth (one of a relative handful of composers from the Emerald Isle), he spent most of his life elsewhere, first in England and later in Russia. Although he established a reputation as a major virtuoso in his early years, by the time of his death he was perceived as being somewhat out of date. Still, his works, especially those for solo piano and particularly the nocturnes, influenced composers like Schumann, Chopin of course, and even Liszt.

John Field

So what, pray tell, is a nocturne? The name translates roughly as “night piece”, which suggests quiet, gentle sounds; musically nocturnes are expected to be works for solo piano in which the left hand plays (mostly) arpeggiated chords while the right plays a melody. The earliest of Field’s nocturnes fit that pattern, but, as it is common with composers of merit, Field’s compositional techniques evolved so that his latter nocturnes go beyond this simple definition. It will surprise no one to hear that by the time Chopin came along, the definition was stretched to the breaking point, but one can still hear the echoes of those Fieldian beginnings.

Regardless of definitions and comparisons, Field’s nocturnes are more than worth seeking out. No, you won’t confuse Field’s works with those of the true master of the form, Chopin, but they are eminently listenable and enjoyable. While performances have not exactly flooded the market, there have been several recordings of the complete list of 18 that deserve mention, including those of John O’Connor from the 1990s and Tyler Hay from last year (2024). Now we have this very nice set from Alice Sara Ott, one that is right up there with the best.

Alice Sara Ott

Ott, born in Germany in 1988, proved a prodigy, doing well in youth piano competition at age 5 and winning a major German one at 7. An active recording and concert performance career has followed, with this album being, so far as I can tell, her tenth. She announced in 2019 that she had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, but thankfully that hardly seems to have affected her career; the list of upcoming engagements on her website makes me feel exhausted just reading it.

I find the playing here a “just right“ blend of straightforwardness and expressivity, bringing out the beauty and ingenuity of the works without engaging in distracting mannerisms or drawing attention to the performer rather than the music itself. It’s certainly not that Ott‘s playing is in any way mechanical, nor is there any lack of technical virtuosity (just listen to the clarity in the zippy, tinkling runs in number 12). But that virtuosity always seems to be in service of the music, sounding quite natural.

It certainly helps Ott’s cause that the DG recording is first-rate. The sound is close, but not too close, with just a bit of room sound, and is fully coherent, meaning it sounds like a real piano in a real place. It’s easy to immerse oneself in sound like this.

When I first ran across this album on my streaming service and heard these charming works, I blushed in mild shame to think that I was so unacquainted with Field’s oeuvre. But I was relieved to find in Ott’s personal but informative liner notes that she, too, knew next to nothing of Field’s nocturnes until she ran across them more or less by chance while searching for uplifting music during the worst of the Covid pandemic. First Ott, then me – and I suggest, dear reader, that you also may wish to become acquainted with these compositions in such excellent performances as found here.

Ruth Gipps Orchestral Works, Volume 3 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Coronation Procession, Op. 41; Ambarvalia, Op. 70; Concerto for Horn and Orchestra, Op. 58; Cringlemire Garden, Op. 29; Symphony No. 1, Op. 22. Martin Owen, horn; Rumon Gamba, conductor; BBC Philharmonic. Chandos 20284

In this third installment of Ruth Gipps’s orchestral music, Chandos shows that there is plenty else by the Englishwoman that is worth exploring. Indeed, a couple of what I consider to be her finest compositions are on this disc. I imagine that few listeners are somehow already familiar with the “dance” Ambarvalia, which receives its premiere recording here. Despite its modest playing time of just over 7 minutes, this tribute to composer Adrian Cruft (who died early in 1987) is one of the loveliest British orchestral works I have ever heard. If I am not mistaken, it is Gipps’s last composition for an orchestral ensemble (albeit a small orchestra in this case). By this point Gipps had fully assimilated her influences and was able to wield a distinctive personal voice. In her mature works she often loves to revel in rippling melody and turquoise hues. These are nowhere better evidenced than in Ambarvalia, which deserves to adorn live concerts with at least intermittent regularity. 

 

Of course, many horn players have long known the Horn Concerto of 1968, already the beneficiary of multiple recordings. While not exactly a miniature work like Ambarvalia, its three movements are relatively short and feature many of the same stylistic fingerprints. A certain pastoral dreaminess governs the proceedings despite some virtuosic passages for the soloist. But what we hear is not merely second-hand Vaughan Williams; Gipps’ aesthetic world here is very much her own, whatever she occasionally owes to her famous teacher. Soloist Martin Owens may lack some of David Pyatt’s glittering brilliance (Lyrita SRCD316), but the former’s velvety tone strikes me as a better fit for such a balmy score. 

 

Rumon Gamba

While I’m comparatively less impressed with the other works performed here, all of them offer at least pleasant listening experiences. Each is from earlier in Gipps’s career. The Coronation Procession of 1953 is approximately the length as Ambarvalia, although perhaps lacking its younger sibling’s stronger flavor. Savvy listeners might recall the middle section melody being used in Malcolm Arnold’s Variations on a Theme of Ruth Gipps (1977). (The two composers were close friends from their student days. They also had much in common as opponents of avant-gardism during the age of its ascendance.) In his unsurprisingly excellent liner notes, musicologist Lewis Foreman calls Cringlemire Garden a “pastoral miniature.” Gipps herself subtitled it “An Impression for String Orchestra.” Indeed, the inspiration was the Lake District landscape. Compared to everything heard so far, this work is more glaringly indebted to Vaughan Williams. Though nice, I am not sure it is strong enough to compete with its more distinguished models. 

The third item receiving its premiere recording here is Gipps’s First Symphony, composed in 1942. This is the product of a student. It’s an extremely impressive effort for being that, but stylistically pretty much “Vaughan Williams plus water” (to modify a criticism once leveled, less truthfully, at the music of Charles Villiers Stanford). While Gipps would go on to compose four more masterfully constructed symphonies, she never quite sounds as convincing in them as she does in her smaller creations. The themes and pastel colors with which she paints in selections such as Ambarvalia, or even the Horn Concerto, poorly transplant to more extended structures. As one can read from my published work, I’m far from a stickler for traditional “symphonic form.” Much the opposite! But Gipps simply fails to hold the (or my) attention in this medium as she does in the best of her more concentrated efforts. 

 

All in all, Volume 3 delivers a soundly worthwhile listening experience. Conductor Rumon Gamba and his musicians yet again adroitly give some worthy music good exposure. I can’t help thinking, though, as I partake of release upon release churned out by Chandos and others, about potential audiences. How much of even the best of this material is being heard, and by whom? How much stands to catch on or endure in the ever-fraught marketplace for classical music? This is all increasingly on my mind, with no concrete answers in sight.

Carlos Simon: Four Symphonic Works (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Simon: The Block; Tales: A Folklore Symphony; Songs of Separation*; Wake Up! Concerto for Orchestra. *J’Nai Bridges, mezzo-soprano; National Symphony Orchestra; Gianandrea Noseda, conductor. National Symphony Orchestra NSO0018 

Carlos Simon (b. 1986), Composer-in-Residence at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, is passionate about engaging in social outreach. Much of his musical output addresses themes that include migration, belonging, and community, with an emphasis on the transatlantic slave trade and the injustices people of African ancestry still face today. His upbringing as the son of a Pentecostal preacher has resulted in his music displaying classical forms in which often can be heard jazz, hip-hop, and gospel influences. Those influences are evident throughout this release, starting with The Block, a brief (6:37) orchestral piece that Simon wrote to capture the feeling of then visual art of the late African American artist Romare Bearden; indeed, the piece has a vibrant, colorful energy about it that immediately grabs your attention. Tales: A Folklore Symphony consists of four movements that Simon gives the fascinating titles: I. Motherboxx Connection, II. Flying Africans, III. Go Down Moses (Let my People Go), IV. John Henry. Simon explains the titles in his booklet notes, but it should be reasonably obvious that they are related to the themes mentioned above. The music itself is colorful -- and dramatic in places, especially in Go Down Moses, the longest movement. 

The Songs of Separation find Simon giving orchestral settings to four brief poems by Rumi – The Garden, Burning Hell, Dance, and We Are All the Same. The first finds the voice being overwhelmed by the orchestra, but the others – especially Burning Hell – are better balanced. The closing Wake Up! Concerto for Orchestra is a twenty-minute showpiece for the National Symphony Orchestra to display its virtuosity under the baton of its Music Director, the Italian-born conductor Gianandrea Noseda (b. 1964). There is a strong rhythmic sense throughout, with plenty of percussion and a continual sense of motion. Special note needs to be made of the overall high standard of this release in general. The physical product is sturdy, far superior to the typical CD package. This is a Hybrid-SACD release; I auditioned the standard CD layer, but the disc also includes a high-density stereo layer plus a 5.0 channel surround track that can be played back SACD players. There are informative liner notes about the music and the performers; not only that, the sound quality, with engineering by the renowned experts at Soundmirror, is first-class. This is a superb release in every dimension.

Chamber Works by Frederick Block (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Block: Piano Trio No. 2, Op 26; String Quartet, Op. 23; Suite, Op. 73 (for clarinet and piano); Quintet, Op. 19 (for two violins, viola, cello, and piano). ARC Ensemble (Erika Raum, violin; Marie Bérard, violin; Steven Dann, viola; Thomas Wiebe, cello; Valdepeñas, clarinet; Kevin Ahfat, piano). CHANDOS CHAN 20358

The ARC Ensemble consists of senior faculty from the Royal Conservatory of Music’s Glenn Gould School in Toronto, Canada. They have made a specialty of recovering and recording music that has been suppressed and marginalized under the 20th century’s repressive political regimes, releasing a series of recordings under the heading of “Music in Exile” on the Chandos label, this being the eighth, the others featuring music by composers Alberto Hemsi, Paul Ben-Haim, Jerzy Fitelberg, Szymon Laks, Walter Kaufmann, Robert Müller-Hartmann, and Dmitri Klebanov. This has been an excellent series of releases, several of which it has been our privilege and pleasure to review. You can find our review of their Hemsi release here, the Kaufmann release here, the Klebanov release here, and the Müller-Hartmann release here.

 

Frederick Block (1899-1945) was born in Vienna. His original name was Friedrich Bloch; he changed his name to Block upon his arrival in New York in 1940, where he had fled with his wife to avoid the persecution faced by Jews under the increasing Nazi persecution in Europe. The works on this release were all completed while Block was still in Vienna with the exception of the Suite for Clarinet and Piano, which he completed in 1944,, the year he became ill with a chronic cough and occasional stinging pains that by early in 1945 would be diagnosed as the cancer that would take his life just three months before his forty-sixth birthday and his qualification for American citizenship.

 

Thank goodness the ARC Ensemble has taken the initiative to bring what could have been overlooked music into the recording studio to be captured so that we music lovers might have the opportunity to hear it four ourselves. All four compositions are enjoyable and well worth a listen. The Piano Trio that opens the program has a light, melodic touch throughout its four brief movements, as all three instruments seem to be singing away. Likewise, the String Quartet, which moves along smartly, pleasing to the ear but never smarmy – the final movement grows serious, but never lapses into pretentiousness. The Suite for Clarinet and Piano serves as something of a palette cleanser, the sparkling sounds of the clarinet and piano in mostly brief little movements – entertaining but fleeting. Perhaps Block’s illness prevented him from writing more extended movements. The program then closes with a work back from 1929, the Quintet, the most formal-sounding composition of the four on this release. It’s not unpleasant – it just seems to lack some of the sense of spontaneity of the rest of the music. All in all, however, this is another highly recommendable release from the ARC Ensemble, who are doing a noble service for us all with their “Music in Exile” series of recordings.

Levit / Theilemann / Vienna: Brahms Piano Concertos

Brahms: (CD1) Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor, Op. 15; (CD2) Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat Major, Op. 83; (CD3) 7 Fantasias, Op. 116; 3 Intermezzi, Op. 117; 6 Piano Pieces, Op. 118; 4 Piano Pieces, Op. 119; Waltz, Op. 39/15 (version for piano 4 hands w/Christian Thielemann). Igor Levit, piano; Wiener Philharmoniker; Christian Thielemann, conductor. Sony Classics 19658897652

Both Bill Heck and Karl Nehring were interested in this release, so here we present both of their viewpoints.

Bill's Take:

When I saw this set as a “new release” on my streaming service (Qobuz), I had  high hopes: Levit is an extraordinary artist, and although I was only vaguely acquainted with Theilemann, the Vienna Philharmonic certainly is a known quantity. But I’ll get right to the point: this set is a disappointment.

The immediately apparent issue was the recorded sound. From the opening notes of the orchestral introduction of the first concerto, I was aghast : the orchestra is playing in a cave, or maybe a subway tunnel. Bass-heavy, bloated midrange, distant – and where are the violins? Sadly, things do not improve when Levitt’s piano joins the party, as the  sound of the instrument is muddled and, worse yet, so obviously mult-miced that rhythmic accents from the left hand seem to come from a completely different space, way off to the side, far from what the right hand is doing, which in turn seems to come from nowhere in particular.

Still, as a dutiful reviewer — and realizing that some readers may not be as bothered by the sound as I — I vowed to stick it out. As expected, Levitt’s playing has much to offer, with moments of great beauty and thoughtfulness. Theilemann and the orchestra chug along well enough, but, at least to my ear, without particular distinction; indeed, for whatever reason they don’t sound particularly engaged and the passion and drama that are inherent in the concerto are hard to find here. Throw in occasional odd, distracting tempo changes from Theilemann and some loss of cohesion between the soloist and orchestra to complete the picture.

All this is just in the first movement of the first concerto. The second movement seemed to me to drag on, even though it clocks in at a relatively quick 13:47. I admit that I was tired of this already, but the music simply was not drawing my attention. And so it went through both concertos.

What about the solo piano pieces, Op. 116 - 119? These are among my favorite works for piano, and Levit offers what I might call introspective readings (in a good sense). I heard imaginative treatments that gave new insights. But here again, the recorded sound gets in the way. For example, in the first intermezzo of Op. 117, notes from the right hand are plastered to the left channel, while the left-hand parts float around somewhere (and are at lower volume than they should be). This channel imbalance was so bad that I had to check the right speaker to make sure that it was functioning.

Of course, all this is in the context of fierce competition, as there are plenty of excellent alternatives for all of these works. (See our Recommended Recordings list for a few examples.) Levit’s playing tempts me to return (via streaming) to the solo pieces in spite of the audio, but sadly there is little else to recommend here.

Karl's Take:

I had looked forward eagerly to this release when I first heard about it, for Levit is a fascinating pianist; indeed, I have been quite favorably impressed by some of his previous recordings. Levit recordings that I have reviewed for Classical Candor include Fantasia (see review here), Encounter (see review here), On DSCH (here), and Tristan (here).  In addition, there was another two-CD release from Levit titled Life that I greatly enjoyed but did not review. It includes music by Busoni, Brahms, Schumann, Liszt, Wagner, and jazz legend Bill Evans. As you can gather from a perusal of my reviews and remarks, I thoroughly enjoyed Levit’s performances on these releases, all of which feature him on solo piano except for one track on Tristan which includes orchestral accompaniment

In physical format, this new release comprises three shiny silver discs, two are devoted to the concertos, the third to music for piano. Having been so impressed by Levit’s previous efforts, I looked forward eagerly to this release, although I must admit that although I am also a fan of the Vianna Philharmonic, I can’t say the same for conductor Christian Thielemann. In any event, to my ears at least, the two concerto discs were a disappointment. The performances just seemed to lack a certain flow – they at times seemed more measured than musical. On top of that, the sound quality came across as surprisingly unconvincing; not aggressively bright or awful, but just not the full, warm sound we would expect to hear from the Vienna Philharmonic. For comparison, I pulled out my old reference Freire/Chailly/Gewandhaus Decca recording, which sounded fresher and more natural in terms of both performance and sound.  On the other hand, the third CD from this new release, with Levit playing late Brahms (joined by Thielemann for a four-hands piece), measures up to the high standards of Levit’s previous solo piano releases.

George Szell Conducts Beethoven Symphonies and Overtures (Remastered)

by Bill Heck

Beethoven: Symphonies 1 – 9, Leonore Overture No 3, Op 72b, Egmont Overture, Op. 84, Coriolan Overture, Op. 62, Overture "King Stephen", Op. 117, Leonore Overture No. 2, Op. 72a, Leonore Overture No. 1, Op. 138, Fidelio, Op. 72: Overture. George Szell, Cleveland Orchestra. Sony Classical    

I am so thrilled with my holiday gift from Sony Classical: another re-release of the Szell/Cleveland Beethoven symphony cycle. 

Wait…whaaat? These recordings have been around in various forms and combinations since the 1960s. Yet another re-release – surely a snoozer for classical music lovers? Not quite: this release brings together in one set all nine remastered recordings, and that makes all the difference. 

Interestingly, the remastering are not brand new; they date to 2018. But, so far as I can find in perusing online music sources, back then they were released as one or two of the symphonies on single CDs on the Epic label, each with a different cover design to confuse buyers, but apparently not in a single collection. (That’s not counting the “George Szell - Complete Columbia Recordings”. That set fills a box that looks like a small suitcase.). Moreover, the various older editions are still available as new in the market, and you will search in vain on the CD labels for any obvious sign of when a particular release was issued. And don’t expect help from Sony: as I write this, using the Sony “artists” section to look for Beethoven symphonies shows only one item: a complete set from 2013!

But finally, we have cover art that says in big letters “The Remastered Stereo Recordings”. (It appears that there was at least one other remastering somewhere along the way, but let’s not get picky….) 

Now it’s worth noting that “remastering” can mean a lot of different things, and often enough it means something really minimal. In this case, though, it’s safe to say that the engineers were turned loose to do some serious work, presumably with the newest and greatest digital tools, and perhaps access to original or early generation master tapes, all doing their best best to bring the sound as close as possible to state of the art. They’ve succeeded. 

Let me use an example to illustrate. I started listening to the seventh symphony in an older version and the sound struck me as familiar from old LPs: a little shrill with wiry upper strings; less than stellar dynamics; slightly bass shy; and rather opaque in details and nuances. Listening was still interesting: the music was coming through and I could tell that this was a fine performance – but that was an intellectual reaction rather than an emotional one. Halfway through, I switched to this newest version, and everything came to life. In particular, I could more easily pick out different instrumental groups, really hearing the parts, while the dynamics just had a little more pop. Suddenly the music was more engaging: a big smile broke out and my attention was fully engaged. Subsequent back-and-forth comparisons with different works yielded similar results.  No, these new versions do not transform these 1960’s recordings to modern sonic spectaculars. But I feel as though I truly heard the music that Szell and the Cleveland forces gave us in the way that it was meant to be heard. 

What about the music itself? For those unfamiliar with the performances from earlier versions, Szell’s Cleveland Beethoven recordings have always been considered classic, touchstones for interpretation of Beethoven’s work. One criticism of Szell’s style has been that his vaunted precision with the Cleveland Orchestra was sometimes obtained at the expense of emotion or feeling. But hearing the difference between these remastered versions and older ones makes me wonder how much negative reaction has been significantly influenced by the sonics of the recordings, whether from the old analog LPs (which I know from experience were generally pretty bad) or digital releases. At least for me, the sonic improvements here do make them more appealing.

You can find boatloads of musical analysis and criticism regarding the music itself and these performances, so I’ll not bore you with further discussion. I’ll just suggest that, whether or not you have heard these performances before, you really need to hear them in these newest versions. 

Note: Available as a 7-CD set, download, or on streaming.