BH’s Favorite Recordings of 2023

by Bill Heck

I’ve managed to avoid doing a “favorite recordings” list for the past couple of years, but our persuasive editor, KN, convinced me that I should do so this time around. You know what? It turned out to be fun to look back through 2023 reviews on Classical Candor, not just my own but those of my colleagues, KN and RR, as well. (But JJP, when will we be treated to another review from you? It’s been too long!)

Before proceeding, though, I should clarify how my “favorites” made the list. These are not to be considered somehow “the best” of the year; instead, they are simply a few recordings that I found both interesting and well done, ones that I found myself returning to long after their reviews appeared in Classical Candor. Nor does the ordering of the list reflect some sort of “quality” ranking; it’s simply in chronological order by review date.

Albeniz: Iberia. Nelson Goerner. Alpha Classics 829.  Iberia is one of those works in which one can be lost, moving through a kaleidoscopic world of themes and emotions. Goerner is by turns playful and serious, light and dark, swift and slow, somber and feverish, reflecting the music’s moods in a performance that rewards repeated hearings. Alpha’s outstanding sound compliments and completes the picture. By the way, technically this recording is a 2022 release, but I didn’t get around to publishing a review until January of this year, so it makes the list anyway.

 

 

Arnold: Concerto No. 1 for Clarinet and Strings Op. 20; etc. Chandos CHAN 20152. This disk of multiple works by Malcolm Arnold (I named only the Clarinet Concerto in the headline above) was reviewed by our colleague, Ryan Ross, but I’m including it here because it meets the criteria of interest and excellence. Frankly, I was only vaguely familiar with the music of Malcolm Arnold; this disk was an excellent introduction to a composer that I need to, and am getting to, know better. If you, too, are unfamiliar with Arnold’s work, read Ryan’s review of this disk here and go find a copy.

Beethoven: A Beethoven Odyssey: Volume 7 (Piano Sonatas Nos. 30, 31, and 32). James Brawn, piano. MSR Classics MS 1471. I reviewed both volumes 7 and 8 of Brawn’s A Beethoven Odyssey series this year, but I should call your attention to the entire series; volume 1 – 8 are currently available and the release of the final volume, number 9, is coming up in 2024. Our colleague John Puccio reviewed several of the earlier volumes in the series, and he and I are of one mind in finding Brawn’s playing consistently so “right”, so “of course that’s the way it should be”. That the MSR engineers capture the sound of the Steinway so well is the proverbial icing on the cake.

 

Brahms: Double Concerto, Op 192; Viotti: Violin Concerto No. 22; Dvorak: Silent Woods, Op.68/5. Christian Tetzlaff (violin), Tanja Tetzlaff (cello), Paavo Järvi/Symphonie-Orchester Berlin. Ondine ODE 1423-2. An extraordinarily touching memorial to a lost friend, the late pianist Lars Vogt. But don’t let the “in memoriam” aspect lower your expectations: the performance of the Brahms Double Concerto is a fine one, passionate but technically sound, while the Viotti Concerto is, if not music of the first rank, well worth hearing. And if the short Dvorak piece from Silent Woods doesn’t provoke a lump in your throat, you may need an emotion transplant.

 

Hyperion catalog on streaming services. No, this is not an individual recording. But for those of us who rely heavily on streaming, the availability of the Hyperion catalog on major streaming services is a cause for celebration. Note that Hyperion started releasing their existing catalog for streaming in batches starting in September; if your favorite title is not yet available, it will be soon. 2023 was a good year!

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There we are. I didn’t set out to confine myself to composers whose names started with one of the first two letters of the alphabet, so I’ll try for more variety in 2024. Meanwhile, I hope that your listening is full of highlights every day.

Arnold: Clarinet Concerto No. 1 and Other Works (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

 

Arnold: Commonwealth Christmas Overture Op. 64; Concerto No. 1 for Clarinet and Strings Op. 20; Divertimento No. 2 for Orchestra Op. 24/Op. 75; Larch Trees, Tone Poem for Orchestra Op. 3; Philharmonic Concerto for Orchestra Op. 120; The Padstow Lifeboat Op. 94A (March for Brass Band Arranged 2001 for Orchestra by Philip Lane). Michael Collins, clarinet; BBC Philharmonic; Yuri Torchinsky and Zoë Beyers, leaders; Rumon Gamba, conductor. Chandos CHAN 20152

 

As its fine liner notes by Mervyn Cooke state, this disc presents a “well-chosen selection of miscellaneous works” from across Malcolm Arnold’s orchestral output. The claim that these can be “just as revealing” as the better-known symphonies seems debatable, but the music recorded here certainly does offer much interest and appeal, every bit exhibiting the composer’s unmistakable stamp of character. These uniformly lively performances of them bespeak a spirited advocacy. On the whole I found this disc to be another successful example of Chandos’s ongoing and most welcome commitment to Arnold’s oeuvre. 

 

For those not familiar with the state of Arnold’s reception among critics and historians: the merits of his music, not to mention his historical place, are still contested. Advocates like me emphasize his melodic gift, stellar orchestration, blurred genre lines, and the sense of excitement he creates in relying upon these factors plus repetition, contrast, and variation to craft his forms. Detractors wedded to German (and especially Beethovenian) notions of ‘proper’ structure have found his music deficient. If you’re inclined to the latter camp, probably nothing I say here will win you over. But if you’re open to enjoying Arnold’s music on its own terms, I predict that this disc will please, if not delight. 

 

The recording begins and ends with its two most accessible works: the Commonwealth Christmas Overture and The Padstow Lifeboat march. It is a pity that the overture could not be included on Chandos’s previous disc of Arnold overtures (CHAN 10293), featuring the same orchestra and conductor. But as that disc runs to 75:43, the omission was probably unavoidable. In any case, the present overture (commissioned by the BBC to mark the 25th anniversary of King George V’s 1932 Christmas broadcast) shows Arnold’s priority of reaching mass audiences. He explicitly stated that its purpose was to fit into an atmosphere of families listening after dinner while their children play. Such knowledge could soften the impression of the work’s initial themes’ repetitions perhaps just starting to wear out their welcome by the end, despite being leavened by the jaunty Caribbean middle section. This issue is not a factor in the well-proportioned Padstow Lifeboat march, here effectively orchestrated by Philip Lane from the original band score. As an entry point to Arnold’s music, it’s as good a piece as any: tuneful, humorous (with the repeated foghorn effect), and just the right length.

 

To my sensibility, the best renderings on the disc are of three works, at least two of which are likely to be less familiar: the Clarinet Concerto No. 1, the Divertimento No. 2 for Orchestra, and the Philharmonic Concerto for Orchestra. While not as famous as its successor (much owing to that work’s “Pre-Goodman Rag” finale), the youthful clarinet concerto recorded here is engaging and already displays Arnold’s hallmark of building first-movement structures around an appealing, interspersed tune. The performers take things relatively quickly on the whole, which I think works in the music’s favor. The technically-sharp, articulative Michael Collins simply beats the available competition as soloist. He’s my new favorite interpreter. 

 

The Divertimento No. 2 of 1950 had a checkered history after its initial performance and was later revised. This is a vivid little creation that fully displays Arnold’s genius as an orchestrator. Not surprisingly, it was first composed for a youth orchestra; the themes and their recastings give off a feeling of childlike fantasy, which Gamba and the BBC Philharmonic duly bring off. The autumnal Philharmonic Concerto has a darker aesthetic, even though it shares with the lighter-hued Divertimento a chaconne-form finale. There is depth of feeling here, especially in the slow movement – one of Arnold’s best. And again, the performance is top-notch; easily the equal of its alternatives. 

 

This leaves the fascinating and underrated tone poem Larch Trees, the auspicious product of a 22-year-old composer already known as a brilliant trumpet player. For once, I do not think Gamba’s brisk approach is entirely conducive. Here is a work of delicious atmosphere, an homage to Sibelius (among a few others) in which Arnold proves himself quite capable of creating his own sonic world of natural mystery. Inferior though it may be in other respects, Mark Stephenson’s interpretation with the London Musici on the Conifer label (CDCF 211) runs nearly three minutes longer, allowing the listener to better savor music that shouldn’t be rushed. 

 

On balance, though, this is a wonderful disc, with even a quicker-than-I’d-like account of Larch Trees contributing to an overall success. The sound is clear and vibrant. The repertoire and performances invite re-listening. While we wait (let’s hope not in vain) for some of these works (especially Larch Trees, the Divertimento, and the Philharmonic Concerto) to be heard live in concert with the frequency they deserve, there is much to be thankful for here. 

Recent Releases, No. 22 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Arnold: Complete Symphonies and Dances. (CD1) Symphonies Nos. 1 & 2; (CD2) Symphonies Nos. 3 & 4; (CD3) Symphonies Nos. 5 & 6; (CD4) Symphonies 7 & 8; (CD5) Symphony No. 9; Sir Malcolm Arnold in Conversation with Andrew Penny; (CD6) English Dances, Set 1; English Dances, Set 2; Four Scottish Dances, Op. 59; Four Scottish Dances, Op. 91; Four Irish Dances; Four Welsh Dances. Andrew Penny, National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland (Symphonies), Queensland Symphony Orchestra (Dances). Naxos 8.506041.

October 21, 2021, marked the 100th birthday of the late British composer Sir Malcolm Arnold, one of the greatest yet most overlooked composers of the 20th century. Even in the UK, his music is seldom performed in concert, which is a shame. I was going to say that I first became acquainted with his music thanks to a recommendation by the late Harry Pearson of The Absolute Sound, who wrote with enthusiasm of an EMI LP featuring Arnold conducting the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in Arnold’s Symphony No. 5 and Peterloo Overture, the first LP I ever ordered from England. But that was not, as I now recall, my first exposure to the music of Arnold; instead, my first exposure had actually come many years before, when my father took me to see the film The Bridge on the River Kwai, for which Arnold had composed the memorable score. (The film featured a young Alec Guinness, who many years later I would take my own kids to see play the role of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and would some years after that delight me with his portrayal of George Smiley.) Thanks to Naxos, though, who have decided to mark the occasion of this centennial year with a budget-priced boxed set of his complete symphonies and dances, music lovers now have the chance to immerse themselves in the symphonic music of this most remarkable composer for a most reasonable price.

Arnold had played trumpet in the London Symphony Orchestra; he knew orchestras and loved writing music for them. His symphonies contain melodies and tunes that musicians enjoy playing and listeners enjoy hearing. But no, his music is not simple. It is varied and complex, shifting from mood to mood, sometimes turning on a dime, but never leaving the listener behind. It can go from a tickle to a tear within a matter of measures. But it is always listenable, always colorful, ever imaginative. In a nutshell, the first couple of symphonies are on the bold and brash side, yet not without their moments of reflection. Nos. 3 and 4 are a bit more exotic sounding, especially No. 4., which makes lively use of percussion in places.

Symphony No. 5, the work that Harry Pearson raved about, is often considered Arnold’s masterwork; indeed, it is a symphony that cannot help but make an indelible impression. Its sound is rich and varied, with memorable contributions especially from the brass section, with some trombone parts that will haunt your memory. It is the quintessential Arnold symphony, packed with gorgeous melodies but still managing to be tense, restless, and disturbing under the surface. It is a great work, one that deserves a place in the concert hall. Its discmate, No. 6., is a shorter work (24:41) in three movements, said to be inspired by jazz but communicating a more serious, focused tone than his previous symphonies.

Nos. 7 and 8 are even more serious in tone, but still display that same Arnold sound, that ability to weave phrases and melodies that linger in the memory and tug at the heartstrings of the listeners without ever sounding cloying or sentimental, punctuated with bursts of energy, especially from the bass drum. The opening measures of No. 8 will definitely give both your speakers and your emotions a workout! But then the second movement Andantino will ply on your emotions in a quieter but no less powerful way, setting the stage for the final movement, and energetic romp that by now you will recognize sounds like pure Malcolm Arnold as it shifts gears and moves merrily along. Then we come to Symphony No. 9, Arnold’s most enigmatic symphony. The April 2021 issue of BBC Music Magazine featured an article on Arnold, and displayed his portrait on the cover, alongside which was a teaser that read, “Malcolm Arnold: Was the talented but troubled composer England’s Shostakovich?” That’s the kind of thing you expect to see while standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, and a bit of baloney overall, but listening to the 9th does admittedly invite the comparison to the great Russian composer. Its structure is unusual and yes, Shostakovich-like: three relatively short movements followed by a long (23:10) Lento finale that is serious and brooding. But still, as much as it might remind one of Shostakovich, it remains clearly a work by Arnold. A welcome bonus is the appended interview, in which conductor and composer discuss the work. Much different in mood and most rousingly Arnold-like are the sets of Dances gather together on the final disc in this set. These works are an unabashed delight, tuneful and tasty. It was certainly generous of Naxos to include them here along with the symphonies.

Please rest assured that although this is a budget release, the playing and the engineering are all first-rate. The booklet included in the box gives some background on the symphonies and is prefaced with a reflection about the music and the composer by conductor Andrew Penny. I will confess to being a huge fan of Arnold’s music; I have previously purchased recordings of all of his symphonies (and numerous other works) by several orchestras on several labels, including the individual Naxos discs as they were released during the 1990s. To have this set together in one box, along with the complete Dances (the first time all of his Dances have been recorded together), so well done and at a reasonably low price, makes this set a must-have. Arnold’s music is a musical universe begging to be explored by those who have not yet entered it, and now Naxos has provided the portal key. Enter and enjoy!

Of All Joys. Arvo Pärt (b. 1935): Summa; Luca Marenzio (c. 1535-1599): Solo e pensoso; John Dowland (1565-1626): Flow My Tears (Lachrimae); Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625) Fantasia a 6 in d minor; Philip Glass (b. 1937): String Quartet No. 3 “Mishima”; John Bennet (c. 1575 - c. 1615): Weep, O Mine Eyes; Jacobus Clemens non Papa (c.1510 - c. 1555): Ego Flos Campi a 7; Pärt: Fratres. Attacca Quartet (Amy Schroeder and Domenic Salerni, violins; Nathan Schram, viola; Andrew Yee, cello). Sony Classical 19439936062.

The Attacca Quartet have assembled a musical program of works from the 16th and 20th centuries that flows seamlessly from one musical delight into another, truly testifying to the listener of all joys indeed: the joys of life, the universe, and everything. The disc begins and ends with string quartet arrangements of familiar works by the beloved Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, Summa and Fratres. As with much of Pärt’s music, both pieces have a spiritual dimension to them. That feeling of calm and inwardness carries throughout the program, which is not always quiet and soporific, but in general has a feeling of grace about it. It is revealing to hear how naturally the music of Philip Glass blends so seamlessly into the program. Yes, listeners familiar with his compositional style will recognize that pulsing undercurrent, but they will also come to hear that over 500 years, music still remains music, the tones and the rhythms and the attendant emotions are still there, still flowing, still touching our hearts and minds. The Attacca Quartet’s violinist Domenic Salerni remarks of Glass’s music that “using an extreme economy of means, he creates moments and momentums out of simple whole-number harmonic ansd rhythmic ratios that can leave one feeling resigned and despairing, uplifted and filled with joy, or simply at peace and transported to a place of beauty.” The liner notes go on to assert that “this album seeks to replicate such emotional breadth. And while the textures and harmonies of Glass were a natural and obvious fit, the record is a project that began with the quartet listing off their favorite minimalist and Renaissance pieces, and considering how modern works resonate with what came before.” The end result is an album that should resonate with listeners seeking to engage with the beauty that can be found in simple music with surprising depth.    

Vince Mendoza: Freedom Over Everything. Concerto for Orchestra: American Noise; Concerto For Orchestra: Consolation; Concerto For Orchestra: Hit The Streets; Concerto For Orchestra: Meditation; Concerto for Orchestra: Justice And The Blues; Freedom Over Everything; Concerto For Orchestra: Finale; To The Edge Of Longing; New York Stories (Concertino for Trumpet and Orchestra). Antonio Sanchez, drums; Joshua Redman, tenor saxophone; Derrick Hodge, bass; Jan Hasenohrl, trumpet; Tariq Trotter (a.k.a. Black Thought), vocals; Julia Bullock, vocals; Alexej Rosik, violin; Vince Mendoza, Czech National Symphony Orchestra. Modern Recordings 538668092.

This recent release from the Grammy award-winning American composer, arranger, and conductor Vince Mendoza (b. 1961) features music that hovers in a space that is not quite classical, not quite jazz, not quite film music, not quite protest music, but which blends elements of all those genres and more into a program of energetic and entertaining orchestral music mingled with other styles and voices. The featured work is his Concerto for Orchestra, about which he explains, “My approach is a departure from the traditions of an orchestra concerto. For me, it was more about having an arc that tells a particular story, but also incorporates rhythmic and melodic aspects of African American music and improvisation… Coinciding with the composition of the concerto was the 2016 saga of the election of ‘45’ and the resulting tremendous discord in the U.S. during that time. While writing this piece, the events happening in our country invaded my artistic space. For the first time I felt I couldn’t really write music and be removed from what was going on in our environment.  I started seriously considering the importance of an artist to reflect the times and how I could make my music a reflection not only of what I was witnessing but what I hoped would occur. So that’s when the arc of this concerto started to take shape. I sought to design the structure of the concerto to be inspired by M.L. King’s remarks on the moral universe, that the arc is long, but it bends toward justice. The beginning of the concerto (the first movement is called ‘American Noise’) reflects the discord that began leading up to the 2016 election. Of course, it pales in comparison to what we dealt with in 2020 and now 2021, but the arc of the composition goes through that process of pure noise, much needed consolation and the need for ‘hitting the streets’. The end of the concerto seeks to reflect justice and the hope for a peaceful resolution to what we were only entering in 2016. Arguably in 2021 we still haven’t quite gotten there.”

The Concerto is in six relatively short movements, the longest being the opening American Noise at 9:47, all the way down to the Finale at only 2:17. Between the fifth movement (Justice and the Blues) and Finale, there is a brief (1:27) interlude (Freedom over Everything) featuring rapper Black Thought. Drummer Antonio Sanchez, who has played with guitarist Pat Metheny and other jazz notables as well as leading ensembles of his own, adds a complex texture to the music as he comes in to join the orchestra along with electric guitar and later, the saxophone of veteran reedman Joshua Redman. The music has plenty of drive and energy, even in its less boisterous moments, with a kinetic feeling of motion to that suggests it would serve well as the score for a modern dance presentation.

Following the turmoil of his Concerto, Mendoza then presents music meant to calm, a setting of verse from the German poet Rilke titled To the Edge of Longing, featuring the rich soprano voice of Julia Bullock accompanied by the solo violin of Alexej Rosik and the orchestra. It truly is a beautiful work, flowing and melodic. The program concludes with New York Stories, a brief concertino for trumpet and orchestra that finds Mendoza returning to the jazz-tinged sound of the Concerto. The drums return, and on the whole, there is something of a film score vibe to this music, especially the sound of the orchestral strings. The end result is pleasant, but at least to these ears, not as striking as the other two works on the program. As far as the engineering goes, frequency balance and imaging are fine; however, be forewarned that this CD is mastered at a level that is clearly several dB higher than the norm for classical recordings, so you will want to back off a few notches on your volume control when auditioning it for the first time. You can always turn it up later, and well you might want to for such exuberant music, but better safe than sorry at the start…

Bach: The Art of Fugue. Les InAttendus (Vincent Lhermet, accordion; Marianne Muller, 7-string bass viol; Alice Piérot, violin). Harmonia Mundi HMM 905313.

Although modern scholarly consensus is that Bach’s The Art of Fugue was originally intended by the composer to be played at the keyboard, as with many other of Bach’s compositions, there have been many other transcriptions and arrangements performed and recorded over the years. Although my favorite is the organ and piano version by Glenn Gould, I have also enjoyed a string quartet version by the Emerson String Quartet, and have at times enjoyed and at other times loathed that infamous Bach/Malloch Sheffield production titled The Art of Fuguing. This new release for the unusual combination of violin, accordion, and bass viol gives the music a baroque sonority, yet because of the unfamiliar element of the accordion blending with the strings, there is a freshness to the sound that makes it piece seem new again. No, this is not a CD for everyone, but for devoted fans of J.S. Bach, it is well worth an audition.

Bonus Recommendation:

How Shostakovich Changed My Mind. Johnson, Stephen. Notting Hill Editions Ltd (2018).

Especially for – but certainly not only for – fans of the music of the great Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich, this brief book of just over 150 pages offers some fascinating insights into his music. It does so not by presenting dry academic musicological analyses, but rather by offering penetrating personal insights into not only the composer and his music, but also into the effects his music can have upon those who listen with real purpose. As the note on the back cover explains, “music broadcaster and composer Stephen Johnson explores how Shostakovich’s music took shape under Stalin’s reign of terror, and how it gave form to the fears and hopes of an oppressed people. Johnson writes of the healing effect of music on sufferers of mental illness and tells of how Shostakovich’s music lent him unexpected strength in his struggle with bipolar disorder. Through interviews conducted with surviving members of Soviet orchestras, through his reading of philosophers, psychoanalysts, and neurologists, Johnson paints a compelling picture of one man’s music and its power to validate and sustain another man’s life.”

Now, that talk of philosophers and neurologists and psychoanalysts might make it sound as if this book might be a dense, heavy read, quite the opposite is true. Instead, Johnson is a skilled storyteller, and he weaves together a number of different threads – his own story, accounts of his interviews, his accounts of some of Shostakovichs’s compositions (including the Cello Concerto No. 1, String Quartet No. 8, Symphonies Nos. 4, 8, and 11) and how they affected his mental health and overall well-being – into a compelling story that is not just about Shostakovich, or music, but about the human condition and the challenges we all face as we make our way through life. Especially fascinating – offering insights both musical and psychological – are some interviews and analyses that reveal some of the hidden messages that Shostakovich wrote into his music, his way of taunting his tormentors without exposing himself openly to further persecution. This is a little volume that can easily be read in a day or two, but with a message that will resonate in readers’ hearts and minds for far longer.

KWN

Arnold: Symphonies Nos. 3 & 4 (CD review)

Andrew Penny, National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland. Naxos 8.553739.

English composer Sir Malcolm Arnold (1921-2016) continued to write symphonic music until 1990, when he abruptly stopped, saying he "had done enough." All the while a stubborn Romanticist, Arnold wrote music that steadfastly employed melodies and rhythm at a time when Modernists had shut the door on such anachronisms. Coincidentally, I had written about this same coupling of Arnold's Third and Fourth Symphonies about a year earlier, that time under Vernon Handley on the Conifer label. Now the two symphonies return on a lower-priced Naxos disc that is even more inviting.

The Third Symphony (finished in 1957), divided into three movements, is the least consequential of the two works on the disc. It is pleasant enough, don't get me wrong, but not particularly memorable.

Andrew Penny

The Fourth Symphony (1960), however, will remain in memory, especially for its opening movement, with its overlays of South and Central American percussion tunes. The Vivace ma non troppo that follows also uses a jazzy tune, but slightly more formally structured. The Andantino is the calm before the storm, the end of the finale bursting forth in a most provocative and, as the composer said, "completely crazy" manner.

On a side note, the composer later wrote that the Fourth Symphony was his response to the  1958 Notting Hill race riots. He was, he said, shocked that such a thing could happen in England, and he hoped that his symphony might help to diffuse the problems of racial divide.

The Naxos sound is clear and well defined, easily rivaling the more expensive Conifer disc. Maestro Penny recorded the Third and Fourth Symphonies in June 1996, with the composer in attendance. One could hardly ask for more authoritative readings. In fact, they are among the best Naxos recordings I've heard, so one can hardly go wrong with them.

The sense and value of purchasing low-to-middle priced Naxos releases should be self evident, at least in principle. However, I would add that not all Naxos recordings sound as good as this one, because on the same day I listened to the Arnold disc I also happened to listen to a recording of the Mozart Horn Concertos (Naxos 8.553592) that I found stodgy in performance and dark and murky in sound. Listening before you buy is still the best way to acquire what you are most likely to want to live with; trusted reviews and the recommendations of friends are obviously other good practices. Buying indiscriminately, though, even in so fine a label as Naxos, may cause too many, if occasional, disappointments.

No letdown in these Arnold symphonies, though. I applaud them strongly.

JJP

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

Rule Britannia: Last Night of the Proms (CD review)

Paul Daniel, English Northern Philharmonia and Leeds Festival Chorus. Naxos 8.553981.

The Naxos disclaimer reads, "This is a recording of music performed frequently at the Last Night of the Proms, but not of the event itself." Just so you don't think you're getting an actual live Royal Albert Hall performance as traditionally recorded by other labels.

Nevertheless, the music is thoroughly English in spirit, and the disc represents a good value in popular chauvinistic English music. The program starts with Walton's "Crown Imperial," then goes on to what is practically England's second national anthem, "Jerusalem." It continues with the centerpiece of the collection, Sir Henry Wood's "Fantasia on British Sea Songs"; and it concludes with Elgar's "Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1."

Paul Daniel

In between these works are other pieces by Elgar, Arnold, Parry, and Walton. Maestro Paul Daniel, the English Northern Philharmonia, and the Leeds Festival Chorus play the music with great enthusiasm, if not in so grand a manner as those recordings by Sir Adrian Boult or Sir John Barbirolli. But the music is so stirring and patriotic, it practically makes even a non-British citizen want to stand up and cheer.

The sound Naxos provides is very wide ranging, with good transient impact and a decent depth of field. It is a little thick around the middle, though; not so transparent as the aforementioned Boult or Barbirolli performances on older EMI recordings. The bass is deep enough but not particularly well defined. Ensemble performance and overall tone are not so resplendent as the Philharmonia or London Philharmonic, either, but for the cost of the disc it is quite a reasonable compromise. For the Henry Wood medley itself the disc is worth the price.

JJP

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

Arnold: Symphonies Nos. 7 and 8 (CD review)

Andrew Penny, National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland. Naxos 8.552001.

Twentieth-century English composer Sir Malcolm Arnold (1921-2006) wrote a multitude of film scores (The Captain's Paradise, Hobson's Choice, Trapeze, Island in the Sun, The Bridge on the River Kwai, etc.), and as a result people often think of him only as a composer of light music. But his nine symphonies and many overtures and marches show us a musician who could move from the serene to the rollicking and from the sublime to the ridiculous in grand fashion. Arnold was a kind of throwback to another era, a Romanticist in the Modern Age, a man whose music could be serious but never self-righteous. That said, the two symphonies recorded here represent Arnold's more earnest and more darkly creative side.

The Seventh Symphony (1973) opens with a long, colorful, somewhat rambunctious, and vaguely ominous movement that makes us wonder where its sudden jazz infusion comes from. It turns out it's a leftover from Arnold's Sixth Symphony, just one of many connections his admirers make in showing the coherence of the man's complete symphony cycle. The second movement comes out of left field with a beautifully evocative mood, followed by an odd, cantankerous finale. The fact that most of it holds together so well is a tribute to the composer's musical imagination and skill.

Andrew Penny

The much shorter Eighth Symphony (1978), about twenty-five minutes, is probably more characteristic of the man. It's sprightlier and more optimistic, although it, too, finds room for odd, sometimes discordant tones. Listeners have enjoyed its Irish march as well (which originated in one of the film scores Arnold wrote), the music itself probably a result of Arnold's having lived in Ireland for a while.

Maestro Andrew Penny and the National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland perform both works in precise terms, leaning heavily to clarification rather than overt dramatics. It's probably the best way to perform the music, leaving the histrionics to the scores themselves without unduly emphasizing them. The results are as felicitous as one could desire.

The Naxos engineers provide a clear, true sound for the 2001 recording. The clarity does come at the expense of a small degree of brightness, however, that some playback systems may tend to exacerbate. The recording also provides a good separation of instruments, but one could also interpret this as a degree of compartmentalization. In any case, I enjoyed the disc's sonic character, especially its lucidity, because it seems to me that Arnold's music benefits from an extra bit of illumination.

In all, we get a pleasant and in some ways stimulating musical coupling, framed in clean, modern digital sound, and costing a relative pittance. Interesting stuff.

JJP

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

Arnold: Symphonies Nos. 3, 4, & 9 (CD review)

Also, Concertino for Oboe & Strings; Fantasy for Oboe Solo. Nicholas Daniel, oboe; Vernon Handley, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. Conifer 75605 51258 2 and 75605 51273 2 (two separate albums).

Who says they don't write 'em the way they used to? British composer Sir Malcolm Arnold (1921-2006) may have been the twentieth century's last true musical Romanticist. Certainly his prodigious work for film, stage, and concert hall helped him keep attune to popular taste. Although I believe it is still his Fifth Symphony for which people may best remember him (film scores like Bridge on the River Kwai aside), some of the others of his nine symphonies are worth consideration as well. This is especially true as time passes, and we notice how little of lasting importance anyone else has contributed over the past fifty years. Vernon Handley's Conifer recordings of Arnold's symphonies should go far in bringing the composer's music to an even wider audience.

Here, we consider two separate albums: The first of the recordings includes the Third Symphony (1957) and is, frankly, the least important of the three symphonies under review, yet in its own way it is the most accessible. It does nothing extraordinary, save perhaps in its use of an unusual three-movement format. It is mostly pastoral, lightweight, and upbeat. It makes for pleasant, relaxed, largely unchallenging listening.

The Fourth Symphony (1960), on the other hand, is full of contrasts. It begins with an Allegro using a good deal of Central and South American percussion to play what is essentially a calypso-type jazz tune. Was Arnold's film music background showing? The fast movement that follows also uses a Caribbean percussion section, although to more symphonic effect. The slow Andantino returns us to a feeling of calm, but then the finale pitches us headlong into something I can only describe as sheer anger! Toward the end, a march bursts forth, winding down only in the last minutes. It's quite a ride, and Arnold may have written it to say something about his attitudes toward race relations. The two symphonies together on one disc provide a good overview of the composer's many talents and tempers.

On the second album we have the Ninth Symphony (1992), which Sir Malcolm said was to be his last composition. Whether it was age or superstition that led him to such a pronouncement is unclear. Beethoven, Schubert, Bruckner, and Mahler all ended their symphonic creations on number nine. Be that as it may, Arnold's Ninth seems an appropriate conclusion to his symphonic output. It is essentially tragic in its outlook, with only a closing moment in the long, slow, Mahler-like finale to bring us around to anything like sweetness or light. Accompanied by several charming oboe works, this disc, too, provides a good, all-around glimpse of the composer's many moods.

Conifer's sound in both discs is understandably alike, their having been recorded only a couple of months apart in the spring and summer of 1996, although in different venues. The sonics are clear and natural, warm and winning, without being as transparent or dynamic as they could be. Imaging, particularly front to back, is good; deep bass is present but not prominent; highs are airy but not pronounced. It is audio that serves the music; it will go unnoticed by most listeners, unlike some audiophile sound that can unintentionally draw notice to itself. Arnold devotees will want both discs, if they don't already have them. New listeners, though, might want to start with Nos. Three and Four.

JJP

Arnold: Ballet Music (CD review)

Suite from "Homage to the Queen"; Rinaldo and Armida; Concert Suite from "Sweeney Todd"; Electra.  Rumon Gamba, BBC Philharmonic.  Chandos CHAN 10550.

Although many of us think of Sir Malcolm Arnold (1921-2006) as a composer of orchestral music--symphonies, concertos, overtures, and the like--this album reminds us that he composed a few ballets as well.  It's mostly brief stuff we get here, and perhaps it doesn't amount to much, but it's good to have it collected together in chronological order and performed so well.

The first piece in the set is a twenty-minute suite from Homage to the Queen, Arnold's first ballet, composed in 1953 for the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II.  It begins in a typically bombastic Arnold manner, but it's followed by some delightful short movements that are light, airy, and lithe, as well as more typically flamboyant Arnold, concluding on a wholly regal tone.

Rinaldo and Armida is a dance-drama in one act from 1955.  The composer based the ballet on a sixteenth-century poem about a deadly enchantress meeting her doom.  Thus, it's spooky, melancholy, and histrionically dramatic by turns and is probably the best work in the set in terms of pure musicality.

Next, we get Arnold's 1959 score to the famous story of Sweeney Todd, the barber who kills his clients and chops them up into meat pies.  Like Sondheim's later music, Arnold's music contrasts the purely comical with the grotesque.  On this disc, we get a concert suite arranged by David Ellis in 1984 in consultation with the composer.  The tunes are varied and in some sections more than a touch weird, but they are always witty and entertaining.  In terms of pure enjoyment, Sweeney Todd is the most mainstream of the lot.

The disc concludes with Electra, 1963, in a première recording.  It's another short ballet in one act, about fifteen minutes.  Based loosely on the play by Sophocles, this is the darkest piece in the album and probably the least accessible, although the extensive percussion should keep most listeners awake.

Matching the ballet form, Ruman Gamba and the BBC Philharmonic are lyrical and sweet when necessary, light on their feet, yet seriously thrusting and forceful when the occasions demand.  Gamba keeps the music flowing at a theatrical pace, and the Chandos audio engineers do their magic with sound that is warmly atmospheric, yet clean and reasonably transparent.  The recording could have used a bit more deep bass, but, otherwise, it offers good orchestral depth and breadth, with some sounds extending well beyond the boundaries of the speakers.

JJP