Korngold & Barber Violin Concertos (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Korngold: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 35; Barber: Violin Concerto, Op. 14. Paul Huang, violinist; Jun Märkl, conductor; London Philharmonic Orchestra. Naïve V8121

On a whim I typed into Google Gemini, “The Barber and Korngold Violin Concertos are sentimental.” The surprisingly lengthy response I got was something along the lines of, “that’s a fair criticism, but these works are actually very soundly constructed.” Say what you want about the perils of AI (and I would probably agree), but sometimes our electronic assistants soberly reflect real tendencies of human beings. In this case, Gemini reasonably assumed I was being negative, because that’s how the term frequently gets used nowadays. When I replied that I meant “sentimental” as a compliment, and was praising these works’ fervent emotional expression, it confirmed that this indeed was long the primary definition, eclipsed since the early 20th century by pejorative connotations. If you dig even a little into these concertos’ reception histories, you will soon find more than enough to justify Gemini’s defensive pose. Or just observe how often reviewers praise a performance of Romantic repertoire because it ‘avoids dipping into sentimentality.’

 

Who do such critics think they’re trying to reassure? Surely not the performers and audiences who have long treasured these concertos, even as the music was being panned for flouting modernist sensibilities they scarcely shared. In other words, I think your average listener enjoys them precisely because they are so heartfelt and melodically memorable…and yes, because they remind them of the film scores some critics also like to trash. So, by this measure, performances that embody sentimentality may just strike a chord with a wide swath of people. Thus reoriented, I can tell you that Paul Huang’s interpretations here with Jun Märkl and the LPO actually do avoid much of this sentimentality, but maybe that’s not what the music really needs.

 

If Huang’s intention was to establish a distinctive sound, he succeeds. Especially in the Korngold. The soloists in what I would consider to be its benchmark performances (Shaham, Heifetz, and Perlman, in that order) each adopt fuller, more lush tones that capture a certain Hollywood wistfulness. By contrast, Huang’s rendition gleams with sharper edges. I wouldn’t say that he ducks the lyrical themes and climactic points, exactly, but they do come across differently in his hands. Compare, for instance, his middle movement with Heifetz’s on RCA (LM 1782). Huang is bright and clear, while Heifetz silkily weaves a web of nostalgia or some other dreamlike state. The one elicits respect, the other, love. Huang’s finale similarly undersells the music’s inherent warmth by accentuating some percussive aspects on top of his preference for cooler precision. I kept thinking how adroit he would be in Bartók. He should make those concertos a future project.

 

Huang’s Barber Concerto carries some of these same tendencies but lies closer to the mean. The melodic lines, particularly in the first movement, are nice and expansive. But we’re still missing a last 10% expressively. The climactic tutti is a good example, and here for the first time I’ll implicate Märkl, who holds back the orchestra just a bit. Poise and clarity are everywhere to be found both here and in the following section. Torrid virtuosity brings the performance to a satisfying close. There is a certain radiance overall. But while I can hear everything uncommonly well, I don’t always feel everything as much as I want to. Those critics so worried about dipping into sentimentality (both in these concertos and elsewhere) should be at least as worried about dipping into sterility. Somehow, they hardly ever are.

 

Nonetheless, I do actually recommend this recording. While it isn’t my preferred take on these beloved works, it is an incisive one that provides a credible foil to what we’re used to. It is smart and certainly effective after its fashion; I admire that in this case. So, if you have room in your collection for multiple Korngold and Barber Concerto releases, by all means go ahead, scoop this up, and listen to it occasionally. But if you’re in the market for one trusty take and no more, it's still gotta be Shaham's pairing on DG (439 886-2).

Karl Nehring's Favorites of 2025

 Art Choral Vol. 6: Moderne. Ola Gjeilo (b. 1978): Unicornis Captivatur; Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Lux AEterna (excerpt from Nimrod from Enigma Variations, arrangement by John Cameron); Ambroz Čopi (b. 1973): II. Regina caeli (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Morten Lauridsen (b. 1943): O magnum mysterium; Čopi: IV. Ave, Regina caelorum (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Samuel Barber (1910-1981): Agnus Dei (Adagio for Strings, Op. 11, transcription for mixed choir); Jake Runestad (b.1986): Nyon Nyon; Uģis Prauliņš (b. 1957): Missa Regensis: I. Kyrie eleison; Andrew Balfour (b. 1967): Praeter rerum seriem; Aaron Copland (1900-1990): Help Us, O Lord (excerpt from Four Motets) Pablo Casals(1876-1973): O vos omnes (Antífona del Nocturno 3º de Sábado Santo). Ensemble ArtChoral (Janelle Lucyk, Marie Magistry, Magali Simard-Galdès, sopranos; Ghislaine Deschambault, Claudine Ledoux, Rachèle Tremblay, altos; Kerry Bursey, Bernard Cayouette, Arthur Tanguay-Labrosse, tenors; Alasdair Campbell, William Kraushaar, Guillaume St-Cyr, basses); Matthias Maute, director. ATMA Classique ACD2 2425 

This release focuses on music from a specific musical era: the Modern Era. The program is a mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar, with old standbys such as the choral arrangements of the Barber Adagio and the Elgar Nimrod mixed in with less familiar works by composers whose names might be familiar (such as Copland and Casals) or perhaps lass familiar (such as Čopi or Prauliņš). In presenting a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar, the soothing and stimulating, this collection provides an entertaining overview of modern choral music that is both stimulating and entertaining.

 

Anouar Brahem: After the Last Sky. Brahem: Hind; After the Last Sky; Endless Wandering; The Eternal Olive Tree; Awake; In the Shade of Your Eyes; Dancing Under the Meteorites; The Sweet Oranges of Jaffa; Never Forget; Edward Said’s Reverie; Vague. Anouar Brahem, oud; Anja Lechner, cello; Django Bates, piano; Dave Holland, double bass. ECM 2838

 

The interplay among the four musicians flows naturally and unforced, the music coming across as an amalgam of chamber and world music. The opening track, for example, Remembering Hind, is a brief duet for cello and piano that sounds as if it could be an excerpt from a cello sonata. The mood throughout the album is generally restrained, reflexive; at times – as in the track Endless Wandering – bordering on somber. The Eternal Olive Tree livens things up a bit, however, as Holland and Brahem engage in an energetic exchange. This is an album of extraordinary depths, the four musicians combining to produce an album of breathtaking beauty, chamber music of haunting emotional subtlety. The warm, natural, spacious ECM engineering adds to the luster of this sparkling gem. 

 

Anna Clyne: Abstractions. Clyne: Within Her Arms; Abstractions – I. Marble Moon II. Auguries III. Seascape IV. River V. Three; Restless Oceans; Color Field – I. Yellow II. Red III. Orange. Baltimore Symphony Orchestra; Marin Alsop, conductor. Naxos 8.574620

 

 Clyne wrote the deeply moving elegy Within Her Arms, which is set for an ensemble of 15 strings, shortly after the death of her mother in 2008. The remaining compositions are scored for full orchestra, showcasing both the rich imagination of the composer and the deft playing of the Baltimore players. Although the music is not particularly tuneful, neither is it overly abstract; rather, it is engaging and entertaining, with many striking effects. It is music that makes you want to listen to it over and over again to discover its many striking moments.

 

Debussy: Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune L87 (arr. David Walter); Violin Sonata in G minor L148; Sonata for flute, viola and harp L145; Cello Sonata in D minor L144; String Quartet in G minor L91. The Nash Ensemble. Hyperion CDA68463

 

Those classical music fans who are familiar with previous recordings by the venerable British chamber collective known as the Nash Ensemble have no doubt come to expect quality work from the group. Here, they present French music and do so quite persuasively. This generously filled disc (77+ minutes) opens with a delightfully transparent arrangement – not too thin, not too thick – of Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune for the combination of string quintet, wind quintet, and crotales (small tuned cymbals). Although the remainder of the program might be of music that many fans of Debussy might already have in their collection, the quality of the performances, the quality of the engineering, the quality of the liner notes, and the particularly noteworthy version of Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune combine to make this a most persuasive release.

Fred Hersch: The Surrounding Green. Hersch: Plainsong; Ornette Coleman: Law Years; Hersch: The Surrounding Green; Egberto Gismonti: Palhaço; George and Ira Gershwin: Embraceable You; Charlie Haden: First Song; Hersch: Anticipation. Fred Hersch, piano; Drew Gress, double bass; Joey Baron, drums. ECM 2826

 

Prior to this recording, these three musicians had never recorded together as a trio. You’ never guess that from listening, though, as the music just seems to flow so naturally, so beautifully, so lyrically. That doesn’t mean “easy listening,” however; the inclusion of an Ornette Coleman tune, Law Years, should provide a clue that all is not simple tunefulness. But even here, there is nothing to assault the senses; rather, it’s more a feeling of contrast and coloration. After all, Ornette was nothing if not lyrical. Perhaps not traditionally so, but my goodness, his music bursts forth with tuneful joy, and these three musicians understand that. Hersch’s title track, The Surrounding Green, is another exemplar of lyrically flowing music that cannot but help induce aesthetic satisfaction. Recorded in ECM’s typical warm, spacious sound quality and featuring especially appealing cover art (although, sadly but not surprisingly, no liner notes), this is an album packed with tasteful, thoughtful, rewarding music.

 

Alexander Knaifel: Chapter Eight. Knaifel: Canticum Canticorum for cathedral, choirs, and cello – 1. Stanza I-VII 2. Stanza VIII-XXII 3. Stanza XXIII-XXXII. Patrick Demenga, cello; State Choir Latvija; Riga Cathedral Boys Choir; Youth Choir Kamer; Andres Mustonen, conductor. ECM New Series 2637 485 9853

 

There is abundant beauty to be found in Chapter Eight, but it is beauty of a subtle sort. Knaifel considered the acoustic environment in which the piece would be played – a cathedral – to be instrumental in producing the sound he envisioned. Although the listing in the header above of three choirs and a cello soloist might give the impression that this is going to be some sort of sonic spectacular, with soaring vocal soloists, complex contrapuntal choral lines, and virtuosic flights of fancy from the cello, the music is restrained, contemplative, yet powerful in its own way. Rostropovich said of Chapter Eight, “It is amazing with what a deep sense of beauty this composition for church, choruses, and cello is imbued.” The performance on this album was recorded in Lucerne’s Jesuitenkirche, built in the Baroque era, and long renowned for its exceptional acoustic properties. With that beautiful sound faithfully captured by the ECM engineering team, this is a release to be treasured.

 

Anna Lapwood: Firedove. (1) The Bells of Nidaros Cathedral; (2) Alan Manken: The Bells of Notre Dame (fromThe Hunchback of Notre Dame); (3) Hans Zimmer: Time (from Inception); (4) Flight – Introduction; (5) Rachel Portman: Flight; (6) Olivia Bell: Limina Luminis; (7) Julie Cooper: Firedove; (8) Ivo Antognini: Come to Me; (9) Bob Dylan: Make You Feel My Love; (10) Robbie Williams & Guy Chambers: Angels; (11) Ola Gjeilo: Northern Lights; (12) Poppy Ackroyd: Murmurations; (13) Louis Vierne: Naïades; (14) Hania Rani: Glass; (15) Maurice Duruflé: Prélude et Fugue sur le Nom D’Alain Op. 7. Anna Lapwood, organ and conductor; Jess Gillam, saxophone (4, 5); The Chapel Choir of Pembroke Choir, Cambridge (7, 8, 9); Elena Urioste, violin (7); Molly Hord, organ (9); Maryam Giraud, soloist (9). Sony Classical 19802809272

 

Anna Lapwood MBE (b. 1995) is skilled not only as an organist, but as a conductor and broadcaster as well. Now she is here with a new album, which she characterizes as “an explosion of emotion, bringing together all the different strands of my musical world, from organ to choral, and from classical to pop, all seen through the lens of this remarkable instrument.” The “remarkable instrument” to which she refers is the organ at Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, Norway. The centerfold picture in the CD booklet shows Lapwood seated at the keyboard of this imposing instrument, which was built in 1930. With 129 stops and more than 9,600 pipes, it is one of the largest organs in northern Europe. From the sound of the cathedral bells that open the album, the choir, the plaintive saxophone, and of course the magnificent organ itself, the album unfolds a full spectrum of sound from the intimate to the grand. Remarkably, despite the varied nature of the program, Lapwood’s musical vision comes through as consistent and compelling.

 

Mahler: Symphony No. 9. Park Avenue Chamber Symphony; David Bernard, conductor. Recursive Classics RC3691873

 

Transparency of sound is an outstanding feature of this release, in terms of both performance and engineering. The opening movement, for example, moves right along, although it never seems rushed. It has texture – the sound is not dominated by strings; moreover, the tempo is steady, with no sensation of a drag to pull at our heartstrings. It just sounds natural and unaffected. And so with the second movement, which dances, as it should, and an especially lively and energetic Rondo-Burleske third movement – in both these inner movements, the liveliness of both the performance and the recorded sound bring a sense of delight that belie the reputation this work sometimes gets as a morbid, gloomy work. The closing Adagio, the longest of the four movements (25:05 in this performance), is of course more serious in tone, but even here, the interpretation never goes over the top into the maudlin. All in all, this new release offers a fresh new way of enjoying the Mahler Ninth that should be of great interest to serious Mahlerites. 

 

Ravel: Complete Works for Solo Piano. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, piano. CHANDOS CHAN 20287(2)

 

This new recording by Bavouzet is clearly a labor of love, the pianist returning to the music of Ravel two decades after his earlier recording, bringing with him a deeper appreciation for the music of the great French master. The generous CD booklet contains not only extensive notes on the music by eminent English musicologist Hugh Macdonald, but also an essay by Bavouzet in which he marvels at how Ravel, who was far from a virtuoso pianist himself, “was capable of inventing the most magical pianistic effects without being able to try them out himself?” But Bavouzet is able to produce Ravel’s magical pianistic effects, and the Chandos engineering team has done a fine job of recording them. This has become my new favorite Ravel piano set. 

Words Fall Short. Joshua Redman: A Message to Unsend; *So It Goes; Words Fall Short; Borrowed Eyes; **Icarus; Over the Jelly-Green Sea; She Knows; ***Era’s End. Joshua Redman, tenor and soprano saxophones; Paul Cornish, piano; Philip Norris, double bass; Nazir Ebo, drums; with *Melissa Aldana, tenor saxophone; **Skylar Tang, trumpet; ***Gabrielle Cavassa, vocals. Blue Note 00602475915096

 

This time around, Redman is offering us an instrumental album featuring his band cutting loose on his compositions. It is especially fun to hear Redman and guest tenor star Melissa Aldana (whose own albums as a leader are well worth seeking out) trading licks on So It Goes. (How wonderful it would be for these two tenor titans to someday record an entire album together – is there any possibility that could actually happen?) On the track Icarus, trumpeter Skylar Tang adds some extra punch to the proceedings as she sometimes doubles Redman’s sax, sometimes steps out to solo, and drummer Ebo also really drives things along with plenty of kinetic energy. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention pianist Paul Cornish, whose melodic touch is evident right from the opening track, and bassist Philip Norris, who kicks off the title track with a thumping bass solo. Although vocalist Cavassa is featured on only one tune, her contribution is a valuable one, bringing bittersweet pathos to Era’s End to close out the album. All in all, Words Fall Short is another solid effort from a modern jazz master.

Keith Jarrett: A Tribute

by Karl Nehring

Earlier this month, American pianist and composer Keith Jarrett celebrated his 80^th birthday. Although best known as a jazz pianist, his body of work extends far beyond jazz – and beyond the piano. We have reviewed a few of his recordings in the past; you can find those reviews here (Budapest Concert), here, (Bourdeaux Concert), and here (C.P.E. Bach Sonatas). Like many people, my first encounter with his playing was from listening to Forest Flower, on which Jarrett played piano as a member of the Charles Lloyd Quartet in a live set at the 1966 Monterey Jazz Festival that was released on Atlantic Records in 1967. In 1971, Jarrett, who was then touring with Miles Davis, had a fateful meeting with producer Manfred Eicher that resulted in Jarrett recording a solo piano album, Facing You, which was released in 1972 on Eicher’s ECM label. In 1973, had released Solo Concerts: Bremen/Lausanne, the first of what would become a series of concert recordings during which Jarrett played improvised music. Popular music critic Rick Beato has posted a YouTube video (which you can see here) describing a segment of this recording as “two of the most beautiful minutes in music.” 

While in the Army in 1974, I picked up both of his “American” quartet albums – Fort Yawuh and Treasure Island – on the Impulse! label, the latter of which featured Jarrett picking up the soprano saxophone on one of the cuts. As a side note, his “American” quartet included the late Dewey Redman, father of Joshua Redman (whose recent performance we mentioned here), on tenor saxophone, along with Charlie Haden on bass and Paul Motian on drums). 1974 also saw the release of the album Belonging on the ECM label, this by Jarrett’s “European” quartet, with Jan Garbarek on tenor saxophone, Palle Danielsson on bass, and Jon Christensen on drums. It’s a beautiful recording, highlighting Jarrett’s skill as a composer as well as a pianist. Then in 1975, ECM released what would become the best-selling piano recording in history, Jarrett’s The Köln Concert. It’s a spellbinding album that still sounds fresh and new 50 years after its initial release.

In 1976, Jarrett received a commission from the Deutsche Grammophon to compose a piece for the Boston Symphony Orchestra. It was to be conducted by Seiji Ozawa and feature Jarrett on piano. Jarrett completed his 200-page, 40-minute score for The Celestial Hawk in 1978. The BSO had been expecting a jazzy piece with Jarrett doing a lot of improvising, apparently thinking that would guarantee box-office success; when they saw it was a serious classical composition, they lost interest, and the project was dropped. Instead, Eicher decided to record the work for his ECM label, with Jarrett on piano accompanied by the Syracuse Symphony Orchestra conducted by Christopher Keene. It was released in 1980.

 

In 1984, Eicher decided to expand ECM into the classical realm and brought a new sound into the musical world with the release of Arvo Pärt’s Tabula rasa, the first album on the label’s New Series imprint. This recording also marked the intersection of some of the most longstanding, significant musical collaborators in the label’s history: Arvo Pärt, Gidon Kremer, and Keith Jarrett. I was quite familiar with Jarrett, somewhat familiar with Kremer, but my familiarity with Pärt extended only as far as having heard his name but not his music when, late at night in 1984 while sitting in my car having just finished a shift as a security guard while I was still in grad school, over the radio came music that immediately held me under its spell. The late-night host on WOSU-FM announced that he was playing some tracks from a new album of music by the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, and that we had just heard his composition Fratres, performed by violinist Gidon Kremer and pianist Keith Jarrett. Keith Jarrett?! Although the music sold itself, Jarrett’s endorsement made me even more eager to run out and purchase the CD just as soon as I could find it; I have been an enthusiastic Arvo Pärt fan ever since.

Jarrett went on to release many, many recordings over the ensuing decades, both as a soloist and as part of an ensemble. Many of these were jazz, of course, but there were also many classical efforts, in music of Bach Handel, Mozart, Shostakovich, Bartók, Barber, Harrison, and Hovhaness. (If I may be permitted another personal aside, it was Jarrett who introduced me to the 24 Preludes and Fugues for Piano by Shostakovich – I had many recordings of DSCH’s symphonies and was somewhat familiar with his concertos and chamber music but had no idea this marvelous piano music even existed until ECM released Jarrett’s recording in 1992. I now own several versions and continue to delight in this music that Jarrett first revealed to me.) 

 

In 1994, Jarrett’s Bridge of Light album appeared on the ECM New Series label, containing four classical compositions by Jarrett: Elegy for Violin and String Orchestra, Adagio for Oboe and String Orchestra, Sonata for Violin and Piano, and Bridge of Light for Viola and Orchestra. Jarrett said of these works, “Actually, all of these pieces are born of a desire to praise and contemplate rather than a desire to "make" or "show" or "demonstrate" something unique. They are, in a certain way, prayers that beauty may remain perceptible despite fashions, intellect, analysis, progress, technology, distractions, "burning issues" of the day, the un-hipness of belief or faith, concert programming, and the unnatural "scene" of "art", the market, lifestyles, etc., etc., etc. I am not attempting to be "clever" in these pieces (or in these notes), I am not attempting to be a composer. I am trying to reveal a state I think is missing in today's world (except, perhaps, in private): a certain state of surrender: surrender to an ongoing harmony in the universe that exists with or without us. Let us let it in.” It is a charming album, pastoral and serene. If you were to listen to it today without being told who the composer is, your guess might well be a British composer such as, say. Butterworth. 

Tragically enough, in 2018 Jarrett suffered the first of several strokes that robbed him of the use of his left hand, thus leaving him unable to continue his career at the piano. However, ECM has since released several albums of past concert performances; in fact, there is a release of a recording he made in Vienna that we will be reviewing in a forthcoming post. For more insight into this fascinating musician, whose music blurred the boundaries between classical and jazz, between composed and improvised, there is a an in-depth interview that the notoriously press-shy Jarrett granted to Rick Beato; that fascinating video can be seen here.

Two Box Sets and Two Sets in a Box (CD & Live Concert Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Shostakovich: Symphonies-Concertos-Lady Macbeth. (CDs1-12) Symphonies 1-15; (CD 13) Incidental Music and Chamber Symphony; (CD 14) Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CD 15) Violin Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CD 16) Cello Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CDs 17-19) Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District. Yuja Wang, piano; Baiba Skride, violin; Yo-Yo Ma, cello; Kristīne Opolais, soprano; Boston Symphony Orchestra; Andris Nelsons, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 486 6849 

 

Back in 2015 the Boston Symphony Orchestra and its then newly appointed Music Director Andris Nelsons teamed up with Deutsche Grammophon and embarked on a project to record all 15 Shostakovich symphonies, starting with No. 10, which was reviewed soon after it release by our own John Puccio (you can find that review here). As the project continued, we reviewed a couple of the subsequent releases, including Nos. 4 & 11 in 2019 (review located here) and Nos. 1, 14. & 15 in 2021 (found here). Fast forward to 2025, which coincides with the 50^th anniversary oh Shostakovich’s death, and DG has decided to gather all 15 symphony recordings into a box set – but wait, there’s more. In addition to the symphonies, we get the two piano concertos, two violin concerto, two cello concertos, a concert version of his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, and more. Nineteen discs in all, and no, we have not carefully auditioned them all. Too many discs, too little time. 

From our previous reviews, you will see that we were quite favorably impressed by their versions of Symphonies 10, 4, and 11, but less so by Nos. 1, 14, and 15. From this new set, our time spent listening to Wang’s performances of the piano concertos proved quite delightful (those performances have been released in a separate CD that Ryan Ross will be reviewing soon). We also gave a quick listen to Skride’s performances of the violin concertos and found them to be tenderly expressive but on the slow side – which may have added to the feeling of emotional resonance. Surely many listeners will already own favorite versions of several of these DSCH compositions; however, the outstanding playing of the BSO, the excellent sound quality, and the convenience of having all these works gathered into one collection combine to make this set an attractive collection for serious Shostakovich fans.

 

Lorin Maazel Conducts the Cleveland Orchestra: The Complete CBS Masterworks. (CD 1) Berlioz: Le carnaval romain, H 95: Overture; Brahms: Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80; Barber: The School For Scandal, Op. 5: Overture; Brahms: Symphony No. 1 in C Minor, Op. 68; (CD 2) R. Strauss: Ein Heldenleben, Op. 40; (CD 3) Beethoven: Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Op. 21; Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 36; (CD 4) Beethoven:Symphony No. 3 in E-Flat Major, Op. 55 "Eroica"; (CD 5) Beethoven: Symphony No. 4 in B-Flat Major, Op. 60; Symphony No. 8 in F Major, Op. 93; (CD 6) Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67; Egmont Overture, Op. 84; Leonore Overture No. 3, Op. 72; (CD 7) Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 in F Major, Op. 68 "Pastoral"; (CD 8) Beethoven: Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92; Fidelio Overture, Op. 72; (CD 9) Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125 "Choral"; (CD 10) Strauss: Don Juan, Op. 20; Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks, Op. 28; Death and Transfiguration; (CD 11) Berlioz: Symphonie Fantastique, Op. 14; (CD 12) Serge Lama: Les P'tites Femmes de Pigalle; Chez Moi; Je t'aime à la folie; Je suis malade; L'esclave; La Chanteuse a vingt ans; La Salle de Bains; Ah!; L'enfant au piano; Femmes, Femmes, Femmes; L'enfant d'un autre; An old-fashioned Waltz; (CD 13) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64; (CD 14) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 in B Minor, Op. 74 "Pathétique"; (CD 15) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4 in F Minor, Op. 36. Cleveland Orchestra; Lorin Maazel, conductor. Sony Classical 19802819982

 

When music lovers talk of remarkable musical prodigies or notable conductors of the 20^th century, how likely is Lorin Maazel (1930-2014) likely to be put forward as a candidate for consideration? Based on my experience at least, not very often, if at all. But Maazel’s story is a remarkable one: the man was a marvel. Maazel was born in Paris, but in 1932 his family moved to Los Angeles, where soon after they enrolled the youngster first in violin lessons and while still a young child, conducting lessons with the associate conductor of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He was not yet 10 when he mounted the Pittsburgh Symphony’s podium and only 11 when he was invited by none other than Toscanini himself to conduct the NBC Symphony nationally broadcast concert.  By the time he reached 15, he was determined to get a university education and withdrew from conducting engagements to study languages and philosophy at the University of Pittsburgh – meanwhile also giving violin recitals and playing in the Pittsburgh SO and the Fine Arts Quartet. After graduation, a Fulbright Scholarship took him to Rome, and in 1953 he made his European debut, standing in for an indisposed conductor in Catania. By 1960 he had conducted some 300 concerts with more than 20 European orchestras and, aged 30, became the youngest conductor, the first American, and the first Jew since the fall of the Third Reich to appear at the Bayreuth Festival.

When music lovers talk of the Cleveland Orchestra, the conductor’s name that immediately pops up is that of George Szell (1897-1970), who led the orchestra from 1946 until his death in 1970. His name is still nearly synonymous with the orchestra; for example, Christoph von Dohnányi, who succeeded Maazel as Music Director in Cleveland, once quipped, “we give a great concert, and George Szell gets a great review.” But it was Maazel who faced the unenviable task of succeeding becoming Szell’s immediate successor, taking over as Music Director in 1972. Interestingly, although Maazel is sometimes thought of today as a bit stiff and literal in style, when he took over in Cleveland, there was grousing that his style was “too emotional” when compared to that of his legendary predecessor. For Maazel and/or Clevland Orchestra fans, this åcompetitive Beethoven symphony cycle and some fine Strauss. It also contains one of the stranger things I have heard in quite some time, Maazel’s own “symphonic realizations” of åviolin on a French TV show, Maazel hatched the idea of “lending Lama’s poetry a new, larger dimension.” Let’s just say it was not one of Maazel’s finest moments.

 

The booklet included in the box contains some background information on Maazel, some photographs, and reproductions of the original LP covers. For devoted Maazel fans, this box may well be an attractive package. 

 

Joel Ross’s Good Vibes (Joel Ross, vibraphone; Jeremy Corren, piano; Kanoa Mendenhall, bass; Maria Grand, tenor saxophone; Josh Johnson, alto saxophone; ​Jeremy Dutton, drums). Live set at the Performance Space in the Wexner Center for the Performing Arts at The Ohio State University, Columbus, OH. March 6, 2025.

 

The Performance Space at the Wexner Center at OSU offers a comfortable setting in which to enjoy a musical performance. In early March, the stage was occupied by the Chicago-born vibraphonist Joel Ross (b. 1995), who now operates out of Brooklyn, and his band, Good Vibes. Unlike many jazz vibes players, who use four mallets, two in each hand, Ross prefers to play with only one in each hand, because he says he does not want to dictate harmony. This manner of playing also lends clarity to his sound, putting the emphasis on melody and rhythm. This was evident as he began the set on his vibraphone, hammering out a solo. Ross had offered no spoken no introduction – neither of the band members, nor of the music; instead, the band walked on stage and Ross just started tapping on his vibes, playing for several minutes, establishing a pulse and a melody that was picked up by the rest of the group as they began to join in. 

 

What followed was an hour-long continuous stream of music. The music seemed to slowly mutate as it went along, with subtle shifts in tempo, melody, rhythm, and harmony. Phrases would appear, get passed around among the group, disappear, sometimes to reappear 10 or 15 minutes later in a subtly different form and tempo. From time to time there were solos; special mention must be made of the contributions of Maria Grand on tenor saxophone, who dazzled the crowd with a couple of incredible solos, especially when she explored the extreme treble range of which the instrument is capable. Overall, though, the most impressive thing about the show was seeing how these musicians could interact with each other over the span of an hour, delighting in the subtleties of musical creation and interaction. Although it features more structured tunes in a studio setting, Ross’s most recent album, nublues (Blue Note), is well worth a listen.

 

Joshua Redman Group (Joshua Redman, tenor saxophone; Gabrielle Cavassa, vocals; Paul Cornish, piano; Philip Norris, bass; Nazir Ebo, drums). Live set at the Performance Space in the Wexner Center for the Performing Arts at The Ohio State University, Columbus, OH. April 3, 2025.

 

In contrast to Joel Ross, who had barely interacted with the audience, saxophonist Joshua Redman (b. 1969) greeted the audience with enthusiasm and established an immediate rapport as he recalled previous shows in Columbus. Also in contrast to the Ross concert, which had been one continuous stream of music, Redman’s show was a set of tunes, many of them featuring vocals by the remarkable Gabrielle Cavassa, who offered powerful interpretations of such familiar standards such as By the Time I Get to Phoenix, I Left My Heart in San Francisco, and Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?. Of course, there were also plenty of instrumental highlights along the way, with not only some blazing saxophone solos by Redman, of course, but also an energetic bass solo by Philip Norris that earned a rousing round of applause from the audience.

 

The group was on a tour showcasing their Blue Note album, Where Are We, which includes the tunes mentioned above. To close their live set, Cavassa sang another song from the album, Stars Fell on Alabama, after which Redman played an extended, impassioned solo on his saxophone that was simply heart-rending before the whole band joined in on John Coltrane's Alabama, capping off a night to remember. Redman has a new album coming out in June, Words Fall Short (Blue Note), that will include these musicians plus some guests, including the exciting young tenor saxophonist Melissa Aldana.

Moderne: Art Choral Vol. 6 (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Ola Gjeilo (b. 1978): Unicornis Captivatur; Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Lux AEterna (excerpt from Nimrod from Enigma Variations, arrangement by John Cameron); Ambroz Čopi (b. 1973): II. Regina caeli (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Morten Lauridsen (b. 1943): O magnum mysterium; Čopi: IV. Ave, Regina caelorum (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Samuel Barber (1910-1981): Agnus Dei (Adagio for Strings, Op. 11, transcription for mixed choir); Jake Runestad (b.1986): Nyon Nyon; Uģis Prauliņš (b. 1957): Missa Regensis: I. Kyrie eleison; Andrew Balfour (b. 1967): Praeter rerum seriem; Aaron Copland (1900-1990): Help Us, O Lord (excerpt from Four Motets) Pablo Casals(1876-1973): O vos omnes (Antífona del Nocturno 3º de Sábado Santo). Ensemble ArtChoral (Janelle Lucyk, Marie Magistry, Magali Simard-Galdès, sopranos; Ghislaine Deschambault, Claudine Ledoux, Rachèle Tremblay, altos; Kerry Bursey, Bernard Cayouette, Arthur Tanguay-Labrosse, tenors; Alasdair Campbell, William Kraushaar, Guillaume St-Cyr, basses); Matthias Maute, director. ATMA Classique ACD2 2425 

We have not reviewed a choral release in Classical Candor so far this year (2025); the last time we gave a listen to a CD spotlighting the performance of a choir was back in November, 2024, in a review of new music by the composers Ēriks Ešenvalds and Rachel Laurin (a review that you can find here). While that release featured large works by two composers, this new ATMA release instead focuses on music from a specific musical era: in this case, the Modern Era. As you can discern from the album’s title, this is Volume 6 in a series that includes Vol. 1, Renaissance; Vol. 2, Baroque I; Vol. 3, Baroque II; Vol. 4, Classsique; Vol. 5, Romantique; and Vol. 7, Noël.

As the liner notes observe about the current state of composition for chorus, “the choral repertoire continued to expand during the 20^th and 21^st centuries thanks especially to contributions from North American and Scandinavian composers. Some, such as Morten Lauridsen and Ola Gjeilo, have specialized in contemporary choral composition – in fact, they have written so much and so well that their works have become benchmarks of such music – while others have remained attached to the traditional and sacred character of choral music.”

Readers conversant with choral music may well be familiar with Lauridsen’s O magnum mysterium, which has been widely recorded, including a luminous rendition led by Robert Shaw and captured in audiophile-quality sound in a Telarc release reviewed by John Puccio back in 2018 (review here). Regarding Gjeilo, we have reviewed a couple of his previous releases: Dawn, for solo piano (review here) , which we found disappointing, and Dreamweaver, which included music for chorus with piano and orchestra (review here), a better effort – although our favorite remains his Chandos release titled Northern Lights. His Unicornis Captivatur sounds a bit more traditional than some of his work but makes for a fine opening to the program. The remainder is a mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar, with old standbys such as the choral arrangements of the Barber Adagio and the Elgar Nimrod mixed in with less familiar works by composers whose names might be familiar (such as Copland and Casals) or perhaps lass familiar (such as Čopi or Prauliņš).

One piece that really jumps out, though, is by a composer whose name, although maybe not quite a household name, should not be completely unfamiliar to our readers, for we have reviewed one his releases before (review here), although to be fair, it was a few years ago… Anyway, Nyon Nyon has a unique sound that quickly captures your attention: What are they singing?! From the helpful liner notes, which include texts for all the compositions as well as some information about them, we find the following lyrics:

Nyon nyon

See mahkah who when

Yah hah doo be dah

Ooit tihkih ahh sah

Dnn tss

Runestad explains that Nyon Nyon “explores the wide range of sonic effects that the human voice can produce. The work plunges the listener into an acoustically diverse world populated by original phonemes, each with its own vowel color and way of being produced. By incorporating effects similar to those usually produced by a wah-wah pedal on an electric guitar – itself inspired by nasal sonorities – and other effects mimicking synthesizers, drums, or a bass guitar, the piece turns the choir into a ‘full-fledged vocal orchestra’.” Now, that description – not to mention those lyrics – may strike some readers as off-putting, but trust me, it’s a lively, entertaining piece that is a wonder and a delight.  In presenting a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar, the soothing and stimulating, this collection provides an entertaining overview of modern choral music that is well performed, well recorded, and enthusiastically recommended.

Sounds of America (CD review)

Music of Barber, Copland, and Bernstein. Jon Manasse, clarinet; David Bernard, Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. Recursive Classics RC3139941.

By John J. Puccio

You probably already know that David Bernard is an award-winning conductor and that the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony includes mainly players who do other things for a living (like being hedge-fund managers, philanthropists, CEO's, UN officials, and so on). While they are not full-time musicians, their playing belies any skepticism about the quality of their work; everyone involved with the orchestra deserves praise. Nor does the word “Chamber” in the ensemble’s title indicate a particularly small group. It's about the size of a regular, full-sized symphony orchestra; yet their performances are slightly more intimate and the sound slightly more transparent than most orchestras. In the last analysis, they make beautiful music together, which is all that matters.

With the current album, Maestro Bernard and company present four pieces celebrating America by American composers. The first up is the familiar but always welcome Adagio for Strings by Samuel Barber (1910-1981). It’s an arrangement for orchestra that Barber took from the second movement of his String Quartet, Op. 11. Arturo Toscanini and the NBC Symphony premiered it in 1938. The thing about the Adagio is that although that tempo marking means “slow and graceful,” there is a good deal of latitude about how a conductor actually handles it. The accompanying booklet mentions, for instance, that Toscanini got through the piece in a little over seven minutes, and that subsequent conductors have taken as long as nine or ten minutes. Maestro Bernard manages a tidy 8:35, neither too hurried nor too relaxed. It is as lovely a rendition as any I’ve heard.

Next is the familiar suite from Appalachian Spring, written in 1944 by Aaron Copland (1900-1990). Its eight movements take us through the ballet. Copland originally scored it for a small theater-pit orchestra, but the subsequent suite opens it up to a bigger, fuller, more luxuriant sound, one well suited to the Park Avenue players. Bernard does a splendid job conveying all the color of the piece, the characters, and their actions.

The third item is also by Copland, the Clarinet Concerto, written between 1947-49 on a commission from bandleader and jazz clarinetist Benny Goodman. On the present recording the soloist is Jon Manasse. Bernard leads a longingly pensive, wistfully reflective interpretation of the work, with a beautifully measured response from Manasse.

The album concludes with the Symphonic Dances from West Side Story by Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990). Inspired by Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Bernstein premiered the musical West Side Story on Broadway in 1957. The Symphonic Dances is a suite in nine movements of music derived from the show, a suite the composer prepared in 1960. Like the rest of the program, it’s familiar territory, but it’s freshened by Maestro Bernard’s enthusiastic approach. He seems genuinely engaged with the music, its story, and its people, and he brings the whole thing to life with his vigorous, animated direction.

Audio engineers Joel Watts, Brian Losch, and Jennifer Nulsen recorded the music at the DiMenna Center for the Performing Arts, New York City in November 2019. Appropriate to the music, the sound is lush and full, a trifle warm and soft, but quite natural. It displays good, lifelike detail, range, and dynamics without being in any way bright, forward, or edgy. It’s remarkably easy on the ear, rewarding both the casual listener and the discerning audiophile alike.

JJP

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

One Movement Symphonies (CD review)

Barber: First Symphony; Sibelius: Symphony No. 7; Scriabin: Le poem de l’extase. Michael Stern, Kansas City Symphony. Reference Recordings RR-149.

By John J. Puccio

Sometimes you think you know something, and you don’t. In this case, I thought I knew pretty much what a symphony was all about. Apparently, I didn’t.

“Symphony: an extended piece in three or more movements for symphony orchestra.” --American Heritage Dictionary

“Symphony: a work usually consisting of multiple distinct sections, often four.” --Wikipedia

“Symphony: a lengthy form of musical composition for orchestra, normally consisting of several large sections, or movements, at least one of which usually employs sonata form.” --Encyclopedia Britannica

“Symphony: a usually long and complex sonata for symphony orchestra.” --Merriam-Webster Dictionary

But as the producers of this disc, One Movement Symphonies, point out, those definitions are not necessarily true. Each of the works on the album is a one-movement orchestral piece that their composers identified as “symphonies.” Yet these are not obscure works by obscure composers. They are major symphonic pieces by composers we all know: Samuel Barber’s First Symphony; Jean Sibelius’s Seventh Symphony; and Alexander Scriabin’s Le poeme de l’extase (“The Poem of Ecstasy”). OK. We all know the music. But have we really considered them “symphonies” in any strict sense of the term? Maybe. Maybe not.

Be that as it may, it’s the “one-movement” business that holds the program together, starting with the First Symphony (1936) by American composer, conductor, pianist, and singer Samuel Barber (1910-1981). Barber subtitled it “In One Movement” just to make clear what he was up to, and sometimes people refer to it simply as the “Symphony in One Movement.” Despite the title, however, the work really is divided into four brief sections: Allegro ma non troppo, Allegro molto, Andante tranquillo, and Con moto. Barber modeled it on Sibelius’s Seventh Symphony, which is also divided into traditional movements but played without breaks.

Maestro Michael Stern and the Kansas City Symphony play the piece in a fairly straightforward manner, without undue flourish yet with delicate nuance. They handle the mood swings in the music with subtlety and grace, producing if not the most striking account of the piece ever recorded certainly one of the most enjoyable.

Next, speaking of Sibelius, comes the famous Symphony No. 7 in C major, written 1924 by Finnish composer and violinist Jean Sibelius (1865-1957). When Sibelius premiered it, however, he called it Fantasia sinfonica No. 1, a "symphonic fantasy." It wasn’t until the next year and its publication that he decided to label it a true “symphony.” By whatever name he wanted to call it, the work is still divided into distinct sections, in this case more than ever, with no less than ten discrete divisions from an opening Adagio to a closing Affettuoso (with “feeling” or “warmth”) and Tempo 1 (a return to the work’s initial tempo). However, the uniting thread holding it all together is not a series of contrasting keys and themes as in most traditional symphonies but a single, unifying key, C, and a series of constantly changing tempos. Again we get an honest, forthright presentation from Maestro Stern, with the orchestra sounding rich and resonant. The music remains colorful, lyrical, almost magical throughout, and the performance provides much pleasure.

The final work is Le poeme de l’extase (1905-08) by the Russian composer and pianist Alexander Scriabin (1871-1915). This work I’ve always thought of a symphonic poem rather than a true symphony mainly because it avoids the usual symphonic movements and contents itself to communicate a set of more spiritual emotions. Scriabin described it as “the joy of liberated action,” and approved the following program notes: “The stronger the pulse beat of life and the more rapid the precipitation of rhythms, the more clearly the awareness comes to the Spirit that it is consubstantial with creativity itself. When the Spirit has attained the supreme culmination of its activity and has been torn away from the embraces of teleology and relativity, when it has exhausted completely its substance and its liberated active energy, the Time of Ecstasy shall arrive.”

It’s a rather fanciful way of saying the music is sensual and provocative and should be played and enjoyed with passion. Stern’s way with it isn’t exactly in the heady realms of a Stokowski, Svetlanov, Gergiev, Muti, Abbado, or Mitropoulos, but it comes close enough. Stern appears to go for a beauty in the work beyond its mysticism, making it all the more enchanting, even beguiling for the listener.

Producer David Frost and engineer Keith O. Johnson recorded the symphonies at Helzberg Hall, Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts, Kansas City, Missouri in June 2016. This is a classic Reference Recordings production, meaning it sounds the way Reference Recordings discs have sounded since their founding back in 1976 and the way we’ve always loved them. The sound is dynamic, dimensional, wide ranging, and real. That last is particularly important. Reference Recordings have never tried to sound “audiophile,” just lifelike, and in the process the company has, perhaps ironically, established itself as a leader in the audiophile recording industry.

Anyway, this is all by way of saying that the current disc displays wide frequency and dynamic ranges, a solid impact, and a realistic orchestral depth and width. It comes about as close as one can get to sitting in a concert hall at a moderate distance from the ensemble. It’s quite impressive.

JJP

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

Classic HAUSER (CD review)

Music of Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff, Bach, Mozart, Chopin, and others. HAUSER, cello; London Symphony Orchestra. Sony 19075988532.

By John J. Puccio

He’s young; he’s handsome; he’s talented. He is (or was) one half of the crossover phenomenon called the 2CELLOS. Now he’s also a singles act, a gifted cellist that Sony appears to be marketing as another Mario Lanza. He is so big, in fact, that Stjepan Hauser has now outgrown his name and is just HAUSER. Yet so big that his name can only be accommodated by capital letters (like 2CELLOS), making him, I suppose, even bigger than Liberace or Cher. You can see where I’m going with this.

HAUSER’s latest release, “Classic HAUSER,” is more like a pop concert than an actual classical album. Yes, it says “Classic” in the title, but Sony is clearly going after the youth market here, no doubt mainly young women who may swoon over both the Romanticism of the music and the good looks of the artist. The disc comprises sixteen selections, the longest being around eight minutes and the majority being closer to the pop standard of four minutes or less. A booklet note tells us the final item, Barber’s Adagio for Strings, is 0:00 minutes. You can’t get much shorter than that. (Actually, it’s 7:57.)

I’ve mentioned this before, but I can’t help thinking of the first “classical” album I ever bought: a boxed LP set of the 101 Strings playing parts of famous classical pieces. But they were complete parts, like entire movements of longer works. Here, HAUSER plays brief portions of popular classical music, most of them written for other instruments and transcribed for cello.

He plays the pieces beautifully, of course, and the London Symphony Orchestra backs him with their usual grace and accomplishment. But the music is still in bits and pieces, meant to satisfy fans of the soloist who are not necessarily fans of classical music. So, I guess what I’m saying is to be aware of what you’re getting. You may be satisfied for a moment or two, but you may also long for more.

HAUSER

Here’s a rundown on the album’s contents:

  1. Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake

  2. Rachmaninoff - Second Piano Concerto

  3. Dalla - Caruso

  4. Bach - Air On a G String

  5. Tchaikovsky - The Nutcracker Suite

  6. Mozart - Concerto for Clarinet

  7. Chopin - Nocturne in C Sharp

  8. Mascagni - Intermezzo from Cavalierra Rusticana

  9. Yiruma - River Flows in You

10. Handel - Lascia Ch'io Pianga

11. Last - The Lonely Shepherd

12. Mozart - Piano Concerto No. 21

13. Borodin - Nocturne

14. Puccini - Nessun Dorma

15. Mozart - Lacrimosa

16. Barber - Adagio for Strings

HAUSER’s sound is lush and sonorous, depending on the selection. his tone golden, and his flexibility in handling all kinds of musical moments nigh perfect. I just wish he had more to work with than the golden oldies he presents here. While it’s all quite lovely, it’s all out of context, too, and all rather brief. What can we expect next? The Beatles Songbook, perhaps? And he would doubtless do it justice.

Producer Nick Patrick and engineers Neil Hutchinson and Simon Rhodes recorded the music at Henry Wood Hall, London in June 2019. The sound is befitting the nature of a pop album: It’s fairly close up, vivid in its detail, and somewhat flat in its perspective, with the soloist always well front and center. It’s also very loud, perhaps in anticipation of its being played in an automobile.

JJP

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

Shostakovich: Symphony No. 5 (SACD review)

Also, Barber: Adagio for Strings. Manfred Honeck, Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. Reference Recordings Fresh! FR-724SACD.

Many years ago the announcer, author, and music critic Martin Bookspan wrote of the Shostakovich Fifth that it is "... a symphony more than ordinarily pretentious, brooding, mystical, sardonic and sometimes vulgar. In short, it has many of the same virtues and faults one finds in the symphonies of Mahler." I've always agreed with most of that assessment. Even though Shostakovich and Mahler lived in different eras, their approach to symphonic writing was at least similar, the many changing moods of their music probably contributing to both composers' enduring popularity.

After his music fell out of favor with the Soviet government, Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975) wrote his Symphony in D minor in 1937 to ingratiate himself with the State. On the surface the piece appears to be traditional, inspirational, and patriotic; but later the composer would deny its patriotic bent, claiming it to be, in effect, satiric. Consequently, there are any number of ways to approach the score, some, like Leonard Bernstein doing it hell-bent-for-leather and others, like Manfred Honeck and his Pittsburgh Symphony, doing it in a more-restrained, orderly manner. Whether you take to Honeck's reading or not, there is no questioning he has an orchestra that responds beautifully to his every demand.

The opening movement, a Moderato-Allegro non troppo, is, as the tempo marking indicates, both gentle and reasonably vigorous. It starts slowly, lyrically, and gradually becomes faster and more agitated, but not too fast, building in momentum, and then ending in relative calm. Well, at least that's the way conductors usually approach it. Honeck, however, takes it at a more leisurely clip throughout, more quietly, building the contrasts more studiously, building the tensions and releases in broader incremental steps. There is more sadness here than anger in Honeck's view.

The second-movement Allegretto is a variation of the first theme of the preceding movement, taken at a speed just a little slower than Allegro. It serves as a scherzo, its tone satiric, mock-heroic. One can hear the influences of Mahler in this music more strongly than in most any other part of the symphony. Again, Honeck takes his time with the score's development, and I found that in his doing so he misses some of the music's more ironic elements.

The slow movement, the Largo, is the actual soul of the symphony, with long, engaging melodies predominating. It's a most-personal expression of the composer's feelings, and it's here that Honeck particularly excels, imparting to the music a heartfelt dignity, a longing, and a mournfulness that are quite affecting.

Manfred Honeck

The finale generally takes up where the first movement ended, with a clear martial or marchlike character. Whether the music is joyous and life-affirming or hectic and cynical is pretty much up to the conductor. Shostakovich seemed to want it both ways: to please the government and to please himself. Anyway, again we hear the Mahler influence (the final movement of Mahler's First Symphony comes to mind), and even though Honeck doesn't attack it with anything like the animation of a Bernstein, he stays in keeping with the rest of the presentation, and it comes off with a cautious expressiveness.

Accompanying the Shostakovich we find the little Adagio for Strings (1936), which the American composer Samuel Barber (1910-1981) prepared for string orchestra from the second movement of his String Quartet, Op. 11. It may seem at first glance an odd choice for a coupling, given that the Shostakovich symphony can be so feverish and the Barber so peaceful. However, I suppose that's the point: to juxtapose the two works, both of them written at around the same time yet in contrasting places and circumstances. And no doubt Maestro Honeck wanted especially to play up the similarities between the Barber piece and the sadness of the Shostakovich symphony's Largo. The real question, though, is whether Maestro Honeck does the Adagio justice, and the answer is yes, despite Honeck's penchant for drawing out phrases longer than always necessary and over emphasizing the point.

There are any number of good recordings of the Shostakovich Fifth Symphony one can choose from, among them Maris Jansons and the Vienna Philharmonic (EMI), Vladimir Ashkenazy and the Royal Philharmonic (Decca), Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic (Sony), Maxim Shostakovich and the USSR Symphony (RCA), Leopold Stokowski and the Stadium Symphony Orchestra (Everest), Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra (Sony/RCA), Bernard Haitink and the Concertgebouw Orchestra (Decca), Andre Previn and the London Symphony (RCA), Neeme Jarvi and the Scottish National Orchestra (Chandos), and the list goes on. Where does Honeck and his orchestra fit in? Almost anywhere in a crowded field, depending on how you like your Shostakovich played. For me personally, I prefer the energy of Bernstein and Stokowski; the sweep and grandeur of Ormandy; the authority of the composer's son, Maxim Shostakovich; and the simple directness and overall rightness of Haitink, Jansons, Ashkenazy, and Previn. Still, Honeck for his few idiosyncrasies, makes a viable alternative.

Producer Dirk Sobotka and engineer Mark Donahue (of Soundmirror, Boston) recorded the music live at Heinz Hall for the Performing Arts, Pittsburgh, PA in June (Shostakovich) and October (Barber) 2013. They made it for multichannel SACD playback, two-channel stereo SACD playback, and two-channel regular CD playback. I listened in the two-channel SACD mode.

Despite the music being recorded live, which too often results in a close-up, one-dimensional sound, this one is excellent. It's moderately distanced, with a fine sense of space and place. Dynamics are wide but not overpowering; frequency response is extended, notably at the high end; the depth of image is lifelike; and detailing is realistically defined without being bright or edgy. Thankfully, too, Reference Recordings edited out any hint of applause. It's one of the best-sounding live orchestral discs of the year.

JJP

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