Beethoven: String Quartets, Op. 59 Nos. 1 & 2 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Chiaroscuro Quartet. BIS-2688

I’ve always been ambivalent about period instrument performances. At times they strike me as highly effective, as in John Eliot Gardiner’s Bach choral-orchestral works with the Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists. But probably more than half the time I remain unconvinced. “It’s a different sound,” defenders tell me, “more close to the original. More authentic. You just have to get used to it.” Maybe this is true in my case. But if so, I wonder when my full conversion will finally come. Because I’ve been listening to such performances, and their supporting arguments, for nearly 30 years now, and too many of them still strike me as noble attempts at best, or gimmickry at worst.  

 

I wouldn’t call the Chiaroscuro Quartet’s interpretations of the first two Razumovsky Quartets “gimmickry.” The group is far too tasteful and conscientious for that label. But I wouldn’t place them on the John Eliot Gardiner Bach level either. Mostly what we have here are terrific musicians who are hampered by their choice of inferior equipment for this specific repertoire. They bill themselves as an ensemble that plays on “gut strings and with historical bows.” But too often in this release I hear what could be solid performances bogged down by strings that sound shrill in robust passages, with a lack of resonance that leads to clipped or hurried execution in exposed phrases. I’m sorry, but I don’t value any supposedly “authentic” sound (I see you, Kerman, Taruskin, and others) enough to tolerate such trade-offs in two of my favorite string quartets. 

 

Let’s take these two renditions in turn. The first opens with a well-judged movement, hampered only by under-volumed solo passages (including the opening cello line) and a brittle sound in places. But the following scherzo is the recording’s low point. It’s not only the sound here that’s a problem, but also a few unfortunate interpretation choices. Some passages seem rushed, and when we should better hear the interplay of the main motive, we instead have too many microgestures and under-realized phrases. A sense of the epic that pervades Beethoven’s middle period definitely should be heard here; instead, the impression is one of stickiness. With the slow movement, we run into sound issues again. The playing itself is wonderful, but the timbre is tinny and strained when it should lend better to a smooth intimacy. It almost reminds me of the uncomfortable buzz that results when a manual transmission driver tries to go too fast in a lower gear. 

 

If the Chiaroscuros slip interpretively in a couple of Op. 59/1’s movements, they’re noticeably more consistent in its successor. But to be honest, this just makes me want to hear them use modern instruments all the more. Again we have a finely conceived first movement spoiled somewhat by the gut string timbres. The buzziness creeps in, especially with all of the accompaniment figures of second and third interval oscillations. The many long-held notes in the second movement come across much the same. Contrapuntal audibility again is not what it could be in the third movement, but the finale at least is nicely done, with its fleet tempo and character concealing some of these issues.  

 

For the sake of argument, let’s say these instruments really are close to what Beethoven heard: that doesn’t mean they’re preferable now. Maybe they weren’t even then. On multiple occasions he mourned the mismatch between his conceptions and the available tools. There is no doubt in my mind that he would have preferred modern strings here. Even if he wouldn’t have, I might still disagree with him. And this is where the period instrument arguments fall apart for me. Just because these might have been the tools Beethoven had doesn’t mean they’re the tools he wished for…or should have wished for. This is what I kept thinking about as I listened. We have competent, and at times even poignant accounts here. They’re just not entirely satisfying. A niche premise can’t ultimately stand in for the experience of the music. Modern equipment is simply more capable, and when the music in question demands more (in terms of heft, tone color, resonance, and versatility of sound – things Bach’s music doesn’t demand to the same extent), I naturally regret its absence. 

Recent Releases No. 80 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Víkingur Ólafsson: Opus 109. Bach: Prelude in E Major, BWV 854; Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 27 in E Minor, Op. 90; Bach: Partita No. 6 in E minor, BWV 830; Schubert: Piano Sonata in E minor, D566; Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 30 in E Major, Op. 109; Bach: French Suite No. 6 in E, BWV 817: Sarabande. Víkingur Ólafsson, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 486 7411

 

We have reviewed several previous releases from the Icelandic pianist Víkingur Ólafsson (b. 1984) here at Classical Candor, each of them having some sort of unusual twist that set it apart from the standard piano recording. On Bach: Works and Reworks (DG 4837769) we got not only a piano recital but the sound of the piano combined with other (often electronic) instruments; on Debussy-Rameau (DG 479 7701), the pianist explored connections between two composers separated by a century-and-a-half; his Philip Glass album (DG  479 6918) included an arrangement a piano etude for piano quintet; and his Reflections album (DG 00289 483 9222) was a reimagining of his Debussy-Rameau album, this time with Ólafsson on piano accompanied by other musicians (with some electronic manipulation of sonic textures). This latest release is a straightforward piano recital without any added instruments or electronic manipulation. The pianist includes a liner note essay in which he explains his somewhat unusual program, which he assembled for a combination of musical and personal reasons. Although the album is titled Opus 109, the Bach Partita No. 6 seems to come across as the centerpiece. Ólafsson plays lyrically and expressively throughout; if the idea of Bach, Schubert, and Beethoven played together on the same program is an appealing one, then Opus 109 is warmly recommended. 

 

Close. Steve Tibbetts: We Begin, Pt. 1; We Begin, Pt. 2; We Begin, Pt. 3; Away, Pt. 1; Away, Pt. 2; Away, Pt. 3; Remember, Pt. 1; Remember, Pt. 2; Somewhere, Pt. 1; Somewhere, Pt. 2; Somewhere, Pt. 3; Anywhere; Everywhere, Pt. 1; Everywhere, Pt. 2; Everywhere, Pt. 3; Everywhere, Pt. 4; Everywhere, Pt. 5; Remember and; Remember and Wish; We End. Steve Tibbetts, guitar, percussion, piano; Marc Anderson, percussion, gongs, handpan, loops; JT Bates, drums. ECM 2858

 

Wisconsin-born, Minnesota-based guitarist Steve Tibbetts (b. 1954) has been recording his imaginative music since the mid-1970s. He released his self-titled first album in 1976 on the tiny independent Frammis label, which was followed in 1980 by YR, also on Frammis. YR marked his first collaboration with percussionist Marc Anderson, a collaboration that continues to this day. In 1982, the pair spent three days in Oslo recording the album Northern Song for producer Manfred Eicher’s ECM label, the label for which Tibbetts has since recorded seven more albums. In 2022, we reviewed his ECM release titled Hellbound Train, a two-CD sampling of tracks from his first seven ECM releases. I felt certain that I must have reviewed his previous release, Life Of, but when I checked, I discovered that much to my surprise, that this May 2018 album had been released several months before I ever started writing for Classical Candor. (It turned out my first contribution was an October 2018 review of Walton’s Viola Concerto.) As on his previous album, Tibbetts here plays plenty of moody 12-string, but also does some plugging in. The presence of both percussionists provides a steady rumbling pulse throughout the album; the net effect being one of reflection and quiet mystery. The cover photo is of a backyard at night; the liner photo is the same backyard in daylight. The music on the disc falls somewhere between. “Music is a twilight language,” Tibbetts affirms. “The job is to translate some shadow into sound.” 

 

Transcription as Translation. Smetana: String Quartet No. 1 “From My Life” (orch. George Szell); Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 29, Op. 106 “Hammerklavier” (orch. Felix Weingartner). The Orchestra Now; Leon Botstein, conductor. AVIE AV2822

 

The late American conductor Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990) made a much-heralded recording of a transcription he made of Beethoven’s Op. 131 string quartet with the Vienna Philharmonic – but for strings only. When it comes to transcribing piano works for full orchestra, perhaps the most noteworthy example is Ravel’s transcription of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. On this release from AVIE, we get two transcriptions for orchestra made by orchestral conductors. The first, by George Szell, takes Smetana’s String Quartet No. 1 from an intimate piece of chamber music and makes it into something of an orchestral showpiece. According to the liner notes, Szell made his arrangement in 1939-40, soon after his arrival in the United States, and conducted it at his debut with the orchestra in 1944 and several times thereafter. It’s a pleasant enough listening experience, if not particularly memorable. Fans of the Smetana quartet may find this performance of interest to gain some additional insight. The Weingartner transcription of the “Hammerklavier,” on the other hand, comes across as less successful. The music never seems to catch fire; something seems to have been lost in translation. To be fair to Maestro Botstein and the orchestra, however, the original sonata is a daunting challenge for even the finest of pianists, so to expect an orchestral transcription to succeed in captivating an audience is – to be candid – in all likelihood an exercise in wishful thinking.

Bill Heck's Favorites of 2025

Readers who have been with us for all of 2025 may have noticed that my contributions this year were pretty skimpy. (Then again, they are free, so….) Fortunately, most that I did review ranged from very good to really excellent. But the ones that I have chosen to mention here are special in different ways, not necessarily being the “greatest” of the year, but rather ones that were particularly welcome for one reason or another.

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

If you missed my review, you might still think that “nocturnes” became a thing only when Chopin came along. Well, he didn’t invent them: if anyone deserves the title of “inventor”, it was John Field. And although Chopin’s works of that name do, with some justification, overshadow Field’s earlier efforts, the latter’s works are certainly worthy of attention in their own right. These days, I truly welcome hearing less familiar but still musically rewarding works. Alice Sara Ott gives us excellent performances and the DG engineers provide excellent sound, making this one of favorites of the year. 

 

 

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Platero y Yo, Op 190. Niklas Johansen, guitar. OUR Recordings 8.226930-31

Here’s another great release of lesser known but very rewarding works, making this another of my favorites for the year. This time the music is a series of what I referred to as mini- tone poems for guitar – I don’t suppose that’s a great way to refer to them, but I don’t know what else to call them, other than beautiful pieces that you really should hear. Again, great performances in great sound. But in addition, those who invest in the CDs get lovely (and practical!) packaging and a wonderful 72-page booklet. It’s the whole package, and it is truly worth seeking out.

 

 

Beethoven: Symphonies 1 – 9 and Overtures. George Szell, Cleveland Orchestra. Sony Classical  

Yeah, I know: citing a set of recordings made back in the 1960s is quite a stretch for a 2025 favorite. But the key here is that you can now find all of the symphonies (and various overtures), in versions remastered in 2018, as one set. The remastered thing is a big deal, as the old Columbia recordings were, to put it euphemistically, less than ideal. The remasterings are very good indeed, allowing us to hear truly classic performances of these favorite works in not just acceptable but even enjoyable sound. Be aware that these recordings were packaged and repackaged in incredibly confusing varieties, and even now finding this latest set is not the easiest. (You will search in vain for it on Sony's own classical music website. How is that even possible?) It’s worth the effort, though, to hear these performances in much-improved sound.

Anna Clyne: Abstractions. Naxos 8.574620

This one is cheating, I suppose, as it was reviewed by my colleague Karl Nehring, and indeed appears on his Favorites of 2025 list. (See his Favorites article for complete album information.) But I can’t resist mentioning it here as well: as much as I’ve been a fan of Anna Clyne’s work, I found her most recent work not quite as appealing as I had expected: not bad, but not quite as interesting, at least to my ears, as some of her other compositions. This release, though, goes right to my own favorites list. In particular, I’ve been waiting for a proper recording of Within Her Arms for ages; this recording is as moving as the performance that I first heard live so long ago.

Rendezvous: Jazz Meet Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, & More (Streaming Review)

by Karl Nehring

Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 / Piano Sonata “Moonlight”;Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker - Dance of the Reed Flutes; Beethoven: Sonata No. 8 “Pathétique” 2nd Movement; Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake; Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet - Dance of the Knights; Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition - The Old Castle; Prokofiev: Piano Concerto #2; Ravel: Pavane Pour Une Infante Defunte. Jo-Yu Chen, piano; Chris Tordini, bass; Tommy Crane, drums. Sony Music Taiwan: Digital, G010005486913X; Vinyl, 19802883371 (available on Spotify and Bandcamp). The album is available to stream on Apple Music as lossless 16-bit/44.1 kHz. Also available on Qobuz for streaming and download purchase at the same resolution. (Not available on CD.)

As a young child in Taiwan, Jo-Yu Chen began piano lessons at the age of five and added oboe lessons at the age of nine. At the age of 16, she moved from her native Taiwan to the United States to train at Juilliard on both piano and oboe. Her background was in classical music, but she soon but was developed a passion for jazz and began studying jazz piano under the tutelage of jazz keyboard master Sam Yahel. She also completed a Ph.D. in Music Education from Columbia University. Her musical talents were recognized and she was signed by Sony, for whom with her bandmates listed above plus some guest jazz luminaries featured on some tracks she released her first four albums: Obsession (with drummer Tyshawn Sorey, 2011), Incomplete Soul (2012), Stranger (with guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel, 2014) and Savage Beauty (with saxophonist Mark Turner, 2019), all of which featured her own compositions. In 2024 she returned to her love for the classical canon with an EP titled Schubert & Mozart: 'Round Midnight, which featured her trio playing her jazz takes on themes from selections by those Viennese masters. It’s quite a different approach than you might expect; not just a “jazzy gloss” on classical melodies, but an exuberant 21 minutes of jazz based on a serious reimagining of those melodies. Think Schubert meets Brubeck – but that’s just a starting point. And really, truly, what she and her bandmates create on that EP sounds totally original; again, not just a jazzy gloss on classical melodies, but music that sounds delightfully fresh and original.

 

About her new album, Chen observes, “this recording project started somewhat by accident. I've always been hesitant about making a cross-genre album unless it felt truly special. Coming from a classical background, I approach reinterpreting classical works more cautiously than composing my own. The classical world guards its history and masterpieces fiercely, and that pressure feels heavier than creating something new. So I thought, if I'm going to do this, it has to have depth, beauty, and lasting power. When I first started on this album, I was constantly drawn to Beethoven-his music, creativity, and rebellious spirit. He wasn't just a composer; he was a trailblazer, a rock star of his time who transcended his era, bridging the Classical and Romantic periods with boldness and vision. Beethoven's pioneering spirit of innovation and his strong sense of aesthetics are precisely what I want to channel into the next chapter of my musical journey. Looking back, this album is my response to my previous EP, Schubert and Mozart.

I’ll have to admit that what I expected to hear when I auditioned this album for the first time was simply a jazz gloss on familiar themes. I was more than pleasantly surprised to find out how wrong I was when I discovered from the very first measures of the opening track, Symphony No. 5 / Piano Sonata “Moonlight,” that Chen, Tordini, and Crane were not glossing; rather, they were taking musical ideas from Beethoven (and Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev, and others) and reshaping them into entertaining, bracing jazz cuts. Furthermore, the trio plays as a trio, with all three members making solid contributions – it’s not just Chen’s piano in the lead with bass and drums keeping time.

 

This truly is a release that should prove rewarding to jazz and classical fans alike. My only reservation is its relatively short duration, just under 39 minutes, which I suppose makes sense when you think of it as a vinyl LP release, which is apparently how Sony Music Taiwan views it. What I would love to see happen would be for Sony to combine Rendezvous with Chen’s previous Schubert & Mozart EP into one hour-long release that they could then market not only as a digital release (download and streaming) but also as a CD. In any event, I highly recommend that both jazz and classical music lovers would do well to arrange a Rendezvous.

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.

Ludwig van Beethoven: The Piano Concertos (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

(CD 1) Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, op. 19; No. 1 in C major, op. 15; (CD 2) No. 3 in c minor, op. 37; No. 4 in G major, op. 58; (CD 3) No. 5 in E-flat major, op. 73. Alexander Lonquich, piano; Münchener Kammerorchester. ECM New Series 2753-55 

I have occasionally noted in previous reviews how exciting and rewarding it is to listen to enjoyable music by a composer completely unknown to me. To discover such “hidden treasure” and then be able to pass along a recommendation to others brings me great joy. In the case of this release, neither the composer nor the music is unknown to me – nor to the overwhelming majority of those music fans reading this – so what about this release is completely unknown? It’s the performer, the German pianist and conductor Alexander Lonquich (b. 1960), who for these performances conducts the Munich Chamber Orchestra from the keyboard. For the enclosed booklet, he also contributes a thoughtful essay that offers insights about each of the concertos, noting, for example some of the Mozartean influences on the first three, and how Beethoven, dissatisfied with his first effort at composing a concerto for piano, had it published second -- which is why Lonquich has chosen to preserve true chronological order in this set by placing No. 2 before No. 1.

 

The performances in this box set are from 2022. Giving backgound, however, Lonquich writes, "for years, I have repeatedly had the pleasure of realizing Beethoven projects with the Munich Chamber Orchestra until finally the time came to perform the entire cycle of Beethoven’s completed piano concertos on a single evening in autumn 2019. The resulting, very special experience, for performers and listeners alike, is reflected in these recordings. The usually common placement of the individual works in the context of a symphony concert all too often runs the risk of reinforcing what is already traditional, while this chronological order draws attention to stylistic leaps in in the compositions and allows the listener to experience Beethoven’s development as the author of these outward-looking creations that illustrate his pianistic virtuosity between 1790 and 1809… It was and is our incentive, also in the present recordings, to collectively trace Beethoven’s long developmental process step by step and to allow such an experience to merge into a convincing overall dramaturgy. The joy of being able to expose ourselves again and again to the presence and presentness of this music is immeasurable.”

It's an interesting set that offers a unique perspective on Beethoven’s art. The smaller forces involved, combined with the rather distant recording perspective, draw the listener into the softer passages rather than place an emphasis on the louder passages. The overall effect is that of a more personal, intimate listening experience. This is not just another routine run-through of these familiar works, and for that reason, it is well worth an audition.

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

 by Karl Nehring

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

 

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

 

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

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

George Szell Conducts Beethoven Symphonies and Overtures (Remastered)

by Bill Heck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Beethoven Odyssey, Volume 9

by Bill Heck

Beethoven: Piano Sonatas 28, 29. James Brawn, piano. MSR Classics MS 1473

I had mixed feelings as I started listening to this, the last volume in James Brawn’s traversal of Beethoven’s piano sonatas. Not mixed feelings about the performances: see below for more on that front. No, it was just that we have reached the end of this excellent cycle. Those who have seen reviews of several earlier volumes by our colleague JJP and me will recall that we were, to say the least, favorably impressed. Naturally I was eager to hear the latest. But it was a bit like opening that last present at the birthday party when I was a little kid: the cycle is complete; there’s nothing to anticipate, no wonderful surprises to look forward to. 

Those who have followed this cycle know that these volumes have not comprised a cycle in the common sense of starting with Number 1 and counting up; instead, the volumes have been a series of programs, each consisting of two or three sonatas chosen for musical reasons. This final volume does include two consecutive sonatas, though, and the two present both similarities and interesting contrasts.

No. 28 usually is considered the first of Beethoven’s “late period” sonatas; I had not heard it in some time, so it was fun to be reacquainted. To me, the first movement sounds improvisatory, bringing to mind a pianist jamming, playing with a series of themes and riffs – although in this case, the jam is at an otherworldly musical level. (Readers who are taken aback at such a comparison should feel free to dismiss this as crazy rambling.) It is astonishing to realize that Beethoven was composing things like this despite his near-total deafness. More generally, this work, as the excellent booklet points out, looks back to earlier sonatas in terms of structure, but a few moments listening reassures us that Beethoven is probing more deeply, is experimenting more freely than in those previous works. At the same time, the mood here is fresh and light in what is a rather short sonata (Brawn completes it in just over 20 minutes). Perhaps the most likely listener reaction to this work is simple joy.

No. 29 (Hammerklavier) is harder to categorize. Beethoven seems to throw in everything, and the technical demands on the pianist are outrageous:  the work not only may be the most difficult of Beethoven’s piano compositions but is one of the more difficult by any composer. Moreover, this is a huge, sprawling work; Brawn’s timing here is about 48 minutes.

I mentioned earlier the favorable reception of previous volumes in this series by JJP and me, so it will come as no surprise that I am more than satisfied with this one as well. Indeed, this review can be relatively brief because most of what I could say would simply repeat positive comments that I’ve made earlier. As in the previous volumes in the series, there is a certain rightness about Brawn’s playing: upon listening, one is left with a feeling that yes, of course, that’s exactly the way it should be done. It’s always possible to hear what’s going on: Brawn eschews excessive use of the sustain pedal, his articulation is clear without being so ostentatious as to distract from the music. I don’t mean to say that the performances are without character; rather, in each case, the “character” seems to fit well with the work being performed. 

Beethoven in later life

And I certainly don’t mean to say that Brawn, or anyone else, plays any of the sonatas, particularly the late ones and even more particularly the Hammerklavier, in the only possible way. As just one example, a point that struck me upon listening was the range of possible approaches in the fourth and final movement of the Hammerklavier. In the central section of this movement, the titanic fugue, it strikes me that Brawn focuses on clarifying inner details of the intertwining voices. Contrast this with, say, the early 1950’s recording by Rudolph Serkin (which miraculously still sounds quite good), with its stricter adherence to, and even emphasis on, an almost metronomic tempo. Again, I don’t mean that one fails to play in tempo or the other obscures the notes, just that one performance can’t do everything, especially is such a formidable work as this. Which is “correct”, which is “better”? Obviously neither, they are simply different, and both are the products of deep insight (and undoubtedly of incredibly difficult work during practice sessions).

Given the number of Beethoven sonata cycles out there, it would be silly to proclaim one “the best” or to suppose that one set of interpretation has said everything that there is to say in such musically rich works. But Brawn’s entire odyssey is one to which I shall return often.

As usual in this series, the recorded sound is excellent, with the rich tones of the Steinway D presented in all their glory. As the booklet notes, Beethoven “…often complained about the limitations of the piano, proclaiming…’It is and remains an inadequate instrument’”. Not to denigrate the often insightful recordings relying on “original instruments” or copies thereof, but I can’t help wondering what Beethoven would have thought of the contemporary use of period instruments to allow us to hear that with which he was so dissatisfied. At least in this case, I have to think that Beethoven would have approved of the newer instrument.

In summary, if you’re not familiar with Brawn’s Beethoven Odyssey, now would be a good time to check it out. Start anywhere and enjoy some fine performances of this wondrous music. Oh, and that business that I mentioned earlier about nothing to look forward to? Brawn’s Facebook postings indicate that, for now, after twelve years of work on this project, he wants to spend more time on performance and music education (one of his great passions). That’s understandable. But I hope that we’ll see something new in the way of recordings in the not too distant future.

Pastoral 21: Gabriel Prokofiev, Ludwig van Beethoven (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 in F major, Op. 68 “Pastoral” (1^st Movement, arr. for string sextet by M. G. Fischer); Gabriel Prokofiev: Breaking Screens – Green Into Red | Fivatak | 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | ChangeUp | Sad Colours 1 | Memory Fields | Reflessivo; Beethoven: Symphony No.6 (5^th Movement arr. for string sextet by M. G. Fischer); G. Prokofiev: Pastoral Reflections - I. Allegro ma non troppo (escape into nature) II. Andante con moto (nature reserve with canalised stream) III. Allegro Mechanico (Mega-farm, cyber village) IV. Vivace (Sturm) V. Allegretto (Stadtpark, faint hopes); Breaking Screens – Mobocracy. Gabriel Prokofiev, synthesizers, electronics; UNLTD Collective (Songha Choi, violin; Çiğdem Tunçelli Sinangil, violin; Martin Moriarty, viola; Kinga Wojdolska, viola; Alfredo Ferre, cello; Antonin Musset, cello). Signum Classics SIGCD761

 

The British composer, producer, and DJ Gabriel Prokofiev (b. 1975) was born in London to an English mother and Russian father. (And yes, in case you were wondering, he is related to the famous Sergei: Gabriel is in fact Sergei’s grandson.) After completing his musical studies at Birmingham and York Universities, he grew increasingly dissatisfied with what seemed to him to be the insular world of contemporary classical music. In response, he developed his own parallel musical career as a dance, grime, electro, and hip-hop producer. This background in dance music combined with his classical roots gives his music a unique and strikingly contemporary sound. He has built up a growing body of orchestral and chamber works and has composed seven concertos (three featuring turntables), as well as many electronic works, often combining synthesizers and samples with classical instrumentation. We’ve reviewed some of his compositions previously here at Classical Candor, including one of his turntable concertos (you can read that review here), a “symphonic remix” of the finale of Beethoven’s 9^th(review can be found here), and most recently, a composition of his was included on an album by viola player Hiyoli Togawa (review here). Looking back over those releases, we see a composer adept at writing for both electronic and traditional instruments, capable of blending them together or deploying them separately in service of his musical vision.

In this newest release, we hear both the traditional classical sound and contemporary electronic elaborations centering around Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony. Prokofiev remarks in the CD booklet that “today, the concept of ‘pastoral’ is bittersweet. We can still experience the beauty of nature, but the traces of humanity and industry are always present, and the spectre of the ever-increasing climate crisis is looming.” The most straightforward, traditional presentation of the symphony – “the beauty of nature” – is provided in its arrangement for string sextet, with its opening and closing movements represented in fine, flowing performances by the UNLTD Collective. Between these two straightforward interpretations of Beethoven’s familiar music are inserted five relatively short movements of Prokofiev’s Breaking Screens, music that is intended to transport the listener away from Beethoven’s countryside into the 21^st century, where, as Prokofiev maintains, “we spend more time looking at screens than the real world.” Although that description might sound a bit abstract – even daunting – the music is an imaginative blend of acoustic and electronic sounds. (There is plenty of bass energy in screen world, apparently, which makes it a fun place to visit for those listeners with whomping woofers…)

Prokofiev considers his composition Pastoral Reflections to be "a direct response to the Pastoral Symphony, which explores what the concept of ‘Pastoral’ means to us today in this time of climate crisis… Imagine if Beethoven came back to the same locations outside Vienna in the 21^st century… Though he would still find some beautiful scenes of nature, he would certainly be shocked by the omnipresence of modern industrial life: The inescapable background noise of motorways, aeroplanes overhead, insistent signs of human presence in plastic waste, metal fences, concrete-bordered streams, tarmac roads… For Pastoral Reflections I decided to follow most of the tempi of Beethoven’s original, and focus on the same themes for each movement, but with a contemporary view. In addition to the string sextet I have used field recordings that illustrate humankind’s omnipresence.” Although this description might sound daunting to some potential listeners, the music is not nearly as cacophonous as Prokofiev’s provocative prose might make it out to be. For the most part, it is the sound of the string sextet that leads out; the electronic element is there – at times quite noticeably, as intended – but never overbearingly so. No, this may not be a work from which the most staunchly conservative of Beethoven fans will take pleasure, but most listeners should at least find it interesting, and some might even find it quite fascinating. 

For whatever reason, the album then concludes with Mobocracy, a brash and bouncy two-and-one-half minutes of primarily synthesized music – the final movement of Breaking Screens. Although Prokofiev discusses all the other music on the program in the CD booklet, he makes no mention of this one. Strange, maybe even a bit ominous… Overall, though, Pastoral 21 is a refreshingly different release that casts a musical gaze upon on past, present, and future.

Recent Releases No. 70 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Haydn: 48 Piano Sonatas. Daniel-Ben Pienaar, piano. AVIE AV257

In yet another project undertaken in the dark days of the COVID-19 pandemic, South African pianist Daniel-Ban Pienaar has produced this imposing box set containing eight compact discs on which he has recorded as the cover declares “the 39 authenticated multi-movement solo keyboard works from 1765 onwards and nine earlier works presumed to be Haydn’s, or probably his, by the vast majority of scholars.” These works include: Four early Sonatas (listed in Haydn’s Entwurf-Katalog of 1765); Six Sonatas (1765-1772); Six Sonatas dedicated to Prince Nicolas Esterházy (c. 1773, published in 1774); Six Sonatas (1774-?76); Six Sonata dedicated to Katharina and Marianna Auenbrugger (published in 1880); Three Sonatas (published in London in 1783); Three Sonatas for Princess Maria Esterházy (published in 1784); Two Sonatas (1789-90); Three English Sonatas (1794-95); plus Variations in F minor (1793) and nine early Sonatas widely presumed to be by Haydn. Pienaar’s liner notes go into great detail about the difficulty of making a “definitive cycle” of Haydn’s works for piano owing to questions of authenticity. He also offers some remarks concerning how to approach performing these works today.

 I was surprised to discover in the liner note credits that for this release Pienaar had done his own recording and editing. Above the list of credits here is a photo of his piano with the following caption: “The Angela Burgess Recital Hall at the Royal Academy of Music, London. The recording took place in a series of overnight sessions in late 2020, with no engineer or producer present. A single pair of suspended omni-directional microphones was used.” Pienaar is on the faculty at the Royal Academy of Music, which gave him easy access to this recording venue and the associated equipment; still, it is unusual for an artist to record without the assistance of an engineer or producer.  

There is a helpfully informative article by Pienaar in the November 14, 2023, issue of the International Piano Newsletter in which the pianist discusses this recording in considerable detail; I recommend it highly. As with the liner notes, he discusses the difficulties involved in putting together the set of sonatas to record and his approach to performing them. But as something of a hopeless old boomer audiophile, I could not help but be particularly fascinated by Pienaar’s account of the recording process: 

 

“I started recording at the end of the summer, at the Royal Academy of Music in London. The Academy’s Angela Burgess Recital Hall is fitted with a single pair of omnidirectional mics that are pretty good – so I just positioned the piano in the best way I could and played and played, without an engineer or producer. I got permission to access the building overnight, and I tended to work on Saturday nights. I would record about one CD’s worth of music on each of these nights, spending altogether eight nights between September and December. It then took me about five weeks to choose takes and edit everything (I always edit my own work). It was especially important for me that everything should remain ‘fresh’ and that I should capture a feeling of making music for myself, allowing myself to be surprised by Haydn’s music, and exploring in the way I do every day at the piano – thus working in an intimate hall, on my own, and using the simplest means of recording… Every album of mine has been a kind of experiment in avoiding the glossiness that seems almost de rigueur nowadays when it comes to recorded sound. The question to ask is: what are we trying to achieve with recorded sound? Are we just evoking a space? As a listener I don’t really want to be transported to an empty concert hall. And it is important to engage the imagination of the listener – does the recorded sound allow that to happen? It feels to me that the mind is better at filling in some ‘gaps’ in audio information than subtracting it in the case of unrealistic, excessive amounts of resolution and detail.”

 

The sound quality is quite satisfying. The first noticeable quality is that there seems to be just the right amount of distance between the microphones/our ears and the piano. This is not one of those piano recordings where we hear every little click of the keys or creak of the piano bench. On the other hand, it is also not one of those recordings with an abundance of ambient background room or hall sound. At the same time, the sound is full-bodied and dynamic, sounding very much like a piano. 

 

Later in this same article, Pienaar goes on to comment about the music, using a term that I found surprising: “The combination of elements in Haydn’s music strikes me, perhaps more than anything, as rather mysterious. There is something one can’t quite put one’s finger on which makes it beautiful in a special way – very different from the totally disarming sensuality and emotion of Mozart.” It’s the word “mysterious” that caught me off-guard, for it is not the word that I would think of to describe this music, which sounds to my ears as something of a mixture of Bach and Mozart, but leaning more to the latter than the former. But I am not a pianist, nor a musician. I have no adequate words to describe Haydn’s keyboard music, other than to say I find it spirited and enjoyable. Pienaar is certainly WAY more qualified than I to describe this music; upon reflection, I find his use of the term “mysterious” stimulating and delightful.

 

Those same terms – “stimulating” and “delightful” – are also apt descriptions of this boxed set as a whole. There is much delight to be discovered in the piano music of Haydn, and this set offers the music lover a way to sit back and dig in. Whether one might want to methodically work their way through the whole set from start to finish or instead randomly listen to a few selections here and there while perusing the CD booklet for background information, this release offers those opportunities in a package of excellent quality. 

 

The Complete Beethoven Piano Concertos. (CD1) Piano Concerto No. 1 in C Major, Op. 15; No. 2 in B-flat Major, Op. 19; (CD2) No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37; No. 4 in G Major, Op. 58; (CD3) No. 5 in E-flat Major, Op. 58; Overture to The Creatures of Prometheus, Op. 43. Garrick Ohlsson, piano; Grand Teton Music Festival Orchestra; Sir Donald Runnicles, conductor. Reference Recordings FR-751SACD

 

I must preface this review by shamefacedly admitting that it is inexcusably late in seeing the light of day. Poor Garrick Ohlsson, Sir Donald Runnicles, and the entire Grand Teton Music Festival Orchestra (or, more precisely, this particular copy of their Beethoven concertos recording) somehow managed to disappear in my listening room for a period of many months, cleverly evading my determined search. Happily enough, though, I finally came upon it – pretty much by accident, of course – and am finally able to pass along the recommendation that I should by all rights have passed along many months ago. In the CD booklet, pianist Garrick Ohlsson (b. 1948) remarks that over the course of his long career he has performed each of the Beethoven concertos more than 100 times and that he was excited to have the opportunity to collaborate with Sir Donald Runnicles to record these works over the span of a week of concert performances in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The CD booklet includes an essay by producer Vic Muenzer in which he goes into a fair amount of detail about the recording process in some detail.

 

The end result is set of Beethoven concertos that is warm and comfortable both in sound and performance. This is not the lean and swift sort of Beethoven playing that we have come to hear more often owing to the many “historically informed performance” and/or “original instruments” Beethoven recordings in the marketplace. Ohlsson’s playing on his Steinway sounds rich and expressive, and the sound quality is on the warm and full side. It just all sounds, well, comfortable – and quite enjoyable for all that. My favorite sets of Beethoven piano concertos have been Fleisher/Szell/Cleveland and Bronfman/Zinman/Tonhalle Zurich. This new release from Reference Recordings supplants neither of those, but it is still worthy of consideration by those looking for an entertaining and rewarding set of the Beethoven piano concertos. It's a first-class set both musically and sonically.