Brahms: Symphonies Nos. 2 & 4 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Brahms: Symphony No. 2 in D, Op. 73; Symphony No. 4 in E Minor, Op. 98. Edward Gardner, conductor; Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra. Chandos CHSA5248

 

The myth that Brahms’s Second Symphony is “pastoral” took hold quickly and has persisted with stubborn tenacity. In 1943, Olin Downes was still comparing it to Beethoven’s Sixth and praising its supposed “vernal loveliness” (see his note on the work in Elie Siegmeister’s The Music Lover’s Handbook). Perhaps for this reason, not a few recorded performances positively drag the first movement’s Allegro non troppo. Like Han Solo jettisoning his cargo at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser, some conductors see this marking and abandon the Allegro. (Claudio Abbado’s metronome marking of approximately quarter note = 108 in his 1988 recording with the Berlin Philharmonic is one example. See DG 427 643‑2.) In truth, this tendency afflicts many performances of other works — don’t get me started on Sibelius 3. Happily, Edward Gardner and the Bergen Philharmonic proceed pace-wise on the right foot, and it’s just one of many things that go absolutely right in their splendid account.

Indeed, I feel that the other successful elements of this performance naturally flow from the crucial decision to move things along. When the tempo lags in other interpretations, dynamics and articulation often stand out in negative ways. For example, take the robust dotted-rhythm theme beginning at Rehearsal E in the first movement. A sluggish beat often leads to those rhythms sounding labored (as in Giulini’s tedious slog with the Vienna Philharmonic — DG 435 348-2.) Gardner and Company dispatch them with even precision, maintaining a necessary momentum. In the second movement we have more good things happening downstream from a firm tempo. The bright sound here lends to a sense of vigor blended with gravitas. No section gets bogged down by trying too hard to be “deep.” Likewise, a crisp, brisk third movement showcases the span’s intricate detail while providing attractive flair. The finale keeps up the strong balance of the previous three: the rousing nature of the music feels robust without being oppressive. (One so often experiences the opposite in other recordings.) Everything is wonderfully thought-out and controlled. This is one of the best Brahms 2’s I have ever heard.

If I question the myth of Brahms’s Second being “pastoral,” I cannot deny that it is a very different work from its youngest brother. Gardner and his musicians do bring off a decent enough Fourth. But their struggle to adjust to its different complexion results in an effort inferior to that described above. A solid momentum, crisp articulation, and bright sound are not enough for this symphonic swan song. At times they can even be misplaced. An emotional fullness that can easily overburden the Second should be a consistent ingredient for the wistful, decidedly weightier Fourth. As I suggested in another review of Gardner, this is precisely the area in which he tends to under-impress. 

Put simply, this Brahms Fourth is polished but too detached…even genteel. Almost throughout the sound feels slight. Straightaway in the first movement we need bolder colors. Gardner supplies sleek precision in spades, but he fails to deliver the force of personality that define the best readings I have heard (for example, Klemperer/Philharmonia, Kleiber/Vienna Philharmonic, and even Karajan/Berlin Philharmonic). The dynamic punch especially is always withheld. The second movement is perhaps this account’s high point. Even if the atmosphere is still not quite magical, Gardner does implement some better sound contrasts and hues, perhaps helped by the slower tempo direction. But the back half again consistently leaves me wanting more. The Allegro giocoso third movement begins with a spirited romp that should positively clobber (or even “Kleiber”) the listener upside the head with its initial tandem of short themes. We absolutely need the Brahms of the Academic Festival Overture’s drinking songs here. Gardner does not quite oblige. As if to compound this, the contrasting theme at Rehearsal A is too delicate. It should be softer, yes, but not quite this “pretty.” Much the same could be said for large stretches of the finale. Too much sounds almost routine, with important themes and gestures (such as the ben marcato largamente material starting at measure 33) not “played into” enough. A stiff upper lip doesn’t get the job done in Brahms 4.

I would give this recording a mild recommendation if both performances were at the level of its Brahms 4. Second-tier respectability is better than much that I’ve heard. But to say that purchasing it for the Brahms 2 alone is an easy choice would be an understatement. Gardner and the Bergen Philharmonic not only keep the interpretive quality up for every one of its movements (not something to take lightly), but they have the measure of the whole in a way equaling the catalogue’s finest. It’s not overselling things to call this a contemporary classic.

Recent Releases No. 79 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

B.A.C.H. Martin Fröst. J.S. Bach: Goldberg Variations, BWV 988: Aria (Arr. for Clarinet and Bass by Martin Fröst and Sebastien Dubé); Sinfonia in G Major, BWV 796 (Arr. for Clarinet and Cello by Matthias Spindler); Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, BWV 639 (Arr. for Clarinet and Theorbo by Martin Fröst and Jonas Nordberg); St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244: No. 62. "Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden" (Arr. for Clarinets and Cello by Martin Fröst); Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D Major, BWV 1068: II. Air (Arr. for Clarinet, Theorbo and Bass by Martin Fröst, Jonas Nordberg and Sebastien Dubé); Invention No.10 in G Major, BWV 781 (Arr. for Clarinet and Viola by Göran Fröst); French Suite No.5 in G Major, BWV 816: III. Sarabande (Arr. for Clarinet and Theorbo by Martin Fröst and Jonas Nordberg); Sonata for Viola da Gamba in D Major, BWV 1028: I. Adagio (Arr. for Clarinet, Cello, and Bass by Martin Fröst, Anastasia Kobekina and Sebastien Dubé); Pastorale in F Major, BWV 590: III. Aria (Arr. for Clarinet and Theorbo by Martin Fröst and Jonas Nordberg); Invention No.4 in D Minor, BWV 775 (Arr. for Clarinet and Cello by Matthias Spindler); French Suite No.5 in G Major, BWV 816: I. Allemande (Arr. for Clarinet and Theorbo by Martin Fröst and Jonas Nordberg); Prelude in D Minor, BWV 851 (Arr. for Clarinet and Bass by Martin Fröst and Sebastien Dubé); Gounod: Ave Maria (Meditation on the Prelude by J. S. Bach) [Arr. for Clarinet and Cello by Martin Fröst]; Bach: Herr Jesu Christ, meins Lebens Licht, BWV 335 (Arr. for Clarinet and Theorbo by Martin Fröst and Jonas Nordberg); Invention No. 6 in E Major, BWV 777 (Arr. for Clarinet and Viola by Göran Fröst); Prelude in C-Sharp Major, BWV 872 (Arr. for Clarinet, Theorbo and Bass by Martin Fröst, Jonas Nordberg and Sebastien Dubé); Largo (after Piano Concerto No. 5 in F Minor, BWV 1056) [Arr. for Clarinet and Piano by Martin Fröst and Benny Andersson]. Martin Fröst, Clarinet; Jonas Nordberg, theorbo; Anastasia Kobekina, cello; Sébastian Dubé, double bass; Göran Fröst, viola; Benny Andersson, piano. Sony Classical 19802814742

 

As Ry Cooder almost once sang, oooohhh, I’m a fool for a clarinet. Back in the day, one of my musical heroes was fellow Ohio State grad Richard Stoltzman (double major: music and mathematics), a true master of the instrument who made remarkable recordings in a variety of genres. Today, Swedish clarinetist Martin Fröst is making a name for himself as a master of the instrument, and like Stoltzman, Fröst is willing to explore innovative ways to showcase his musical abilities. Back in 2022, we reviewed an album by Fröst in which he explored music from a diverse group of composers ranging over such figures as Bach, Scarlatti, Purcell, Rameau, Richard Rogers, Gordon Jenkins, and Chick Corea (you can read that review here).  In past concert performances, Fröst sometimes devised programs titled "Beyond All Clarinet History" (B.A.C.H.), which intertwined some Bach’s melodies with new arrangements; what we have here is an entire album – appropriately titled “B.A.C.H.” – entirely devoted to the music of Bach, but presented in new interpretations both for clarinet and a variety of other instruments, such as bass, cello, and theorbo (for those unfamiliar with that instrument, imagine a lute on steroids), and on the final track, a piano – played by Benny Andersson of the world-famous pop group ABBA. Although Bach never wrote for the clarinet, nothing here sounds forced or gimmicky. Recorded in an old wooden chapel set in the Swedish countryside that Fröst purchased, restored, and turned into a studio and concert venue, the album has a warm, intimate sonic quality that is well-suited to Bach’s music. You don’t need to be a fool for a clarinet to enjoy this album, but you might become one after giving it a listen. This is a recording that should appeal to a wide variety of musical tastes.

Brahms, Balkans & Bagels. Paquin-Bugi: Mahler Goes Meshuge; Traditional: Kolomeyka; Paquin-Buki and Paquin / Brahms: Élégie des vieux amants; Saint-Saëns: Balkanale; Svigals: Glazier's Hora;  Traditional: Beresh Katz Bulgar; Liszt: Rhapsodie hongroise no 2; Pigeon: Trumpet Doina, wie aus der ferne; Traditional: Der yidisher soldat in di trenches (WWI); Traditional: Reel de Béatrice; Kodály: Kállai kettõs; I. Weber: Wiegala. Oktopus (Matthieu Bourget, bass trombone; Guillaume Martineau, piano; Gabriel Paquin-Buki, clarinet; Maxime Philippe, drums and percussion; Francis Pigeon, trumpet; Julie Blanchet, flute; Noémie Caron-Marcotte, flute; Laetitia Francoz-Lévesque; Simon Jolicoeur, trombone; Kalun Leung, trombone; Julie Rivest, violin) with guest musicians Éric Breton, percussion; Catherine Chabot, flute; Corine Chartré-Lefebvre, horn; Pascal Demalsy, accordion; Janna Kate, vocals; Charles-André Labelle-Giroux, tuba; Emie Rioux-Roussel, piano; Rosanne Philippens, violin.

 

This delightful album should bring many a smile to those listeners with a deep affection for classical music; it may even have some of them leaping from their listening positions and whirling about the room in half-crazed dances of delight; I foresee broken furniture – but pray for no broken bones.  In Brahms, Balkans & Bagels, the Canadian octet Oktopus digs into the question of how popular music may have inspired great composers. The opening track is a perfect example, highlighting the influence of klezmer music on Gustav Mahler. Mahler fans will certainly be able to recognize the themes and enjoy the energetic interweaving of Mahler and madcap. Another highlight is their arrangement of Franz Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, which highlights above all the impressive talent of pianist Guillaume Martineau, who improvises a virtuosic cadenza before the group ends the piece with a klezmeresque flourish. It’s an album full of delights and surprises; moreover, what is especially rewarding is that the overall tone is one of joy and respect for classical music – the musicians of Oktopus are not mocking the music of the great composers, they are reveling in it and inviting you to join them in their revels. My goodness, this is a fun 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

 

Here we have the most recent release from the veteran American jazz pianist Fred Hersch (b. 1955). Hersch’s story is an inspiring one, for he has come back from the brink of death to regain his ability to play the piano and resume his life and career, as you can you can learn more  about from the pianist himself in from this compelling YouTube video  We have previously reviewed a couple of albums by Hersch, beginning with an album that Hersch recorded in his home during the dark early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. That album was recorded on a less than ideal piano in a less than ideal (at least in terms of recording acoustics) room; however, Hersch’s talent and love for the music made his 2021 release Songs from Home (Palmetto PM2197) a winning collection of tunes that is well worth a listen (you can find our review here). Then in 2024 and we reviewed a his Silent, Listening release on the ECM label, this one recorded under much different and more advantageous circumstances, playing a beautifully tuned piano in an acoustically perfect European hall under the watchful eyes and ears of a world-class producer and engineer (you can find that review here). And a decade before we ever reviewed an album recorded by Fred Hersch himself, our founding father John Puccio reviewed an album recorded by the classical pianist Lara Downes titled 13 Ways of Looking at the Goldberg: Bach Reimagined, in which she had invited various composers to provide their own modern variations on Bach’s original theme. One of those variations that Ms. Downes performs is music that John describes as a “lyrically flowing version by Fred Hersch” (you can read John's review here). 

 Fred Hersch, Drew Gress, Joey Baron

This new ECM release finds Hersch in a trio setting, but “lyrically flowing” remains an apt description of his playing throughout, sympathetically supported by bassist Gress and drummer Baron, themselves like Hersch veterans of the NYC jazz scene; however, 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, which follows, 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 easily recommendable release of tasteful, thoughtful, rewarding jazz.

Piano Potpourri No. 12 (CD/Streaming Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Ravel: The Complete Solo Piano Works and Concertos. (CD1) Sérénade grotesque, M. 5; Menuet antique, M. 7; Pavane pour une infante défunte, M. 19; Jeux d'eau, M. 30; Sonatine, M. 40; Miroirs M. 43; (CD2) Gaspard de la nuit, M. 55; Menuet sur le nom d'Haydn, M. 58; Valses nobles et sentimentales, M. 61; Prélude, M. 65; À la manière de Borodine, M. 63/1; À la manière de Chabrier, M. 63/2; Le tombeau de Couperin, M. 68; (CD3) Piano Concerto for the Left Hand, M. 82; Piano Concerto in G Major, M. 83. Seong-Jin Cho, piano; Boston Symphony Orchestra; Andris Nelsons, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon Limited Edition 3 CD 486 6824

 

Earlier this year, we reviewed a Deutsche Grammophon recording of Maurice Ravel’s complete music for solo piano by the young Korean pianist Seong-Jin Cho (b. 1994), a review that you can read here. Following the release of that album, DG released his recording of the two Ravel piano concertos with the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Andris Nelsons. As many music lovers are no doubt aware, 2025 marks 150 years since Ravel’s birth; in May, DG released this deluxe album -- that combines those previous albums as part of this limited-edition 3-CD set. The album cover looks like it should hold LPs rather than CDs (when my copy arrived, my first thought was that I had been sent a vinyl version by mistake). That large, sturdy package comprises (in addition to the three CDs themselves) a hardcover book with full track listings and notes on the music; numerous photos of the artist; and the offer of three months’ free access to STAGE+, DG’s online video repository of concert performances and audio albums. Because we have already reviewed the solo piano music (link above), we’ll confine our comments to the concerto disc, which, given the talent shown by Cho in the solo piano music combined with the undeniable excellence of the BSO, is a worthy release indeed. Cho brings something of a light touch to Ravel’s music, which may well be why the album’s producers thought to devote a page devoted to this quote from Ravel: “The music of a concerto should, in my opinion, be lighthearted and brilliant, and not aim at profundity or at dramatic effects.”  Delightful music in an impressive package – it’s a limited edition (only 4000 to be produced), and of course the solo piano music and concerto releases are also available – these are all recommendable as appropriate.

 

Arc III. Louise Talma: Alleluia in Form of Toccata; Schubert: Fantasie in C major, Op. 15, D. 760“Wandererfantasie”; Debussy: L’Isle Joyeuse, L. 106; Dohnányi: Pastorale on a Hungarian Christmas Song; Brahms: Piano Sonata No. 3 in F minor, Op. 5; Ligeti: Études, Book 1: No. 5 Arc-en-ciel. Orion Weiss, piano. First Hand Records FHR129

 

Back in 2014, Ohio-born pianist Orion Weiss (b. 1981) embarked on a recording project that eventually yielded three releases, Arc I (our review of which you can read here) being the first. In the liner note essay of the first release of his projected trilogy, Weiss explained that “the arc of this recital trilogy is inverted, like a rainbow’s reflection in water. Arc I’s first steps head downhill, beginning from hope and proceeding to despair. The bottom of the journey, Arc II, [you can find our review of Arc II here] is Earth’s center, grief, loss, the lowest we can reach. The return trip, Arc III, is one of excitement and renewal, filled with the joy of rebirth and anticipation of a better future.” Weiss recorded Arc III in 2022 as the world was beginning to emerge from the COVID-19 shutdown and he found that to him, “everything seemed utterly transformed, almost unrecognizable. My perception of humanity had undergone a fundamental change… The music was another world, another set of ideas, able to lift me above my own, to teach me and guide me.” The generally uplifting spirit of the album is established at the outset with the exuberant Alleluia in Form of Toccata by the American composer Louise Talma (1906-1996), a piece that seems to be bursting at the seams with exuberance. Following this unfamiliar beginning, Weiss then brings us back into the realm of the familiar, with music from Schubert and Debussy, before once again bringing us something less familiar, Erno Dohnányi’s Pastorale on a Hungarian Christmas Song. This piece sounds more like a dreamlike dance fantasy than an ode to Yule logs or Christmas trees; but it has a wistful, hopeful charm that makes it quite appealing. Weiss then brings us the major work on his program, Brahms’s Piano Sonata No. 3, an imposing work in no fewer than five movements that total more than 35 minutes. Brahms composed this sonata at the age of 20, eager to display his talents as both composer and pianist, and Weiss channels the exuberance and youthful spirit of the young Brahms before closing his program in a more reflective vein with the colorful but enigmatic Ligeti Étude.

And thus we come to the end of Weiss’s Arc series of recordings. As the pianist himself summarizes it: “The music recorded on Arc I (FHR127) expresses foreboding from the brink of disaster. The music on Arc II (FHR128) was written by composers dealing with tragedy. At last, Arc III is a set of pieces born from the bright points of life. Peace, hope, love, ambition, optimism and the divine – the inspirations are myriad. These compositions spring from the million shades of happiness.” Arc III certainly is a delightful conclusion to the trilogy – well worth an audition, as are its two predecessors.

 

The Art of Memory. Bach: The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II; Lasser: 12 Preludes for Solo Piano "The Art of Memory". Anton Mejias, piano. Deutsche Grammophon (digital-only release)

 

The Finnish-Cuba pianist Anton Mejias (b. 2001) was fascinated by the music of Bach from a very young age. He made his recital debut at the age of eight, and by ten, he had already learned the entire Well- Tempered Clavier, Book I. Since then he has added the complete French and English Suites, all six Partitas, and the Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II, to his repertoire. The title of this new release has a dual reference: the recording captures a concert performance that in which Mejias played these works by Bach and Lasser from memory – no mean feat, to be sure – and the subtitle of Lasser’s work, “The Art of Memory.” Rather than present the Bach and Lasser compositions separately, Mejias has chosen to weave them together: four tracks of Bach, a track of Lasser – repeated in this way through all 48 preludes and fugues of The Well-Tempered Clavier, Book II and all 12 Preludes for Solo Piano "The Art of Memory."

Philip Lasser (b. 1961) is an American composer and pianist who is currently on the faculty at Julliard. Of his “The Art of Memory” he writes, “I began my Twelve Preludes many years ago with the idea of creating a set of works wherein as we went from one to the next, each prelude would collect remembrances of the past preludes until, at last, we reach the twelfth, which would be entirely made up of memories. . . I began to realize that this was a metaphor for human memory. With each new day, we become richer with new events, emotions, apperceptions; and yet, we receive the new only through the filter of our own personal experience which is then nothing more than a sum of our past remembrances. . . I am deeply honored that Anton Mejias has taken the bold move to perform and record my Preludes inside Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier and I hope that my work nests quietly in Bach's great work and offers yet another rhythm to the mastery of his unfolding of time.” Lasser’s brief, subtly ambiguous-sounding Preludes offer a subtle contrast to Bach’s more resolute music; woven together, the net effect is entrancing. At more than two hours in length, this is hardly an album suitable for a quick listen; to be sure, many listeners will use it as background music – not that there’s anything wrong with that. It will also reward serious listening for those who have the time and the inclination. It’s a remarkable recording.

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.

Levit / Theilemann / Vienna: Brahms Piano Concertos

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

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

Bill's Take:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karl's Take:

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

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

Brahms: Sonatas for Violin (Streaming Review)

by Bill Heck

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

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

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

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

Johannes Brahms

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

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

Akiko Suwanai

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

Evgeni Bozhanov

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

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

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

The Muse (Piano Music by Brahms)

by Bill Heck

Brahms: Händel Variations & Fugue op. 24; Rhapsodies Op. 79; Intermezzi Op. 117; Clara Schumann: Three Romanzes, Op. 21 (No 1). Challenge Classics CC 72970

Long-time readers may recall that I favorably reviewed an earlier album of Schumann works played by the Georgian pianist Nino Gvetadze (see review here). In the current album, Gvetadze takes on a set of works by Brahms, along with an "epilogue" piece by Clara Schumann.

First – and I am summarizing from the interesting liner notes in what follows – the works presented here are in some sense inspired by two muses: Clara Schumann and Elisabet von Herzogenberg. We don’t have space here to repeat – or even start – the topic of Johannes’s complex relationship with Clara (wife of Brahms champion and friend Robert Schumann and virtuoso pianist in her own right), but there can be little doubt of the depth of his feelings and his respect for her. Brahms presented the Handel Variations to her for her 42^nd birthday in 1861; she premiered the work later that year.

In turn, the Rhapsodies were dedicated in 1879 to Elisabet. At the least, he was fond of her; the nature and depth of that fondness is difficult to assess from our distance across time, but we know at least that he corresponded with her for years.

And perhaps both of these women were more indirectly muses later in Brahms’s life. By the time of the Interezzi of Op 117, Brahms wrote of “sorrows”: among other things, Elisabet had died and Brahms was aging, perhaps looking back on “almost” romantic interests that had not come to fruition.

Finally, we return to Clara Schumann. Was Brahms her muse? Her Romances were composed at a difficult time of her life, while her husband Robert was in mental decline just before his attempted suicide and subsequent institutionalization. These are lovely works, if melancholy; Clara was not in the same compositional league as Brahms, but Gvetadze makes a good case for them.

Rather than focus on individual works here, let’s talk about Gvetadze’s playing throughout this album. For one thing, it is marked by more rhythmic freedom than is sometimes given to compositions by Brahms. I admit that, on first hearing, I thought that it was a little too free at a few points, but repeated hearings have changed my mind. Brahms, after all, was a great composer of leider and, despite his break with the hyper-romanticism of Liszt and Wagner, he was perhaps the artist who most successfully joined the classical tradition with romanticism. In this light, I hear Gvetadze’s accents and dynamic shifts as the singing lines that Brahms gave to the piano. (And don’t forget that Brahms’s first instrument was the piano.) Moreover, in the Handel Variations, Gvetadze seems to create a different mood for each variation – by turn introspective, joyous, extroverted, quiet – you get the idea. Certainly, this is not the only legitimate style for Brahmsians, but it does make for lovely and engaging playing. Another characteristic is careful attention to dynamic balances, with seemingly each note judged and allocated its proper emphasis in the whole, and not just between the lines being played by two hands but individual note by note. Here’s just one example that caught my ear: in the final Fugue movement of the Handel Variations, at about 38 seconds, the right hand is repeating a single note, but so subtly that it only dawns on consciousness slowly and to good effect.

Then there’s the pianist’s secret weapon: the recording team from Challenge Classics who capture every nuance of the tones that she produces from her Steinway instrument. The sonic image is relatively close but coherent: no ten-feet-wide keyboards here. Moreover, the full range is present, the lower registers with incredible weight; just listen to the resonances in the solemn low notes at the beginning of the second Rhapsody. (It helps if you have speakers with real dynamic capability.) Gvetadze’s fine control of dynamics, which I mentioned as one of her expressive strengths, comes through unscathed.

Is the sonic presentation such a big deal? Well, I think it is. Compare, for example, Radu Lupu’s playing in the Rhapsodies. There’s no doubt that the playing is awesome (in the full sense of that overused word). But the recorded sound is, by today’s standards, tubby and overly reverberant, detracting from the sheer enjoyment of listening. (I wonder if Lupus’s great Brahms recording might one day be remastered?) That’s a somewhat extreme example, but it’s just easier and downright more fun to listen to the newer recording.

In the end, there are oodles of choices for all of these works, save perhaps the Clara Schumann one; judging as if there is some competition among the better ones seems pointless. (This despite a widespread cultural attitude saying that we must rank order everything and declare a winner!) But Gvetadze’s account joins the ranks of worthy entries that cast light on some wonderful, timeless music.