Showing posts with label Bridge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bridge. Show all posts

Apr 20, 2022

Recent Releases, No. 28

By Karl W. Nehring

J
óhannsson: Drone Mass. One Is True; Two Is Apocryphal; Triptych in Mass; To Fold & Remain Dormant; Diving Objects; The Low Drone of Circulating Blood, Diminishes with Time; Moral Vacuums; Take the Night Air; The Mountain View, The Majesty of the Snow-clad Peaks, From a Place of Contemplation And Reflection. Paul Hiller, conductor; American Contemporary Music Ensemble (Clarice Jensen, artistic director and cello; Ben Russell, violin; Laura Lutzke, violin; Caleb Burhans, viola); Theatre of Voices (Else Torp, Kate Macoboy, Signe Asmussen, Iris Oja, Paul Bentley-Angell, Jakob Skjoldborg, Jakob Bloch Jespersen, Steffen Bruun). Deutsche Grammophon 483 7418.

Here we have another recording of music from the late Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannson (1987-2018), whose compositions have been reviewed several times before in Classical Candor. Jóhannson was a composer with a rich imagination who was fascinated with sounds, so you never quite knew what he might come up with next. As the liner notes characterize it, “Drone Mass is an electroacoustic oratorio. It can also be seen as an exercise in apophenia – the tendency of the human brain to draw connections between apparently unrelated things, to find patterns and meanings where none was intended. As the composer himself admitted, he was inspired by the musical concept of the drone, but he was also keenly aware of the drones that patrol our skies. ‘I have no specific thoughts about how these ideas relate to each other,’ he wrote, ‘but for me they have some kind of poetic resonance, which is usually enough for me.’ Despite its title Drone Mass is neither a setting of the Mass nor a piece that simply drones. In fact, much of it is full of movement.” Jóhannsson based his text on the so-called “Coptic Gospel of the Egyptians,” part of the Nag Hammadi library discovered in 1945, including a hymn described as consisting of “a seemingly meaningless series of vowels.” The work’s premier performance took place in 2015 at the Egyptian Temple of Dendur space in  New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. Augmenting the ACME players were the vocal ensemble Roomful of Teeth, with the composer himself controlling the waves of electronic sound. The album reviewed here was recorded during May 2019 at the Garnisonskirken in Copenhagen. It was produced by Francesco Donadello, another friend and regular associate of Jóhannsson’s. ACME were joined by the Danish vocal group Theatre of Voices and their Artistic Director Paul Hillier. They too have a very close connection with Drone Mass, having performed it twice in the US, and in Krákow, with Jóhannsson and ACME. Most recently, ACME and Theatre of Voices gave a further performance in Athens, just four months after the composer’s death. Theatre of Voices also appear on other recordings of Jóhannsson’s work, including Orphée, Englabörn & Variations, Arrival, and Last and First Men.

Although the idea of electronics, a seemingly meaningless series of vowels, and even the very idea of a “drone mass” itself might sound forbidding and off-putting, the music itself is not so. Rather, it is music that is engaging and immersive, drawing the listener in with its interweaving of the mysterious and the familiar, the acoustic and the electronic, the ancient and the contemporary, the ephemeral and the eternal. At the opening, the sounds are those of the voices, captured in the large space of the church in which they were recorded, gradually joined by the string instruments. As the piece unfolds, electronic sounds become more prominent, adding texture and power as they make their dramatic entrance in To Fold & Remain Dormant and add a feeling of otherworldliness to The Low Drone. I would imagine that by now the more conservative among our readers have decided that they will take a pass on this one, the more adventurous are willing to give it a listen, and those in the middle are not quite sure just what to think. To this last group, I strongly encourage you to give Drone Mass an audition, at least if you have an interest in imaginative vocal music. (And hey, give it a try on a good set of headphones, preferably wired.)

Haydn 2032: No. 10 – Les Heures du Jour. Haydn: Symphony No. 6 in D Major “Le Matin”; No. 7 in C Major “Le Midi”; No. 8 “Le Soir”; Mozart: Serenade No. 6 in D Major, K.239 “Serenata Notturna”. Giovanni Antonini, Il Giardino Armonico. Alpha Classics ALPHA 686.

Lest any followers of Classical Candor get the idea that all I ever listen to or recommend is contemporary music such as that recommended above and below, allow me to present some evidence to the contrary. When it comes to honest-to-goodness true-blue through-and-through classical music, I must say in all candor that you really can’t beat good old Papa Haydn, and hey, Mozart’s not too shabby, either. This release is from a series that looks forward to the three hundredth anniversary of Haydn’s birth in 2032, a series with the ambitious goal of recording all 107 of the composer’s symphonies. Although as you can see from the heading that the three symphonies presented here are in numerical order, you can also see that this release is No. 10 in the series (and no, I have not auditioned any of the previous releases, although I plan to look into them). So what gives? How can recording number 10 of 107 symphonies comprise Symphonies Nos.6-8? And how did Mozart sneak in there? The answers can be found in the liner notes: “Seeing the music of Haydn as ’a kaleidoscope of human emotions’, Giovanni Antonini has decided to tackle the symphonies not in chronological order , but in thematically based programmes (‘La passione’, Il filosofo’, ‘Il distratto’, etc.). Moreover, the Italian conductor believes it is important to establish links between these works and pieces written by other composers contemporary with Haydn or is in some way connected with him.” The theme of this release is “the hours of the day,” as we have the three Haydn symphonies representing morning, noon, and evening, followed by the nocturnal serenade penned by Mozart. This is music that is colorful, sprightly, and at once both elegant and charming. The size and the sound of this Italian period-instrument chamber orchestra seem perfectly suited to this music, making for an utterly delightful release.

Thomas Larcher: Symphony No. 2.”Kenotaph.” Die Nacht der Verlorenen. Andre Schuen, baritone; Hannu Linto, Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra. Ondine  ODE 1393-2.

Thomas Larcher (b. 1963) is an Austrian composer and pianist. Interestingly enough,  his name sounded vaguely familiar to me, so I did a little digging. Aha! I discovered that he had made some recordings on the ECM label as far back as 1999, when he released an album of piano music by Schubert and Schoenberg. Here, of course, he appears in his role as composer, this new Ondine release featuring two of his orchestral compositions. The first is his Symphony No. 2, “Kenotaph” (2015-2016). The liner notes explain that “a cenotaph, from the Greek, is a term used for a monument which is in the shape of a tomb but which is empty, serving as a memorial for deceased persons buried elsewhere. Cenotaphs have traditionally been erected to honour those who have died in combat and remained on the battlefield, but with Larcher’s work the subtitle was motivated by the painful awareness of the thousands of refugees who have drowned in the Mediterranean. The work can also be understood as a more general meditation on human tragedy and an exploration of profound existential issues.” The work is reminiscent in some ways of Mahler, but not in a nostalgic way. Larcher cuts his own path, making his own individual statement while revealing his roots in the Viennese tradition. The two outer movements are the most intense and “modern sounding,” while the two inner movements, marked II. Adagio and III. Scherzo, Molto Allegro, respectively, are comparatively more straightforward sounding but entertainingly imaginative in the style of Mahler, but yet with a more modern sonority. This is music that is utterly fascinating, music that will make you want to listen again and again. Some listeners might be put off by the brashness of the opening measures, but I would urge them to be patient and give the symphony a chance. Let the two inner movements work their magic; once they do, the outer movements may begin to have more meaning. The song cycle Die Nacht der Verlorenen (“The Night of the Lost”) from 2008 takes as its text poems by the Austrian author Ingeborg Bachmann (1926-1973). The music is generally on the slow side, but expressive and colorful. Schuen’s voice is quite gripping; if you read the text, you will understand why, as the poems are quite dark. As we have come to expect from Ondine, the sound quality is excellent, with plenty of impact. As an added bonus, the liner notes are helpful, offering useful insights into the music. This may not quite be a release for everyone, but if you are a fan of the music of Mahler, then Larcher is someone you really might want to check out.

Elgar-Bridge: Cello Concertos. 
Elgar: Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85; Bridge: Oration (Concerto elegiaco). Gabriel Schwabe, cello; Christopher Ward, ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra. Naxos 8.574320.

I suspect that there are many classical music lovers who have more than one recording of the Elgar Cello Concerto in their collection. I suppose, then, I should just cut right to the chase and say that the folks at Naxos have released another one they might want to consider adding. First of all, Schwabe does a fine job. His account is swift and virtuosic, but he never seems to take things over the top. Likewise the orchestral accompaniment provided by Ward and his Vienna forces, who provide a nimble, clean, committed sound. All in all, this is a refreshingly straightforward performance. There are times when I might want to hear the heart-on-sleeve emotion of du Pré, but that is not the only way to play the Elgar. Another reason to pick up this release is the coupling, which is an unusual one, Frank Bridge’s Oration (Concerto elegiaco) from 1930. According to the liner notes, “the subtitle Concerto elegiaco was the score’s original title, but, according to Florence Hooton, the composer changed that to Oration in order to emphasize his conception of the work as a funeral address and an outcry against the futility of war, with the solo cello as orator.” Schwabe is able to make his cello play that role perfectly, making it sing out passionately with deeply felt emotion. Oration is a musically moving piece that deserves to be heard; kudos to Naxos for including it here. Off the top of my head I can think of three outstanding Elgar Cello Concerto recordings that are paired with performances of pieces/performances that deserve to be heard: The Jacqueline du Pre/Sir John Barbirolli Elgar paired with Janet Baker’s performance of Elgar’s Sea Pictures; the Inbal Segev/Marin Alsop Elgar paired with Segev’s performance of Anna Clyne’s Dance; and this one. I’m sure there are others, but I can personally attest to these three. Enjoy!

KWN

Mar 3, 2021

Recent English Symphonic Releases (CD/SACD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Perhaps it can all be traced back to the British Invasion back in the 60s, the Beatles and Stones and all that, but in any event, my wife and I have pretty much become dyed-in-the-wool Anglophiles over the years. William Wordsworth, John Mayall, Ian Fleming, Monty Python, Eric Clapton, Fawlty Towers, John Le Carré, All Creatures Great and Small. Agatha Christie, Black Adder, The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, Keeping Up Appearances, John McLaughlin, The Good Neighbors, J.R.R. Tolkien, Are You Being Served?, Jeff Beck, Endeavour, Inspector Morse, Inspector Lewis, Miss Marple, Malcolm Arnold, Dr. Who, D.C.I. Banks, Sherlock, J.K. Rowling, Boaty McBoatface, Planet Earth, Top Gear, Mum, Hold the Sunset, All Creatures Great and Small (redux), The Great British Baking Show… And then there is As Time Goes By, which our local PBS station aired for years and years every weeknight at 11, over and over and over again. In October, 2020, the inevitable finally happened; they announced that after many, many years, they were no longer going to be showing it. Tears and tribulation in the Nehring household! By Christmas, we had purchased the complete DVD set, and are blessedly back to watching an episode every weeknight at 11, which we plan to keep doing for the rest of our married life. (Our oldest daughter, now 40, recently remarked that she felt as though Dame Judy Dench was her dear British auntie).

As far as classical music, I am also something of an Anglophile, which I can trace back to the time in the mid 70s when I checked out a library copy of Sir Adrian Boult conducting the New Philharmonia Orchestra in a performance of Symphony No. 3 (“Pastoral”) by Ralph Vaughan Williams, partly because the composer had the same first name as my late father. I was immediately transfixed by the sheer beauty and allusive atmosphere of the music, and soon sought out more recordings by RVW and other composers from across the pond. I discovered a vast universe of richly rewarding music and have acquired many wonderful recordings by English composers as well as their British brother and sister composers over the years. Allow me to present then for your edification three recent releases of English symphonic music that nobly represent the depth and diversity of this music.

Vaughan Williams: Symphony No. 5; Scenes Adapted from Bunyans’s Pilgrim’s Progress. Emily Portman, folk voice; Kitty Whately, mezzo-soprano; Marcus Farnsworth, baritone; BBC Symphony Chorus and BBC Singers Quartet; Martyn Brabbins, BBC Symphony Orchestra. Hyperion CDA68325. 

Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) composed nine symphonies, all of which are excellent. Nos. 3, 4, 5, and 6 are, to my humble mind at least, masterpieces that belong in every serious classical music collection.  Of those fab four, Symphony No. 5 is foremost. There are many fine recordings available, with my personal favorites being two older versions led by Previn (RCA and Telarc), a more recent version led by Michael Collins on BIS, which is paired with a fine concerto by Finzi, and the CD I am most likely to pop into my player because of its amazing program, featuring James Spano leading the Atlanta forces, also on Telarc.

This new Hyperion release need not hang its head in such company, as it is a fine performance captured in first-rate sound quality. Overall, Brabbins’s interpretation seems a bit on the subdued side, a little slow, a little soft, but that is not really a mark against it. Under his baton, the music flows smoothly and holds together as an organic whole, the movements seeming to fit together perfectly. Spellbinding!

Another appealing feature of this release is the inclusion of scenes adapted from RVW’s music for John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress (which was actually the first RVW music I ever heard, having attended a live performance in 1969 about which I now recall virtually nothing, alas). This is music not often heard, of which there is enough here to be enjoyed on its own or to serve as an appetizer for the complete work (I can vouch for the Hickox version on Chandos). Overall, this new release from Hyperion is a fine addition to the catalog of RVW recordings and is well worth an audition, especially for those who are unfamiliar with Pilgrim’s Progress.

English Music for Strings: Britten, Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge; Bridge, Lament; Berkeley, Serenade for Strings; Bliss, Music for Strings. John Wilson, Sinfonia of London. Chandos CHSA 5264. 

There are a number of recordings of English string music available on the market, with many English composers having composed music in this genre and many conductors having taken a crack at recording their favorite pieces. Some of those recordings have attained near-legendary status, foremost among them the recordings by the late Sir John Barbirolli on EMI. This new Chandos recording from conductor John Wilson and his hand-picked recording orchestra (string orchestra, in this case) is a 21st-century candidate for entry into the English String Music Hall of Fame, being outstanding in both performance and engineering.

The first few bars of the opening of Benjamin Britten’s Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge immediately establish the commitment and power that the musicians and engineering team bring to these performances. First you hear the energetic PLUCKS, then you can virtually see the players DIG IN with their bows as Wilson gets things off to a bang-up start. If you have ever seen a string orchestra perform in concert, you are no doubt familiar with how the players really can become animated as they play, wielding their bows with both passion and precision. This recording lets you see that in your mind’s eye as they work their way through music by the four Bs of English music: Britten (1913-1976), Bridge (1879-1941), Berkeley (1903-1989), and Bliss (1891-1975). As a bonus, not only are the musicianship and engineering superb, but the liner notes offer helpful context and commentary on the composers and their compositions. This is a highly recommendable release in every respect, not just for those who enjoy string music, although especially for them. You know who you are.

Matthew Taylor: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 5; Romanza for Strings. Kenneth Woods, English Symphony Orchestra, BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Nimbus Alliance NI 6406.

As I have written before, it is really exciting to discover a composer whose music just sounds so extraordinarily right to you that you immediately want to hear more. Such is the case with Matthew Taylor (b. 1964) and the three remarkable compositions on this supremely satisfying new Nimbus CD. American conductor Kenneth Woods leads the BBC National Orchestra of Wales in the Symphony No. 4 and Romanza for Strings, while in Symphony No. 5 he leads the orchestra of which he is Music Director, the English Symphony Orchestra. All three compositions make a strong impression, each in a different way.

Symphony No. 4 is a one-movement work that features three distinct sections. Taylor writes in the liner notes that “the work was written in memory of my old friend and fellow symphonist John McCabe, and is dedicated to John’s widow Monica. John and I shared many musical enthusiasms, Haydn and Nielsen in particular and both of these composers made an impact on this work: there is an attempt to create a Nielsenesque sweep at the start of the first movement and the finale includes a few pranks which Haydn might have enjoyed. However, there is little that is consciously elegiac in character as I have always felt that the best way to pay tribute is to adopt an approach that is essentially celebratory in spirit. In fact No. 4 is arguably my most friendly symphony so far.” What I find especially attractive about this work is the way Taylor is able to use so many elements of the orchestra to provide color and contrast. In this respect, he reminds me of Mahler, although his music is far different. The orchestra is large, and the music starts with plenty of energy featuring some pounding tympani. Overall, though, the music is not typically loud and overwhelming; rather, it is often intimate and beguiling, especially in its central adagio, with some especially beautiful playing by the strings and winds, augmented at times by brass, before the symphony ends with a finale that is playful and optimistic.

By contrast, Taylor’s Symphony No. 5 is more serious in tone. Taylor writes of this symphony that “exposure to the Beethoven’s Fifth at the age of about five was undoubtedly one of the defining moments in my life. Though unable to play any musical instrument at that age or grasp what an orchestra was, I was instantly knocked sideways by the power and expressive force of this music. Now, almost fifty years later, even if Schumann remains probably my favorite composer, the life force of Beethoven’s music is a massive influence when writing large scale instrumental works.”  It is in the traditional four-movement structure, with the central two movements each dedicated by the composer to departed friends and the final movement to Taylor’s mother (who died as he was working on the final pages of the symphony), which helps to explain the more serious tone. Still, for the most part, this is not a somber symphony, at least not until the very end. The first movement has plenty of rhythmic energy and drive with once again (as in Symphony No 4.) there are moments where Taylor deftly employs small forces to draw us in to his musical world. The second movement has an aura of mystery, while the third employs strings and solo flute to create a wistful but slightly uneasy atmosphere. The finale, marked Adagio, is the longest movement and the most intense. The ending is particularly affecting, forlornly fading into nothingness.

Sandwiched between the two symphonies is the 7-minute Romanza for Strings, an orchestration of a movement from one of Taylor’s string quartets. It is a pleasant piece that provides a peaceful interlude before the serious business of the Symphony No. 5.  

The sound quality throughout is very good, with excellent frequency balance and reasonable imaging. The liner notes are interesting in that they feature remarks by a fellow composer, the conductor, the composer himself, as well as remarks about the conductor, composer, both orchestras, and even the artist whose painting graces the cover. Well done, Nimbus!

Bonus Recommendation:

Leaving the realm of orchestral music but lingering longingly in the music of England, allow me to point out a wonderful Chandos recording (CHAN 20156) featuring violinist Jennifer Pike and pianist Martin Roscoe performing sonatas by Elgar and Vaughan Williams along with the seldom-heard original violin and piano version of that incredibly lovely composition by Vaughan Williams, The Lark Ascending. Both these composers are more well-known for their large-scale works but both were capable of expressing themselves in a chamber music setting, as this CD amply demonstrates. This is music that goes straight to the heart while soothing the mind and healing the spirit.

KWN

Sep 19, 2018

Bridge: The Sea (CD review)

Also, Enter Spring; Summer; Cherry Ripe; Lament. Sir Charles Groves, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra. EMI CDM 7243-5-66855-2.

The English composer, violist, and conductor Frank Bridge (1879-1941) was one of England's principal pastoral composers in the years just preceding and just following World War I. Although Bridge was to become more modernist as time went on, his music nevertheless remained largely harmonic and impressionistic.

Bridge's early tone poems, represented here, are excellent examples of early twentieth-century English pastoral writing. Yes, his work would become increasingly more complex and troubled over the years, yet Bridge wrote these pieces, as we see by their descriptive titles alone, to reflect a serene, natural beauty.

Sir Charles Groves
The Sea, from 1910, is probably his most famous and most-popular work, a composition clearly influenced by Debussy's La Mer of a few years earlier. Likewise, in Summer, Cherry Ripe, and Lament, from 1914-1916, one can hear echoes of contemporary English composers Arnold Bax and Frederick Delius. Enter Spring, from 1927, the latest composition date on the disc, is the most mature work included, not just in its year of completion but in its level of development. It is still pastoral in style and relatively tranquil, but it shows a marked increase in orchestral color, contrast, and elaboration. 

Although I have not heard every recording of these works ever committed to disc, I cannot imagine there being any finer renditions, interpretively or sonically, than these from Sir Charles Groves and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic. Sir Charles delivers performances of the utmost care and affection, and the Liverpool players perform them with supreme confidence.

Producer John Willan and balance engineer John Kurlander recorded the music at Philharmonic Hall, Liverpool in July 1975. They provide sound that is full, refined, well balanced, and wholly convincing. It sets off a most-pleasing collection.

JJP

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


May 4, 2016

Bridge: The Music of Frank Bridge (CD review)

Carol Rosenberger, piano; Constantine Orbelian, Moscow Chamber Orchestra. Delos DE 3263.

For the last quarter century, one of my favorite albums for pure relaxation has been EMI's recording of English composer, conductor, and violinist Frank Bridge's The Sea, among other short works with Sir Charles Groves and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic. I mention this at the start because it may represent a lot people's introduction to Bridge's pastoral music. For more of the same, this 2001 Delos album with Constantine Orbelian and the Moscow Chamber Orchestra offers three lesser-known pieces by the composer. Although they are not in the same league as the works on the EMI disc, they do demonstrate the innate sweetness of Bridge's touch.

The highlight of this Delos disc is a suite of four short pieces arranged for string orchestra called, appropriately, Four Pieces for String Orchestra. Bridge originally wrote the pieces as separate items, and Paul Hindmarsh assembled them for the suite we have here. The music makes for a wonderfully entertaining and soothing combination of sounds. The central Waltz is slightly macabre in tone but has a lovely lilt, and the closing Scherzo is vibrant and amusing.

Constantine Orbelian
On either side of the Four Pieces we find the lovely Chamber Concerto for piano and orchestra (arranged by Orbelian) and Three Idylls. Bridge reworked the concerto from several of his other chamber compositions and published it in various forms from 1904 to 1912, presumably the final version as performed here. It hasn't quite the energy or the originality of the Four Pieces but still makes for easy, casual listening. The Three Idylls are altogether more somber but eventually blossom into a stirring climax.

Maestro Orbelian leads with a light, fluid touch; the Moscow players give him a comfortable, almost cushy response; and Ms. Rosenberger plays with an accomplished grace. The whole affair sounds very much in the English pastoral style despite the ensemble itself not being English.

Delos engineer John Eargle did up the audio in a process the company called VR, Virtual Reality, meaning the listener can play it back in the surround mode with subtle rear-channel effects added. However, in ordinary two-channel stereo it sounds just fine, if a bit thick around the middle. Interestingly, I found the larger orchestra on the aforementioned EMI disc more transparent than this smaller chamber group. But I suppose the added warmth afforded by the VR environment does contribute to the amiable mood of the music.

I wish someone would have told Delos to do something about their clunky art design, though. Their front cover and rear print layout here are unappealing, and for those of us who like to linger over the artwork, they do little to complement the comfortable atmosphere created by the music.

JJP




Apr 18, 2013

Bridge: The Sea (CD review)

Also, Enter Spring; Summer; Two Poems for Orchestra. James Judd, New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Naxos 8.557167.

Frank Bridge (1879-1941) is one of those composers whom people may know better today as the teacher of Benjamin Britten than as a leading exponent of the British pastoral movement of the early twentieth century.

Be that as it may, Bridge followed a career in Romanticism until the First World War changed his disposition and outlook on music. From rich, flowing, descriptive tone poems his music took a turn toward harsher, more dissonant, more modern paths, and subsequently his popularity declined. Critics nowadays tend to praise his later, more-mature works, but that may be a reaction against Romanticism itself, which is only just beginning to make a comeback in contemporary classical music. Like it or not, however, it is Bridge’s early work that continues to sell and, I assume, to give people pleasure.

This Naxos disc brings together three of the composer’s best-known tone poems, The Sea, Enter Spring, and Summer, and it adds a couple of brief Poems for Orchestra, based on short poems by Richard Jeffries, for good measure.

While all of the music is delightful, the highlight of the disc is The Sea, sounding for all the world like Debussy’s La Mer. I suppose you could say of the early Bridge that he was England’s answer to France’s Debussy and Ravel, weaving intricate little tapestries of light and color, musical portraits that impressionistically and expressionistically touch the heart and soul. For instance, he divides The Sea into four movements--“Seascape,” “Sea-Foam,” “Moonlight,” and “Storm”--all of them pretty much self-explanatory. If you like the descriptive qualities of La Mer, you’ll like The Sea, which Bridge wrote just a few years after Debussy wrote La Mer, and it must have influenced him.

Maestro James Judd presents each of the pieces fluidly and meaningfully, never stopping to linger too long for sentimental reasons yet never relegating the music to the tired-warhorse bin, either. It’s a nice, forthright approach that captures most of the beauty and charm of Bridge’s work.

There are two “however’s,” though. The first “however” is that this Naxos release goes head-to-head with the justly famous 1975 recording of much the same material by Sir Charles Groves on EMI, which to my ears is more transparent sonically and more idiomatic interpretively. Moreover, the EMI disc contains not only The Sea, Enter Spring, and Summer, but the tone poems Cherry Ripe and Lament as well. The second “however” concerns the counterarguments that the budget-priced Naxos disc is cheaper by a couple of dollars than the mid-priced EMI disc, that the Naxos disc may be easier to find, and that a lot people will prefer the slightly softer, more-muted Naxos sound to the brighter, sharper-edged EMI sound.

In any case, a person can’t go wrong with the Naxos disc. It’s beautiful music, and it’s beautiful sound.

To hear a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

JJP

Meet the Staff

Meet the Staff
John J. Puccio, Founder and Contributor

Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on the Big Jon and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.

Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing for the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.

Karl Nehring, Editor and Contributor

For nearly 30 years I was the editor of The $ensible Sound magazine and a regular contributor to both its equipment and recordings review pages. I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, "classical" especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me — point out recordings that they think I might enjoy.

For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises Marantz CD 6007 and Onkyo CD 7030 CD players, NAD C 658 streaming preamp/DAC, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE loudspeakers. I occasionally do some listening through pair of Sennheiser 560S headphones. I miss the excellent ELS Studio sound system in our 2016 Acura RDX (now my wife's daily driver) on which I had ripped more than a hundred favorite CDs to the hard drive, so now when driving my 2024 Honda CRV Sport L Hybrid, I stream music from my phone through its adequate but hardly outstanding factory system. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through a Roku Streambar Pro system (soundbar plus four surround speakers and a 10" sealed subwoofer) that has surprisingly nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence and reasonable price. Finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom II Bluetooth speaker and a pair of Google Pro Earbuds for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can’t imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technologies that enable us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.

William (Bill) Heck, Webmaster and Contributor

Among my early childhood memories are those of listening to my mother playing records (some even 78 rpm ones!) of both classical music and jazz tunes. I suppose that her love of music was transmitted genetically, and my interest was sustained by years of playing in rock bands – until I realized that this was no way to make a living. The interest in classical music was rekindled in grad school when the university FM station serving as background music for studying happened to play the Brahms First Symphony. As the work came to an end, it struck me forcibly that this was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and from that point on, I never looked back. This revelation was to the detriment of my studies, as I subsequently spent way too much time simply listening, but music has remained a significant part of my life. These days, although I still can tell a trumpet from a bassoon and a quarter note from a treble clef, I have to admit that I remain a nonexpert. But I do love music in general and classical music in particular, and I enjoy sharing both information and opinions about it.

The audiophile bug bit about the same time that I returned to classical music. I’ve gone through plenty of equipment, brands from Audio Research to Yamaha, and the best of it has opened new audio insights. Along the way, I reviewed components, and occasionally recordings, for The $ensible Sound magazine. Most recently I’ve moved to my “ultimate system” consisting of a BlueSound Node streamer, an ancient Toshiba multi-format disk player serving as a CD transport, Legacy Wavelet II DAC/preamp/crossover, dual Legacy PowerBloc2 amps, and Legacy Signature SE speakers (biamped), all connected with decently made, no-frills cables. With the arrival of CD and higher resolution streaming, that is now the source for most of my listening.

Ryan Ross, Contributor

I started listening to and studying classical music in earnest nearly three decades ago. This interest grew naturally out of my training as a pianist. I am now a musicologist by profession, specializing in British and other symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries. My scholarly work has been published in major music journals, as well as in other outlets. Current research focuses include twentieth-century symphonic historiography, and the music of Jean Sibelius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Malcolm Arnold.

I am honored to contribute writings to Classical Candor. In an age where the classical recording industry is being subjected to such profound pressures and changes, it is more important than ever for those of us steeped in this cultural tradition to continue to foster its love and exposure. I hope that my readers can find value, no matter how modest, in what I offer here.


Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst

I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.

Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.

Mission Statement

It is the goal of Classical Candor to promote the enjoyment of classical music. Other forms of music come and go--minuets, waltzes, ragtime, blues, jazz, bebop, country-western, rock-'n'-roll, heavy metal, rap, and the rest--but classical music has been around for hundreds of years and will continue to be around for hundreds more. It's no accident that every major city in the world has one or more symphony orchestras.

When I was young, I heard it said that only intellectuals could appreciate classical music, that it required dedicated concentration to appreciate. Nonsense. I'm no intellectual, and I've always loved classical music. Anyone who's ever seen and enjoyed Disney's Fantasia or a Looney Tunes cartoon playing Rossini's William Tell Overture or Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 can attest to the power and joy of classical music, and that's just about everybody.

So, if Classical Candor can expand one's awareness of classical music and bring more joy to one's life, more power to it. It's done its job. --John J. Puccio

Contact Information

Readers with polite, courteous, helpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@gmail.com

Readers with impolite, discourteous, bitchy, whining, complaining, nasty, mean-spirited, unhelpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@recycle.bin.

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa