Mendelssohn/Bruch Violin Concertos (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto in E Minor, Op. 64; Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 26. Johan Dalene, violin; Gemma New/Malin Broman, conductors; Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra; Kaspars Putniņš, choral conductor; Swedish Radio Choir. BIS 2610

So often when I listen to a classical release, and check other reviewers’ takes, I’ll wonder if we actually heard the same thing. Even when my reactions aren’t that different, I’ll sometimes be amazed at how my counterparts choose to couch their remarks. Take this new Johan Dalene recording, for instance. Some reviewers apparently think these concerto performances are the best things since indoor plumbing. (We’ll deal with the Vaughan Williams-Drayton monstrosity in due course.) And you know what? They’re…okay. Good. Very good, even. But there are now hundreds of recordings of the Mendelssohn Op. 64 and Bruch Op. 26 each. What does this new offering add that’s noteworthy? I have to say that it adds very little. Which is perfectly fine, but to praise it to the skies like some are doing seems excessive. Don’t they know the classic (and much stronger) performances by Heiffetz? Oistrakh? Milstein? Etc.? Or are we just in the business now of being too nice to anything that’s new from anyone who happens to have a pulse?

Actually, I have nothing against Mr. Dalene. He’s an excellent violinist, and still very young.  It’s not his fault that his playing doesn’t have the character of the legends I just named. But after all, he’s putting himself out there, and I can’t see the point in not being honest. Most people will be well served by this Mendelssohn performance. Conductor/concertmaster Malin Broman and the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra all provide solid support for Dalene, even if at times they impose themselves slightly overmuch. And maybe it’s just my imagination, or Dalene’s interpretive style, but his tone sometimes sounds a tad huskier or scratchier than the rich ones in the best recordings. The finale tends to be where the cream rises to the top, and here I detect these minor imperfections rather more insistently. Again, it’s all  fine…but not in the S-tier, and certainly no better than dozens of other performances I’ve heard. It’ll all do, certainly. But not if you’re seeking “great” rather than just “excellent.”

 

Similar things could be said for the Bruch, although here I’m all the more needing a “presence” that Dalene doesn’t quite provide. He acquits himself very respectably, but there’s something extra missing. I’m afraid his supporting cast here doesn’t completely help him, as it’s even more invasive than in the Mendelssohn. Or maybe I notice it more because the Bruch is so much a “soloist’s” concerto, and the SRSO at times almost sounds like they’re covering, or even competing, with him in the character department. Conductor Gemma New and Company supply a fire that I wish Dalene matched. Will the casual listener care about any of this? Probably not. But I’d be interested to know how many other longtime fans of the concerto hear what I do.

 

I would have been happy to end this review right here with a “solid yet undistinguished” verdict, and to have begun my next Classical Candor project forthwith. But alas, there is one remaining item on this release: a 2019 arrangement by Paul Drayton of Ralph Vaughan Williams’s The Lark Ascending for violin and choir. I wish I could tell you that this is a version of the beloved work that you didn’t know you needed. But if you’re like me, you’ll listen to it and know that it was never needed. It might have been okay were it just a question of the choir taking the place of the orchestra. That’s harmless enough, right? But Drayton felt compelled to have the choir sing parts of the poetry by George Meredith that forms an epigraph to the work. The result sounds every bit as cheesy as you can imagine. It smacks of wanting to include a novelty that flatters Dalene’s artistry in a way his traditional performances here don’t quite achieve. It’s also a gimmick designed to cash in on The Lark’s popularity, and I’m sorry to say that it will probably work if for no other reason than its stoking of sheer curiosity. Still, I regret that one of a number of shorter, neglected works for violin and orchestra couldn’t have been included in its original form instead. There’s something to be said for blazing trails, an activity eminently suited to Dalene’s gifts. But he misses the opportunity, and so we’re left with a mildly frustrating mixture of unremarkable + remarkable in the wrong way.

Transmission (CD review)

Music of Bloch, Korngold, Bruch, and Ravel. Edgar Moreau, cello; Michael Sanderling, Luzerner Sinfonieorchester. Erato 0190295105105.

By John J. Puccio

“I’ve always had a profound love for the music of the great Jewish composers and for compositions on Jewish themes. With the invaluable support of the Luzerner Sinfonieorchester and chief conductor Michael Sandlering I’m proud to lend my voice today to the vital task of transmitting this universal cultural legacy.”  --Edgar Moreau

The French classical cellist Edgar Moreau was born in Paris in 1994, began studying the cello at the age of four, and from the age of sixteen went on to win awards, competitions, and accolades from just about everybody. “Transmission” marks the seventh or eighth record album on which Moreau has appeared.

As he said in the opening quote, Mr. Moreau has a love for the music of great Jewish composers and presents five such pieces for cello on the present album, starting with the little three-movement suite From Jewish Life (1924-25) by the Swiss-born American composer Ernest Bloch (1880-1959). The work’s three sections are like little tone poems with the self-explanatory titles “Prayer: Andante moderato,” “Supplication,” and “Jewish Song.” Moreau demonstrates his love for the music by presenting each section in emotionally passionate yet lyrical terms. The mellow, easygoing sound of the cello naturally makes the most of the music’s pensive, sometimes brooding moods.

Next is the Cello Concerto in C, Op. 37 by the Austrian-born American composer Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957). Korngold is perhaps best known for his film scores, and the Cello Concerto is no exception. He wrote it for the 1946 movie Deception starring Bette Davis and then later expanded it for the concert stage. If you enjoy Korngold’s movie music (Anthony Adverse, The Sea Hawk, Captain Blood, The Adventures of Robin Hood, King’s Row), you’ll notice a similarity to those grand-scale productions. Moreau, conductor Michael Sanderling, and the Lucerne Symphony players give it their best Hollywood all, while still maintaining the esteem of the classical stage.

After that is one of the several more-famous pieces on the album, Kol Nidrei, by the German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920). “Kol Nidrei” translates as “All vows,” the opening words of a Jewish prayer sung on the eve of Yom Kippur. After the somewhat swashbuckling nature of the Korngold piece, the Kol Nidrei is a sweet contrast, Moreau playing it in an affectionate, meditative style that never strays too close to sentimentality.

The penultimate selection on the program is another renowned work, Schelomo - Rhapsodie hebraique (1915-16), by the aforementioned Ernest Bloch. The central figure in the piece is King Solomon, although a booklet comment by writer Reinmar Wagner notes that Bloch probably wasn’t so much referring to Solomon as the King but as “a preacher in the desert, who bemoans the vanity of the world and reflects on the transience of life.” Under Moreau and company, the tale unfolds with a clear-eyed vigor.

The album concludes with 2 Melodies hebraiques (1910) by the French composer, pianist, and conductor Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). Ravel included the Melodies as a part of a larger work in which he characterized the music of various peoples of the world, the Melodies becoming some of the most-popular pieces in the work. Moreau captures the color, tranquillity, and charm of the music without indulging in some of the histrionics we’ve sometimes heard from other musicians. He appears to have a keen vision of what he wants to convey in his performances and does so handsomely.

Producers Alain Lanceron and Martin Sauer and engineer Julian Schwenkner made the recording in Lucerne, Switzerland in October 2020. Obviously, the cello plays a prominent place in the sound field. Yet it’s not so forward as to dwarf the accompanying ensemble. While there is perhaps a degree of depth lacking in the sound, as well as its being somewhat soft on details, it is nevertheless easy on the ears and compliments nicely the soulful tone of much of the music. A few instances of impressively deep bass help, too.

JJP

Incantation (CD review)

Music of Bruch, Vitali, Saint-Saens, Tchaikovsky, Bloch, Chausson, and Umebayashi. Virgil Boutellis-Taft, violin; Jac Van Steen, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. Aparte Music AP234.

Nobody tells me anything.

I learn about thousands of classical CD titles and listen to hundreds of classical recordings every year, but I still don't know who all the rising young classical artists are in the world. Take, for example, French violinist Virgil Boutellis-Taft. His biography reads, "Hailed by critics as an 'outstanding violinist,' 'of fiery temperament,' with 'intense, brilliant, sumptuous sound' and 'impressive virtuosity,' Virgil Boutellis-Taft performs as soloist and chamber musician in major international concert halls." From Wikipedia we learn that he "began studying violin and piano at the age of 6...and gave his first concerts at the age of 9."

Incantation is Boutellis-Taft's second record album, taking its title from the word meaning "the chanting or uttering of words purporting to have magical power; the formula employed; a spell or charm," according to Dictionary.com. The accompanying booklet notes that "'Incantation,' from the Latin word incantare, ranges in meaning from ordinary singing that is 'enchanting' to music in a religious context with a ritual function, as in Gregorian plainchant, then to the unsettling use of magic or demonic spells or charms." Apparently, Mr. Boutellis-Taft in this album is going for the "spiritual, magical, mesmerizing aspects of incantation."

I would have preferred he had just said, "Here are a few of my favorite short violin pieces that let me display my fiery temperament, brilliant sound, and impressive virtuosity." Whatever, the following is a list of what's on the album:

1. "Kol Nidrei" by Max Bruch
2. "Chaccone in G minor" by Tomaso Antonio Vitali
3. "Danse macabre" by Camile Saint-Saens
4. "Serenade melancolique" by Peter Tchaikovsky
5. "Nigun" by Ernest Bloch
6. "Poeme for violin and orchestra" by Ernest Chausson
7. "Yumeji's Theme" by Shigeru Umebayashi

Virgil Boutellis-Taft

The opening number, Kol Nidrei ("All Vows"), which German composer Max Bruch (1838-1920) wrote in 1880 is a good example of "incantation." It's a series of variations on mostly Jewish liturgical themes. It has a beautifully lyrical character, and Boutellis-Taft invests it with much personality. The piece is a plaintive expression of religious themes, originally intended for cello but here transcribed for violin. In addition, Boutellis-Taft has elected to omit the middle section, which gets a bit flowery Romantic, and instead repeats the central theme in keeping with the Jewish service it represents. The soloist creates a refreshing new look at an old favorite.

And so it goes, with Boutellis-Taft endowing each work with much expressive distinction and beauty. The Chaconne in G minor, ascribed to Italian composer and violist Tomaso Vitali (1663-1745), continues in that vein, making an almost seamless segue from the Bruch piece. Boutellis-Taft's playing is fluid, effortless, and eloquent, and the Royal Philharmonic's accompaniment sounds as rich as ever.

The Danse macabre (1874) by French composer Camille Saint-Saens (1835-1921) may seem like a giant leap from the preceding two more contemplative pieces, but, in fact, Boutellis-Taft makes the leap with consummate ease, taking the work a little less demonically than some interpreters do and filling it with much poetic beauty. I would note here, too, that Boutellis-Taft uses a new violin-and-orchestra rendering of the piece, not Saint-Saens's original orchestral version.

My own favorite among the seven selections was the Poeme pour violin et orchestre by French composer Ernest Chausson (1855-1899). Boutellis-Taft brings out all the exotic color of the work without resorting to any hint of over sentimentalizing or romanticizing. It's quite lovely.

Incantation lives up to its name, manifesting much magic, mystery, beauty, enchantment, and angelic intensity thanks to Boutellis-Taft's heartfelt execution. He is a performer to be reckoned with, and I expect we will be hearing more good things from him from here on out.

Producers Hugo Scremin and Nicolas Bartholomee and engineer Francois Eckert recorded the music at Henry Wood Hall, London in July 2019. The sound is very clean, if a bit one-dimensional. Definition is precise, and the violin appears well integrated with the orchestra, not too far in front yet not overpowered by the orchestral forces. The frequency response is nicely balanced as well, although the highest treble and deepest bass seem a tad lacking. Nevertheless, most listeners should find it more than satisfactory. Ditto for the dynamic range and impact. Very cleanly executed.

JJP

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

Bruch: Scottish Fantasy (CD review)

Also, Violin Concerto No. 1. Joshua Bell, soloist and conductor; Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. Sony Classical 19075 84200 2.

Since its founding by John Churchill and Sir Neville Marriner in 1959, the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields has been among the most-prominent chamber orchestras in the world. I was lucky enough to have begun collecting their recordings about the time Sir Neville started conducting them from the podium in the early 1960's, and I have followed their career through the years on L'Oiseau-Lyre, Argo, Decca, Philips, EMI, Collins, Chandos, DG, CORO, and now Sony. Although they seemed to lose a little of their recording presence during the early 2000's, their current Music Director since 2011, violinist Joshua Bell, has brought them back into the public eye. I certainly welcome any new recording by them.

The current disc features two of the most-popular works by the German Romantic composer
Max Bruch (1838–1920): his Scottish Fantasy and Violin Concerto No. 1. Record producers and conductors often pair these pieces on their discs, but seldom is the Scottish Fantasy announced so prominently. Indeed, in this case it is the only work mentioned on the cover of Bell's album. I didn't even know they included the Violin Concerto until I looked at the back of the jewel box.

Anyway, the first thing on the disc is Bruch's Scottish Fantasy, which he finished in 1880, dedicating it to the violin virtuoso Pablo de Sarasate. The Fantasy is, of course, Bruch's survey of Scottish folk tunes, loosely tied together in four movements.

The Fantasy starts off rather solemnly with an introduction marked "Grave," which is slow and somber before giving way to the more familiar and frolicsome melodies that follow. The Adagio cantabile, for example, floats gently overheard, doing much favor and grace to the Scottish love song that inspired it. Then, the Scherzo has a charming flow that melds imperceptibly with the folk tune of the Andante that succeeds it. Yes, there is a good deal of sentimentality in the music, yet it's a delightful sentimentality no less. The work concludes with a finale that is the most overtly "Scottish" of the Fantasy's music.

Joshua Bell

I have no idea why Bruch chose to start so charming a piece of music with so somber an introduction, but Bell soon enough takes us into the sweeping melodies that audiences have always loved. His violin almost sings the notes, plaintively, longingly, lovingly. Then Bell moves along to the Scherzo, which he takes at an unhurried if somewhat subdued pace. Here, I thought he might have provided a little more vitality. Bell's treatment of the Andante is subtly melancholic without being in any way gushing, and then he paints all of the final movement's sweet strains with colorful characterization. Again, his chosen tempos take us on a leisurely journey through the Scottish countryside, with few distractions.

Does Bell's performance compete with my favorite artist in this music, Jascha Heifetz on RCA? Not for me, not quite. Bell is a degree too relaxed and too careful with the score, whereas Heifetz seemed to throw himself into the music. Still, Bell's fans will doubtless appreciate his work, and there is no questioning his earnest sympathy for Bruch's tunes.

The coupling, as I said earlier, is the Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, which Bruch revised in 1867 and which has become one of the staples of the violin repertoire ever since. It has an unusual first movement, a Vorspiel (or Prelude), leading directly to the second movement. This Vorspiel is like a slow march, with some ornamental flourishes along the way. The second-movement Adagio, a series of broadly sweeping themes, is beautifully melodious and forms the core of the work. Then comes the Finale, which begins quietly until the violin opens up with a vivacious theme in the form of a dance.

Again, Bell plays it safe with moderate tempos and smooth phrasing throughout. His violin tone is immaculate, and the orchestra, as always, is attentive and articulate. I enjoyed the Adagio best of all, with Bell giving it a wistful but never doleful air. With the Finale Bell again sounds just right, although I didn't think the music quite took flight. Thus, Bell delivers a reliable, measured, carefully constructed interpretation with little to fault and a good deal to commend.

For reasons unknown, the folks at Sony supply no timings for any of the tracks, neither on the back of the jewel box nor inside the booklet. No idea why.

Adam Abeshouse produced, engineered, edited, mixed, and mastered the disc, recording it at Air Studios, London, UK in September 2017. The first thing noticeable about the sound is that it's fairly resonant. Then, when the violin enters, the instrument appears well in front of the orchestra, while occasionally moving back toward it at will. I'm not sure why Mr. Abeshouse chose these qualities; perhaps with the resonance he wanted the smallish chamber orchestra to sound bigger than it was; perhaps by occasionally moving the soloist forward and back he wanted to emphasize the violin's part in the proceedings.

In regard to the resonance, I doubt that any recording studio would be this reverberant, but I've never been there so I don't know. Maybe the sound would be just right if listened to through ear-buds, in a car, or via inexpensive computer speakers; again, I don't know. But through my VMPS towers, the orchestral sound was often a bit too flat, too forward, too clouded, or too muffled for my taste, as well as a bit hard and bright in the upper registers. The violin, on the other hand, sounded mostly clear and vibrant, if sometimes, as I say, too close. In short, the recording produces an ever-changing sonic perspective, which listeners will either ignore or find distracting.

JJP

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

Elgar: Violin Concerto (CD review)

Also, Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1. Rachel Barton Pine, violin; Andrew Litton, BBC Symphony Orchestra. Avie AV2375.

American violinist Rachel Barton Pine (b. 1974) began her recording career with the Dorian and Cedille labels in the mid 1990's, which is about where I first encountered her. She continued mostly with Cedille, with an occasional detour to Hannsler and Warner Classics before going to Avie Records in the last few years. Whatever the record company, she has continued to produce well poised and sweetly polished performances, with some of the best sound afforded a violinist. The present disc is no exception.

English composer Sir Edward Elgar (1857-1934) was forever Elgar. His style is unmistakable, whether in his symphonies, his concertos, or his marches. The Violin Concerto in B minor, Op. 61 is no exception, its opening notes sounding like much else of Elgar's in its aristocratic, ceremonial manner. But then it moves into a slightly melancholy subject that more suits Ms. Barton Pine's music making, a "rich" and "soulful" mood as she describes it. Certainly, rich and soulful are apt descriptors of Ms. Barton Pine's style.

Rachel Barton Pine

More important, I think, is that Barton Pine does little to take our attention away from the music itself. She is not an idiosyncratic performer in any way, and her interpretation, while exceptionally expressive, is not entirely out of the mainstream. What's more, Andrew Litton and the BBC Symphony accompany the soloist as though they had done this sort of thing before. I jest, of course, as they probably have done this sort of thing a hundred times. Incidentally, Sir Neville Marriner was to accompany her but passed away shortly before the time of the recording. In a booklet note, Ms. Barton Pine gives her thanks to him for helping her prepare for and better understand the work.

Anyway, there is much to enjoy in Ms. Barton Pine's recording, including the sensitive way she negotiates the ins and outs, the cogency and mournfulness of the first movement (or as some listeners have suggested, the masculine-feminine dialogue); the ethereal qualities of the central Andante; and the tumultuous poetry of the final movement. Hers is a strong, virtuosic account of a sometimes underrated piece of music. Given the quality of the performance and the sound, this may be the best recording of the Elgar in the catalogue.

Ms. Barton Pine pairs the Elgar with the Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26 by Max Bruch (1838-1920). This familiar concerto is a work that in many ways imitates, or at least pays tribute, to Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. Bruch premiered a much revised version in 1867, and it soon became a staple of the violin repertoire. Bruch's lush, lofty, lilting melodies seem tailor-made for Ms. Barton Pine's elegantly honed technique so the whole thing comes off as movingly as anybody's.

Producer Andrew Keener and engineer Robert Winter recorded the music at BBC Maida Vale Studio No. 1, Delaware Road, London in January 2017. The sound is full and wide ranging, with the violin well centered, if a trifle close. The depth of image is fine, too, as are the frequency extremes and the dynamic impact. Moreover, there's a pleasant warmth attending the music, along with a touch of hall resonance and an overriding smoothness that compliment Ms. Barton Pine's playing.

JJP

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

Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto (XRCD review)

Also, Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1. Itzhak Perlman, violin; Andre Previn, London Symphony Orchestra. ARC ARCXRCD805, remastered.

Because the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto is one of the most-popular violin concertos ever written, maybe the most popular, practically every major violinist in the world has recorded it. So, there is a huge selection of recordings of it in the catalogue, most of them pretty good. Still, I have always found Itzhak Perlman's 1972 recording with Andre Previn and the London Symphony Orchestra as good as any and better than most. Now, we find it in a modern audiophile remastering, making it better than ever. At least, for those with deep pockets.

German Romantic composer Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) premiered his Violin Concerto in E minor, Op. 64 in 1845, and it would be his final large orchestral work. Audiences pretty much loved it at the time, and it has continued to be one of the staples of the violin repertoire ever since.

Because the Mendelssohn concerto is "nobly poised between romantic and classic" as W.A. Chislett writes in a booklet note, that's the way Perlman plays it, with an expressive romantic flair and a classic restraint and refinement. And unlike many competing versions on record, the soloist and the orchestra are on equal terms, neither actually dominating the other. Previn is a fine interpreter of Mendelssohn, anyway, and the LSO provide a warm, illuminating, and thoroughly captivating accompaniment for Perlman. Yes, you will find more vigorous accounts of the music, more vivacious ones, and more sweetly flowing ones, but you will be hard pressed to find one that sounds more totally attuned to the charms of Mendelssohn. It simply sounds "right," as fresh and scintillating as the day Perlman and his fellow players recorded it.

Itzhak Perlman

As a coupling, Perlman chose to do the Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26 by German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920). Bruch premiered a revised version in 1867, and it, too, like the Mendelssohn, has become a staple of the violin repertoire. Perlman and Previn play it in a traditional manner, with no exaggerated tempos, pauses, or contrasts. Perlman's playing is engaging, too, nuanced yet lively, giving the music all the enchantment and vivacity it needs. Moreover, the LSO were in peak form, providing Perlman a strong accompaniment.

The Bruch has a curious first movement, a Vorspiel (or Prelude) leading directly to the second movement. This Vorspiel is like a slow march, with some ornamental flourishes along the way. The second-movement is an Adagio, the heart of the work with its beautiful melodies, broadly sweeping themes, and graceful orchestral accompaniment. The piece ends with a Finale that begins quietly until the violin opens up with a vivacious theme in the form of a dance, which along with its lyricism reminds us of its Romantic origins, culminating in a grand climax. Anyway, as I say, Perlman, Previn, and the LSO do it up as well as anyone.

EMI producer Suvi Raj Grubb and engineer Robert Grooch recorded the concertos at Abbey Road Studio No. 1, London, in November 1972. Tohru Kotetsu remastered the original tapes at the JVC Mastering Center, Japan, for the Associated Recordings Company (ARC). The JVC team used meticulous XRCD24/K2 technology to assure the finest quality reproduction currently available for CD playback.

I had on hand for comparison another remastering of the same recording, this one also from Japan (Toshiba-EMI), though not in the XRCD format. The older Toshiba remaster seemed to me at the time marginally better, clearer and cleaner, than the regular EMI (currently Warner) product. Now, the JVC/ARC XRCD24 production is even clearer and cleaner than the older Japanese remastering, albeit at substantially higher cost. Is it for everyone? Of course not. It's for audiophiles who already love this particular recording and want the very best-sounding version of it. To that end, the JVC/ARC XRCD24 fills the bill.

Compared to the Toshiba-EMI product, the JVC/ARC disc sounds tighter, better defined, slightly more detailed, stronger, smoother, and fuller. Are the differences major? No, they're small but noticeable, at least in side-by-side comparison. Are they worth the extra money? That's up to the individual, not for me to decide. In any case, the sound in both versions revealed excellent balance, a superb reproduction of the soloist, well centered and not too far in front of the orchestra, with good response at both ends of the frequency spectrum. It's a fine recording made better by excellent processing.

You can find ARC products at some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/

JJP

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

Decca: Supreme Stereophonic Legacy (UltraHD review)

Various composers and artists. FIM UHD 088 (4-disc box set).

British Decca is one of the oldest, most-prestigious, and most-innovative record companies in the world, producing classical, popular, jazz, even country-Western recordings since the 1920's. To help celebrate Decca's accomplishments, the audiophile company FIM (First Impression Music) have put together this four-disc box set of Decca stereo recordings, remastered in FIM's 32-bit Ultra High Definition PureFlection processing. The recordings represent some of Decca's best work of the past fifty-odd years, and the remasterings reflect some of the best sound possible with today's compact-disc technology. Along with a sturdy clothbound box, a hardbound book of Decca history, and another hardbound book of production notes and disc sleeves, the set makes an attractive package for the music lover and audiophile alike. An expensive but attractive package.

FIM owner, president, and producer Winston Ma tells us in an introduction to the set that the Decca name goes back to 1914 when Barnett Samuel and Sons introduced a portable gramophone they called the Decca Dulcephone. Shortly afterwards, they renamed the company The Decca Gramophone Co. Ltd., and in 1929 sold it to Edward Lewis. It wasn't long afterward that Decca Records Ltd. became the second-largest record company in the world, calling itself at the time "The Supreme Record Company" (and, thus, the present set's "Supreme Stereophonic Legacy" title). Wilfred S. Samuel created the actual name "Decca" by combining the word "Mecca" with the initial "D" of their logo "Dulcet" (or their trademark "Dulcephone"). Samuel figured "Decca" would be a good brand name for the company because almost anybody could pronounce it in almost any language. Clearly, the idea worked and the name stuck. For a few decades in the mid twentieth century, a conflict with American Decca caused a minor problem, resulting in the parent British company calling their American product "London Records," but things have settled back to "Decca" worldwide for these past many years.

As I say, FIM selected the tracks from among some of Decca's best stereo releases. What's more, if you have already collected any of FIM's previous remasterings, you will recognize the selections from their previous work. This time, however, the FIM folks have reassembled them and rereleased them to their latest audio standards. Here's the track listing;

Volume One (UHD 089)
1. Glinka: Overture - Russlan and Ludmilla (Solti, LSO)
2. Grieg: Piano Concerto in A Minor - Movement 1 (Lupu, Previn, LSO)
3. Grieg: Piano Concerto in A Minor - Movements 2 and 3 (Lupu, Previn, LSO)
4. Granados: Intermezzo from Goyescas (Burgos, New Philharmonia)
5. Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake - Act 1, Valse (Ansermet, O. Suisse Romande)
6. Bernstein Elmer: The Magnificent Seven (Stanley Black)
7. Strauss, Johann Jr.: Voices of Spring (Boskovsky, VPO)
8. Strauss, Johann Jr.: Perpetuum Mobile (Boskovsky, VPO)
9. Loewe: "I Could Have Danced All Night" (Edmundo Ros)
10. Di Capua: "O Sole Mio" (Pavarotti)

Volume Two (UHD 090)
1. Verdi: Aida - Gloria all Egitto (Carlo Franci)
2. Albeniz: Castilla (Burgos, New Philharmonia)
3. Albeniz: Austurias (Burgos, New Philharmonia)
4. Rimsky-Korsakoff: Capriccio Espagnol (Argenta, LSO)
5. Chabrier: Espana (Argenta, LSO)
6. Mussorgsky: Night on the Bare Mountain (Solti, LSO)
7. Mussorgsky: Khovanshchina - Prelude (Solti, LSO)
8. Bernstein, Leonard: On the Waterfront, Symphonic Suite (Stanley Black)
9. Rodgers: "I Whistle a Happy Tune" (Edmundo Ros)

Volume Three (UHD 091)
1. Strauss, Richard: Also Sprach Zarathustra - Prelude (Mehta, LAPO)
2. Falla: The Three Cornered Hat - Act 1 (Ansermet, O. Suisse Romande)
3. Falla: Ritual Fire Dance (Burgos, New Philharmonia)
4. Verdi: Nabucco - Act 1, Gli arredi festivi (Carlo Franci)
5. Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake - Act 2 - Tempo di Valse (Ansermet, O. Suisse Romande)
6. Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake - Act 2 - Andante non Troppo (Ansermet, O. Suisse Romande)
7. Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake - Act 2 - Allegro Moderato (Ansermet, O. Suisse Romande)
8. Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake - Act 3 - Danse Espagnole (Ansermet, O. Suisse Romande)
9. Herold/ Lanchbery: La Fille Mal Gardee - Introduction (Lanchbery, ROHO)
10. Herold/ Lanchbery: La Fille Mal Gardee - Pas-de-Deux (Lanchbery, ROHO)
11. Strauss, Johann, Jr. and Josef: Pizzicato Polka (Boskovsky, VPO)
12. Steiner: Gone with the Wind - Tara's Theme (Stanley Black)

Volume Four (UHD 092)
1. Bruch: Scottish Fantasia, Op. 46 - Movement 1 Oistrakh, Horenstein, LSO)
2. Mozart: Sinfonia Concertante - Movement 1 (Oistrakhs, Kondrashin, MPO)
3. Mozart: Divertimento L. 136 I. - Allegro (Marriner, ASMF)
4. Mozart: Divertimento L. 136 II. - Allegro (Marriner, ASMF)
5. Mozart: Divertimento L. 136 III. - Allegro (Marriner, ASMF)
6. Mozart: Serenata Notturna K.239 I. - Marcia (Marriner, ASMF)
7. Mozart: Serenata Notturna K.239 II. - Minuet (Marriner, ASMF)
8. Mozart: Serenata Notturna K.239 III. - Rondo (Marriner, ASMF)
9. Strauss, Johann Sr: Tivoli-Rutsch Waltz (Boskovsky, VPO)
10. Strauss, Johann Jr: Blue Danube (Boskovsky, VPO)
11. Rapee: Charmaine (Mantovani)

I suppose there is some rhyme or reason behind the grouping of the selections, but what that reasoning is, I could not discern. The pieces do not appear arranged by composer or conductor or even by composition or recording date. My guess is that the set's producers merely grouped the various items according to personal fancy. In any case, the music is so good and so well recorded and remastered, one need only sit back and enjoy it. Of course, it means not being able to hear too much of one thing, so except for the Mozart it's mainly bits and pieces and short works. But it makes picking out and playing back favorite items for relatively brief listening sessions quite easy. Or you might find a favorite disc among the four and replay it time and again. Who knows.

Sir Georg Solti

In my case, having reviewed this music before from FIM, it made picking favorites easy because of familiarity but hard because I really liked them all. Nevertheless, let me comment on just a few of the set's most outstanding tracks.

Sir Georg Solti's conducting could sometimes sound hard-driven, even frenetic, but when he was on, as he was here in selections from Glinka (Russlan and Ludmilla) and Mussorgsky (Night on the Bare Mountain) with the London Symphony Orchestra, he was electrifying.

For a while (too long a while), Decca experimented with a recording technique they called "Phase 4." It employed the use of about two hundred microphones per instrument and resulted in a sound that was strongly dynamic, ultra clear, flat, forward, compartmentalized, and anything but natural. However, no one could argue that it wasn't spectacular, and that's what we get in Stanley Black's rendition of Elmer Bernstein's theme from The Magnificent Seven, recorded with the London Festival Orchestra. The recording has a clarity and impact I guarantee will impress almost any listener.

Nobody did Johann Strauss Jr.'s music as well as Willi Boskovsky, especially in his recordings with the Vienna Philharmonic, as we hear on Voices of Spring and Perpetuum Mobile. The grandness of the orchestra matches the grandness of the music, and the musical lilt is nigh-well perfect.

And so it goes, with each selection a little gem. Ataulfo Argenta's way with Rimsky-Korsakoff's Capriccio Espagnol and Emmanuel Chabrier's Espana is a joy to behold; John Lanchbery does up Herold's La Fille Mal Gardee better than anyone before or since; and Sir Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields are as polished and precise as ever in Mozart's Divertimento and Serenata Notturna, with sound that Decca (on their Argo label) never topped. It's all a pleasure to hear.

Along with the four discs come two hardbound books measuring about 7 1/4" square. The first one contains four paper sleeves for the discs, with each disc slipped into its own static-proof jacket. Then, there are 108 glossy pages of technical information on the composers, the compositions, the original Decca recording processes, and the FIM remasterings. The second book is 264 pages long and chronicles a history of the Decca organization, its major artists, its labels, its products, and just about anything else you'd ever want to know about the company. The books strike me as well written and lavishly illustrated with black-and-white and color photographs.

Insofar as concerns the sound of FIM's remasterings, it's obviously excellent. Although, as I've mentioned, FIM had remastered and released these selections before, they went back and replicated them over again using their newest 32-bit UltraHD and PureFlection processing formats. According producer Winston Ma, this technology yields the highest degree of fidelity possible from a standard Red Book CD, so you can play the discs back on a regular CD player rather than use some exotic equipment. (OK, I know what you're thinking: If you can afford a set as costly as this one, you probably already own an exotic audio system. But that's beside the point.)

Anyway, I sat down and compared the sound of these new remasterings with the sound of many of the equivalent FIM discs I had in my library. This was fun for a few minutes until I recognized that I was hearing the same differences with every recording. The sound of the new transfers is smoother than that of the older ones. Sure, there is tremendous fidelity in both old and new, but the newer discs take some of the edge off the often brighter sound of the older ones. Not that there is anything wrong with the older transfers; they are certainly better than the original Decca releases; it's just that the new FIM product is that much easier on the ears, detailed yet ultraclean, clear, dynamic, and effortless.

Naturally, which sound one prefers may depend upon one's playback equipment. If your stereo system favors the high end, you may prefer FIM's new UltraHD masterings without question. If your system is at all soft or subdued, you might actually prefer the very slightly more forward sound of the older FIM issues. Personally, I preferred the newer sound, but without the master tapes with which to make comparisons, I have no way of knowing which transfers are the more accurate. Let's just say that if you have deep enough pockets, this "Decca: Supreme Stereophonic Legacy" box won't disappoint.

JJP

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

Nicola Benedetti: Homecoming: A Scottish Fantasy (CD review)

Bruch: Scottish Fantasy; various short Scottish selections and various composers. Nicola Benedetti, violin; various accompanying artists; Rory Macdonald, BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. Decca B0021290-02.

Nicola Benedetti is a Scottish classical violinist, a child prodigy who has developed into one of the world's leading musicians. And by the look of her recordings, she is currently among the world's most-popular violinists, too. A single listen to her 2014 album Homecoming: A Scottish Fantasy (she is Scottish, after all, and performing with a Scottish orchestra in Scotland), and one understands why the world has fallen in love with her. Her playing is both sensitive and virtuosic.

The first thing Ms. Benedetti plays is the Scottish Fantasy for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 46, by German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920). Bruch finished the work in 1880 and dedicated it to the violin virtuoso Pablo de Sarasate. As you probably know, the Fantasy is Bruch's sampling of Scottish folk music, in this case a little over thirty minutes of such numbers, loosely tied together in four movements.

Although Bruch gives the notation "Grave" for the Fantasy's introduction, I doubt that he meant "funereal" as some musicians play it. Ms. Benedetti, however, finds just the right tempo and just the right inflections to create a mood of brooding introspection, followed by a flowing, pensive melancholy for the Adagio. Then, the rest of the work follows suit, with the Scherzo lively and full of fun; the Andante graceful and sweet; and the Finale aptly carefree and folk-like. With the BBC Scottish Symphony providing rousing support and a feeling for Scottish idioms and rhythms always foremost, the entire work comes off with high spirits and flair. While it maybe doesn't displace Jascha Heifetz's classic stereo rendering under Sir Malcolm Sargent (RCA), which still holds a special place of honor for many of us, Ms. Benedetti's interpretation is so affectingly charming that one must consider it a viable contender.

After the Scottish Fantasy, Ms. Benedetti provides a homage to her homeland, playing a series of brief selections celebrating her Scottish heritage, accompanied on some pieces by various other musicians. She begins, though, with three tunes for solo violin and orchestra based on the works of Robert Burns ("Ae Fond Kiss," "Auld Lang Syne Variations," and "My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose"). They are not what you might expect, though, in arrangements somewhat closer to their original settings, and they are entirely delightful.

And so it goes, with Ms. Benedetti sharing the stage with Phil Cunningham, accordion and piano; Julie Fowles, vocals and whistles; Aly Bain, fiddle; Tony Byrne, guitar; Duncan Chisholm, fiddle; Eamon Doorley, bouzouki; Michael McGoldrick, flute; James MacIntosh, percussion; and Ewen Vernal, double bass. Ms. Benedetti and members of the orchestra end the set with a traditional yet quite-touching rendition of "Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond." It's a lovely album.

An assortment of producers, recording engineers, and editors helped make the album at City Halls, Glasgow and Castlesound Studios, Pencaitland, Scotland in January 2014. There's a realistic sense of space, depth, and resonance to the orchestra, with Ms. Benedetti's violin nicely integrated into the orchestral setting, front and slightly to the right of center but not in our face. The violin tone is mostly realistic, too, with just enough steely hardness in it to remind us of an actual solo instrument. Midrange definition is more than adequate, as are bass and treble extensions, and balance is just a tad bright. Overall, it's pleasant, listenable sound; maybe not as transparent as some audiophiles might like nor as dynamic, but fairly easy on the ear.

JJP

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

Bruch: Scottish Fantasy (SACD review)

Also, Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto in D. Ning Feng, violin; Yang Yang, Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin. Channel Classics CCS SA 34913.

It happened again. Even though I probably listen to more classical albums every week than most classical-music fans buy in a month, I can't keep up with all the new artists out there. Such is the case with violinist Ning Feng on this album of Bruch and Tchaikovsky violin concertos. As a matter of course, I did not recognize the young man's name. According to his biography, "Born in Chengdu, China, Ning Feng studied at the Sichuan Conservatory of Music and London's Royal Academy of Music where he was the first student ever to be awarded 100% for his final recital. The recipient of prizes at the Hanover International, Queen Elisabeth and Yehudi Menuhin International violin competitions, Ning Feng was First Prize winner of the 2005 Michael Hill International Violin Competition (New Zealand), and in 2006 won first prize in the International Paganini Competition, following in the footsteps of violinists such as Kavakos, Kremer and Accardo." What's more, this is his fifth recording. Nor was I familiar with the conductor Yang Yang who accompanies Feng with the German Symphony Orchestra Berlin. So much for what I don't know. Now I do.

Anyway, the program begins with the Scottish Fantasy for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 46 by German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920). Bruch completed it in 1880 and dedicated it to the violin virtuoso Pablo de Sarasate. As I'm sure you know, the Fantasy is Bruch's survey of Scottish folk tunes, in this case over thirty minutes of them, loosely tied together in four movements.

The Fantasy starts off rather solemnly with an introduction marked "Grave," which is slow and somber, indeed, before giving way to the more familiar and frolicsome melodies that follow. Possibly the first thing one must comment on about this new recording is the extremely relaxed approach Feng and Yang take to both concertos. Every movement is slower than I can remember anyone taking them. OK, I probably have heard slower, but memory is not my best friend. In any case, the interpretations take some of the luster and excitement out of the music. Fortunately, however, the musicians replace any missing pieces with a heartfelt sweetness that is hard to resist. Bruch's Adagio, for instance, floats gently overheard, doing much favor and grace to the Scottish love song that inspired it. The Scherzo, despite Feng's gentle handling of it, has a charming flow that melds imperceptibly with the folk tune of the Andante that follows it. Yes, there is a greater degree of sentimentality to these things than one usually hears, but it's a delightful sentimentality no less. The finale is the most overtly "Scottish" of the Fantasy's music, and both Feng and Yang have a good time with it, although again at a reduced pace.

Feng plays the violin with a smooth, elegant touch, while the German Symphony Orchestra Berlin demonstrate a precise control and a sympathetic enthusiasm. While the results are not quite in the same league as Perlman and the London Symphony or Heifetz and the Chicago Symphony, in Feng and Yang's slightly more scaled-back way they are attractive in their own right.

As famous as the Bruch work is, it doesn't compare with the popularity of the Violin Concerto in D, Op. 35 by Russian composer Peter Tchaikovsky (1840-1893). He wrote it in 1778, premiering it several years later because the person he originally wanted to perform its first public appearance, the virtuosic violinist Leopold Auer, deemed it unplayable. As he does with the Bruch, Feng approaches the Tchaikovsky piece in a lighter, more lyrical manner than most other major violinists. The work comes off sounding closer to a love sonnet than anything else, surely a valid reading of the score, if losing a little something in grandeur and vitality along the way. It is a remarkably soaring, beautifully poetic realization of music that other violinists have done to death in showier, gaudier performances, some of the visceral thrills replaced by a milder but hardly less likable temperament.

Channel Classics recorded the music at Teldex Studio Berlin in November 2012 using some pretty impressive equipment: B&K and Schoeps microphones, DSD Super Audio and Pyramix digital converters, Audio Lab and B&W speakers, van Medevoort and Classe amplifiers, a Rens Heijnis custom mixing board, and Van den Hul cables. Certainly, the sound is realistic in the extreme in the two-channel SACD mode to which I listened, with a prominent bass, a detailed midrange, and extended highs. But most impressive is its dimensionality--its breadth, depth, warmth, and air. The violin seems a tad close to me, but there's nothing wrong with emphasizing the soloist. There are no harsh edges here, either, no brightness or glassiness. It's all quite natural and appealing without ever sounding dull or soft.

JJP

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

Bruch: Scottish Fantasy (SACD review)

Also, Violin Concerto No. 1; Romance for Violin and Orchestra. Guy Braunstein, violin; Ion Marin, Bamberger Symphoniker-Bayerische Staatsphilharmonie. Tudor/BR Klassik SACD 7188.

If the rather imposing name Bamberger Symphoniker-Bayerische Staatsphilharmonie sounds only vaguely familiar to you, you might know it better as simply the Bamberg Symphony; in 1993 the powers that be gave it the name the Bavarian State Philharmonic, and they have gone by both names, hyphenated, ever since. More important, if the name Guy Braunstein is also only vaguely familiar to you, he has been the Concertmaster of the Berlin Philharmonic since 2000, stepping down in 2013 to dedicate himself to a solo violin career. The present all-Bruch disc is his first major album as a soloist.

Braunstein chose to begin the album with the Scottish Fantasy in E-flat Major for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 46, written by German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920) in 1880 and dedicated to the violin virtuoso Pablo de Sarasate. The Fantasy, as you probably know, is Bruch’s survey of Scottish folk tunes, about thirty minutes of them, loosely tied together in four movements.

The Fantasy starts off rather solemnly with an introduction marked “Grave,” which is slow and somber, indeed (listen to the excerpt below), before giving way to the more familiar and frolicsome melodies that follow. Braunstein infuses the opening with a good sense of atmosphere and emotion. The Adagio that follows has an appealing melancholy, which Braunstein never over-sentimentalizes. He ensures the Scottish airs have a lovely lilt, and he sweetly captures the flavor of the Scottish countryside. Then he brings a zesty spirit to the central Allegro and a quiet longing to the Andante. While Braunstein and Maestro Ion Marin give us a grander Finale than we often hear, overall this is a relaxed, broadly comfortable reading, full of charm and good will. It’s quite delightful, actually.

Next up is the Concerto No. 1 in G-minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 26, possibly Bruch’s most well-known work. The composer premiered a revised version in 1867, and it’s been one of the staples of the violin repertoire ever since. It has a curious first movement, a Vorspiel (or Prelude) leading directly to the second movement. This Vorspiel is like a slow march, with some ornamental flourishes along the way. Braunstein seems perfectly at ease with the Romanticism of the music, yet in an easygoing, if passionate, manner.

The Adagio is famously melodious and forms the centerpiece of the work. In its broadly sweeping themes we find one of the most soulful of Romantic slow movements. Here, Braunstein plays wonderfully, capturing all of the music’s inner tensions and heartrending beauty. In the Finale Braunstein provides a necessary good cheer without overdoing things, without wearing out his welcome. Instead, his playing is as light and lyrical as the rest of his interpretation. This makes a most congenial, most welcome addition to the catalogue.

Braunstein concludes the program with his own arrangement for violin of Bruch’s 1911 Romance in F-major for Viola and Orchestra, Op. 85. It’s beautifully lyrical, reflecting an earlier age of high Romanticism in its gentle melodies and rich harmonies. Braunstein gives it the same cordial treatment he afforded the previous works on the program, integrating the music seamlessly into the proceedings. As in the rest of the album, Braunstein’s rendering of the Romance sounds beguiling, and a little sadly pensive.

Tudor recorded the music at the Bamberg Concert Hall, Joseph-Keilberth-Saal, Germany, in 2011. They created a hybrid multichannel/stereo SACD of it, and I listened to the SACD two-channel stereo layer. The first thing one notices is an excellent sense of depth, air, and space to the sound. Very impressive. The solo violin is out front, of course, but not too far and, thus, not bigger than life as sometimes happens in these affairs. The midrange sounds clean and smooth and reasonably transparent, the highs fairly well extended, the lows a tad lightweight but adequate. Transient attack is fine, as is ambient bloom. In all, it’s one of the better SACD’s I’ve heard recently.

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

JJP

Bruch: Violin Concerto (SACD review)

Also Korngold: Violin Concerto; Chausson:  Poeme.  Arabella Steinbacher, violin; Lawrence Foster, Orquestra Gulbenkian. PentaTone PTC 5186 503.

Arabella Steinbacher, for those who don’t know, is a German classical violinist who has won several important international prizes, recorded over half a dozen albums, and was a student of the Anne-Sophie Mutter Foundation “Circle of Friends.” On the present disc she puts her talents to work playing violin works by Bruch, Korngold, and Chausson.

First up is the Violin Concerto in D, Op. 35, by Austrian composer, conductor, and pianist Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957). Korngold wrote it in 1945, at the end of World War II, because he had vowed years earlier to continue writing only film music (think of Captain Blood, The Adventures of Robin Hood, and The Sea Hawk) until the Allies defeated Hitler. When that happened, he turned to the Violin Concerto and further work in the classical field. Needless to say, the Concerto became a hit with the public, probably for its combination of Romantic lyricism and lush melodies, although many critics couldn’t help thinking it sounding too much like the composer’s film music and dismissed it out of hand.

From the outset we can see that Ms. Steinbacher is going to be doing an all-out Romantic reading of the music, if one that is clean and free of excessive virtuosic baggage. It’s an appropriate reading, given that Korngold used material from some of his more exotic movie scores, like Another Dawn, Anthony Adverse, Juarez, and The Prince and the Pauper in the first movement alone. Not all critics may not take it seriously, but Ms. Steinbacher does. She infuses the piece with an earnest emotion, excellent structure, and superb craftsmanship that not even the copious eruptions of obvious cinematic references can diminish. Her violin tone is sweet and fluid, like the music, and the violin shimmers with delight in every phrase.

Next up is the little Poeme for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 25, by the French composer Ernest Chausson (1855-1899), a work he completed in 1896 and has since become one of his most-famous pieces of music. Almost every notable violinist of the past century has recorded it, so Ms. Steinbacher had her work cut out for her. Fortunately, the music sounds lovely in her hands, if not quite so emotionally charged as Perlman’s (EMI), which remains my favorite in this work. Nevertheless, Steinbacher brings a longing melancholy to the music and emphasizes the dark, brooding aspects of the Russian story Chausson used as a model for the piece.

The program concludes with the Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26, by the German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920). He premiered his revised version in 1867, and it has since become one of the staples of the violin repertoire. It has a curious first movement, a Vorspiel (or Prelude) leading directly to the second movement. This Vorspiel is like a slow march, with some ornamental flourishes along the way. It is here that Ms. Steinbacher is especially at home with the overt Romanticism of the score. While she may not exude the dramatic intensity we find in Heifetz’s classic recording (RCA), she does convey a warm, rapturous feeling as the opening music builds to its conclusion.

The second-movement Adagio is beautifully melodious and forms the core of the work. Here we find a series of broadly sweeping themes, with the violin aided by a graceful orchestral accompaniment. In this section, Ms. Steinbacher takes a backseat to no one, the notes flowing lusciously from her violin in endless delight.

The Finale begins quietly until the violin opens up with a vivacious theme in the form of a dance, which along with its lyricism reminds us of its Romantic origins, and finishes in a grand climax. Ms. Steinbacher plays it in a thoroughly charming and sprightly fashion and closes things on a befittingly sunny note. For lovers of multichannel sound in particular, Ms. Steinbacher’s SACD presentation seems an easy recommendation.

The recording date was July, 2012, and the venue the Grande Auditorio of the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon, Portugal. Although there is nothing spectacular about the two-channel SACD stereo mode of this hybrid disc (to which I listened), it is pleasantly natural and truthful. The violin sounds almost perfectly integrated with the orchestra, for example, not too far in front of it, not too recessed, and it appears most realistic in its tone. The orchestral sonics are also good:  ultrasmooth, slightly warm, nicely balanced, and lightly resonant. Orchestral depth is adequate, and left-to-right stereo spread is commendable, with the frequency extremes and dynamic impact modest yet comfortably lifelike.

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

JJP

Bruch: Scottish Fantasy (CD review)

Also, Serenade. Maxim Fedotov, violin; Dmitry Yablonsky, Russian Philharmonic Orchestra. Naxos 8.557395.

Like so many other composers, writers, and performers, Max Bruch (1838-1920) became mildly annoyed that people remembered him almost exclusively for one thing, in his case the violin concertos, and in particular the First Concerto. He did, after all, write hundreds of other works in a career that spanned over fifty years. But looked at in another light, I suppose it's better that people remember somebody well for one important thing than that they never remember the person at all.

Anyway, this Naxos disc aims to rectify the situation somewhat by presenting another famous piece by Bruch, the Scottish Fantasy from 1880, alongside a lesser-known work, the Serenade from 1900. The Fantasy is, of course, Bruch's compendium of Scottish folk tunes, over thirty minutes' worth, tied loosely together in five movements. Violinist Maxim Fedotov joins Maestro Dmitry Yablonsky and the Russian Philharmonic Orchestra in presenting both pieces.

Things begin rather oddly in the Scottish Fantasy with an introduction marked "Grave," which is exactly how violinist Maxim Fedotov plays it, literally. It's slow and solemn to the nth degree before giving way to the more familiar and frolicsome melodies that follow. However, Fedotov never really seems to let his hair down in this music, taking it all a tad more seriously than what some listeners may have in mind. Admittedly, I've become accustomed to the performances of Itzhak Perlman (EMI) and Jascha Heifetz (RCA), both of which are more joyous and outgoing than Fedotov, whose reading is somewhat more restrained and genteel.

It seems to me that Fedotov's approach to Bruch sounds better suited to the Serenade than to the Scottish Fantasy. The composer apparently first proposed the Serenade as a fourth violin concerto, which obviously never came off. Instead, we get a lyrical (yet long, almost forty minutes) set of generally Romantic themes, none of them easy to remember two minutes after hearing them. The work does not appear to have gone over too well with the public in 1900, incidentally, a public that was already finding music such as Bruch's rather old-fashioned compared to the emerging impressionism, expressionism, and such. Yet in Fedotov's hands the Serenade has a soothing lilt, even in the livelier sections. It may be entirely forgettable material, but it passes a pleasant time while it's playing.

Naxos's sound is in the big, warm category here, not revealing a lot of inner detail but most comforting to the soul after the stress of the day. For the record, so to speak, the Previn (his earlier one) is the best sounding of the three recordings of the Scottish Fantasy I had on hand, and the Heifetz is the thinnest and brightest. Still, nothing is so simple, because the Heifetz is also my favorite interpretation of the three. Oh, well....

JJP

Bruch: Symphonies Nos. 1 and 2 (CD review)

Michael Halasz, Staatskapelle Weimar. Naxos 8.570994.

Max Bruch (1838-1920) wasn't exactly renowned for his symphonies, even though he wrote three of them.  Violin concertos, yes, and cello concertos, choral works, and such. Consequently, we don't get many recordings of his symphonies, and whether you like them or not, it is instructive to have his first two on this disc, conducted by Michael Halasz and played by one of the world's oldest ensembles, the Staatskapelle Weimar.

Bruch started his Symphony No. 1 in E-flat major, Op. 28, in 1867, dead in the middle of the Romantic period of classical music. And it sounds it. The composer dedicated the work to Brahms, whose music obviously influenced him greatly, given that much of Bruch's first symphony reminds one of warmed-over Brahms.

There's a quiet beginning to the Allegro of the Symphony No. 1, followed by a big, theatrical central subject. Then, the Scherzo seems for all the world like something out of Mendelssohn's Midsummer Night's Dream, at least for a while before taking a turn at more original and more lyrical content.  Bruch marks the slow third movement "grave" for good reason, yet it is not entirely funereal. The final movement is the most innovative (and cheery) of the lot, pressing on with a lively rhythmic vigor.

Bruch wrote his Symphony No. 2 in f minor, Op. 36, in 1870. It's in three movements rather than the traditional four, three movements without a Scherzo; just two Allegros with an Adagio in between:  fast-slow-fast, much as a concerto might read.  The music is big and melodramatic, with shadings not only of Brahms again but of Beethoven and Schumann as well, yet with nothing as tuneful or engaging.

After listening to the album, I can understand why not many people have recorded the material before. The sad fact is, Bruch's first two symphonies are not very memorable or imaginative. The best I can say for them is that they are short, clocking in at about a half an hour each. Since I couldn't remember having heard either of them before, I couldn't tell you how well other conductors have interpreted them. However, I suspect that not even the most-resourceful conductor could do much more with the music than Maestro Halasz does.

Like the music itself, the sound on this 2010 Naxos album, recorded in 2008, is rather mundane and workaday, being a little on the dark, soft, cloudy, murky, harsh side. It's perfectly acceptable, mind you, just nothing to get too excited about, with little in it that impresses the listener much, little that provides the transparency, bass, or dynamic punch needed to bring it to life.

JJP