Karl Nehring’s Favorites of 2024

As we come to the end of another year, it’s time once again to look back and recall our favorite releases from the past 12 months. Given that 2024 was the year that Classical Candor went into semi-retirement, shifting at the beginning of August from regularly publishing at least two reviews a week to publishing reviews on a less frequent, less regular basis, we found ourselves with fewer releases to choose from; however, we still have been able to pull together a list of cracking good recordings for your kind consideration. Enjoy! 

Ravel: Valses nobles et sentimentales; Ma mère l’Oye (Complete Ballet); Daphnis et Chloé, Suites Nos. 1 and 2; L’Éventail de Jeanne: Fanfare. St. Olaf Choir; Minnesota Orchestra; Stanisław Skrowaczewski, conductor. VOX-NX-3037CD

 

Many classical music lovers of a certain age are no doubt familiar with Vox, a budget label that produced some real gems that provided the music lover on a budget an excellent way to expand their classical LP collections at a reasonable price. Appearing on the back cover of these new “Vox Audiophile Edition” releases is a highlighted statement affirming that “The recordings of American orchestras produced for VOX by the legendary Elite Recordings team of Marc Aubort and Joanna Nickrenz are considered by audiophiles to be among the very finest sounding orchestral recordings ever made” They certainly did a fine job on the Ravel recordings they did in Minnesota. The Polish-born Stanisław Skrowaczewski (1923-2017) became Music Director of the orchestra in 1959, a position he held for 19 years. He was then appointed conductor laureate, returning every year to Minnesota to lead his beloved orchestra. In all, his relationship with the orchestra stretched over 56 years. He was instrumental in their getting the acoustically resplendent new concert hall in 1974, the venue in which Elite Recordings was called in to record their complete set of Ravel’s orchestral works for orchestra, of which this new release offers a substantial sampling on one CD.

Fauré: Complete Music for Solo Piano. (CD1) Romances sans paroles (“Songs without Words”), Op. 17; Ballade in F sharp major, Op. 19; Impromptu No. 1 in E flat major, Op. 25; Barcarolle No. 1 in A minor, Op. 26; Valse-caprice, Op. 30; Impromptu No. 2 in F minor, Op. 31; Mazurka, Op. 32; 3 Nocturnes, Op. 33; (CD2) Impromptu No. 3 in A flat major, Op. 34; Nocturne No. 4 in E flat major, Op. 36; Nocturne No. 5 in B flat major, Op. 37; Valse-caprice, Op. 38; Barcarolle No. 2 in G major, Op. 41; Barcarolle No. 3 in G flat major, Op. 42; Barcarolle No. 4 in A flat major, Op. 44; Valse-caprice, Op. 59; Valse-caprice, Op. 62; Nocturne No. 6 in D flat major, Op. 63; (CD3) Barcarolle No. 5 in F sharp minor, Op. 66; Barcarolle No. 6 in E flat major, Op. 70; Thème & Variations, Op. 73; Nocturne No. 7 in C sharp minor, Op. 74; Pièces brèves (8), Op. 84; Barcarolle No. 7 in D minor, Op. 90; Impromptu No. 4 in D flat major, Op. 91; Barcarolle No. 8 in D flat major, Op. 96; Nocturne No. 9 in B minor, Op. 97; (CD4) Nocturne No. 10 in E minor, Op. 99; Barcarolle No. 9 in A minor, Op. 101; Impromptu No. 5 in F sharp minor, Op. 102; Préludes (9), Op. 103; 2 Pieces, Op. 104 – I. Nocturne No. 11 in F-Sharp Minor, II. Barcarolle No. 10 in A Minor; Barcarolle No. 11 in G minor Op. 105; Barcarolle No. 12 in E flat major, Op. 106; Nocturne No. 12 in E minor, Op. 107; Barcarolle No. 13 in C major, Op. 116; Nocturne No. 13 in B minor, Op. 119. Lucas Debargue, piano. Sony Classical 19658849882 4 

 

Here we have yet another example of an album that largely owes its existence to the COVID-19 pandemic. Debargue writes, “in 2020, when travel and concerts were disrupted by the coronavirus pandemic, I was able to return to one of my favourite musical pleasures: lengthy sessions spent sight-reading at the piano. This was the occasion on which I discovered the Nine Preludes op. 103 of 1909 and 1910. And I was immediately struck by the profound originality and mastery of these brief pieces from Fauré’s final period… The late-period style of Fauré’s was a revelation. Initially, my reaction was negative as I found myself dealing with scores whose harmonic language was beyond my grasp. To decipher Fauré’s ultimate enigmas I needed to draw on all the passion that I have invested in studying tonal harmony over the years… This voyage of discovery has provided me with a number of musical pleasures that have transformed my life both as a person and as a musician. I needed to go into the recording studio in order for me to be able to be able to share this adventure with my listeners.” A unique dimension of this recording is the piano itself. Rather than the typical Steinway, Yamaha, etc. that we usually encounter on an album of this sort, Debargue has instead chosen to record these tracks on an Opus 102 piano. As he explains, “I needed the sound of the piano to express a spirit of experimentation in the clearest possible way. The project found an ideal complement in my choice of an Opus 102 piano, an innovatory concert grand that has one hundred and two keys (as opposed to the standard eighty-eight) and a choice of keyboard that to my ears makes total sense in this repertoire.” Although of course Fauré would not have written any notes for any of those 14 extra keys, there does seem to be a clarity of sound to this recording, especially in the upper registers, that adds to the lister’s musical enjoyment. Debargue provides brief comments on all the works included in the set, making this box an excellent way for someone to take a deep dive into the world of Fauré’s music for piano. 

After Bach II. Brad Mehldau: Prelude to Prelude; J.S. Bach: Prelude No. 9 in E Major from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 854; Prelude No. 6 in D Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 851; Mehldau: After Bach: Toccata; Bach: Partita for Keyboard No. 4 in D Major, BWV 828: II. Allemande; Mehldau: After Bach: Cavatina; Bach: Prelude No. 20 in A Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 865; Mehldau: Between Bach; Bach: Fugue No. 20 in A Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 865;Mehldau: Variations on Bach’s Goldberg Theme – Aria-like; Variation I, Minor 5/8 a; Variation II, Minor5/8 b; Variation III, Major 7/4; Variation IV, Breakbeat; Variation V, Jazz; Variation VI, Finale; Bach: Prelude No. 7 in E-Flat Major from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 852; Mehldau; Postlude. Brad Mehldau, piano. Nonesuch 7559790077 

 

The American pianist Brad Mehldau (b. 1970) is best known for his work in the jazz arena, perhaps most widely as the leader of his own trio, but also for his work with other prominent jazz musicians such as guitarist Pat Metheny and saxophonist Josh Redman. However, his musical interests are not restricted to jazz alone. Early in 2018, some months before my old friend and colleague John Puccio invited me to join him here at Classical Candor. Mehldau released his solo piano album After Bach,which contains five selections from The Well-Tempered Clavier plus some Mehldau originals inspired by them. Fast-forward six years and we now are now blessed with After Bach II, which as you can see from the track listing above follows the same formula of selections from The Well-Tempered Clavier plus some Mehldau originals inspired by them. In addition, we also get to hear Mehldau improvising on the theme from Bach’s Goldberg Variations, a nice bonus. Veteran engineer Tom Lazarus is responsible for the superb sound quality, and Mehldau’s liner notes are packed with insight. To any lover of Bach’s keyboard music, this album is recommended without reservation, for it opens a whole new perspective on the great master’s music.

Silvestrov: Symphony for Violin and Orchestra “Widmung” (“Dedication”); Postludium for Piano and Orchestra. Janusz Wawroski, violin; Jurgis Karnavičius, piano; Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra; Christopher Lyndon-Gee, conductor. NAXOS 8.574413

 

The Ukrainian composer Valentin Silvestrov was born in Kyiv in 1937. In March of 2022, at the age of 84, he left his home city with his daughter, granddaughter, and a suitcase full of manuscripts to undertake the difficult three-day journey to Berlin. He found himself and his family refugees, victims of the invasion of their home country ordered by Russian leader Vladimir Putin. His music is like no other. At times it floats serenely, but at other times can suddenly shout as though having a terrifying dream or disturbing memory. But much of it seems to allude rather than refer, suggest rather than imply, playing with memories of melodies, suggestions of sounds, reminders of rhythms. There are composers who just have a sound. Sibelius, for example, even though his symphonies vary in style, has an orchestral sound that is easy to hear. So it is with Silvestrov. When I first listened to the Symphony for Violin and Orchestra that opens this album, my mind was immediately drawn back to the first Silvestrov compositions I had ever encountered. Three decades ago, violinist Gidon Kremer headlined a CD release on the Teldec label that included this very composition – “Dedication” – coupled with a work titled Post Scriptum for violin and piano. It struck me at the time as an amazing work, like nothing I had never heard before. I could only think that had Mahler lived maybe five or ten years longer, he may have written something along these lines. Maybe…  According to the NAXOS booklet, “when Gidon Kremer first heard his own recording of the work he spontaneously shouted out, ‘Death in Venice!’ And, after a moment, then closer to the truth, ‘Death in Kyiv!’... This music is like a Mass for everything that exists that is desirable, unattainable, or only to be arrived at in one’s imagination.”  Kremer’s reaction takes me back more than 50 years, back to my discovery of the music of Gustav Mahler, when as a young G.I. stationed in Germany I took a chance on a Deutsche Grammophon LP I found on sale for $1.25 in a PX in Stuttgart: the soundtrack to Visconti’s film Death in Venice, which featured several movements from Mahler symphonies. One listen and I was hooked for life. It was the same with Silvestrov ever since I first heard Dedication. This new release has meant reconnecting with something precious. Postludium maintains a similar sound world, but of course with the piano rather than the violin as the featured instrument. Note that neither of these two pieces is described as a concerto; indeed, neither features a soloist showing off virtuoso chops to orchestral accompaniment. From the liner notes: “Malcolm MacDonald has said of Silvestrov’s music, that he ‘seems to compose, not the lament itself, but the lingering memory of it, the mood of sadness that it leaves behind’.” It is music like no other; it deserves to be heard.

Bruckner: Symphony No. 7 in E Major (1863, Edition Nowak); Bates: Resurrexit. Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra; Manfred Honeck, conductor. Reference Recordings FR-757SAC

As is his custom, Maestro Honeck provides extensive notes on the music, not only its history and context, but also his approach to performance. Honeck observes that “throughout the music, Bruckner takes special care to notate specific expressive directions, for example the markings of ‘solemn’ or ‘misterioso,’ words that on the surface perhaps seem to have more to do with feeling than tempo. I view these, however, as direct clues to the tempo character, not only defining the expressive intent, but also signaling tempo modifications that would have been understood as part of the sensibility of the time. It is interesting to note that over time, these conventions would later come to be stretched to an extreme, leading Gustav Mahler to provide even clearer artistic instructions to the musicians, such as ‘don’t drag’ or ‘short break like a breath.’ Ultimately, I believe that with Bruckner, a balance must be found in honoring the expressive intent hidden within the musical text rather than merely focusing on pure execution. Just as Anton Bruckner himself remarked, ‘… many important things are not noted in the score’ …” Honeck leads his Pittsburgh forces in a powerful performance that is captured in convincing sonic splendor by the engineering team from Soundmirror, the Boston-based firm that Reference Recordings employs for its Pittsburgh sessions. Reference Recordings made its name based on its audiophile-quality sound (“Professor Johnson’s Astounding Sound Show”), so if they trust Soundmirror to record for them, you know that Soundmirror knows what they are doing. This is Bruckner played and recorded superbly. Resurrexit was commissioned by the Pittsburgh Symphony in honor of Honeck’s 60^th birthday. It is an amazing piece, 11 minutes of spellbinding musical excitement. It opens with a quasi-Middle Eastern sound, developing with brass, percussion, ultimately building into Telarc-level bass drum explosions that underpin passages of controlled orchestral fury. It is one of the most remarkable orchestral compositions I have auditioned in years. With a first-rate Bruckner Seventh, an exciting piece by Bates, audiophile sound, and extensive liner notes, this is a recording not to be missed. 

Pat Metheny: MoonDial; La Crosse; Corea/Potter: You’re Everything; Lennon/McCartney: Here, There, and Everywhere; Metheny: We Can’t See It, But It’s There; Falcon Love; Dennis/Adair: Everything Happens to Me/(Bernstein/Sondheim): Somewhere; Traditional: Londonderry Air; Metheny: This Belongs to You; Shõga; Raskin/Mercer: My Love and I; Dennis/Brent: Angel Eyes: Metheny: MoonDial (Epilogue). Pat Metheny, guitar. BMG 964026842

 

Guitarist Pat Metheny (b.1954) has enjoyed a long and productive career that has taken him to venues large and small all around the globe. In addition to leading his own ensembles, he has played with a veritable who’s who of jazz musicians. In 2021, he released his first overtly classical recording, Road to the Sun, which found him stepping back as a performer and forward as a composer, penning a solo piece for classical guitarist Jason Vieaux and an ensemble piece for the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet. Then in 2023 Metheny released Dream Box, an album of primarily lyrical, inward-looking music, most of which he recorded using a hollow-bodied electric guitar (which musicians refer to as a “dream box,” hence the album’s title). Although the guitar might be electric, the sound is smooth and mellow. At the end our review (which you can read here), we mentioned that Metheny was embarking on a solo tour – the Dream Box tour – centered around the music from the album. In March of 2024 I caught his concert in Columbus, Ohio – an amazing evening that saw Metheny perform on 6- and 12-string acoustic guitars, his hollow-body electric as well as other electrics, his 42-string Pikasso, and even his MIDI-controlled, solenoid-driven Orchestrion. At one point during his two-and-a-half-hour performance he brought out the guitar he plays on MoonDial, which he explained was a six-string baritone nylon-string guitar that had been custom made for him by his friend Linda Manzer. In the MoonDial liner notes, Metheny tells the story of how this particular baritone guitar came to be (it turns out that finding nylon strings capable of handling the unusual tuning he prefers was a challenge), how he came to use it more and more during the Dream Box tour, and how after the first extended part of the tour went to break, he headed to the studio so that he could “capture the magic of this new sound as quickly as possible and build on the immediate experiences of playing it every night for several months while it was all still fresh. The result of this journey is this recording: MoonDial.” Although the compositions are varied, the prevailing mood is remarkably consistent throughout the album. Yes, there are subtle shifts in melody, rhythm, and harmony, but the whole transcends its parts. If any particular tune stands out from the rest, it might be the Lennon/McCartney tune Here, There, and Everywhere, at least to these boomer ears, but even there, Metheny’s gift for improvisation and the sweet tones of the baritone guitar carry this music far beyond the familiar. As Metheny notes, “the feeling of this record follows the instrument’s nature. The central vibe here is one of resonant contemplation. This guitar allows me to go deep. Deep to a place that I maybe have never quite gotten to before. This is a dusk-to-dawn record, hard-core mellow.”  Hard-core mellow might strike classical music lovers as a strange way to describe music; however, it strikes me as a perfectly apt descriptor of some of the beloved piano music of Debussy. In any event, MoonDial is a beautiful recording, highly recommended to jazz and classical fans alike.

 Oded Tzur: My Prophet. Epilogue; Child You; Through a Land Unsown; Renata; My Prophet; Last Bike Ride in Paris. Oded Tzur, tenor saxophone; Nitai Hershkovits, piano; Petros Klampanis, double bass; Cyrano Almeida, drums. ECM 2821 651 4241

 

The Israeli-born New York-based tenor saxophonist Oded Tzur (b. 1984) has developed a distinctive tone and style of playing that gives his music an appeal capable of drawing in listeners who might not typically characterize themselves as jazz fans. Tzur studied Indian classical music; moreover, he was inspired to adapt techniques from masters of Indian instruments to the saxophone, enabling him to play microtones and slide between notes that the instrument would normally produce. This ability adds an extra sense of lyricism to his playing; in addition, much of the time the sound he draws from his instrument makes it seem as though he is somehow simply modulating some primal breath rather than blowing himself – as if he is the conduit, not the ultimate source of the breath, and thus the sound. It’s truly uncanny. We previously reviewed a recording by the pianist from this ensemble, Nitai Hershkovits, (you can read that review here). His energetic playing is a welcome complement to Tzur’s saxophone stylings, while Klampanis on bass and Almeida on drums provide solid and steady rhythmic support. From the sliding notes of Epilogue (can that really be a tenor sax?) through the bouncing rhythms of Child You, the plaintive call of Through a Land Unsown, the tender portrait of Renata, the heartfelt ode My Prophet, ending with the rowdy Last Bike Ride in Paris, Tzur and his fellow musicians deliver a spellbinding musical experience that should have appeal for a far wider audience than just hardcore jazz fans. 

Anna Clyne: Shorthand; Three Sisters; Prince of Clouds; Within Her Arms; Shorthand REDUX. Yo-Yo Ma, cello; Avi Avital, mandolin; Colin Jacobsen, Pekka Kuusisto, violins; The Knights; Eric Jacobsen, conductor. Sony Classics

 

It was back in early 2020 when I first became acquainted with the music of British-born composer Anna Clyne, who now resides in the Hudson Valley area of New York.  This new release features her music being played by the well-known superstar soloists Yo-Yo Ma of Sesame Street fame (just [half] kidding) and mandolin virtuoso Avi Avital, supported by the up-and-coming young New York-based chamber orchestra, The Knights. Clyne writes, “I wrote Shorthand in 2020 when we were in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic and when I was invited to write a piece for The Knights’ recording project, The Kreutzer Project. I was thrilled to compose this piece as I am a cellist, and I love writing for strings – I can imagine and relate to the physicality of the instruments... The title comes from Tolstoy’s comment that ‘Music is the shorthand of emotion. Emotions, which let themselves be described in words with such difficulty, are directly conveyed to man in music, and in that is its power and significance’.” From the opening phrases of Ma’s cello, the emotions do indeed pour forth from this piece, but with sincerity and power, not saccharine and schmaltz. The way The Knights reflect and interact with Ma’s solo part the highlights the beauty of both his playing and Clyne’s writing, both of which are sublime. The next work on the program offers a contrasting sonority as the solo instrument shifts from the cello to the mandolin. The plucking of the mandolin set against the contrasting sounds of the strings offers a fascinating musical sonority over the work’s three movements, each lasting a little over five minutes, with the movements being cast in the traditional fast-slow-fast concerto arrangement. It’s an utterly delightful work, an unexpected highlight – at least for those of us who never would have expected the mandolin, these days so associated with bluegrass music (sorry, I’m showing my USA provincialism here – but Avi Avital’s playing is completely convincing. Such a wonderful performance of such an enticingly entertaining work this proves to be! Next on the program is Prince of Clouds, featuring violinists Colin Jacobsen (brother of conductor Eric Jacobsen and a co-director of The Knights) and Pekka Kuusisto. It’s an intense piece that alternates between lyrical passages and almost violent outbursts from the soloists. Within Her Arms, which is scored for fifteen individual string parts, is a composition that is at once calm and intense, swirling with emotion that stirs the soul. The listener can feel longing, but also resolution as the sound of the strings rises and fades. The album ends with an abbreviated version of Shorthand, which this time around seems to be the perfect way to follow the emotional tone set by Within Her Arms. There is a sense of looking back with satisfaction toward what has come before, of accepting life’s losses, challenges, and blessings with equanimity. Of course, each lister will have their own reaction to this – or any – music, for such reaction is certainly subjective; however, I feel confident in making the objective judgment that Anna Clyne is a composer whose time has come, and that Shorthand is an album well worth a serious audition. 

Danish String Quartet: Keel Road. Turlough O’Carolan: Mabel Kelly; Danish traditional/Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen: Pericondine/Fair Isle Jig; Ale Carr: Stormpolskan; Danish traditional: Skomager Har Jeg Været; Sørensen: Once a Shoemaker; English traditional: Lovely Joan; O’Carolan: Carolan's Quarrel With The Landlady; Faroese traditional: Regin Smiður; O’Carolan: Captain O'Kane; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin: Kjølhalling; O’Carolan: Planxty Kelly; English traditional: As I Walked Out; Danish traditional: Marie Louise; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin, Sørensen: The Chat: Sørensen Gale Warning; Norwegian traditional: Når Mitt Øye, Trett Av Møye. Danish String Quartet (Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen, violin, clog fiddle, harmonium, spinet, voice, whistle; Frederik Øland, violin, voice, whistle; Asbjørn Nørgaard, viola, voice, whistle; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin, violoncello, bass, voice, whistle) with Nikolaj Busk, piano; Ale Carr, cittern. ECM New Series 2785 487 5884

 

Back in 2017, the Danish String Quartet released an album on ECM titled Last Leaf, a program of music based around northern European folk and traditional sources. More recently, they embarked upon a multi-year, five-album deep dive into Bach, late Beethoven, and their connections to other composers, the Prism series. With Keel Road, the four Danes have once again returned to music with deep roots in folk and traditional sources. As they explain: “We set out on a musical journey that traverses the North Sea -- for centuries, the main communication channel of Northern Europe, the highway and the internet of bygone eras. And even though known for its swift upsurges and strong gales, brave sailors would again and again travel the keel road, enabling a continuous exchange of goods, culture and music. The musical keel road of this album will take us from Denmark and Norway to shores far away: to the Faroe Islands, to Ireland and England. While folk music represents local traditions and local stories, it is also the music of everywhere and everyone. At the end of the day, our stories and our music remain closely connected.” You know it is going to be a lively, melodic, and downright fun album when you look over the list of compositions and see several by Turlough O’Carolan (1670-1738), the legendary harpist from Ireland’s County Meath. Unusual among the itinerant harpists of his day, O’Carolan drew influence not only from local tradition but also from then-contemporary European composers including Vivaldi and Corelli, intuitively seeking his own blend of form and folk spontaneity. Back in my old $ensible Sound days, I reviewed a few albums that featured music by O’Carolan, and I always found myself with a big smile on my face. I daresay that same reaction will come to those who hear his tunes as arranged for string quartet and played in such a lively manner as they are here. And that’s that appealing thing about Keel Road – the sense of spontaneity and joy that the musicians bring to these tunes. In addition to the more traditional compositions on the program, Keel Road interweaves compositions by DSQ members Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen and Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin that also convey a folk spirit in keeping with the overall mood. A brief excerpt from a field recording of the Danish traditional En Skomager Har Jeg Været (“A cobbler I was”) precedes Sørensen’s reflective tune Once a Shoemaker. Guest musicians Ale Carr (cittern) and Nikolaj Busk (piano), of the folk trio Dreamers’ Circus join the DSQ for a performance of Carr’s Stormpolskan. Keel Road should appeal to a wide variety of musical tastes: classical, folk, and world music to name a few. 

Ethan Iverson: Playfair Sonatas .(CD1) Fanfare; Violin Sonata – I. Andante-Allegro Moderato II. Blues (for Ornette .Coleman) III. Rondo. Allegro; Marimba Sonata – I. Allegro II. Blues (for Eric Dolphy) III. Cadenza IV. Rondo. Presto; Clarinet Sonata – I. Allegro II. Music Hall (for Carla Bley) III. Scherzo-Minuet IV. Rondo. Allegro moderato; (CD2) Trombone Sonata – I. Allegro moderato II. Hymn (for Roswell Rudd) III. Rondo; Alto Saxophone Sonata – I. Allegro II. Melody (for Paul Desmond) III. Allegro; Trumpet Sonata – I. Allegro II. Theme (for Joe Wilder) III. Rondo; Recessional. Ethan Iverson, piano; Miranda Cuckson, violin; Makoto Nakura, marimba; Carol McGonnell, clarinet; Mike Lormand, trombone; Taimur Sullivan, alto saxophone; Tim Leopold, trumpet. Urlicht AudioVisual UAV-5960

  

Iverson’s background in and love for both jazz and classical music is evident throughout Playfair Sonatas. As you can see from the track listings above, each of the sonatas includes movements designated by the typical European classical terms such as Allegro or Rondo; however, each also contains a movement featuring the name of a prominent jazz figure, such as Blues (for Ornette Coleman) or Hymn (for Roswell Rudd). In the liner notes, Iverson explains, "These dedications came about late in the game. I had scrapped a previous Adagio for clarinet, and wrote a new middle movement I really liked. However, was this ‘oom-pah' rhythm too much like one of Carla Bley's amusing ‘music hall’ pieces? Well, what if I dedicated the movement to her? That would fix the issue of appropriation. As it turned out, Carla passed away the same day I finished ‘Music Hall’ and devised the ‘dedications’ stratagem. The other five salutations to Ornette Coleman, Eric Dolphy, Paul Desmond, Joe Wilder, and Roswell Rudd came easily, for they had been in the back of my mind the whole time." Why are they called the “Playfair” sonatas? It turns out that like Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations, they are named for an actual person – in this case, Piers Playfair, an entrepeneur with a long history of curating, producing, and commissioning new works, especially at the intersection of jazz and classical music. When Playfair and Iverson became acquainted, they realized that they shared many common ideals about music. When the COVID pandemic forced Iverson to downsize and move his grand piano into a cheap studio space, Playfair asked Iverson if he needed help, and when Iverson admitted that he did, Playfair responded that he would cover six months of studio rent in exchange for six sonatas for various instruments of his choosing. The end result is what we have on this two-disc set: the Playfair Sonatas. Making the physical package particularly attractive is the quirky and delightful cover art by the famed New Yorker cartoonist Roz Chast. Delightful art, informative booklet, and rewarding music that brings a dash of jazz seasoning to chamber music make Playfair Sonatas an irresistible release for music lovers of the jazz and classical persuasions alike.

Bruckner and Bates: Orchestral Works (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Bruckner: Symphony No. 7 in E Major (1863, Edition Nowak); Bates: Resurrexit. Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra; Manfred Honeck, conductor. Reference Recordings FR-757SAC

Listening to Bruckner can be exhausting. That statement is not meant as a slight against its quality; in fact, it’s something of a compliment, for it is the very quality and intensity of the music – and yes, its length and oft-repetitious structure – that can make listening to it an exhausting experience. But exhausting in a positive, satiated way. Based on my experience of seeing his Symphony No. 7 performed in concert, it also seemed to be an exhausting piece for the orchestra to play, for when the last notes of the finale finally faded away (it was the closing piece on the evening’s program, which had opened with something much lighter, a cello concerto by Haydn) Cello Concerto, many of the musicians in the orchestra looked as though they had truly given it their all and had nothing left to give. Given the power and intensity these Pittsburgh players bring to their playing on this release, which was pulled together from live performances recorded over March 25-27, 2022, I would imagine there were more than a few exhausted-looking countenances.

 

As is his custom, Maestro Honeck provides extensive notes on the music, not only its history and context, but also his approach to performance. Honeck observes that “throughout the music, Bruckner takes special care to notate specific expressive directions, for example the markings of ‘solemn’ or ‘misterioso,’ words that on the surface perhaps seem to have more to do with feeling than tempo. I view these, however, as direct clues to the tempo character, not only defining the expressive intent, but also signaling tempo modifications that would have been understood as part of the sensibility of the time. It is interesting to note that over time, these conventions would later come to be stretched to an extreme, leading Gustav Mahler to provide even clearer artistic instructions to the musicians, such as ‘don’t drag’ or ‘short break like a breath.’ Ultimately, I believe that with Bruckner, a balance must be found in honoring the expressive intent hidden within the musical text rather than merely focusing on pure execution. Just as Anton Bruckner himself remarked, ‘… many important things are not noted in the score’ …”

Maestro Honeck leads his Pittsburgh forces in a powerful performance that is captured in convincing sonic splendor by the engineering team from Soundmirror, the Boston-based firm that Reference Recordings employs for its Pittsburgh sessions. Reference Recordings made its name based on its audiophile-quality sound (“Professor Johnson’s Astounding Sound Show”), so if they trust Soundmirror to record for them, you know that Soundmirror knows what they are doing. This is Bruckner played and recorded superbly. 

Mason Bates

Honeck likes to include music by contemporary composers on his Pittsburgh recordings; this time around, that contemporary composer is Philadelphia-born Mason Bates (b. 1977), whose Resurrexit was commissioned by the Pittsburgh Symphony in honor of Maestro Honeck’s 60^th birthday. It is an amazing piece, 11 minutes of spellbinding musical excitement. It opens with a quasi-Middle Eastern sound, developing with brass, percussion, ultimately building into Telarc-level bass drum explosions that underpin passages of controlled orchestral fury. It is one of the most remarkable orchestral compositions I have auditioned in years. Exhilarating! 

With a first-rate Bruckner Seventh, an exciting piece by Bates, audiophile sound, and extensive liner notes, this is a recording not to be missed. Besides this physical SACD (I auditioned the CD layer), it is also available on several of the major streaming services; in addition, it can be downloaded in a variety of high-resolution formats from the Reference Recordings website.

 

Recent Releases No. 72 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring 

Mahler: Symphony No. 8. Carolyn Sampson/Jacquelyn Wagner, sopranos; Sasha Cooke/Jess Dandy, altos; Barry Banks, tenor; Julian Orishausen, baritone; Christian Immler, bass; Minnesota Chorale; National Lutheran Choir; Minnesota Boychoir; Angelica Cantanti Youth Choir; Minnesota Symphony; Osmo Vänskä, conductor. BIS-2496 SACD

 

This recording of Mahler’s Symphony No. 8, a work for which to provoke public interest the organizer of the first public performances, an impresario named Emil Gutman dubbed “Symphony of a Thousand,” was made at the occasion of the final concert in the 19-year tenure of Finnish conductor Osmo Vänskä (b. 1953) as music director of the Minnesota Orchestra. He is now music director laureate, with Danish conductor Thomas Søndergård (b. 1969) succeeding him as music director. At Minnesota, Vänskä has recorded for BIS all of Mahler’s numbered symphonies except for No. 3; the following links will direct you to our reviews of Symphony No.1, Symphony No. 7, and Symphony No. 10. Those reviews were all positive, and this one will continue the trend. Vänskä and his forces, with the expert support of the BIS engineering and production team, bring out the details of Mahler’s complex score with both clarity and power. 

 

The only other recording in my experience in the same league as this one is the Wit on Naxos; however, that one is split over two discs while Vänskä’s release is conveniently contained on one SACD, which has the additional advantages of including a not only an SACD stereo layer for those with SACD players who can take advantage of the higher resolution but also a multichannel layer for those with multichannel playback systems. (My listening was to the CD layer, which was certainly impressive enough.) For Mahler fans, this new release is highly recommended.

 

Bruckner: Symphony No. 9. Manfred Honeck, Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. Reference Recordings Fresh! FR-733SACD

 

To be honest, this release has been on the market long enough now that it does not really count as a “recent release,’ but Bruckner and Mahler are so often thought of together that it seems appropriate to review them in the same posting. From the CD booklet: “Bruckner’s skills as an organist were enthusiastically received. From Notre Dame in Paris to the Royal Albert Hall in London, his artful improvisations were celebrated. It is said that Bruckner humbly replied to the many admirers of his organ playing, ‘I am not a musician, but a composer. What my fingers play will pass, but what they write will stand.’ Soon, Bruckner was called to Vianna as court organist and also began to teach at the conservatory. (Of note, amongst his most famous pupils was none other than Gustav Mahler.) It is from this point forward that Bruckner turned almost exclusively to the symphonic form.” 

 

Austrian-born Manfred Honeck (b. 1958) opens his extensive booklet essay with an excerpt from a speech delivered by the late American Maestro Leonard Bernstein: “Perhaps, after all, it is only the artist who can reconcile the mystic with the rational, and who can continue to reveal the presence of God in the minds of men.” He then goes on to reflect: “Long after I was fortunate enough to play Bruckner’s Ninth Symphony under the baton of Leonard Bernstein, this quote by Bernstein himself fell into my hands. I immediately and instinctively connected it with the music as Bernstein’s words serve as a clarion reminder of the role an artist can play in society and our relationship to the divine, the very same thoughts at the heart of Bruckner’s Ninth Symphony. It is in the Ninth that Bruckner invites us into the presence of God to experience the beauty of his world, while also facing the darker and violent abysses.” 

 

Although Bruckner wrote three Masses and a majestic Te Deum, an argument can be made that although he employed no text and never completed a final movement for his Symphony No. 9, it was in this work that he reached the peak of his spiritual and artistic achievement. Honeck and his orchestra deliver a powerful performance that indeed offers glimpses both of the divine and of the existential abyss. The recording was pulled together from live performances by the engineering team from Soundmirror, the recording firm that Reference Recordings employs for their Pittsburgh releases. They do fine work. One of my other favorite recordings of this symphony is also on the Reference Recordings (RR-81) and also features the Minnesota Orchestra, this time under the baton of conductor Stanislaw Skrowaczewski (1923-2017). It is an engineering marvel, not quite as dramatic in performance, although a bit more flowing and lyrical overall. It certainly is startling to discover two such highly recommendable recordings of the same piece with the same orchestra on the same relatively small label. In any event, the Honeck release is something special, well worth an audition by faithful Brucknerians. 

   

Giorgi Mikadze Trio: Face to Face: Georgian Songbook, Vol. 1. Mikadze: Satchidao; David Toradze: Not Easy to Repeat; Sulkhan Tsintsadze: Dolls Are Laughing; Shota Milorava: Same Garden; Jansungh Kakhidze: The Moon Over Mtatsminda; Mikadze: Nana; After the Tale; Giya Kancheli: A Magic Egg; Nodar Gabunia: To Nodar; Rusudan Sebiskveradze: Wind Takes It Anyway. Giorgi Mikadze, piano, arrangements; François Moutin, acoustic bass; Raphaël Pannier, drums. Peewee! PW1012

 

Georgian pianist and composer Giorgi Mikadze was educated at Berklee and has had experience playing with some notable jazz figures, which has of course given him plenty of experience playing American jazz standards. However, he found himself reaching a turning point om his musical path. “I started to ask myself, ‘Why should I play American standards when there are numerous melodies written by Georgian composers? I love the American Songbook – that’s how I learned to play jazz. But I would like to offer the world a Georgian Songbook and share all these beautiful melodies from my country.” A glance at the composers listed above should serve as a tip-off that no, this are not tunes from the Great American Songbook. Some classical music fans may recognize the late Georgian composer Giya Kancheli (1935-2019), whose music received a series of excellent recordings for Manfred Eicher’s ECM label. Some of the works featured huge dynamic contrasts for orchestra. A Magic Egg, however, was originally composed as part of the soundtrack for an animated short film in the 1970s, and here Mikadze has arranged it for his trio.

 

Mikadze explains that “Georgian classical composers of the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s were heavily influenced by the harmony and freedom of jazz music. Jazz was kind of taboo at the time, but the Georgian people would try to crack old radios to listen to [broadcaster] Willis Conover on the Voice of America.” He goes on to say, “I love the freedom that you have in the trio setting, especially when the musicians are super sensitive about every note. It has the intimacy of chamber music, but you can also achieve a massive sound. Besides, François and Raphael are simply amazing musicians.” The album includes a pleasant mix of tunes, all of them melodic and listenable. For a sample of Mikadze’s style, you can watch this video.

Bruckner: Symphony No. 3 (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

First version, 1873 (edited by Leopold Nowak). Gürzenich-Orchester Köln; François-Xavier Roth, conductor. Myrios Classics MYR033

One of the most fascinating yet frustrating bodies of work left by a major musical figure is the set of symphonies of the Austrian composer Anton Bruckner (1824-1896). There are the nine numbered symphonies (i.e., Symphonies Nos. 1-9), some of which exist in several different versions, having been revised by Bruckner himself and/or various others. In addition, there are two other symphonies, including a D minor Symphony, which he retracted, but which has been published and is referred to today as Symphony No. 0 (‘Die Nullte’) and an F minor symphony, which he rejected, but was finally published in 1973 and is sometimes referred to as Symphony No. 00 (‘Study Symphony’). Particularly complicated has been the story of his Symphony No. 3, as this explanation from the Hyperion website makes clear: “Of all the Bruckner symphonies, No. 3 is the most fraught with editorial ‘problems’. At least eight versions are known to exist: the original version of 1873 (not published until 1977); the first revision (1874, also unpublished); a ‘rhythmic revision’ (1876); a third revision, published in 1878 as the first edition (used for the premiere); a ‘Fritz Oeser’ edition of 1877; and two other versions from 1889, one edited by Nowak. Bruckner called No. 3 his ‘Wagner Symphony’ and it contains many quotations from the Wagner operas including the famous cascading strings from the Tannhäuser Overture.” You can also find some information about versions of the work in this YouTube video by music critic David Hurwitz, who favors the 1877 version.

What we have here is a recording of the original 1873 version. If you watch the Hurwitz video, you will discover that although he finds the 1877 version to be his favorite, he has good things to say about Georg Tintner’s Naxos CD of this same 1873 version, which Tinter recorded with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra in 1998 and Naxos released early in 2000. Now we have a fresh new recording by the Gürzenich Orchestra of Cologne, Germany, under the direction of French conductor François-Xavier Roth (b. 1971), who is perhaps most familiar to classical music listeners from his many recordings with Les Siècles, the period-instrument orchestra that he founded. However, Roth has conducted many other orchestras, and in 2015, he was appointed Gürzenich Principal Conductor as well as General Music Director of the City of Cologne. In addition, the Gürzenich Orchestra, which was founded in 1827, has been associated with the music of Bruckner for more than a century, the liner notes pointing out that “among all chief conductors after the Second World War, Günter Wand is remembered for having featured Bruckner’s symphonies most prominently; he made them the mainstay of the orchestra’s repertoire during the entire course of his long tenure as General Music Director until 1974… Under Wand’s successors Yuri Ahronovitch and Markus Stenz, the symphonies of Anton Bruckner continued to play a key role in Gürzenich Orchestra concert programmes.”

The notes go on to point out that in his first concert as Principal Conductor, Roth led the orchestra in Bruckner’s Symphony No. 4, and that he and the orchestra will be marking the Bruckner bicentennial by recording the complete set of symphonies, of which the present recording is apparently the first installment. It’s a good start, as this is a fine recording. For those veteran Bruckner fans who may be familiar with the 1873 version from Tintner’s Naxos disc, Roth’s version offers quite a different perspective on the score, with Roth being both livelier in pace and less inclined toward long pauses. Comparing timings by movement between the two conductors we find the following: I. Gemäßigt, misterioso (Roth, 22:59; Tintner, 30:39) II. Adagio: Feierlich (Roth, 16:20; Tintner, 20:40) III. Scherzo: Ziemlich schnell (Roth, 6:07; Tintner, 6:50) IV. Finale: Allegro (Roth, 16:15; Tintner, 19:21). There is much to be said for Tintner’s version, which brings a sense of majesty and wonder to the score; on the other hand, Roth’s approach sounds more natural, more rational, more refined. Devoted Brucknerians might well wish to acquire both. But for those who have never before heard this early version of the score, this Roth recording is the one with which to start. The Gürzenich players obviously are familiar both with Bruckner and with Roth, the end result being a recording that sounds just right, aided by excellent engineering. We are going to be flooded with Bruckner recordings in 2024; let’s hope at least some of them rise to the standard of this one from 2023.

Hans Rott: Symphony No. 1 (CD review)

Also, Mahler, Bruckner. Jakub Hrusa, Bamberg Symphony Orchestra. DG 486 2932.

By John J. Puccio

“Hans Rott wrote his First Symphony--filled with groundbreaking musical ideas and a unique vision for how the symphony could develop--at a time when his younger schoolmate Mahler was barely getting started and his mentor Bruckner was struggling through his middle period. Jakub Hrusa and the Bamberger Symphoniker present this masterpiece alongside words by Bruckner and Mahler, shining a new light on a work which deserves to sit at the centre of the symphonic repertoire.” --DG liner notes

Mahler described Rott as “a musician of genius...who died unrecognized and in want on the very threshold of his career.... What music has lost in him cannot be estimated. Such is the height to which his genius soars in...[his] Symphony, which he wrote as a 20-year-old youth and makes him...the Founder of the New Symphony as I see it. To be sure, what he wanted is not quite what he achieved.... But I know where he aims. Indeed, he is so near to my inmost self that he and I seem to me like two fruits from the same tree which the same soil has produced and the same air nourished. He could have meant infinitely much to me and perhaps the two of us would have well-nigh exhausted the content of new time which was breaking out for music.”

The question has always been: Did Rott’s one and only full symphony influence Gustav Mahler’s compositions to come, or did the young Mahler somehow influence Rott’s writing of his First Symphony? We’ll probably never know for sure, but Maestro Jakub Hrusa and his Bamberg Symphony players do their best to illuminate the comparisons among Rott, Mahler, and Bruckner.

Whatever, it’s a shame composer and organist Hans Rott ((1858-1884) completed only a handful of tunes before he died. It seems that after writing his Symphony in E in 1880 Rott tried pressing it on both Brahms and Bruckner, but they wouldn’t have it. Brahms even became annoyed with Rott's pushiness (and possibly with some of the symphony's content, which he felt mimicked his own work), telling him he had no talent whatsoever. As a result of these and other obstacles, Rott’s Symphony fell into obscurity (it was not performed publicly until 1989), and Rott himself became depressed, delusional, and hostile. The state locked him up in a mental institution while he was in his early twenties, and he died there a few years later.

The present disc opens with Rott’s Symphony No. 1 in E-major, which has always reminded me of Schumann in the opening, Wagner in some of bigger, grander passages, and Brahms in the Finale. There is also a goofy third-movement Scherzo, which does, indeed, sound a lot like Mahler, the similarities being much too obvious, it seems to me, to have been mere coincidence. I like Rott’s intriguing, atmospheric, and mostly pleasurable (if not entirely memorable) passages, but in the end, it sounds to me too much like a pastiche of ideas. Still, I do like that bizarre Scherzo and the overall Romanticism of the piece.

The symphony begins quietly, much like Mahler’s First, though with both a Wagnerian and Schumann-like flavor. Then, by the time the first movement gets moving, we hear a touch of Brahms. I have to admit that I have never heard the Rott Symphony played in a live performance, but by the measure of the several recordings I’ve heard of it, I have never been overly impressed. That said, Hrusa does a fine job making the opening sound more imposing than I’ve heard it before. Of course, whether that is good or bad is entirely in the ear of the beholder.

The slow second movement Adagio seems more appealing at its outset than it does in its development, which doesn’t appear to go anywhere. Not even Hrusa can salvage it, although his sensitive hand guides us through it with a gentle sweetness.

Thankfully, we are rescued by that eccentric Scherzo I’ve mentioned, a jolly affair that couldn’t help inspiring Mahler. Under Hrusa’s direction, it marches steadily forward, pauses briefly for a quiet middle interlude, then resumes with vigor in a series of anticlimaxes. Hrusa keeps it under control as best he can before barely reining it in at the end.

The symphony culminates in a lengthy grand finale, which begins as the symphony began--in muted solitude. Then it quickly builds up a head of steam, which Hrusa and his Bamberg forces play to the hilt, amplifying, reducing, broadening, inflaming, inflating, decreasing, and stretching almost interminably. Yet Hrusa is skillful enough never to let it become overly bombastic, just overly drawn-out.

Following the Rott Symphony, Hrusa gives us two more works, the Andante allegretto “Blumine” by Mahler and the Symphonic Prelude in C minor by Bruckner. Hrusa’s purpose, of course, is to show us similarities in the writing of all three composers, even if the comparisons cannot offer any definite proof of who might have influenced whom. I can say I liked both the Mahler and Bruckner pieces better than I liked the Rott, but that rather misses the point.

Producers Eckhard Glauche, Johnannes Gleim, and Sebastian Braun and engineer Markus Spatz, Christian Jaeger, and Thorsten Kuhn recorded the music in the Konzerthalle, Bamberg in 2021 and 2022. There’s a good sense of depth to the orchestra, noticeable from the very beginning, and enough hall resonance to provide a realistic ambience. A slightly greater distancing makes the sound a mite soft and cloudy, though, so expect a seat in an auditorium perhaps more than halfway back. It makes for big, sometimes massive sound that complements the big, massive sections of the Rott score but tends to leave the quieter passages too recessed.

JJP

Bruckner: Symphony No. 4 “Romantic” (CD review)

Christian Thielemann, Vienna Philharmonic. Sony 19439914112.

By John J. Puccio

Austrian composer Anton Bruckner (1824-1896) wrote his Fourth and possibly most popular symphony in 1874 but continued to revise it over the next dozen or so years. Conductor Hans Richter premiered it in Vienna in 1881, but that wouldn’t be the end to the revisions by Bruckner himself and by various musical scholars over the next hundred years. In the present recording, Maestro Christian Thielemann conducts the Vienna Philharmonic, using the 1878/1880 Haas edition.

Bruckner was a deeply spiritual man, as illustrated by his music. As he was writing the symphony during the height of the Romantic era, he subtitled the work “Romantic.” Then he helped listeners understand his spiritual and Romantic notions by using each of the symphony’s movements to represent scenes from Nature, from knights riding out of a medieval castle through the mists of dawn to the sounds of the forest and birds, to a funeral, then a hunt, complete with horn calls, and finally a brilliant culminating summation.

In the first movement Bruckner offers us a vision of Nature, and the composer’s several scenic landscapes remind us of how much Bruckner admired Beethoven and Wagner. Here, according to the composer, “...after a full night's sleep the day is announced by the horn.” Other authorities have argued that the composer wanted us to see a morning breaking, the mists giving way to dawn around a medieval castle, and an army of knights bursting out from the castle gates in a blaze of glory. Thielemann does a good job with that “blaze of glory” business and works up a good head of steam in the dramatic segments of the score, although he seems a little ponderous and ungainly in the more lyrical sections.

The second-movement is an Andante, in this case a serenade, musicologists sometimes describing it as representing a young lad's amorous but ultimately hopeless longings and expressions. Whatever, Thielemann does his best to provide the music with heart, perhaps more heart, more tender emotion, than we usually hear. It also appears slower than we may be accustomed to, perhaps accounting for Thielemann’s added sentiment.

Bruckner teasingly called the lively third-movement Scherzo “a rabbit hunt,” and clearly it should build up a suitable momentum as it goes forward. This, it seems to me, is Thielemann’s most-accomplished movement. It’s not so hectic and we sometimes hear and provides an agreeable contrast to the preceding serenade.

Bruckner opens the Finale with a heroic theme, then works his way into a more idyllic second subject, eventually reworking both themes into a closing statement. Everything begins rather ominously, with dark clouds overhead, leading to a thunderstorm. However, the storm soon breaks and gives way to variations on the symphony's heroic opening music and then a summation of all the parts. Now, if you’ve ever wondered what it means, not even Bruckner was quite sure. He said of it, “...even I myself can’t say what I was thinking about at the time.” Trying to draw a coherent structure from Bruckner’s disparate elements is a daunting task for any conductor, and Thielemann doesn’t come much closer than most anyone else. It still sounds like a series of climaxes, anticlimaxes, and still more climaxes. Under Thielemann the more gentle strands tend to stand out, which only serves to make the grandeur of the alternating passages the more problematic.

The real question with any popular piece of classical music, of course, is whether a new recording of it is worth investigating, given the number of great performances already available. For instance, we already have fine performances by Otto Klemperer (EMI), Karl Bohm (Decca), Eugen Jochum (DG and EMI), Gunther Wand (RCA), Herbert von Karajan (DG), and Georg Tintner (Naxos), among many others. So, does Thielemann compete? Well, of course, he competes. It’s just that if one does not own any or all of the aforementioned recordings, they should be given preferential consideration. Otherwise, fans of Thielemann will not be unhappy with his recording.

On an aside, the booklet notes I received were rather jumbled, with pages either missing or printed in the wrong order. No biggie, but a minor annoyance.

Producer Arend Prohmann and engineer Peter Hecker made the recording at the Salzburg Festival, Grosses Festpielhaus, in August 2020. The music opens very softly and at a normal output setting one hears an odd background buzz or hum. It disappears as soon as the music’s volume increases, but still.... From this point things proceed to sound like a typical modern recording, albeit with an extraordinarily wide dynamic range. Otherwise, it is pleasantly ambient, the orchestra magnificent as always, appearing rich and natural, if a tad distant, and with a little fizz to the edges of high notes.

JJP

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

Recent New Releases (CD mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Hilary Hahn: Paris
Chausson: Poème; Prokofiev: Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No. 1; Rautavaara: Deux Sérénades. Hilary Hahn, violin; Mikko Franck, Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France. Deutsche Grammophon  483 9847.

This new release from the talented American violinist Hilary Hahn is a delight from start to finish. Although the album title and orchestra might lead you to assume a program featuring all French composers, that is not the case here, for in addition to the French composer Ernest Chausson (1855-1899) we have also music by the Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953) and the Finnish composer Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928-2016). Hahn reveals her deep affection for and kinship with the City of Light in an essay in which she explains that in addition to her many other connections with Paris, her violin was made in Paris way back in 1865 by a famed luthier whose shop has in the 21st century been replaced by a convenience store. On a brighter note, she also reveals that she had long desired to record the Prokofiev, one of her favorite and most-performed pieces, but was waiting for the right combination of time, place, orchestra, and conductor, which she realized in Paris with Franck and the OPRF in June of 2019. The end result is truly lovely, well worth the wait both for her and for us. Those who might associate Prokofiev with spiky, boisterous music would do well to listen to this performance of his Violin Concerto No. 1, which is lyrical, lively, and lovely. Hahn describes the Chausson Poème with which she opens the program as “raw, lush, heartbreakingly beautiful… it takes my breath away.” Although I have in the past owned recordings of this piece, and enjoyed them, I had not heard the piece in many years until I auditioned this new recording, and yes, I found it to be much as she described. It truly is a marvelous work, well worth seeking out if you have not yet encountered it. The background story behind the Deux Sérénades by Rautavaara that complete this release is told in the liner notes, a tale that I will not relate here but will rather leave for those who might be interested to seek out for themselves. The music is quite enjoyable, but in truth, does not quite sound complete, which a reading of the liner notes will explain. All in all, Paris is a heartfelt and satisfying release from some consummate musicians.

Parallels: Shellac Reworks by Christian Löffler
Wagner: Parsifal: Closing Scene (Arr. for Orchestra). Max von Schillings, Staatskapelle Berlin (1926-27); Smetana: The Moldau (excerpt). Erich Kleiber, Staatskapelle Berlin (1928); J.S. Bach: Dir, dir Jehova, will ich singen BWV 452. Karl Straube, Thomanerchor Leipzig; Helmut Walcha, organ (1927); J.S. Bach: Gavotte from English Suite No. 6, BWV 811. Alfred Grunfeld, piano (1911); Chopin: Nocturne No. 2 in E flat Major Op. 9 No. 2 (arr. De Sarasate). Charles Cerne, piano; Vasa Prihoda, violin (1929); Bizet: Nadir’s Aria from Les pecheurs des perles. Koloman von Pataky, tenor; unknown orchestra (1928); excerpts from four works by Beethoven: Symphony No. 6. Hans Pfitzner, Staatskapelle Berlin (1930); Symphony No. 5, 2. Satz. Richard Strauss, Staatskapelle Berlin (1928); Egmont Overture. Otto Klemperer, Staatskapelle Berlin (1927); Symphony No. 3, 2. Marcia funebre. Hans Pfitzner, Berliner Philharmoniker (1929). Christian Löffler, electronics. Deutsche Grammophon 4839660.

This is a recording that truly blends the old and the new. Deutsche Grammophon has one of the oldest sound archives in the world, having taken great care to store their recorded material ever since the label’s foundation in 1898. Shellac discs (78s) that held about four minutes of music per side were the dominant recording format until the 1940s. A number of these historic recordings have now been digitized and restored, and DG recently teamed with German DJ and producer Christian Löffler, who hand-picked from this collection of digitized shellac recordings a set for modern reworking. Löffler is a self-taught musician whose productions combine elements of dancefloor techno and ambient electronica. He says that his music “is often described as nostalgic, it’s just part of my musical world. Sad music – if you want to call it that – has always been more appealing to me than happy music… I’m quite nerdy when it comes to trendy music production techniques. I’m very forward thinking and always interested in new technologies. But many of my trademark sounds come from vintage synthesizers and old effects devices. I’m just trying to catch the best of any time period to get the best possible result. My aspiration with this project was to handle the music with all due respect. That is something I always do when I work with other people’s music, be it a remix or collaboration. My aim for Parallels was to bring the soul of my own music into these original pieces. I also wanted to keep some parts of the original music almost untouched, to give the listener a better understanding of the original material in the context of its new ‘home’.” Yes, his description sounds a bit bizarre, but the end result is fascinating, hypnotic, and haunting. Electronic sounds, acoustic sounds, voices from nearly a century ago rising from the mix -- this is a recording that can be enjoyed both in casual and concentrated listening modes.

Refraction
Alexander Woods, violin; Rex Woods, piano; Aubrey Smith Woods, violin. MSR Classics MS 1689.

As you might guess from the names of the performers, this album of music for violin is a family affair, presented by violinist Alexander Woods along with his pianist father, Rex Woods, and his violinist wife, Aubrey Smith Woods. (Perhaps I am being overly sensitive, but I did find it rather odd that on both the front and back covers the three names are printed in three distinctly rank-ordered font styles: ALEXANDER WOODS, REX WOODS, Aubrey Smith Woods. Hmmmm…)  The four composers are a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar: Dvorak, Asplund, Mozart, and Thorndock. As the liner notes explain, “although the violin itself has remained virtually unchanged for centuries, music composed for the instrument has undergone numerous and vivid transformations, shaped and developed by varied circumstances, styles and innovations. Like a light beam passing through a prism. Works written for the violin have, over time, refracted into a broad stylistic array of vibrant compositional perspectives. This album mingles canonic violin works from the past with recent compositions that explore this variegated play, engaging with the rich history of violin music and performance through myriad lenses.” The album opens with Four Romantic Pieces from Dvorak for violin and piano, which are played here most romantically and enjoyably, a fine way to start the program. Unfortunately, the next composition, One Eternal Round for two violins by Canadian-American composer Christian Asplund (b. 1964), does not fall nearly as naturally on the ear as the others included in this set. Although it is not aggressively harsh or dissonant as some contemporary music can be, to these ears at least, it simply lacked any real appeal. YMMV. But then the players move back to familiar ground with Mozart’s Violin Sonata No. 26, a refreshing drink of cool, clear water after the dryness of the Asplund. The final composition, A Crust of Azure by American composer Neil Thorndock (b. 1977), is said in the liner notes to be “influenced by the impression of music coming down from the sky, ringing like reverberations from a bell tower. The evocative movement titles [I. Tremulous Whirl, II. Refraction of Sky, III. Lavender Shroud] allude to the atmospheric colors, light effects and sensations that descend from the sky’s ‘crust of azure.’”  It truly is a colorful piece, lively and imaginative, well worth an audition for fans of the violin who are seeking interesting new repertoire. With excellent engineering and helpful liner notes, MSR Classics has done a first-class job with this release.    

Max Richter: Voices 2
Max Richter, piano, keyboards, organ, synthesizer; Mari Samuelsson, solo violin; Ian Burdge, solo cello; Camilla Pay, harp; Robert Ziegler, conductor; Tenebrae Choir; various sopranos and altos plus a number of violin, viola, cello, and double bass players. Decca B00332480-02.

Although Richter’s previous release, Voices (reviewed ) spotlighted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, including spoken recitations of the text, Voices 2 is exclusively musical, with no textual recitations. According to Richter, Voices 2 “opens up a meditative instrumental musical space to consider the ideas raised by the first record. The music is less about the world we know already and more about the hope for the future we have yet to write.” Those familiar with Richter’s music will know what to expect: music that is on the one hand relatively simple and straightforward in terms of its melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic construction, yet on the other hand, rich and evocative in terms of its instrumentation, sonority, and emotional resonance. There are some striking sounds to be heard from Richter’s various keyboard instruments both acoustic and electronic, plus some particularly notable musical contributions by Mari Samuelsson on violin and Ian Burdge on cello. And no, you need not have listened to Voices to enjoy its successor, which is quite enjoyable on its own terms. 

Lento Religioso
Berg: Piano Sonata op. 1 (arr. Wijnand van Klaveren); Korngold: Lento Religioso from Symphonic Serenade; Bruckner; Adagio from String Quintet; Bridge: Lament for string orchestra (for Catherine, aged 9, “Lusitania” 1915); Lekeu: Adagio pour quatuor d’orchestre; Wagner: Prelude from Tristan und Isolde; Strauss; Prelude from Capriccio. Candida Thompson, Amsterdam Sinfonietta. Channel Classics CCS 36620.

As a glance at the titles of the works included in this generously filled (77:41) disc should suggest, this release features music from the more serious, somber pages of the classical music catalog. That is not to say, however, that listening to it is an emotional downer, as this is music of great depth and exquisite beauty, played with sensitivity by this relatively small string orchestra. Some of the selections are scaled down (e.g., the Wagner), some are scaled up (e.g., the Berg and the Bruckner), and some were originally intended for an ensemble of about this size. The engineering is first-rate, with clean string tone and a believable soundfield. All in all, an interesting program of some works a bit off the beaten path that should be especially appealing to those who appreciate music of a serious, reflective, but nonetheless aesthetically engaging nature.

Lindberg: The Waves of Wollongong
Also, Liverpool Lullabies; 2017. The New Trombone Collective; Evelyn Glennie, percussion; Christian Lindberg, trombone and conductor, Antwerp Symphony Orchestra. BIS-2148 SACD.

If I had to come up with a one-word description of this release by the Swedish composer, trombonist, and conductor Christian Lindberg (b. 1958) it would be “robust.” Or maybe “outgoing.” Or possibly even “swaggering.” It most certainly would not be “reticent” or “tentative.” The opening piece, The Waves of Wollongong (the title refers to waves the composer had experienced in Wollongong, Australia) features the nine trombones (three each alto, tenor, and bass) of The New Trombone Collective making mighty waves of sound along with the orchestra, while the second piece, Liverpool Lullabies, seems hardly the sort of music to little ones to sleep as Lindberg on trombone and the amazing Ms. Glennie on percussion give off plenty of sparks with their energetic playing. The final piece, 2017, was composed by Lindberg during that turbulent, discouraging, frightening year as a reaction to the 2016 U.S. presidential election and its disturbing aftermath, and is dedicated to the journalist Rachel Maddow. Needless to say, it is not a cheerful piece, but it is musically engaging. As per their usual standard, the BIS engineering team has captured this robust music in robust, dynamic, swaggering sound that will tickle your tweeters and waggle your woofers.

Vaughan Williams: Symphonies Nos. 4 and 6
Sir Antonio Pappano, London Symphony Orchestra. LSO Live SACD LSO0867.

Vaughan Williams may well be the most underrated symphonic composer. For my money, his nine rank right up there with the best, and when it comes to the heart of his symphonic output, Symphonies Nos. 3, 4, 5, and 6, I can’t think of any composer whose 4-6 I would rate above RVW’s – not Mahler, not Bruckner, not Sibelius, and no, not even the immortal Beethoven. Of those four RVW symphonies, the odd-numbered are primarily lyrical and peaceful, while the two even-numbered symphonies, especially No.4, are much more brash and assertive. Pappano and the LSO hold nothing back, with the opening notes of No. 4 bursting forth with startling ferocity. This bold beginning sets the tone for the entire disc, which presents both symphonies forcefully and energetically. My only quibble is with some harshness in the upper strings; to be honest, I am not sure how much is the engineering or how much can be attributed to the vigor of the performance. My first choice in both symphonies has been the Slatkin recordings from his RCA boxed set (now distributed by Sony Music at a bargain price), but for those looking for a single disc of these two remarkable 20th century masterpieces, this new release from Pappano and the LSO is a top choice. Highly recommended.

KWN