Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Piano Works

 by Bill Heck

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Piedigrotta 1924,  Op. 32; Alghe, Op. 12; I naviganti, Op. 13; Cielo di settembre, Op. 1; Calma (A Giramonte); Terrazze; Le stagioni, Op. 33. Adriano Murgia, piano. Piano Classics PCL10347

Sharp-eyed readers may recall my review some months ago of Platero y Yo, a series of vignettes for solo guitar composed by Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco, as played by Niklas Johansen. The review here illustrates the old saying that “one thing leads to another”, at least in the musical world: my interest in those works for guitar led me to the current release of the same composer’s music for solo piano.

Let’s start with a quick note about Castelnuovo-Tedesco, and please excuse a bit of repetition if you’ve read the Platero review. Born in Italy in 1895, he studied music early in the 20^th century and quickly became fascinated with the work of Debussy, who remained one of the major influences on Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s own path. He later was influenced by the contrapuntal techniques of mentors like Ildebrando Pizzeti (whose name is the basis of one of the works on this album). By the 1930’s, he was a rising star internationally, developing musical relationships with figures such as Andres Segovia, Jascha Heifetz, and Gregor Piatigorsky.

In 1939, however, he fled the racial (antisemitic)  policies of Mussolini’s fascist Italy. His reputation inspired prominent American musicians to support his entry into the US and then to relaunch his career, first as a piano soloist and then as a composer. While he continued to compose in the classical tradition, he became better known (and presumably better compensated) for his work on film scores. He also taught composition, with a significant number of subsequently famous musicians in his classes. Castelnuovo-Tedesco passed away in 1968.

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco

Contemporary listeners might be forgiven for asking why, if Castelnuovo-Tedesco was so great, has his music passed into obscurity today? Well, first, obscurity is not quite the right word. Although one would hardly call him well-known, a good number of recordings of his music are out there, especially of works for orchestra, including two piano concertos; for guitar; and for solo piano. More generally, though, I've noticed perhaps a little more interest in the works of lesser-known composers lately, particularly with the rise of independent record labels. And, if I may be allowed a little speculation, I suspect that several factors may have played a role in his relative eclipse, including not only the tendency of both concert promoters and attendees to go with safe, well-known choices but also the nature of his music. His compositions are not the sort that produce shouts of praise and standing ovations in concerts, nor are they the subject of music appreciation lectures. Whatever the causes, although Castelnuovo-Tedesco may not be top of mind for many listeners, I think that he's one of those composers whose music, once given a chance, turns out to be interesting and enjoyable, exhibiting some real depth.

Consider, for instance the first movement of Piedigrotta, the Tarantella scura (“dark tarantella”). The folk dance zips right along at first as we think it should, but storm clouds intrude in the form of odd bass lines and strange harmonies. This is not a simple country celebration, but a more emotionally complex occasion.

Or take the Fantasia e fuga sul nombre di Ildebrando Pizzetti: the music keeps trying to be a straightforward fugue, but is frequently distracted, so to speak, with all sorts of musical exclamations and interludes, not in a bad way but in imaginative variety.

Meanwhile, Murgia’s playing is fine. He conveys the music with a nice mix of control and freedom; I might have a few minor quibbles here and there but distracting mannerisms are nowhere to be found. One might ask how his performances compare to those on other available recordings, but there’s a snag: the composer's prodigious output means that pianists recording his works won’t often choose the same ones. For example, David Witten’s list of tracks overlaps this one only with the Piedigrotta 1924; same for the fine album by Mark Bennington; that of Jordi Masó has only the brief I naviganti in common; and so on. I certainly haven’t heard anywhere near every album of Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s music for solo piano, not to mention albums on which his compositions appear alongside works by other composers. But to my ear Murgia’s performances hold their own and he does have the benefit of Piano Classics engineering for superb sound. All in all, this album is a great place to start for those interested in exploring Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s work.

Bill Heck's Favorites of 2025

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

 

 

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

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

Anna Clyne: Abstractions. Naxos 8.574620

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

Platero y Yo

by Bill Heck

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

This recording will be available October 3, 2025

I’ve been searching for an eye (or ear) catching way to start this review: a great metaphor, a “just right” comparison – hey, I’d settle for a clever phrase. But I’ve come up empty, so I’ll put it simply: this release is a treat. Interesting, wonderful music for solo guitar, a series of short (a few minutes long) interludes based on verses from a lovely prose/poem, superbly played and recorded, and all wrapped up in an excellent package. Let's look at each of these aspects.

We’ll start with the poem, Platero y Yo (Platero and I), by one of Spain’s most famous modern poets, Juan Ramón Jiménez, winner of the Nobel prize for literature in 1956. The 138 sketches in this monumental work are meditations or reflections on life, expressed as directed to Platero, a donkey who is more of a pet than a beast of burden. Lest this sound like some sort of weird fantasy, think of pet owners who say, or at least think, things like “Ah Fido, isn’t this a beautiful day.” Obviously Fido does not answer, nor does Platero; this literary device simply allows the poet to express himself naturally, exploring a range of emotions and a vast store of memories of a childhood in rural Andalusia.

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco

Castelnuovo-Tedesco was an Italian composer who became friends with Andrés Segovia and ended up composing quite a bit of “Spanish“ music for the guitar. (Readers may recall mention of Castelnuovo-Tedesco in my earlier review of Roberto Moronn Peréz's most recent album of music written for Segovia.) He was greatly taken with Jiménez’s literatry work, eventually composing 28 short pieces, each based on a passage from Platero. While this derivation qualifies the music as programmatic, and reading the associated sketches will deepen your understanding and appreciation of the music, be assured that you can listen to and enjoy the pieces without reference to the writings.

So what is the music like? I really hate that kind of question, as it is so difficult to convey musical experience with written words; still, convention demands that I try. All the pieces certainly are tonal and, as you might suppose, most seem introspective while conveying quite a range of emotions. We wander from sheer joy to deep grieving, from sad commentary on the human condition to wonder at the delights of nature. You might think of the individual pieces as mini-tone poems, all eminently suited to the guitar.

Niklas Johansen

The performances here are, in a word, superb. Johansen certainly is no novice, with a number of recordings and awards to his credit. Moreover, it is obvious, both from his notes in the accompanying booklet and from his playing, that he cares deeply about this music. Technically, the performances are  fully adept, with never any sense of strain. But more than that, Johansen conveys emotional nuance without overemphasis, energy when needed and quiet introspection when called for, not drawing attention to himself but letting the music speak through his instrument.

Then there’s the recording: the booklet informs us that the album was recorded in Fredensborg Palace Chapel in Denmark by special permission of King Frederik X. In this case, the king certainly has done a public service: the acoustics of the chapel are reverberant but not muddy, suiting the music very well, and the engineers have captured the sound wonderfully.

Usually, my reviews are agnostic as to what format a listener might choose: streaming the music, downloading it, buying a CD, or whatever. In this case, however, I really do prefer the two CD set -- it's not just disks, it’s a full package. The attractive outer box contains a similarly attractive inner foldout holding the two CDs (securely but easily extractable) with a handy track listing between them. The box also contains a serious booklet: 72 pages of interesting information about the guitarist, the poet, the composer, the composition itself, the recording process, and even the recording site, all nicely illustrated with photos. And wait, there's more: English translations of all of the 28 sketches on which the musical compositions are based are included, each with an original black-and-white illustration of the setting. Although I mentioned earlier that the music can stand alone without reference to the poems, surely most listeners will want to read these evocative words.

Platero y Yo has been recorded previously, of course. I certainly have not undertaken a comprehensive survey, but I did a few a quick comparisons. Catherine Liolios’s 2017 set, for instance, is good, but I find it a bit subdued compared to Johansen’s more energetic and expressive approach (and her set, along with a couple of others that I tried to locate, seems to be unavailable, at least in the CD version). I also ruled out multiple recordings that include spoken narration (in several different languages): I prefer to read the relevant passages if I’m in the mood to do so, and otherwise to simply listen to the music standing alone; YMMV.

All in all, as I said in the first paragraph, this release is a treat. It’s easy to recommend that you treat yourself to this lovely music as well.

One more quick note: guitarist Niklas Johansen has recorded a series of videos about this project. As of this writing, the first has been released on YouTube here; more are to follow.

Andrés Segovia Archive: Grand Finale

by Bill Heck

Alexandre Tansman: Cavatina; Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Sonata; Hans Haug: Alba; Joan Manén: Fantasia-Sonata; Federico Mompou: Suite Compostelana. Roberto Moronn Pérez, guitar. Reference Recordings Fresh FR-759

This is the fourth and apparently final album in a series in which each album contains works by various composers commissioned by or dedicated to Andrés Segovia. JJP reviewed the second and third albums in the series.

The first three albums in the series featured works found in Segovia’s collected papers but, as far as we know, never recorded by him; this album features works that Segovia did record. The performances here, though, follow the original manuscripts from the composers minus any changes that Segovia might have made for performance.

It’s also worth noting that while the compositions are all from the 20th century, they remain within the tonal tradition, perhaps best characterized as post-romantic; nothing atonal or twelve-tone here.

It seems only fair to prospective listeners to start with a warning: the fact that Segovia recorded a work does not mean that said performance is always easy to find or even available. His recording career stretched from 1949 to 1977; since then, his recordings have been package, repackaged, and re-repackaged. Moreover, the original releases mostly were recitals rather than being focused on any particular composer (excluding albums dedicated to transcriptions of works by J S Bach), so the combinatorial possibilities seem endless. I mention all this because I wanted to find performances by Segovia for comparative purposes; I succeeded for most by using Qobuz, but readers with similar ambitions should not be discouraged if they are unable to do so. In any case, the major story here is that the performances by Perez stand very nicely on their own. I concur with JJP in his assessment of Perez’s playing: “… he plays with flair but also with nuance and subtlety.“

Andres Segovia (1962)

So let's take it piece by piece. Tasman’s mostly introspective Cavatina, a five-movement work said to “…evoke the mystery of the Italian city…“ of Venice; the musical language might fittingly be described as baroque but with some modern harmonic twists. The performance by Segovia that I found shows two significant differences as compared to the one by Perez. First, and I hesitate to sound critical of the great Segovia, but I think he can sound a bit perfunctory here. Perez, on the other hand, lavishes attention on each note and each phrase. This shows up in the timings of the movements, where Perez takes a little more time for each. (Of course, one person’s perfunctory is another person’s lively, so your taste may not match mine.) A more “objective” difference is in the recording itself: Segovia’s guitar is very close miced indeed, occasionally giving the impression that one’s head is stuck inside the sound box while also making finger noises prominent. The superb Reference Recordings approach pulls the microphones back for a more natural sound, more like what one would hear at any reasonable distance, and nearly free of distracting finger noises. I don’t mean that the Segovia recording is unlistenable, far from that, but the sound can be distracting.

In the case of the second work on the album, Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s Sonata, I simply was unable to find Segovia‘s complete recording anywhere, although I did find one movement, the Allegro, within a couple of collections. Even for the single movement, there’s quite a contrast in terms of recording as compared to the previous work: the acoustic here is slightly muffled in a very reverberant environment. (Then again, you ought to hear the whole thing, not just one movement, so the point is moot.) No doubt a truly dedicated collector could turn up Segovia‘s complete recording, but with Perez’s excellent performance at hand, I wasn’t up for the effort.

After these two large works, Perez programs a much shorter piece, Haug’s Alba, that largely consists of series of chords meant to convey the rising of the morning sun. It is a quietly lovely five-minute “meditation“ that fits nicely between the larger works before and after. And here, compared to the Segovia recording that I found, there’s no contest: the sound on the old Segovia recording is just bad, and in any case I prefer Perez’s slower, more gentle approach to this music.

Manén’s Fantasia-Sonata combines four movements without pause, running over 17 minutes. The liner notes mention that the structure requires intense concentration from the performer, and concentration is required from the listener as well. Description here of such a varied work would make this review far too long, so I’ll skip to the performance and sound. I did find a recording by Segovia, which sounds distantly recorded in a very reverberant location, perhaps a cathedral. The performances by Segovia and Perez sound fairly similar, although there certainly are differences; as usual here, the closer, more focused acoustic of the newer recording is what catches the ear immediately.

The final work on the album, Mompou’s Suite Compostelana, is meant to represent six stages of a pilgrim’s journey to a shine. Written in 1962, it's certainly not radical but it does have a slightly more contemporary flavor than the earlier works here. Moreover, the relatively recent date of composition means that Segovia’s recording benefits from modern technology and thus is sonically far better than earlier ones: gone is the all-enveloping reverberation and we can truly hear his extraordinary ability to separate musical lines. It’s not all great: finger noises are a little more prominent than one would like, and there does seem to be some subtle pitch instability, which may not bother everyone as it is quite minor, presumably resulting from tape deterioration. Perez’s own performance, though, is hardly left in the shade and it's worth hearing both.

Now let’s put this all together. First, this is an absolute must-hear for true fans of classical guitar. For the rest of us, I want to emphasize that everything here is first-rate, interesting music played in a first-rate way. It is very much worth your time to give it a listen – and to go back and check out the previous three volumes in this series as well.

Souvenirs of Spain and Italy (CD review)

Music of Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Vivaldi, Turina, and Boccherini. Sharon Isbin, guitar; Pacifica Quartet. Cedille CDR 90000 190.

By John J. Puccio

Sharon Isbin is an American classical guitarist, the founding director of the guitar department at the Juilliard School, a winner of multiple Grammy Awards, and a soloist with over 200 orchestras throughout the world. In other words, she knows what she’s doing. She began studying the guitar at the age of nine, she has recorded well over two dozen albums since her recording debut in 1978, and she has been going strong ever since.

Ms. Isbin is accompanied on the album Souvenirs of Spain and Italy by the Pacifica Quartet: Simin Ganatra, violin; Austin Hartman, violin; Mark Holloway, viola; and Brandon Vamos, cello. They perform four pieces by Spanish and Italian composers, giving us a little taste of both countries. To say that the performances are polished and sparkling would be an understatement.

First up on the agenda is the Quintet for Guitar and String Quartet, written in 1950 by the Italian composer, writer, and pianist Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895-1968). The composer described himself as “anti-modernist,” so the listener needn’t worry that we’re getting anything noisy, atonal, or avant-garde. In fact, the four movements are lovely, lyrical, with a poignant melody in the Andante. Ms. Isbin’s guitar playing is light and delicate when needed and robust in the finale.

Next up is the Concerto in D Major, written in the 1730s by Italian composer, violinist, teacher, impresario, and priest Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741). He originally wrote it for lute, strings, and continuo, but here we find it arranged and edited for guitar and strings by Emilio Pujol and Sharon Isbin. It sounds typically Vivaldi, although Ms. Isbin and her friends play it perhaps a shade more subtly, more gracefully than one usually hears from this composer.

After that is La oracion del torero for string quartet (“The Bullfighters Prayer”), written in 1925 and reworked in 1936 by Spanish composer Joaquin Turina (1882-1949). It’s a single, short piece, about eight minutes long, with a varying and colorful character. The quartet plays it alone with color and character, a sweetly engaging performance.

The program closes with the Quintet for Guitar and String quartet No. 4 in D Major “Fandango,” transcribed by the Italian composer and cellist Luigi Boccherini (1743-1805) from his own earlier quintet. It’s an elegant, flowing piece that was, for me, the highlight of an excellent set, combining the best of Italy and Spain. It makes an attractive way to end an entirely winning disc.

Producer Judith Sherman and engineer Bill Maylone recorded the music at Auer Hall, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana in January 2019. The sound is a trifle close-up, but it doesn’t distract from the music. The spacing of the players is especially distinct, and the instruments display good detail and clarity without a trace of brightness or hardness. It’s sound that should appeal to everyone, from audiophiles to earbud wearers.

JJP

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