The French Album (CD review)

Music of Faure, Debussy, Rameau, Chabrier, and Ravel. Jorge Federico Osorio, piano. Cedille CDR 90000 197.

By John J. Puccio

Jorge Federico Osorio may not be the most-familiar name among concert pianists, but he is assuredly among the best. The Mexican-born Osorio (b. 1951) has always avoided the flash and flamboyance of so many of his colleagues in exchange for graceful, refined playing, and it seems to have paid off. He has produced dozens of first-rate record albums of solo, sonata, and concerto music for EMI, Naxos, ASV, Artek, IMP, Linn, CBS, and others, his most-recent recordings on the Cedille label.

This addition of “The French Album” to his discography is a perfect example of his technique. It includes music by Faure, Debussy, Rameau, Chabrier, and Ravel, all of it done up in as gentle yet as passionate a style as one could want. Here’s a rundown of the disc’s contents:

Gabriel Faure (1845–1924)
  1. Pavane
Claude Debussy (1862–1918)
  2. Les collines d’Anacapri
  3. La terrasse des audiences du clair de lune
  4. Clair de lune
  5. Ce qu’a vu le vent d’Ouest
  6. Voiles
  7. La Cathedrale engloutie
  8. Feux d’artifice
  9. Feuilles mortes
Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683–1764)
10. Les Tricotets
11. Menuets I & 2
12. L’Egyptienne
Emmanuel Chabrier (1841–1894)
13. Habanera
Claude Debussy
14. La Puerta del Vino
15. La soirée dans Grenade
Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
16. Alborada del gracioso
17. Pavane pour une infante défunte

Among the things I’ve written about Osorio in the past apply here. So, to quote myself, he plays with beauty and charm, a delicate touch, and a genuine grace, with expressive, nuanced singing in his piano playing. He is a richly expressive piano virtuoso of international fame, and in my experience has never demonstrated anything but sensitive, immaculate, committed, passionate playing, a most-refined pianist whose best work comes in expressively lyrical passages. In “The French Album” he finds amply opportunity to demonstrate all of those talents, particularly in the “expressively lyrical” material, which comes in abundance from the French masters.

Osorio bookends his program with a pair of pavanes by Faure and Ravel respectively. They are perfect pieces for exemplifying his gentle yet commanding style. A pavane is “a stately dance dating from the 16th century,” and Osorio plays both of them with a stately grace, just as he plays everything on the agenda with a courtly polish.

The Debussy items dominate the album. Osorio gives them a free expression. I read the other day someone expressing the opinion that Debussy ushered in the modern age of classical music, and you’ll get no argument from me. With Debussy’s brilliant tone colors, expressionistic and impressionistic in style, lush and subtle at the same time, he certainly created a new musical world. Osorio exploits this new world superbly, his tone colors nuanced and unmistakable, his touch as delicate as the occasion demands. This is playing one can feel, and it feels good.

As I said at the beginning, there are flashier pianists than Osorio, but there are none finer. In this album of French music, he is in his element. If I were forced to pick a favorite selection, it might be Chabrier’s Habanera, not just because it’s beautiful music, but because it is Spanish-influenced music in the French manner, wonderfully executed by Osorio, who combines the best of both worlds.

Producer James Ginsburg and Cedille’s ace engineer Bill Maylone recorded the music in the Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts at the University of Chicago in January 2020. The sound is gorgeous: not too sharp or bright; not too dull or soft. It simply sounds like a real piano in a real hall setting, with just the right amount of ambient bloom, room acoustics, and lifelike detail to bring it to life.

JJP

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

Escales: French Orchestral Works (SACD review)

Music of Chabrier, Durufle, Saint-Saens, Debussy, Ibert, Massenet, and Ravel. John Wilson, Sinfonia of London. Chandos CHSA 5252.

The last few times I reviewed albums from conductor John Wilson, he was conducting the BBC Philharmonic in music of Aaron Copland; and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic in the music of John Ireland; and his own John Wilson Orchestra in the music of Cole Porter and Rodgers and Hammerstein. Now he's back, this time at the helm of the reconstituted Sinfonia of London, an on-and-off-and-on-again session ensemble originally formed in 1955. Whatever, Escales is an ebullient romp from Maestro Wilson and his players through several well-known (and some less well-known) French light pieces.

The program begins with the ever-popular Espana by Emmanuel Chabrier (1841-1894), the composer's French take on all things Spanish. Wilson gives us a sparkling presentation of Chabrier's colorful music, yet with few surprises. It's a well-crafted performance without offering much we haven't heard before.

The next two items are not quite as famous: Trois Danses by Maurice Durufle (1902-1986) and Le Rouet d'Omphale by Camille Saint-Saens (1835-1921). The Durufle piece comes through quite well, perhaps helped by the fact that there aren't too many previous recordings with which to compare it. Wilson handles the dynamic contrasts and tonal shadings smoothly, the second, slow dance standing out. "The Spinning Wheel of Omphale" is a piece Saint-Saens based on a Greek legend, and Wilson does a good job helping it come alive for us in highly descriptive fashion.

Following them is the perennial hit Prelude a L'apres-midi d'un faune by Claude Debussy (1862-1918). "The Prelude to an Afternoon of the Fawn" is probably as renowned as the composer's La Mer. It is the most atmospheric work on the disc, and the listener probably already has multiple versions of it. Still, its sinuous moods can be captivating, even if Wilson's interpretation brings little that's new to the table.

John Wilson

Then there's the album's title music, Escales ("Ports of Call"), by Jacques Ibert (1890-1962). Each of its three sections evokes the sounds and flavor of a different location: Sicily, Tunisia, and Valencia. These were my favorite pieces, with Wilson recreating the sensations of the three locales vividly

The program wraps up with two prominent numbers, the "Meditation" from Thais by Jules Massenet (1842-1912) and Rapsodie espagnole by Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). The beauty of the "Meditation" never grows old, and while Wilson's rendering may not be as delicately wrought as some others, it effectively communicates the composer's expression of serenity and sensuality. The Ravel piece seems appropriate as it bookends the agenda with another French composer's idea of Spain. Wilson gives it fair due.

In sum, although John Wilson's take on this celebrated music breaks no new ground, everything is enthusiastically presented and meticulously performed. There is also enough variety in the selections to please most listeners and perhaps even to uncover a hidden gem or two the listener had not heard before. Fair enough.

Producer Brian Pidgeon and engineer Ralph Couzens recorded the music at the Church of St. Augustine, Kilburn, London in January and September, 2019. They recorded it for playback via hybrid SACD 2-channel and multichannel or regular CD 2-channel. As usual, I listened in SACD 2-channel via a Sony SACD player.

A mild hall resonance tells us where we are, and it's not unpleasant. Dynamics are good, with adequate impact for the big numbers like the Chabrier. Orchestral depth, too, is sufficient, though not entirely audiophile. While ultimate transparency is merely OK, the sound does project a reasonably lifelike presence. In other words, it's good, modern digital sound with a fairly well balanced frequency response, the kind of sound we're used to getting from Chandos.

JJP

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

The Fantastic Philadelphians (CD review)

Eugene Ormandy, the Philadelphia Orchestra. RCA High Performance 09026-63313-2.

By the late Nineties, the folks at RCA had finally figured out what to do with all those old quadraphonic recordings they made in the early Seventies. If this disc was any indication, they probably thought they could remaster the whole lot of them in Dolby Pro Logic and 24-bit technology and market them in their "High Performance" series. But apparently they thought better of the idea. Although the sonic results here are not bad, they are a far cry from audiophile quality.

The disc is filled with showstoppers, things like Saint-Saens's Dance Macabre, Chabrier's Espana, and Falla's Ritual Fire Dance, some of them making a good impression, others not so much. And the sound is equally up and down. The single most outstanding characteristic of the album is the quality of the Philadelphia Orchestra, which sounds wonderfully lush and lustrous.

Eugene Ormandy

Eugene Ormandy was at the helm of the Philadelphia Orchestra for an amazing forty-four years, yet his catalogue of recordings restored to CD remains relatively meager, especially his output for RCA, a little better for Sony (CBS/Columbia). One can understand why, though. He simply did not produce enough critically celebrated albums. OK, I know that statement is not going to go over well with Ormandy's multitude of fans, but unlike some of Ormandy's contemporaries in America during hi-fi's golden age of stereo--Reiner, Fiedler, Bernstein, Solti, et al--Ormandy, with his fairly foursquare rhythms and conservative phrasing, was rather conventional in his approach to music making. These performances demonstrate the fact. They are perfectly acceptable and perfectly ordinary to the last. Which isn't, as I say, bad, just not good enough to endure very well the test of time.

RCA's sound, too, has its pluses and minuses. Producer Max Wilcox and engineer Paul Goodman recorded the material in 1971-72, and RCA digitally remastered it in 1998 in 24-bit Dolby Surround. In its favor, it is extremely dynamic, with occasional thunderous lows and clean, clear highs. Counting against these merits are its multi-miked two-dimensionality and its sometimes over-spacious acoustic when played back in regular two-channel stereo.

Some of the tracks sound reasonably free of this property--Ponchielli's Dance of the Hours, for instance, and Kabalevsky's Galop, probably the best piece on the disc. Nevertheless, much of the music sounds like it's adjusted to one of those overactive "Stadium" settings that hardly anybody uses on a surround-sound receiver.

In short, I wasn't exactly bowled over by Ormandy or his newfound sound of the day.

JJP

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

The Karajan Collection: Philharmonia Promenade Concert (CD review)

Herbert von Karajan, Philharmonia Orchestra. EMI 7243 4 76900-2.

In 2005 the powers that be at EMI continued to find new and varied ways to repackage their older material, of which they had one of the biggest catalogues in the business (most of it now owned by Warner Classics). In the present album, we get a single disc from a multi-disc collection EMI put together called "The Karajan Collection." The boxed collection featured Karajan's work with both the Philharmonia Orchestra and the Berlin Philharmonic, but this single disc, Promenade Concert, features just the Philharmonia.

The booklet note tells us that the Philharmonia Promenade Concert (1958-1960) comprises the last recordings Karajan made for EMI with the Philharmonia Orchestra before he left for the Berlin Philharmonic. It seems an odd way to go out, this most sober-minded maestro doing a collection of lightweight showpieces, but it's all in good fun, and Karajan genuinely seems to be having a jolly time letting his hair down, so to speak.

Herbert von Karajan

There are twelve works on the disc, all of them popular warhorses, and I'll mention only a few: Chabrier's España, Waldteufel's Skaters' Waltz, Suppe's Light Cavalry Overture, Weinberger's Schwanda the Bagpiper, Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld Overture, and Borodin's Polovtsian Dances, plus bits by Berlioz, Leoncavallo, and the Strausses. Karajan gives his full attention to each and every piece, and each of them radiates a charm and a swagger that, quite frankly, I wouldn't have expected. Of course, one also has to expect Karajan's typically glamorous manner, with many a long-breathed note and even more swooping phrases. It's OK: It does the music more good than harm.

The sound appears typical of EMI in the Fifties, leaning rather to the bright, thin side, but with plenty of sparkle and definition. A comparison to another Karajan disc in the EMI series (of Wagner orchestral music) made some twenty years later with Berlin reveals the newer disc sounding fuller and weightier, but not necessarily any better, especially musically.

On a further note, Warner Classics have recently made the album available for download, in whole or in part. So there's another option to consider, given that the EMI disc may now be hard to find.

JJP

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

Falla: El Sombrero de tre picos (CD review)

Also, Chabrier: Espana. Teresa Berganza, mezzo-soprano; Ernest Ansermet, Orchestre de la Suisse Romande. HDTT.

I wrote about this recording of Manuel de Falla's ballet El Sombrero de tre picos ("The Three Cornered Hat") some while ago when FIM remastered it. Now, HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers) have remastered it as well, and they provide it on a physical disc or a digital download in a variety of formats and price points. No matter which company or which format you choose, the remasterings provide clear improvements in sound over the original Decca product.

El Sombrero de tre picos is a lighthearted tale of attempted seduction, which the composer wrote in 1919 for Sergei Diaghilev's Ballets Russes. The music, based on a well-known Spanish folk tale and several popular Spanish folk tunes, is continuously rhythmic, colorful, and infectious.

Moreover, Ernest Ansermet's 1961 Decca recording of it contains one of the best all-around performances of the ballet you'll find, and the sound remains among the best as well. That the performance and sound are so good should not surprise anyone, though, considering that Ansermet premiered the work in 1919, and the folks at Decca in the early Sixties were at the peak of their recording prowess.

Anyway, Ansermet has a genuine feeling for this music, presenting it as well as any conductor could, the rhythms vibrant and the spirits high. Moreover, Ansermet provides all the wit, charm, beauty, and, yes, melodrama the score has to offer, making it a most-entertaining affair.

Oddly, after all the sparkle and vitality Ansermet offers up in the Falla piece, he seems rather casual in the coupling, Espana, by French composer Emmanuel Chabrier (18411-1894). In fact, you could say Ansermet actually gives us a fairly lackluster interpretation. Three years had gone by between the two performances; maybe the conductor was just getting older and slowing down. In any case, I couldn't recommend this recording of the Chabrier very high on my list; there are too many other, more lively accounts. Still, with so splendid a rendering of the Falla work at hand, I can certainly get behind the disc as a whole.

Ernest Ansermet

Producer Michael Bremner and engineer James Walker recorded the Falla music in February 1961 at Victoria Hall, Geneva, Switzerland, and HDTT remastered and transferred it to disc from a London 4-track tape. Producer John Mordler and engineer James Lock recorded the Chabrier piece in December 1964 at Victoria Hall, Geneva, and HDTT remastered and transferred it to disc from a 15ips 2-track tape.

Of course, the Falla recording has been a favorite among audiophiles since the very beginning, but my trouble with it was that my first experience hearing it was on vinyl at a friend's house in the early Seventies, and I thought at the time it sounded hard, bright, edgy, and glassy. Now, remastered, I find splendid. It comes across sounding very dynamic, with excellent range and impact. In addition, the acoustic displays plenty of depth and air, as well a pleasingly natural hall ambience. You listen not just to the music but into it. The combination of dynamics and dimensionality makes the aural presentation as lifelike as one could want. Midrange definition is smooth and transparent, with no forwardness or edge. Highs extend out nicely and contribute to the sound's realism. Bass comes through strongly and deeply, further enhancing the you-are-there experience.

For further information on HDTT's various configurations, formats (CD, HQCD, FLAC, DSD, DVD-24, DVD-24, etc.), discs, downloads, and prices, you can visit their Web site at http://www.highdeftapetransfers.com.

JJP

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

Decca: Supreme Stereophonic Legacy (UltraHD review)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sir Georg Solti

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJP

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

Alexandre Tharaud: Autograph (CD review)

Bis-Encores. Alexandre Tharaud, piano. Erato 50999 934137 2 5.

French pianist Alexandre Tharaud has an extensive discography consisting of dozens of albums covering almost every major composer for the piano, including Bach, Chopin, Grieg, Poulenc, Ravel, Satie, Schubert, and a host of others but, oddly, no Beethoven. On this 2013 album Tharaud presents twenty-three short selections by various noted composers but, again, no Beethoven. He says the album, called Autograph and which he subtitles Bis-Encores, is a collection of music that sums up his repertoire and his career. Fair enough.

So, the album comprises mostly light, airy, Romantic, ethereal piano music. Maybe Tharaud sees himself as the gentle, thoughtful, sensitive type. It’s certainly not a bad way to go; although it doesn’t make the for the most-exciting of programs, it makes for beautiful listening, and Tharaud is as good at it as anyone could be at it. The material is light, airy, Romantic, and ethereal, as is the playing.

Let me give you a few examples. Tharaud begins the program with the Prelude in B minor by Bach, in an arrangement by Alexander Siloti. It has a beautifully straightforward simplicity that Tharaud executes with care. It's contemplative music at its best.

Next is the Romance sans paroles No. 3, Op. 17 by Gabriel Faure. It is lovely in its graceful lines, which Tharaud characterizes with loving care. After that is a bit of a pick-me-up with Rameau's rondo piece Les Sauvages, one of the livelier tunes on the album. Then there's Gluck's popular Dance of the Blessed Spirits, again arranged for piano by Siloti, in which Tharaud conveys a sweet and untroubled peace.

And so it goes, each little work a shining gem and, for the most part, a quiet oasis for relaxation and thought. Of course, there are also a few things like Rachmaninov's Prelude in C sharp minor No. 2, Op. 3, which in Tharaud's hands is not only powerful and dynamic but noble and exciting.

Lots of favorites: The ones I've already mentioned and also Chopin's Minute Waltz, always welcome; Saint-Saens's The Swain, always delightful; Chabrier's Feuillet d'album and Bizet's Adagietto, both enchanting; Poulenc's aptly named Melancolie; and Satie's seductively odd little Gymnopedie No. 3.

Tharaud closes the program with piece by Bach, the Andante from his Concerto in B minor, arranged for piano by Mr. Tharaud. It has a calm, tranquil tone reminiscent of Beethoven's later Moonlight Sonata, and Tharaud’s handling of it easily points up the similarities.

The fact is, Tharaud never attempts to dazzle the listener with his technical virtuosity. I suspect it's a case of been there, done that. Here, he is only trying to reveal a part of himself in music he loves and, obviously, loves to play. It is an enjoyable package.

Erato producer and balance engineer Cecile Lenoir recorded the music at the Salle Colonne, Paris, in 2013. The piano sounds warm and cozy, with a pleasing resonant bloom on the notes. Mr. Tharaud appears to be in a spacious environment miked from a moderately close distance. The results are clear yet rounded, detailed yet smooth and natural. It's a sound that appropriately fits the nature of the music.

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

JJP

Chabrier: Espana (SACD review)

Also, Suite Pastorale; Fete Polonaise; Gwendoline Overture; Danse Slave; Joyeuse Marche; Bourree Fantasque; Roussel: Suite in F. Paul Paray, Detroit Symphony Orchestra. Mercury SACD 475 6183.

Better late than never. My catching up on great records, I mean.

I missed this classic recording when it first appeared on a Mercury Living Presence LP in 1960, as well as when Philips/Mercury later released it on CD in the early Nineties. There was probably even a Mercury Golden Import in there I missed, too; I don't know. In any case, it was an unfortunate loss on my part, but a wonderful catching up.

Paul Paray's performance of Espana is among the most joyous, infectiously exciting, and spontaneous I think I have ever heard. The playing is great; the interpretation is great; I think I'm in love. Seriously, this is not only a well-performed rendition of a popular warhorse, it's one of the most delightfully imaginative renderings you'll find as well. My previous favorites, a 1957 recording by Ataulfo Argenta and the LSO on Decca (and remastered on LIM) and a 1984 digital recording by Armin Jordan on Erato, are still by no means entirely eclipsed, but Paray brings just as much sparkle to the occasion, maybe more. Combine the excellence of Paray's Espana with the distinction of the companion pieces, and you get a delectable combination.

Moreover, Paray, as always, gets a superb production from recording director Wilma Cozart and chief engineer C. Robert Fine, the various selections made between 1957-1959 in the Cass Technical High School gymnasium and Old Orchestra Hall, felicitous spots for recording if ever there were any. About the only area in which the Erato disc excels the Mercury is in its depth of field, where there is slightly greater dimensionality to Jordan's orchestra, plus a touch more warmth. The Mercury engineers more closely miked their recording, and while it displays a little less depth, it also has more midrange transparency and openness. (To be fair, however, the LIM remastering of Argenta sounds remarkable, too, with enormous dynamics, although it costs an arm and a leg more.) In addition, the Mercury contains everything else found on the Erato issue, with the addition of the Roussel Suite in F, making the Mercury a winning deal.

What's more, the folks at Decca/Mercury offer the recording on a hybrid SACD, meaning in this case that you can listen to it in its original two-channel stereo (played either on a regular CD player or on an SACD player) and a three-channel version (SACD player only), which is the way the engineers originally recorded the piece before releasing it in stereo only. It's a remarkable recording, no matter how you look at (or listen to) it.

JJP

Espana (CD review)

Rimsky-Korsakov:  Capriccio Espagnol; Granados:  Andaluza, Danza Espanola No. 5; Chabrier:  Espana; Moszkowski:  Five Spanish Dances.  Ataulfo Argenta, London Symphony Orchestra.  LIM XR24 016.

Originally recorded by Decca in 1956, this classic album, "Espana," with conductor Ataulfo Argenta has the distinction of being one of the best collections of Spanish-inflected music ever produced.  Yet, of the four composers represented, only one is actually Spanish.  No matter.  You don't have to be American to enjoy a hot dog.  The Russian, German, and French composers do just as well by the music as the Spaniard.

Things begin with Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's Capriccio Espagnol, a lively, colorful piece that has seen hundreds of interpretations but none quite so affecting as this one.  On a rival XRCD from JVC, Kiril Kondrashin directs a more flamboyant, more purely exciting account, but Argenta imbues the music with an enjoyably relaxed tone.  Not that the big, dramatic moments don't come to the fore under Argenta; they do.  But he captures the lighter, more reflective interludes as well.  Following the Capriccio is Enrique Granados's brief Andaluza, Danza Espanola No. 5, which comes almost as a lullaby after Rimsky-Korsakov's more-explosive, more-ornate work.  Then there is probably the most-famous piece of Spanish music ever written, Espana, by the Frenchman Emmanuel Chabrier.  No complaints here; Argenta's reading is one of the two or three best, most evocative available, and, ironically, the best recorded.  Finally, there are Five Spanish Dances by Moritz Moszkowski, all of them quite lovingly executed by Argenta.

This particular album has been a showpiece for hi-fi systems since the earliest days of stereo, and the last time I recommended it (about a dozen years ago in the $ensible Sound magazine), it had been remastered on a gold disc by Classic Compact Discs.  It sounded very, very good, and now LIM (Lasting Impression Music, the Decca remastering arm of producer Winston Ma's First Impression Music) have given it the ultimate treatment in XRCD 24-bit processing.  In a direct comparison of the XRCD with the gold disc, I found small but noticeable improvements in the XRCD's handling of mid-to-upper bass, resulting in a warmer, smoother, and, most importantly, fuller sound.  The gold disc seemed a tad lean to me by comparison, and a touch edgier.  Not that the gold presentation isn't still a great-sounding disc; it's just that the XRCD appears to my ears to be slightly richer and more realistic.  I suppose one could argue about which disc produces the widest dynamic range and the strongest impact, but these are areas too close for me call.

In any case, the Classic Compact gold disc is no longer available, so the point is moot unless you already own it.  If you like this music and you like this album, you can't beat the LIM XRCD remastering of it.  Just be sure you have the deep pockets to pay for it, because it will cost you as much as any gold disc ever would.

JJP