Karl Nehring's Favorites of 2025

 Art Choral Vol. 6: Moderne. Ola Gjeilo (b. 1978): Unicornis Captivatur; Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Lux AEterna (excerpt from Nimrod from Enigma Variations, arrangement by John Cameron); Ambroz Čopi (b. 1973): II. Regina caeli (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Morten Lauridsen (b. 1943): O magnum mysterium; Čopi: IV. Ave, Regina caelorum (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Samuel Barber (1910-1981): Agnus Dei (Adagio for Strings, Op. 11, transcription for mixed choir); Jake Runestad (b.1986): Nyon Nyon; Uģis Prauliņš (b. 1957): Missa Regensis: I. Kyrie eleison; Andrew Balfour (b. 1967): Praeter rerum seriem; Aaron Copland (1900-1990): Help Us, O Lord (excerpt from Four Motets) Pablo Casals(1876-1973): O vos omnes (Antífona del Nocturno 3º de Sábado Santo). Ensemble ArtChoral (Janelle Lucyk, Marie Magistry, Magali Simard-Galdès, sopranos; Ghislaine Deschambault, Claudine Ledoux, Rachèle Tremblay, altos; Kerry Bursey, Bernard Cayouette, Arthur Tanguay-Labrosse, tenors; Alasdair Campbell, William Kraushaar, Guillaume St-Cyr, basses); Matthias Maute, director. ATMA Classique ACD2 2425 

This release focuses on music from a specific musical era: the Modern Era. The program is a mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar, with old standbys such as the choral arrangements of the Barber Adagio and the Elgar Nimrod mixed in with less familiar works by composers whose names might be familiar (such as Copland and Casals) or perhaps lass familiar (such as Čopi or Prauliņš). In presenting a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar, the soothing and stimulating, this collection provides an entertaining overview of modern choral music that is both stimulating and entertaining.

 

Anouar Brahem: After the Last Sky. Brahem: Hind; After the Last Sky; Endless Wandering; The Eternal Olive Tree; Awake; In the Shade of Your Eyes; Dancing Under the Meteorites; The Sweet Oranges of Jaffa; Never Forget; Edward Said’s Reverie; Vague. Anouar Brahem, oud; Anja Lechner, cello; Django Bates, piano; Dave Holland, double bass. ECM 2838

 

The interplay among the four musicians flows naturally and unforced, the music coming across as an amalgam of chamber and world music. The opening track, for example, Remembering Hind, is a brief duet for cello and piano that sounds as if it could be an excerpt from a cello sonata. The mood throughout the album is generally restrained, reflexive; at times – as in the track Endless Wandering – bordering on somber. The Eternal Olive Tree livens things up a bit, however, as Holland and Brahem engage in an energetic exchange. This is an album of extraordinary depths, the four musicians combining to produce an album of breathtaking beauty, chamber music of haunting emotional subtlety. The warm, natural, spacious ECM engineering adds to the luster of this sparkling gem. 

 

Anna Clyne: Abstractions. Clyne: Within Her Arms; Abstractions – I. Marble Moon II. Auguries III. Seascape IV. River V. Three; Restless Oceans; Color Field – I. Yellow II. Red III. Orange. Baltimore Symphony Orchestra; Marin Alsop, conductor. Naxos 8.574620

 

 Clyne wrote the deeply moving elegy Within Her Arms, which is set for an ensemble of 15 strings, shortly after the death of her mother in 2008. The remaining compositions are scored for full orchestra, showcasing both the rich imagination of the composer and the deft playing of the Baltimore players. Although the music is not particularly tuneful, neither is it overly abstract; rather, it is engaging and entertaining, with many striking effects. It is music that makes you want to listen to it over and over again to discover its many striking moments.

 

Debussy: Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune L87 (arr. David Walter); Violin Sonata in G minor L148; Sonata for flute, viola and harp L145; Cello Sonata in D minor L144; String Quartet in G minor L91. The Nash Ensemble. Hyperion CDA68463

 

Those classical music fans who are familiar with previous recordings by the venerable British chamber collective known as the Nash Ensemble have no doubt come to expect quality work from the group. Here, they present French music and do so quite persuasively. This generously filled disc (77+ minutes) opens with a delightfully transparent arrangement – not too thin, not too thick – of Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune for the combination of string quintet, wind quintet, and crotales (small tuned cymbals). Although the remainder of the program might be of music that many fans of Debussy might already have in their collection, the quality of the performances, the quality of the engineering, the quality of the liner notes, and the particularly noteworthy version of Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune combine to make this a most persuasive release.

Fred Hersch: The Surrounding Green. Hersch: Plainsong; Ornette Coleman: Law Years; Hersch: The Surrounding Green; Egberto Gismonti: Palhaço; George and Ira Gershwin: Embraceable You; Charlie Haden: First Song; Hersch: Anticipation. Fred Hersch, piano; Drew Gress, double bass; Joey Baron, drums. ECM 2826

 

Prior to this recording, these three musicians had never recorded together as a trio. You’ never guess that from listening, though, as the music just seems to flow so naturally, so beautifully, so lyrically. That doesn’t mean “easy listening,” however; the inclusion of an Ornette Coleman tune, Law Years, should provide a clue that all is not simple tunefulness. But even here, there is nothing to assault the senses; rather, it’s more a feeling of contrast and coloration. After all, Ornette was nothing if not lyrical. Perhaps not traditionally so, but my goodness, his music bursts forth with tuneful joy, and these three musicians understand that. Hersch’s title track, The Surrounding Green, is another exemplar of lyrically flowing music that cannot but help induce aesthetic satisfaction. Recorded in ECM’s typical warm, spacious sound quality and featuring especially appealing cover art (although, sadly but not surprisingly, no liner notes), this is an album packed with tasteful, thoughtful, rewarding music.

 

Alexander Knaifel: Chapter Eight. Knaifel: Canticum Canticorum for cathedral, choirs, and cello – 1. Stanza I-VII 2. Stanza VIII-XXII 3. Stanza XXIII-XXXII. Patrick Demenga, cello; State Choir Latvija; Riga Cathedral Boys Choir; Youth Choir Kamer; Andres Mustonen, conductor. ECM New Series 2637 485 9853

 

There is abundant beauty to be found in Chapter Eight, but it is beauty of a subtle sort. Knaifel considered the acoustic environment in which the piece would be played – a cathedral – to be instrumental in producing the sound he envisioned. Although the listing in the header above of three choirs and a cello soloist might give the impression that this is going to be some sort of sonic spectacular, with soaring vocal soloists, complex contrapuntal choral lines, and virtuosic flights of fancy from the cello, the music is restrained, contemplative, yet powerful in its own way. Rostropovich said of Chapter Eight, “It is amazing with what a deep sense of beauty this composition for church, choruses, and cello is imbued.” The performance on this album was recorded in Lucerne’s Jesuitenkirche, built in the Baroque era, and long renowned for its exceptional acoustic properties. With that beautiful sound faithfully captured by the ECM engineering team, this is a release to be treasured.

 

Anna Lapwood: Firedove. (1) The Bells of Nidaros Cathedral; (2) Alan Manken: The Bells of Notre Dame (fromThe Hunchback of Notre Dame); (3) Hans Zimmer: Time (from Inception); (4) Flight – Introduction; (5) Rachel Portman: Flight; (6) Olivia Bell: Limina Luminis; (7) Julie Cooper: Firedove; (8) Ivo Antognini: Come to Me; (9) Bob Dylan: Make You Feel My Love; (10) Robbie Williams & Guy Chambers: Angels; (11) Ola Gjeilo: Northern Lights; (12) Poppy Ackroyd: Murmurations; (13) Louis Vierne: Naïades; (14) Hania Rani: Glass; (15) Maurice Duruflé: Prélude et Fugue sur le Nom D’Alain Op. 7. Anna Lapwood, organ and conductor; Jess Gillam, saxophone (4, 5); The Chapel Choir of Pembroke Choir, Cambridge (7, 8, 9); Elena Urioste, violin (7); Molly Hord, organ (9); Maryam Giraud, soloist (9). Sony Classical 19802809272

 

Anna Lapwood MBE (b. 1995) is skilled not only as an organist, but as a conductor and broadcaster as well. Now she is here with a new album, which she characterizes as “an explosion of emotion, bringing together all the different strands of my musical world, from organ to choral, and from classical to pop, all seen through the lens of this remarkable instrument.” The “remarkable instrument” to which she refers is the organ at Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, Norway. The centerfold picture in the CD booklet shows Lapwood seated at the keyboard of this imposing instrument, which was built in 1930. With 129 stops and more than 9,600 pipes, it is one of the largest organs in northern Europe. From the sound of the cathedral bells that open the album, the choir, the plaintive saxophone, and of course the magnificent organ itself, the album unfolds a full spectrum of sound from the intimate to the grand. Remarkably, despite the varied nature of the program, Lapwood’s musical vision comes through as consistent and compelling.

 

Mahler: Symphony No. 9. Park Avenue Chamber Symphony; David Bernard, conductor. Recursive Classics RC3691873

 

Transparency of sound is an outstanding feature of this release, in terms of both performance and engineering. The opening movement, for example, moves right along, although it never seems rushed. It has texture – the sound is not dominated by strings; moreover, the tempo is steady, with no sensation of a drag to pull at our heartstrings. It just sounds natural and unaffected. And so with the second movement, which dances, as it should, and an especially lively and energetic Rondo-Burleske third movement – in both these inner movements, the liveliness of both the performance and the recorded sound bring a sense of delight that belie the reputation this work sometimes gets as a morbid, gloomy work. The closing Adagio, the longest of the four movements (25:05 in this performance), is of course more serious in tone, but even here, the interpretation never goes over the top into the maudlin. All in all, this new release offers a fresh new way of enjoying the Mahler Ninth that should be of great interest to serious Mahlerites. 

 

Ravel: Complete Works for Solo Piano. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, piano. CHANDOS CHAN 20287(2)

 

This new recording by Bavouzet is clearly a labor of love, the pianist returning to the music of Ravel two decades after his earlier recording, bringing with him a deeper appreciation for the music of the great French master. The generous CD booklet contains not only extensive notes on the music by eminent English musicologist Hugh Macdonald, but also an essay by Bavouzet in which he marvels at how Ravel, who was far from a virtuoso pianist himself, “was capable of inventing the most magical pianistic effects without being able to try them out himself?” But Bavouzet is able to produce Ravel’s magical pianistic effects, and the Chandos engineering team has done a fine job of recording them. This has become my new favorite Ravel piano set. 

Words Fall Short. Joshua Redman: A Message to Unsend; *So It Goes; Words Fall Short; Borrowed Eyes; **Icarus; Over the Jelly-Green Sea; She Knows; ***Era’s End. Joshua Redman, tenor and soprano saxophones; Paul Cornish, piano; Philip Norris, double bass; Nazir Ebo, drums; with *Melissa Aldana, tenor saxophone; **Skylar Tang, trumpet; ***Gabrielle Cavassa, vocals. Blue Note 00602475915096

 

This time around, Redman is offering us an instrumental album featuring his band cutting loose on his compositions. It is especially fun to hear Redman and guest tenor star Melissa Aldana (whose own albums as a leader are well worth seeking out) trading licks on So It Goes. (How wonderful it would be for these two tenor titans to someday record an entire album together – is there any possibility that could actually happen?) On the track Icarus, trumpeter Skylar Tang adds some extra punch to the proceedings as she sometimes doubles Redman’s sax, sometimes steps out to solo, and drummer Ebo also really drives things along with plenty of kinetic energy. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention pianist Paul Cornish, whose melodic touch is evident right from the opening track, and bassist Philip Norris, who kicks off the title track with a thumping bass solo. Although vocalist Cavassa is featured on only one tune, her contribution is a valuable one, bringing bittersweet pathos to Era’s End to close out the album. All in all, Words Fall Short is another solid effort from a modern jazz master.

Moderne: Art Choral Vol. 6 (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Ola Gjeilo (b. 1978): Unicornis Captivatur; Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Lux AEterna (excerpt from Nimrod from Enigma Variations, arrangement by John Cameron); Ambroz Čopi (b. 1973): II. Regina caeli (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Morten Lauridsen (b. 1943): O magnum mysterium; Čopi: IV. Ave, Regina caelorum (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Samuel Barber (1910-1981): Agnus Dei (Adagio for Strings, Op. 11, transcription for mixed choir); Jake Runestad (b.1986): Nyon Nyon; Uģis Prauliņš (b. 1957): Missa Regensis: I. Kyrie eleison; Andrew Balfour (b. 1967): Praeter rerum seriem; Aaron Copland (1900-1990): Help Us, O Lord (excerpt from Four Motets) Pablo Casals(1876-1973): O vos omnes (Antífona del Nocturno 3º de Sábado Santo). Ensemble ArtChoral (Janelle Lucyk, Marie Magistry, Magali Simard-Galdès, sopranos; Ghislaine Deschambault, Claudine Ledoux, Rachèle Tremblay, altos; Kerry Bursey, Bernard Cayouette, Arthur Tanguay-Labrosse, tenors; Alasdair Campbell, William Kraushaar, Guillaume St-Cyr, basses); Matthias Maute, director. ATMA Classique ACD2 2425 

We have not reviewed a choral release in Classical Candor so far this year (2025); the last time we gave a listen to a CD spotlighting the performance of a choir was back in November, 2024, in a review of new music by the composers Ēriks Ešenvalds and Rachel Laurin (a review that you can find here). While that release featured large works by two composers, this new ATMA release instead focuses on music from a specific musical era: in this case, the Modern Era. As you can discern from the album’s title, this is Volume 6 in a series that includes Vol. 1, Renaissance; Vol. 2, Baroque I; Vol. 3, Baroque II; Vol. 4, Classsique; Vol. 5, Romantique; and Vol. 7, Noël.

As the liner notes observe about the current state of composition for chorus, “the choral repertoire continued to expand during the 20^th and 21^st centuries thanks especially to contributions from North American and Scandinavian composers. Some, such as Morten Lauridsen and Ola Gjeilo, have specialized in contemporary choral composition – in fact, they have written so much and so well that their works have become benchmarks of such music – while others have remained attached to the traditional and sacred character of choral music.”

Readers conversant with choral music may well be familiar with Lauridsen’s O magnum mysterium, which has been widely recorded, including a luminous rendition led by Robert Shaw and captured in audiophile-quality sound in a Telarc release reviewed by John Puccio back in 2018 (review here). Regarding Gjeilo, we have reviewed a couple of his previous releases: Dawn, for solo piano (review here) , which we found disappointing, and Dreamweaver, which included music for chorus with piano and orchestra (review here), a better effort – although our favorite remains his Chandos release titled Northern Lights. His Unicornis Captivatur sounds a bit more traditional than some of his work but makes for a fine opening to the program. The remainder is a mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar, with old standbys such as the choral arrangements of the Barber Adagio and the Elgar Nimrod mixed in with less familiar works by composers whose names might be familiar (such as Copland and Casals) or perhaps lass familiar (such as Čopi or Prauliņš).

One piece that really jumps out, though, is by a composer whose name, although maybe not quite a household name, should not be completely unfamiliar to our readers, for we have reviewed one his releases before (review here), although to be fair, it was a few years ago… Anyway, Nyon Nyon has a unique sound that quickly captures your attention: What are they singing?! From the helpful liner notes, which include texts for all the compositions as well as some information about them, we find the following lyrics:

Nyon nyon

See mahkah who when

Yah hah doo be dah

Ooit tihkih ahh sah

Dnn tss

Runestad explains that Nyon Nyon “explores the wide range of sonic effects that the human voice can produce. The work plunges the listener into an acoustically diverse world populated by original phonemes, each with its own vowel color and way of being produced. By incorporating effects similar to those usually produced by a wah-wah pedal on an electric guitar – itself inspired by nasal sonorities – and other effects mimicking synthesizers, drums, or a bass guitar, the piece turns the choir into a ‘full-fledged vocal orchestra’.” Now, that description – not to mention those lyrics – may strike some readers as off-putting, but trust me, it’s a lively, entertaining piece that is a wonder and a delight.  In presenting a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar, the soothing and stimulating, this collection provides an entertaining overview of modern choral music that is well performed, well recorded, and enthusiastically recommended.

Elgar: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 2 (CD Review)

 by Ryan Ross 

(CD1) Symphony No. 1 in A-Flat; (CD2) Symphony No. 2 in E-Flat. Sir Mark Elder, conductor; Hallé. Hallé CD HLD 7564

 

Every time I listen to these magnificent works I think, “how in the world are they not more popular outside of the United Kingdom?” They have everything: great tunes, high drama, and breathtaking emotional range (to name a few). They are two crowning achievements of a patriotic composer who nonetheless had trouble fitting in with an elite establishment. And despite owing much to Continental European models, they somehow sound thoroughly English – which makes it ironic that my favorite recordings are by non-British conductors. I regret to report that this pattern holds for the present offering by Mark Elder and the Hallé Orchestra (apparently, it’s just called “Hallé?”). Because what these multifaceted works require to come off best is a strong motion that Elder doesn’t exercise, and a conviction that he doesn’t quite demonstrate. 

 

The First Symphony receives the better of the two performances. Elder’s leisurely tempo works for the opening motto theme, marked Andante nobilmente e semplice. The ensuing Allegro is not bad, exactly, but it feels a bit creaky. This is a large movement with many different parts. The main trouble is that Elder “stops to smell the roses” too pointedly and too often. The score’s many nooks, crannies, subtleties, and emotions draw him in at the expense of other considerations. The conductor should keep things moving, but he seems hesitant to do so. The second and fourth movements fare better in this respect, but even there I’m missing some “snap” and polish in the direction and playing respectively. There’s a sweep that this work (and its brother) should have, but I don’t feel it in this rendition. 

 

These problems are more pronounced with the Second Symphony. From the get-go, it’s just too sluggish. We don’t really get the score-directed Allegro vivace for the first movement, at least not initially and consistently. Too often the musical narrative just sort of shambles along. More seriously, I’m missing the nobilmente both here and elsewhere. Even when the tempo temporarily catches up in places, the various figures and articulations seem oddly muted. The grand climax at the end of the second movement is almost convincing, but somehow it just sounds tired instead of glorious. The third movement is marked Rondo (Presto), but at 8:48 it clocks in at around a minute slower than I think it should. There ought to be a lusty élan here, but it’s absent; instead, the motives/ideas sound limp. The finale fares a bit better, but again that maestoso could be more maestoso-ish, at the climaxes especially. 

 

These symphonies’ markings betray Elgar’s earnestness: nobilmente, maestoso, molto. This was a man of passion who substantially bought into the nationalist stuff that makes many contemporary critics and academics cringe. (The Second Symphony’s inscription reads as follows: “Dedicated to the memory of His late Majesty King Edward VII. This Symphony, designed early in 1910 to be a loyal tribute, bears its present dedication with the gracious approval of His Majesty the King.”) The music is not only about Elgar’s physiognomy and experience, with their various highs and lows; it’s also about his love for a great nation in which he glumly perceived the first signs of a long decline. Performers may not need to subscribe to all of this in order to create fine interpretations, but I believe they simply must capture a certain spirit and sincerity. To my ears, the all-British performances that do so, and still capture the other elements well, are Boult/LPO on Warner (Catalogue No. 3821512) and Mackerras/LSO (Argo 4308352). But my favorite recordings of all are the colorful, energetic ones by Georg Solti/LPO (Decca 4438562) and Leonard Slatkin/LPO (RCA 82876603892). These both feature foreign conductors leading the London Philharmonic Orchestra. As a case study, compare Elder and the Hallé here to Solti in the second movement of the First Symphony. The tempi are similar, but behold the latter interpretation as it crackles and thrills in a way that the former just does not. (I often find this to be true of Elder’s other work as well, for example his Vaughan Williams and Sibelius symphonies). Elgar’s symphonic music deserves much wider and more robust respect. I hope that whoever records it next is a more ideal advocate.

Music for Strings: Sinfonia of London/John Wilson (SACD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Vaughan Williams: Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis (for Double String Orchestra); Howells: Concerto for String Orchestra; Delius: Late Swallows (slow movement of String Quartet arranged 1962-63 for string orchestra by Eric Fenby); Elgar: Introduction and Allegro, Op. 47 for Strings (Quartet and Orchestra).  John Mills, violin; Michael Trainor, violin; Andriy Viytovych, viola; Richard Harwood, cello; John Wilson, Sinfonia of London. Chandos CHSA 5291

 

The Sinfonia of London is not one of the established London orchestras such as the London Symphony, London Philharmonic, or the similarly-named London Sinfonietta. Rather, the Sinfonia of London is a pickup orchestra that assembles for specific recording or concert performances. It was originally assembled in the 1950s to record film scores (a lucrative source of income for orchestral musicians) and is now in its third incarnation, which was formed by the British conductor John Wilson (b. 1952) in 2018 to undertake recording projects. Its members include musicians from the more well-known London orchestras as well as some skilled chamber musicians and soloists. Wilson and the orchestra have thus far released several recordings for Chandos. This time around it is strings only for a recording of several compositions of quintessentially British music for string orchestra. We previously reviewed an excellent release by Wilson and players featuring music for strings by the four B’s of English music, a review that you can read here.

 

Two of the pieces on this latest offering, those by RVW and Elgar, are compositions that have been recorded many, many, times by many, many conductors – English, British, European, American, Russian… My guess would be that many, if not most classical music fans have several favorite recordings of both in their collections. These performances by Wilson and his players are top-drawer and could well elbow their way into many a favorites list. The Tallis Fantasia, no matter how many times it has been recorded, is an absolutely stunning piece of music that should never be taken for granted. Finding both the performance and the engineering on this new Chandos SACD to be truly excellent, I thought it would be useful to do a quick comparison with another, older recording. (Note: This SACD has been recorded in 24-bit/96 kHz 5.0-channel surround sound; however, I listened to the CD layer only). The CD I quickly pulled down from my shelf turned out to be quite a bit older: a 1985 Argo “ADRM” remastering of a 1972 recording by Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin-in- the-Fields. To be honest, I was truly surprised at how well the 50-year-old recording held up. No doubt the newer recording is better in absolute terms, and for those with multichannel surround-sound audio systems and/or headphone/earbud setups (I see that on Amazon Music, for example, the album can be streamed in Dolby Atmos format, and would assume that Apple Music offers something similar), the opportunity for a potentially more immersive is offered by the SACD format (as well as some of the various higher-end streaming services for those so inclined). 

 

In terms of performance, both groups sounded excellent, and the total timing for the Tallis Fantasia was within five seconds: Wilson, 15:08; Marriner, 15:13. As I reflect back on my times spent listening to the Wilson/Sinfonia of London performance of this beloved piece, I am reminded of a remark I once read long ago that Toscanini was said to made – intended derisively – about the way Bruno Walter conducted the music of Mozart: “When he comes to something beautiful, he melts.” When I hear a beautiful performance of the Tallis Fantasia, I melt. And somehow, I have this notion – perhaps I am a sentimental, airheaded fool – that even though these fine string players, the cream of the London crop, gather together as a focused group to record this most beloved English composition, they cannot help but play their hearts out. This is an outstanding performance of a transcendent piece of music. 

 

I will definitely add the Wilson disc to add to my collection, but it won’t go on the shelf near the Marriner disc in the “V” section of my collection; instead, it will go in the “D” section, tucked in amongst my Delius CDs. But first, a word about the Howells Concerto for String Orchestra, which is the longest selection on the program at just over 28 minutes. Herbert Howells (1892-1983) was deeply impressed by both the Tallis Fantasia and Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro for Strings. Although he is known today more for his large-scale choral works, he also wrote for orchestra, organ, and had a long career as a teacher. He began work on his Concerto for String Orchestra in 1934 as a tribute to Elgar, who had recently died. In 1935, Howells suffered the tragic loss of his one-year-old son Michael; subsequently, the middle slow movement bore the dedication In Memoriam: E.E. (1934) and M.K.H. (1935). It is moving music, even anguished in some passages, sandwiched between two much more lively and energetic movements in the typical fast-slow-fast concerto format. 

 

Although Frederick Delius (1862-1934) first composed his String Quartet in 1916, giving the slow movement the title “Late Swallows,” kt was not until 1962, the centenary of the composer’s birth, that the conductor Sir John Barbirolli suggested that Late Swallows be arranged for string orchestra. This arrangement was completed by Delius’s associate and biographer Eric Fenby (1906-1997) in 1963. Like most of Delius’s music, it just seems to have a flow to it that sounds natural and unfettered. As you listen, you are not really aware of melody as such, but the music you hear is melodic and beautiful. By contrast, the Introduction and Allegro by Sir Edward Elgar (1887-1934) sounds quite structured, with various themes and musical ideas working themselves out as the piece progresses. But that is not to imply that the piece sounds at all stuffy or academic. Quite the opposite is the case -- it crackles with energy and gives the performers the opportunity to play with great gusto, which the Sinfonia of London players do, but with a disciplined gusto under Wilson’s baton. 

 

The booklet enclosed with the disc includes background notes in English, German, and French on the music, plus information about the orchestra and conductor in English only. For some strange reason, of the four composers whose music is presented on the program, only Howells rates a photo in the booklet (while Wilson gets three photos spanning four interior pages, plus the back cover page). Perhaps the fact that the inside back cover page states “Generously Supported by the Herbert Howells Trust” explains this apparent anomaly. But that’s a minor quibble indeed. This is a well-played, well-recorded collection of an interesting mix of familiar and less-familiar but nonetheless compelling music for strings.  

 

 

 

 

TÁR: Music from and Inspired by the Motion Picture (CD Review)

By Karl Nehring

Hildur Gudnadóttir: For Petra; Mortar; TÁR; *Mahler: (rehearsals for) Symphony No. 5; **Elgar: (recording session for excerpts from) Cello Concerto in E minor, Op. 85; Johnny Burke and Jimmy van Heusen: Here’s That Rainy Day; Bach: (lesson on) Prelude in C Major; Elisa Vargas Fernandez: Cura Mente. Hildur Gudnadóttir; London Contemporary Orchestra, Robert Ames, conductor; *Dresdner Philharmonie, Cate Blanchett, conductor; Sophie Kauer, cello; London Symphony Orchestra, Natalie Murray Beale, conductor; New Trombone Collective & Friends; Elisa Vargas Fernandez. Deutsche Grammophon 486 3431

It's hard to know just where to start with this review, for this is a not a release that is easy to characterize in any sort of simple, straightforward way. It’s just not a simple, straightforward sort of recording. First of all, it is not a soundtrack album. DG states on their website, “The multi-faceted concept album features music from and inspired by the movie, including a series of stunning new tracks by Gudnadóttir, as well as extracts from major works by Elgar and Mahler. It complements the film by presenting completed, real-life versions of the music on which we see the fictional protagonist Lydia Tár working. One of the aims of the album is to reveal something of the complex process that goes on behind orchestral rehearsals and recordings.”

Perhaps it might be best to pause here for a background sketch of the film for those who may be unfamiliar with it. The plot revolves around the main character, Lydia Tár (played by Cate Blanchett), a conductor who has risen to the very peak of her profession – music director of the Berlin Philharmonic. However, all is not well in her rather messy – to put it politely – personal life; naturally enough, her psychological equilibrium is also increasingly under strain as the plot progresses. Of course, there is much more to the film than that (no, I have not seen it), but you get the general idea. It is not without controversy: Marin Alsop, probably the world’s foremost female conductor, remarked of the film in an interview for the New York Times, “I first read about it in late August and I was shocked that that was the first hearing of it. So many superficial aspects of Tár seemed to align with my own personal life. But once I saw it I was no longer concerned, I was offended: I was offended as a woman, I was offended as a conductor, I was offended as a lesbian.”

Now, back to the CD. Some classical music fans may find the cover photo vaguely familiar. In fact, some may even have the reason for that feeling of familiarity resting on a shelf somewhere in their CD collection. I no longer own the Abbado CD myself, but hey, I knew I had seen that Tár image somewhere, and I knew it was Abbado. As the liner notes, which were penned by the film’s producer/writer/director, Todd Field, declare, “one look at the the album’s cover art will be enough for you to understand that yes, in some parallel universe Lydia Tár was finally able to convince the good people at DG to create a cover adorned with her aped image of Claudio Abbado.”

Musically, the program combines, as it says on the cover, music from and “inspired by” the film, seemingly more of the latter than the former. As Field summarizes it, “the album includes Cate Blanchett conducting rehearsals for Mahler’s Fifth, Gudnadóttir’s making of the score for the film, in addition to music she composed that was inspired by, but not heard in the film, the New Trombone Collective recreating the storied 1967 recording of Here’s that Rainy Day played by the great Urbie Green, and finally Sophie Kauer making her professional debut in rehearsal for the Elgar Cello Concerto.”  Now, you might wonder: Why such a mishmash?  Field’s highlighted answer to that question is, “The tracks, like the film, are meant to invite the listener to experience the messiness involved in the making of music.”

Well, yes, it is a bit of a mess, this CD, but there is some good music to be found in these tracks, too. Gudnadóttir’s contributions are especially interesting. The young (b. 1982) Icelandic composer and cellist contributes three fascinating pieces to start off the program. She sings the melody of For Petra, the musical theme which forms the basis of a composition by the fictional Lydia Tár. The CD also contains a longer version of For Petra that Gudnadóttir has composed for orchestra, which is presented on this recording framed by introductory and concluding remarks by the composer to conductor Robert Ames and the London Contemporary Orchestra at the recording session (apparently intended to illustrate “the messiness involved in the making of music.”) She also contributes a three-movement moving expressive chamber composition titled Tár.

Next on the program are brief excerpts from Symphony No. 5 by Mahler, these now taken from scenes in the film wherein Cate Blanchett as Lydia Tár is rehearsing the orchestra. We get a bit of the opening funeral march, a bit of the scherzo, and of course – what else? – some of the gorgeous Adagietto. We also get Cate Blanchett speaking, imploring the orchestra to play with one voice. At the end of this session, she asks the orchestra members what they would think of having the Elgar Cello Concerto as a companion piece on the upcoming program (uh oh, she has an ulterior motive – things are getting messy indeed!). We then hear some chunks of the work itself, not as satisfying as hearing the whole work, but at least enough to sit back, relax, and enjoy. In fact, Sophie Kauer and the LSO’s 12-minute performance of the Allegro movement is the longest uninterrupted stretch of music on the entire CD. Following a bit more from Kauer’s Elgar audition (which Field in his liner notes justifies by drawing an out-of-left-field parallel with historical recordings in the same studio) we then get an even more out-of-left-field musical selection, Here’s That Rainy Day, played by a small jazz ensemble (truth be told, however, it’s actually quite pleasant) before the program concludes with a song that in the was used in the film in a scene that fictionally portrayed Lydia Tár making a field recording in the Amazon in 1990.

Just as it was hard to know where to start this review, so it is to know just how to end it. This is – by design, really – a release that is difficult to categorize. It is not really a soundtrack, nor is it really a documentary about how music is made. It does have some interesting new music by the young Icelandic composer Hildur Gudnadóttir, so in the end I can perhaps be justified in giving it a solid recommendation as a Hildur Gudnadóttir EP with some stuff from the film Tár thrown in as a bonus. Alternatively, for fans of the movie, I can recommend it as an interesting take on the film from its director with some fascinating new music thrown in as a bonus.

Meanwhile, I’ve reserved the DVD of the film at my local library. Although I will confess that I am not predisposed to like it, I’m willing to give it a try. Will my wife and I be able make it all the way through? We shall see…

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