Recent Releases No. 82 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Mahler: Symphony No. 5. Grand Teton Music Festival Orchestra; Sir Donald Runnicles, conductor. Reference Recordings FR-763SACD

Mahler is one of those composers who looms almost larger than life in the world of classical music – and beyond. Even those without much knowledge of his actual music seem to have heard of him, making him a kind of cultural touchstone, a name to be dropped in casual conversation to establish one’s credentials as a hip intellectual. His symphonies are grand, powerful, colorful, tender, expressive, intimate – the listener can find all manner of emotional and musical expression within Mahler’s world. His Fifth Symphony is a prime example of Mahler’s range of expression, with its opening funeral march, agitated second movement, the tender Adagietto third movement, and rollicking finale. Mahler’s music demands excellent engineering, and as expected, Reference Recordings once again delivers just that. But what about performance? The orchestra is not exactly a household name. However, we reviewed their previous release, also under the baton of Maestro Runnicles, and found it to be quite worthy of recommendation (you can see that review of the Beethoven piano concertos here). Runnicles has the orchestra in fine form; combined with the excellent engineering, you can listen right into the heart of the music. The Adagietto is a bit on the slow side (10:05) but does not feel overly sentimentalized. Overall, this is a fine performance in top-notch sound that will stay on my shelf along with other favorite accounts such as Bernstein (DG), Haenchen (Pentatone), Abravanel (Vanguard), Abbado (DG). and Boulez (DG). Mahler fans would do well to give it an audition.

 

Victor Le Masne: Ravel Recomposed. Ravel: Boléro; Le Jardin Féerique (from Ma Mére l’Oye ballet, M. 35); Assez Vif, Trés Rhythmé; Jeux D’Eau, M. 30); Il Est Bon, L’Enfant. Il Est Sage (from L’Enfant et Les Sortiléges, M. 71); Mouvement de Menuet (from Sonatine, M. 40); Pavane pour une Infante Défunte, M. 19; Adagio Assai (from Piano Concerto in G Major, M. 83); Chanson Hébraïque (from Chant Populaires, M. A17); Le Gibet (from Gaspard de la Nuit, M. 55); Une Barque sur l’Océan (from Miroirs, M. 43); Lever du Jour (from Daphnis et Chloé Suite No. 2, M. 57B). Victor Le Masne, conductor, Fender Rhodes, synthesizers, piano, kalimba, drums; Christine & The Queens, vocals, lyrics (on Boléro); Adrian Edeline, guitar; Scoring Berlin, ensemble, choir; Julius Asal, piano; Colette, lyrics (on Il Est Bon, L’Enfant. Il Est Sage); Laurent Vernerey, bass; Camille Thomas, cello. Deutsche Grammophon 4867530

Those readers who have been following Classical Candor for a long time may well be familiar with the concept of a composer’s works somehow being “recomposed” by another composer. “Now, hold on just a minute, Karl,” I can already hear some of you muttering amongst yourselves, “of course I’m familiar with this concept, a prime example being what Ravel himself did with Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, taking a piano suite and recomposing it into a beloved orchestral score.” Well, you certainly have a point, and if we give the matter a bit more thought, we might come to realize that Ravel never claimed to have “recomposed’ the music of Mussorgsky, but rather merely to have orchestrated it: i.e., taken a Mussorgsky work written for the piano and arranged it for orchestra. A more convincing case for the concept of recomposition can be made for what German-born British composer Max Richter (b. 1966) has done with Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons. Richter says that he discarded about 75% of Vivaldi’s original score when coming up with his recomposed version for solo violin, synthesizer, and chamber orchestra; however, the new version retains much of the flavor of the original. We have reviewed three different recordings of Richter’s delightful composition – or recomposition – over the years: the original version, with Richter on synthesizer, Daniel Hope on violin, and Andre De Ridder conducting the Konzerthaus Kammerorchester Berlin (you can read John Puccio's 2014 review here); an “original instruments” version, this time with Richter playing a vintage Moog synthesizer and solo violinist Elena Urioste and the Chineke! Orchestra playing on gut strings (that 2022 review can be found here); and a recording by French-born violinist Etienne Gara and the Los Angeles-based chamber group Delirium Musicum (you can read that 2023 review here). And along similar lines, we also reviewed an instance of a famous composition being not recomposed, but rather “remixed,” in the case of Gabriel Prokofiev (b.1975), grandson of Sergei, who along with conductor Yaniv Segal and the BBC National Orchestra of Wales present a version of the finale of Beethoven’s Ninth reimagined for electronics and orchestra (you can find that review here).

Perhaps it was the widespread name recognition of Ravel’s Boléro that led to that composition being chosen as the first track on this release; unfortunately, however, Le Masne’s recomposition, which turns it into a melodramatic vocal piece featuring Christine & The Queens, retains the melody but loses all of the building tension which makes Boléro interesting in the first place. It’s the weakest track on the album, not a good way to kick things off. Things get better with the succeeding tracks, with the movements from the String Quartet, Sonatine, and Piano Concerto working especially well in in their arrangements for synths. Devoted fans of Ravel’s music might find these renditions of Ravel’s music of interest, but those new to Ravel would do better to listen to his music in its original settings first. Be forewarned that several of the cuts feature prominent levels of bass – it might be best not to turn the volume up right away. 

Mahler: Symphony No. 3 (Streaming Review)

by Ryan Ross

Vasily Petrenko, conductor; Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. Harmonia Mundi HMM905421.22 

I have a problem with Mahler 3: I love the music in each of its movements, but I don’t really buy into the work’s broader pretensions. That business about what man, animals, flowers, the voice in his head, a little elf, yada yada, tell him? Meh. What we have here is just too many different things strung together somewhat unnecessarily to make the longest symphony in the canon. The recycled Des Knaben Wunderhorn settings could have stayed in that collection and the symphony would still have been “complete.” Heck, the six movements we have were shortened from an intended seven. (Can you imagine?!) Mahler was always a songwriter wearing symphonist garb. In the Third Symphony, he struggled to reconcile song cycle instincts with monumental symphonism, then fashioned a veneer of programmatic cohesion to hold everything together. But I don’t think he quite succeeds in having his cake and eating it, too. Great music is something distinct from a great work concept. 

 

I suspect that Vasily Petrenko doesn’t entirely buy into Mahler 3’s pretensions, either. The very best performances have a thoroughgoing sense of sweep that resists (however vainly) its discursiveness. But this live performance is a study in self-containment. Any of its movements as one-off hearings would work fine. Experienced in succession, however, they amount to a pedestrian journey. And if there’s one thing this symphony won’t bear, it’s pedestrian treatment. 

 

To be honest, I think Petrenko’s occasional refusal to hit the music’s highest heights also lends to a sense of indifference overall. I say “refusal” because he is more than capable of doing so. In moments of juiced drama in his Shostakovich symphony performances, he’s extremely effective. But for some reason, similar proceedings here are more muted. Perhaps tellingly, this happens mostly in the gargantuan opening movement and the drawn-out finale. There’s gusto noticeably missing from the former’s central march, with the climax falling flat. Even in performances where I don’t like some tempo decisions or balance, specifically Jascha Horenstein with the LSO (Unicorn-Kanchana UKCD 2006/7), the colors are comparatively vivid, and the drama palpable. But Petrenko strangely lays off that extra gear. Perhaps, shorn of the jaded irony in Shostakovich’s Mahler-influenced passages, he is less inclined to indulge barer sentimentality. I certainly got this sense in the finale, where the interpretation is “good” but lacking in the pure emotional energy of a Bernstein or Tennstedt reading. A lengthy sendoff to a lengthy symphony calls for something extra. 

 

Petrenko’s middle movements are solid stuff; they convince more than their bookends. Best of all are II and III, where he at least provides sharp (if not superlative) accounts. His movements IV and V are sturdy as well: if you’re unfamiliar with this music you’ll be well served by them…until you listen to more committed accounts. Again, I can’t entirely blame Petrenko here from a personal standpoint. I find the Nietzsche text pompous, and Arnim’s a silly low point in his Wunderhorn collection. But like I always say, if you’re going to perform a piece you should try mightily to take on its assumptions. For these stretches, here is where Haitink and the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks (BR Klassik 900149) shine. The music simply glows in their hands in a way it doesn't in Petrenko’s. (And going back to the Horenstein recording mentioned earlier, I have never heard the darker edges of Movement V illuminated more arrestingly!) Over 90+ minutes of a single work these differences absolutely add up. 

 

In sum, this is not a bad recording at all. Mahler collectors will certainly want it, and everyone else can rest assured of its competency. But in every respect I care about it is outclassed by other options. I haven’t heard Petrenko conduct Mahler 4, but I suspect that work fits him better. It’s a trimmer score that doesn’t sag beneath its own weight, with a lighter complexion that will reward his apparent instinct to avoid wallowing. In fact, I look forward to such a commercial release. In that scenario those who resent both my opinion of Mahler 3 and Petrenko’s treatment of it can compare the two cycle entries side by side and see whether they still think I’m barking. 

Mahler: Symphony No. 7 in E Minor (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich; Paavo Järvi, conductor. Alpha Classics 1207

I was afraid of this: having to write another unfavorable review of a Mahler 7 recording so soon after my last one. I held out hope that Paavo Järvi and the Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich (okay, mostly Järvi) would pleasantly surprise me. For a little while in the first movement they did. But it soon became clear that this would mostly be another of the conductor’s herky-jerky hayrides. And here again I have the sensation of living in the Twilight Zone, with so many other critics celebrating its “freshness” and “personality.” I don’t set out to be negative, you know. But so be it. I’ll lay out my issues, and the reader can decide whether I’m wrong to be feeling gaslit yet again. 

 

As any long-suffering sports fan knows, the keenest disappointments tend to follow raised expectations. The opening movement fostered such hopes: “maybe he’ll deliver after all,” I thought. It’s solid, if a little lacking in atmosphere. The best part (here and anywhere) is the sehr breit five measures following Rehearsal 39. This is convincingly lovely. Järvi also respects (barely) the multiple Nicht eilen! indications, showing a discipline I wish he would have held onto for the rest of the symphony. This first movement plus the finale constrain him in a very particular way: they feature ample changes of mood and direction. At root Järvi is an atomist. The more a piece of music lets him be so, the better his interpretations sound. 

 

Which explains why the next movement is where things start to go off the rails. These Nachtmusik passages really need a consistently delicate touch. Järvi is simply not the man for that. The horn and other solo calls are not only too loud but unduly protuberant. The feeling is one of overworked elements, with stilted dynamics and articulation. His pace is also too fast, and more importantly too uptight. Järvi doesn’t have much respect for the “molto moderato” tag at the beginning, and he blows right past the nicht eilen at Rehearsal 79. Also, you can forget about any sense of sehr gemächlich. The worst comes at Rehearsals 84-85. The horn calls are supposed to be enchanting; instead they sound like foghorns. If you’re looking for nocturnal wonder, you’ll instead be held hostage by a man with excessive nervous energy. 

 

This third movement is almost as bad for the same reasons. Its quick motives should sound a little sharp, perhaps. But Järvi never met an accent or crescendo he couldn’t overdo, or a warning against excessive tempi that he couldn’t ignore. I mean, come on… Mahler even UNDERLINES aber nicht schnell at the start! The trio section is better. But then the main theme races back too breathlessly. I’m not sure that the “shadowy” indication calls for such a spasmodic approach. Excessive aggression robs this music of its spectral quality. 

 

The Serenade might be the low point. If there is any amoroso to this andante amoroso, I can’t feel it. If someone played the signature ostinato outside my nighttime window in this choppy and wooden manner, I’d close the shutters and turn to the ballgame on my TV. As for the rest, I think I used up all of my adjectives for “brusque” and “rushed” in the previous sections. By sheer contrast, the merely competent finale feels like the best relief in the world. 

 

I want to root for Järvi. I love his charisma and energy. But I just can’t get on board with his conducting style when it comes to Romantic repertoire. (And let’s drop the modernist nonsense: this is Romantic repertoire.) His direction is too burdened with erratic microgestures, and a distracting tendency to engage in sequences of pent-up energy followed by precipitous release. It’s like sprechstimme in conducting form – the musical equivalent of talking like that creepy dwarf in Twin Peaks. Is this what we’re reduced to now – waiting cheerfully for the next installment of a Mahler cycle we all know is mannered? Maybe I’m near-sighted, but all I see is a naked emperor.

Mahler: Symphony No. 7 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross 

Mahler: Symphony No. 7 in E Minor. National Symphony Orchestra; Gianandrea Noseda, conductor. National Symphony Orchestra NSO0022

The conventional wisdom is that Mahler 7 is an enigmatic work. But as I have said elsewhere, it is not terribly enigmatic if you do a little homework and apply some imagination. In his program notes to the present release, Thomas May provides a bit of the former, pointing out Alma Mahler’s and Henry-Louis de la Grange’s testimony that the first four movements show the composer preoccupied with positive tropes from favorite German literature: “visions of Eichendorff’s poetry, rippling fountains, German Romanticism.” So far so good. But then May seems as hung up by the “affirmative” finale as La Grange and Theodor W. Adorno were before him. Why does this boisterous span abruptly end the symphony? Well, maybe it’s not really affirmative. If we remember that Mahler had been conducting Tristan und Isolde with great success in the years surrounding this symphony’s composition and recall what goes on in the second act of Wagner’s opera, it’s not far-fetched to see the diurnal finale as tragic in its own way. The enchanting realm of night vanishes. A forbidden tryst comes to an end. Magic gives way to bustling mundanity. 

 

Gianandrea Noseda has the bustling mundanity part of the Seventh down pat. Maybe too pat. Little in this performance suggests familiarity with Eichendorff, Novalis, or their world. Here’s the issue in a nutshell: the fast parts are too frenetically empty, and the slow parts aren’t atmospheric enough. The bolder, march-like sections in the first movement need a more bracing sound, with articulation that is sculpted instead of clangy. There is a deficit of conception here and in the Schattenhaft (“shadowy”) third movement. I was not reminded of shadows so much as a drying machine cycle. Similar misgivings manifested throughout. 

 

More disappointing still are the two Nachtmusik (“night music”) movements. Noseda almost entirely misses the importance of several elements in them. The ethereal horn calls of the first often appear with the cowbell. Mahler had a special affinity for the cowbell, associating its sounds with the last things heard as one leaves civilization to venture beyond. The timbres need a certain sensitivity here. Instead, they’re slightly plunky. Ditto the distant trumpet calls at Rehearsal 95. Think of the posthorn in Eichendorff’s Sehnsucht, or the background hunting horns in Act II of Tristan. True, the closing measures of the movement come closer to this ideal, but many other opportunities were missed. The second Nachtmusik simply needs more warmth and elegance. Clocking in at 12:08, it just zooms by, making the gentle ostinato figures seem more like a sewing machine than the evocation of evening fountains and breezes. Again, the articulations are too choppy and somewhat dry. 

 

The finale comes off better for two reasons. First, if the orchestral players are skilled (which they certainly are here), it is the hardest part to mess up interpretively. Second and relatedly, it blunts the negative impact of Noseda’s slightly spasmodic approach to quicker passages. In other words, things are supposed to sound a bit bombastic; this covers for him to a large extent. That all said, the articulation here still feels a bit less than polished; even a hectic farewell needs more differentiation than Noseda can give it. The best way to illustrate this is by calling attention to a secondary melody’s later entry at Rehearsal 269. This is a kind of rapid march parody that Noseda and his group nail. But too often the rest of the symphony (never mind the movement) sounds too much like this particular juncture! We need greater range than he can supply. If the finale’s daylight is tragic precisely because it dissolves the nocturnal world, then a conductor must make that nocturnal world palpable. Noseda doesn’t.

 

The Mahler symphonies have become a runaway bandwagon. Listening to one lackluster recording after another, I keep thinking how a command of the little things in this music adds up to big things, and how few conductors actually wield this command. If the Seventh is not as enigmatic as many let on, it nonetheless requires a robust toolkit to bring off convincingly in all its facets. I don’t need a third hand to count the recordings that truly accomplish this. Two of these remain towering benchmarks: Abbado with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra (DG 445 513-2), and Leonard Bernstein with the New York Philharmonic (DG 419-211-2). Several more are fine indeed, but the group remains rarefied. Certainly Noseda and the NSO haven’t entered it.

Mahler: Symphony No. 9 (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring 

Park Avenue Chamber Symphony; David Bernard, conductor. Recursive Classics RC3691873

To be honest, when I first received this CD for review, I wasn’t quite sure what to think. To be sure, the Mahler Ninth is one of my most treasured pieces of music, a symphony that moves me both emotionally and intellectually, one that I have listened to – and owned – many recordings of over the past 50 or so years. It’s not a work that I can just casually pop on and listen to dispassionately for the purposes of taking some notes and writing up a review. That’s one issue. Then there was, I will shamefacedly admit, some “David Bernard/Park Avenue Chamber Symphony” skepticism on my part, which was basically two-fold. First, could a small ensemble like this really pull off a Mahler symphony? Second, with excellent recordings already on the market from the likes of Karajan/Berlin, Abbado/Lucerne, Haitink/Concertgebouw, etc., how could this release be expected to be truly competitive? 

But as my colleagues here at Classical Candor have found when they have reviewed recordings by Maestro Bernard and his Park Avenue musicians, this is no lightweight ensemble. Bill Heck found that they did an impressive job with the final three Tchaikovsky symphonies (a review you can find here); even more relevant to the present release, John Puccio found their earlier Mahler 5 recording to be quite competitive (you can find that review here). As a matter of fact, the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony comprises nearly 90 musicians, a respectable size for a modern symphony orchestra. So why the name “Chamber Symphony?” Music Director Bernard explains that the name is intended to convey the idea of the transparency of sound that he strives for with the orchestra.

 

That 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. 

In his liner note essay included in the CD booklet, noted music critic David Patrick Stearns discusses the extra-musical mythos that has become associated with this work owing to the influence of the man who did so much to popularize Mahler’s music in America, the late conductor Leonard Bernstein, who famously characterized – and later went on to conduct  -- the four movements of the Ninth Symphony as “Four Ways to Say Goodbye.” Stearns argues for a different way of looking at the work, taking into account Mahler’s deep regard for the music of Bach and close relationship with Richard Strauss; in fact, Stearns offers an alternative characterization of the Ninth as “Four Ways to Write a Tone Poem.” (By the way, the program notes for the digital version of this release are more extensive than the CD version, including an essay by Maestro Bernard and information about the orchestra.) 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. Highly recommended!

Colorado MahlerFest XXXVI (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring 

Thea Musgrave: Phoenix Rising; Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 2 “Resurrection.” April Fredrick, soprano; Stacey Rishoi, mezzo-soprano; Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra; Boulder Concert Chorale; Kenneth Woods, Artistic Director & Conductor. Purchase information can be found here.

 

We have previously encountered American conductor Kenneth Woods in his role as conductor of the English Symphony Orchestra, where he has often championed the works of contemporary composers. But Woods wears another hat as Artistic Director of the Colorado MahlerFest and conductor of their orchestra. Colorado MahlerFest is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization founded in 1988 that presents an annual, weeklong festival celebrating Mahler’s life and music as well as the works of composers who influenced Mahler and by composers whom Mahler in turn influenced. The orchestra is anchored by the “festival artists” who comprise the section principals and leaders. These musicians, who are all either major orchestra principals, professors, or experienced chamber musicians, do much of the recruiting for the orchestra in addition to anchoring the chamber music concerts that are also part of MahlerFest. In 2005, the International Gustav Mahler Society of Vienna awarded Colorado MahlerFest its rarely bestowed Mahler Gold Medal. MahlerFest was honored alongside the New York Philharmonic, joining such past recipients as the Vienna Philharmonic and Leonard Bernstein. Last year, we reviewed MahlerFest XXXV, which featured a truly ambitious program: the grand Symphony No. 3 by Mahler along with the world premiere concert performance of Symphony No. 10 by the late English composer Christopher Gunning (1944-2023). 

This time around we are reviewing their latest CD release, which was recorded at the featured concert of MahlerFest XXXVI. As their online publicity material described it, “MahlerFest XXXVI celebrates humanity’s capacity for resilience and renewal in a festival week that culminates with Mahler’s monumental Symphony No. 2 and Thea Musgrave’s Phoenix Rising. The theme for that concert, which was held on Sunday, May 31, 2023, was “Rise Again,” which captures the spirit of the music that is featured on this release. 

The Scottish composer Thea Musgrave (b. 1928), who has lived in the United States since 1972, writes of her composition Phoenix Rising, “my original sketches for this work imagined an extended single movement progressing from darkness (low and fast) to light (high, slow, and peaceful). This idea became focused dramatically in my mind only some months later, when, by chance, I saw a sign ‘Phoenix Rising’ hanging outside a Virginia coffee shop. As I like to interpret the ancient fable of the phoenix rising from the ashes as the promise of hope and rebirth, this sign struck me immediately as a visualization of what my piece was really about. Phoenix Rising is a single-movement orchestral work of about 23 minutes. The centerpiece is the magical moment when the phoenix rises. After an initial section wherein the orchestra depicts a world of stormy violence leading to a terrain of emptiness and despair, a short section marked mysterious starts with low set chords. As they gradually rise to a luminous chord played by pitched percussion (marimba, vibraphone, xylophone, and glockenspiel), imagine the fabled bird unfolding his giant wings, poised for flight. The second half of the work, in contrast, builds to a romantic climax and a coda of serenity of peace.” Although the work leans toward the abstract side, it does not lack for drama or color. The clarity of the recording helps – and by clarity, I do not mean exaggerated, close-up sound. Rather, there is a natural sense of the orchestra spread out before you, with sounds coming from many locations within a large space, much as Musgrave describes. It is a colorful, at times dramatic score; however, those who favor hummable melodies will be disappointed.

 

Then comes the main attraction, the Mahler. Conductor Woods comments that “Following a performance of the first three movements organized by his friend and colleague Richard Strauss in Berlin in March 1895, the complete symphony finally received its premiere in December. That performance was also organized by Strauss. As this year’s speaker Renate Starke-Voit writes in the introductory notes to the New Critical Edition, ‘Few masterpieces have ever premiered under such inauspicious circumstances.’ How could it have been otherwise for a work whose last line can perhaps be best translated for today’s readers as ‘everything that you fought for, that is what will carry you to God’.” Regardless of your level of belief in God, nature, nothing, anything, or whatever, it is hard not to be moved by a stirring performance of this majestic symphony, which is just what Maestro Woods and his assembled musicians deliver. Everything sounds balanced, tempos sound well-judged. It is a very good, very well-recorded performance. Yes, I’d like to hear a big organ sound in the finale, and no, it won’t displace the Klemperer/EMI as my absolute favorite – but it’s still well worth an audition. The MahlerFest website is also well worth checking out (you can find it here.)

Recent Releases No. 72 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

   

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

 

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

 

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

Recent Releases No. 58 (CD Reviews)

 by Karl Nehring

What Music Tells Me. Beethoven: Egmont Overture; Wagner (1813-1883); Elsa’s Procession to the Cathedral (from Lohengrin); Messiaen: Apparition de L’eglise Éternelle (Apparition of the Eternal Church); Healey Willan (1880-1968): How They So Softly Rest; William C. White (b.1983): Flood of Waters (Noah and the Flood); Brahms: Variations on a Theme by Haydn (“St. Anthony Variations”); Mahler: Symphony No. 2 “Resurrection” – Urlicht, Finale (Andante). Chicago Brass and Organ Ensemble; Stephen Squires, conductor. MSR Classics MS 1750

 

This is one of those releases that on first glance, I simply did not quite know what to expect. Having grown up in northwest Indiana I was familiar with the gargoyles that look down upon downtown Chicago pedestrians, so the name of the ensemble struck me as perfectly appropriate, but the musical program, although intriguing, left me hesitant as to how it would come across when played by organ and brass. Well, only one way to find out, so I stuck the disc in my CD player and hit PLAY button. Here we go… From the familiar opening measures of Beethoven’s Egmont Overture, I was delighted by how enjoyable it was to hear this familiar music presented this in this different sonority. It just sounded right. Somehow the energy of the brass and the organ captured the fervor of Beethoven’s score in a fresh, exciting way that did not sound at all gimmicky or contrived. And so it went through the rest of the program, with highlights including the Messiaen, whose spiritually informed music lends itself especially well to being arranged for brass and organ, and the Brahms, upon which this arrangement throws a new light. The most ambitious arrangement is the Mahler, which is certainly interesting to hear, but try as I might, I could never quite get past the lack of voices. Still, I admire the audacity and skill of these players in presenting this magnificent music in this form. Fans of the composer Mahler will no doubt recognize his influence on the title of this release; indeed, let me close my review of this highly recommendable release with these words from its liner notes: “Leader Rodney Holmes has curated this collection of masterworks following the inspiration of Gustav Mahler who said, If a composer could say what he had to say in words, he would not bother trying to say it in music.”

 

Luminous. Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson (1932-2004): Toccata; Samuel Coleridge Taylor (1875-1912): 24 Negro Melodies, Op. 24 – No. 1, At the Dawn of the Day; No. 3, Take Nabandji; No. 4, They Would Not Lend Me a Child; No. 8, The Bamboula; No. 12, Don’t Be Weary, Traveler; N0. 13, Going Up; Ulysses Kay (1917-1995): 8 Inventions – I. Allegro; II. Moderato; III. Andantino; IV. Scherzando; V. Grave; VI. Moderato; VII. Larghetto; VIII. Presto: Nnenna Ogwo (b. 1970) Benediction; Brahms: Chaconne (from J.S. Bach’s Violin Partita No. 2, BWV 1004) arranged for the left hand alone. Nnenna Ogwo, piano. MSR Classics MS 1819 

An American pianist of Caribbean and African descent, Nnenna Ogwo (b. 1970) has put together an album that is refreshing and stimulating, featuring a program that is somewhat off the beaten path yet comfortable and eminently listenable, an album that can be enjoyed by a wide variety of music lovers. Much of the reason Luminous is such an accessible release is that it is a deeply personal release. In her program notes, Ogwo explains, “The program has all the elements of music that bring the art to such vibrant life; joy and pain, song and dance, the substantive and the ephemeral. This album is the utterance that I could not make when my mother left this plane of existence. It is music that she loved or that I know she would have loved. It is a curation that reflects my cultural heritage, my personal history at the instrument and the depth of my love and admiration for her. I hope it speaks to you.” The program opens energetically with Perkinson’s Toccata, which sounds something like a cross between Bach and ragtime – it’s a fun piece. The Melodies of Coleridge-Taylor are expressive, colorful, but not excessively showy. Especially fascinating are the 8 Invention of Ulysses Kay, all but one under two minutes in length, each a compelling little jewel. Wonderful! Ogwo’s Benediction is a brief (1:51), heartfelt, calming piece; given its title and mood, I’m surprised it was not placed at the end of the program. Instead, the program ends with the Brahms transcription of the Bach, played with the left hand. There are times when the piano sounds something like a harpsichord. Although this transcription is interesting, it feels a bit out of sync with the rest of the program. Still, all things considered, Ms. Ogwo has delivered an album that is well worth a listen.

MahlerFest XXXV (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

(CD1) Mahler: Symphony No. 3, Mvmts. I-II; (CD2) Mahler: Symphony No. 3, Mvmts III-VI; Christopher Gunning: Symphony No. 10. Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra; Women of the Boulder Concert Chorale; Boulder Children’s Chorale Festival Choir; Stacey Rishoi, mezzo-soprano; Kenneth Woods, conductor. 

We have previously encountered American conductor Kenneth Woods in his role as conductor of the English Symphony Orchestra, where he has often championed the works of contemporary composers. But Woods wears another hat as Artistic Director of the Colorado MahlerFest and conductor of their orchestra. Colorado MahlerFest is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization founded in 1988 that presents an annual, weeklong festival celebrating Mahler’s life and music as well as the works of composers who influenced Mahler and by composers whom Mahler in turn influenced. The Colorado MahlerFest Orchestra draws together young professionals, conservatory and university students, and advanced amateurs. In 2005, the International Gustav Mahler Society of Vienna awarded Colorado MahlerFest its rarely bestowed Mahler Gold Medal. MahlerFest was honored alongside the New York Philharmonic, joining such past recipients as the Vienna Philharmonic and Leonard Bernstein. Last year, we reviewed their recording  MahlerFest XXXIV, which featured Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 along with Symphony No. 5 by the British composer Philip Sawyers (see that review here). In November, 2022, MahlerFest XXXV featured a truly ambitious program: the grand Symphony No. 3 by Mahler along with the world premiere concert performance of Symphony No. 10 by the late English composer Christopher Gunning (1944-2023).

The Mahler and Gunning symphonies are quite different in scale, the former a six-movement work featuring not only a large orchestra but soloists and choirs, while the latter is a relatively brief one-movement work for orchestra alone. To present a credible performance of the mighty Mahler Third is a formidable challenge, but Maestro Woods and his MahlerFest forces prove themselves up to the task. Stacey Rishoi deserves special mention for her spot-on handling of her vocal part. In addition, the engineering team has done an excellent job of capturing a live performance in excellent, full-bodied sound. There are of course many fine commercial recordings of this symphony available, and many Mahler fans will already have their favorites, but this recording would not be embarrassed in that company. Moreover, you can see this performance, which you can view here. It is quite an unforgettable, uplifting experience.

 

But in addition to a fine performance of the Mahler, the program also includes the Gunning Symphony No. 10. Gunning, sadly enough, was too ill to attend the performance, and later succumbed to renal cancer in March, 2023. I was fascinated to discover that among Gunning’s many accomplishments was writing the theme music and many of the soundtracks for the TV series I watch every Saturday night, Agatha Christie’s Poirot (the world’s greatest detective deserves the world’s greatest theme music, n’cest-pas?).

 

On his website, Woods has posted a tribute to the late composer:

 

“It was heartbreaking to learn of the death of Christopher Gunning, although I’d been aware he had been unwell for some time. Chris was the sort of person one felt lucky to know. He could be incredibly funny, even wicked. His vault of amazing and amusing anecdotes was second to none. As a composer for film, television and commercials, he was an incredible craftsman who took the work incredibly seriously. Likewise, his hugely wide-ranging work as an arranger for all kinds of pop stars and showbiz legends. So much so, that his doctors told him that he had to leave that world or face serious cardiac repercussions. Leaving behind the mad deadlines of commercial music, Chris turned his enormous talent to concert music. I should say ‘returned’ his talent, because he had a deep training and grounding in classical composition, knew the repertoire inside out and had always kindled a flame to write more for the concert hall.  I became a convert when Chris sent me a recording of his monumental Fifth Symphony with him conducting the RPO. It’s a powerful and serious work – a real symphony. And it turns out, one of thirteen real symphonies.

 

It was a huge honour when Christopher asked me to conduct the recording of his 2nd, 10th and 12th symphonies. We had an amazing few days recording these three powerful and varied works with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales, culminating in a wonderful and unforgettable celebration meal afterwards.

 

Shockingly but unsurprisingly, none of the orchestras who had recorded his music seemed inclined to programme it. In fact, not a single one of those thirteen symphonies has been professionally played live (to my knowledge) until last year.

 

I was so excited last year when I was able to programme his 10th Symphony, one of his favourites (and his favourite of the 3 on our CD) at Colorado MahlerFest last year. By the time the dates were in the diary, Chris was too unwell to travel to Boulder, and by the time the video of the concert was ready, he was not up to watching the performance. I so wish he could have seen the enthusiasm of the musicians and heard the reaction of the audience. In the face of the music world’s ambivalence, Chris had always had to fight his own corner and build his own projects. I’d like to think the reaction in Boulder would have helped reassure him that his wonderful music will continue to be played even though he’s no longer around to drive things. I shall miss him terribly.”

 

If you would like to gain for yourself more of a sense of just what kind of person Christopher Gunning was, and learn some more about his music, you can take a look at this promotional video in which the composer discusses the recording of his Symphonies Nos. 2, 10, and 12 that Maestro Woods mentioned above. In addition, you can read the review that our own John Puccio did of this recording back in January, 2020 (John's review can be seen here). The performance of Gunning’s Symphony No. 10 on this release clocks in at just under 21 minutes. It is an introspective piece overall, but never static – it clearly has flow and direction, keeping the listener engaged. You can see a video of the performance here. 

 

The music is engaging, the sound quality is excellent; the only quibble I have with this release is the lack of liner notes. Still, this is a unique and uplifting recording that is not just another same old same old. Should that sound appealing to you, please visit the Colorado MahlerFest website for more information.

 

Recent Releases No. 52 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Mahler: Symphony No. 9. Osmo Vänskä, Minnesota Orchestra. BIS-2476 SACD 

Many classical music fans may be familiar with the backstory behind this symphony by the Austrian composer Gustav Mahler (1860-1911). Concerned about his health as he worked on the successor to his Symphony No. 8, and haunted by the idea that to complete a ninth symphony would portend the end of his life, he decided to christen his newborn symphonic offspring “Das Lied von der Erde (‘The Song of the Earth’)” rather than call it a symphony. But then, proclaims Mahler scholar Jeremy Barham to begin his extensive and insightful booklet essay: “The stars of compositional refinement, depth, virtuosity, and in tuition were aligned for Mahler in 1909-1910 to form what for many is the pinnacle of his creative achievement: the Ninth Symphony, his last completed work.” Vänskä and his Minnesota forces have recorded several of the Mahler symphonies before; two of those recordings having been reviewed in Classical Candor, Symphony No. 1 here and Symphony No. 7 here (and briefly here). Like their recording of the Seventh, they do themselves proud in this new release, aided in no small measure by the BIS engineering team, which has plenty of experience capturing the sound of this orchestra. There are so many Mahler recordings out there, and serious classical music fans, especially those with a passion for Mahler, no doubt already have their favorite recordings of his Symphony No. 9. My personal favorites, for example, have been López-Cobos/Cincinnati (Telarc) and Boulez/Chicago (DG). This new BIS release is in that same exalted league and will remain on my shelf. For someone who is fairly new to Mahler and is looking for a recommendation for the Ninth, this new BIS recording would be a fine one for sure, particularly for the person who might be interested in listening in SACD 5-0 surround-sound format (my listening, however, was done from the CD layer).

 

Jacob Young: Eventually. Eventually; I Told You in October; Moon Over Meno; One for Louis; Schönstedtstrasse;Northbound; The Dog Ate My Homework; The Meaning of Joy; Inside. Jacob Young, guitar; Mats Eilertsen, double bass; Audun Kleive, drums. ECM 2764 488 3269 

 

Jacob Young (b.1970) is a Norwegian guitarist who has made four albums as a leader for the ECM label, the first all the way back in 2004, but those previous recordings (the most recent of which was released in 2015) all involved ensembles that included keyboards and/or horns that could shoulder their share of the melodic and harmonic load. This newest release, however,  presents Young’s first pass at the guitar trio format, leaving him alone in the spotlight – not to mention that he composed all the music on the album. Young lays out both the challenges and opportunities involved in such an effort: “It took quite a while to make a new album after Forever Young, because I had to get older. I had to dare to just play with bass and drums – no piano or horns. When Mats and Audun agreed to do this recording with me in the classic guitar, bass, and drums trio format, it was important for us not to go ahead and make ‘just another guitar-trio record’, but to make it sound fresh, like something we’ve never done before. When I am the only chordal instrument it gives me more freedom playing these harmonically dense pieces, because when playing single lines during an improvisation and only having the bass beneath more notes are available. Then I can throw in a chord that sounds good with the bass without having to adjust to a piano’s voicing and sound, or any other chordal instrument. We treated the material like equals. I was the leader in the sense that I composed the music, but more than anything, it’s about the interplay with these two masters.” Although Young clearly is the leader, with his guitar playing the melodies, as in the single-note runs of the opening cut, Eventually, or the chordal strumming as exemplified in The Meaning of Joy, or both picking and strumming, as in The Dog Ate My Homework – throughout the album, it is the interplay among the three musicians that truly brings the mostly laid-back music to life, all captured in clean, clear, comfortable sound. 

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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