Rendezvous: Jazz Meet Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, & More (Streaming Review)

by Karl Nehring

Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 / Piano Sonata “Moonlight”;Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker - Dance of the Reed Flutes; Beethoven: Sonata No. 8 “Pathétique” 2nd Movement; Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake; Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet - Dance of the Knights; Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition - The Old Castle; Prokofiev: Piano Concerto #2; Ravel: Pavane Pour Une Infante Defunte. Jo-Yu Chen, piano; Chris Tordini, bass; Tommy Crane, drums. Sony Music Taiwan: Digital, G010005486913X; Vinyl, 19802883371 (available on Spotify and Bandcamp). The album is available to stream on Apple Music as lossless 16-bit/44.1 kHz. Also available on Qobuz for streaming and download purchase at the same resolution. (Not available on CD.)

As a young child in Taiwan, Jo-Yu Chen began piano lessons at the age of five and added oboe lessons at the age of nine. At the age of 16, she moved from her native Taiwan to the United States to train at Juilliard on both piano and oboe. Her background was in classical music, but she soon but was developed a passion for jazz and began studying jazz piano under the tutelage of jazz keyboard master Sam Yahel. She also completed a Ph.D. in Music Education from Columbia University. Her musical talents were recognized and she was signed by Sony, for whom with her bandmates listed above plus some guest jazz luminaries featured on some tracks she released her first four albums: Obsession (with drummer Tyshawn Sorey, 2011), Incomplete Soul (2012), Stranger (with guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel, 2014) and Savage Beauty (with saxophonist Mark Turner, 2019), all of which featured her own compositions. In 2024 she returned to her love for the classical canon with an EP titled Schubert & Mozart: 'Round Midnight, which featured her trio playing her jazz takes on themes from selections by those Viennese masters. It’s quite a different approach than you might expect; not just a “jazzy gloss” on classical melodies, but an exuberant 21 minutes of jazz based on a serious reimagining of those melodies. Think Schubert meets Brubeck – but that’s just a starting point. And really, truly, what she and her bandmates create on that EP sounds totally original; again, not just a jazzy gloss on classical melodies, but music that sounds delightfully fresh and original.

 

About her new album, Chen observes, “this recording project started somewhat by accident. I've always been hesitant about making a cross-genre album unless it felt truly special. Coming from a classical background, I approach reinterpreting classical works more cautiously than composing my own. The classical world guards its history and masterpieces fiercely, and that pressure feels heavier than creating something new. So I thought, if I'm going to do this, it has to have depth, beauty, and lasting power. When I first started on this album, I was constantly drawn to Beethoven-his music, creativity, and rebellious spirit. He wasn't just a composer; he was a trailblazer, a rock star of his time who transcended his era, bridging the Classical and Romantic periods with boldness and vision. Beethoven's pioneering spirit of innovation and his strong sense of aesthetics are precisely what I want to channel into the next chapter of my musical journey. Looking back, this album is my response to my previous EP, Schubert and Mozart.

I’ll have to admit that what I expected to hear when I auditioned this album for the first time was simply a jazz gloss on familiar themes. I was more than pleasantly surprised to find out how wrong I was when I discovered from the very first measures of the opening track, Symphony No. 5 / Piano Sonata “Moonlight,” that Chen, Tordini, and Crane were not glossing; rather, they were taking musical ideas from Beethoven (and Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev, and others) and reshaping them into entertaining, bracing jazz cuts. Furthermore, the trio plays as a trio, with all three members making solid contributions – it’s not just Chen’s piano in the lead with bass and drums keeping time.

 

This truly is a release that should prove rewarding to jazz and classical fans alike. My only reservation is its relatively short duration, just under 39 minutes, which I suppose makes sense when you think of it as a vinyl LP release, which is apparently how Sony Music Taiwan views it. What I would love to see happen would be for Sony to combine Rendezvous with Chen’s previous Schubert & Mozart EP into one hour-long release that they could then market not only as a digital release (download and streaming) but also as a CD. In any event, I highly recommend that both jazz and classical music lovers would do well to arrange a Rendezvous.

Russian Soul (CD review)

Music of Tchaikovsky, Gliere, Scriabin, Mussorgsky, Shostakovich, and Gedike. Corey Cerovsek, violin; Constantine Orbelian, Moscow Chamber Orchestra. Delos DE 3244.

No, we're not talking about rhythm and blues or gospel music here. We're talking about, well, the animating principal of traditional music, particularly of Russian traditional music.

The accompanying booklet to this 1999 Delos release asks the question, What are the most obvious traits of Russian music, with the answer "emotionally intense, melodically rich, often dark in sound and melancholic in mood." That aptly sums up the short Russian works on this disc, with an emphasis on the melancholy.

Constantine Orbelian

American-born Constantine Orbelian (of Russian and Armenian parentage) leads the Moscow Chamber Orchestra (Orbelian being the first American ever to lead a Russian ensemble) in a series of pieces, some familiar, some not, by a variety of Russian composers. Tchaikovsky's "Meditation," Serenade Melancholique," "Elegie," and "Andante Cantabile" will certainly be familiar to most listeners; as will the several bits by Gliere, Scriabin, Mussorgsky, and Shostakovich. But there are also folk tunes like "The Rush Light" and a "Miniature" by Gedike that will perhaps come as new delights. Corey Cerovsek's dramatically plaintive violin is no less a contributing factor to the authority of the program than the Russian players behind him.

Delos's sound, engineered by John Eargle, closely matches the climate of the music. It is warm, smooth, flattering in its soft ambiance, and entirely realistic. Eargle apparently recorded it for optimum playback in surround sound, as the disc is marked a "Virtual Reality Recording." But it is a tribute to the developing technique of multi-channel processing that no evidence of this system is noticeable during regular two-channel stereo listening. There is no shroud of enveloping fog veiling the music as one sometimes hears from this VR recording process. Indeed, the sonics, while not the ultimate in transparency, always appear quite natural.

Altogether, this is a pleasant if somewhat somber recording of mostly soulful, though not doleful, Russian favorites. The good sound is icing on the cake.

JJP

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

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (CD review)

Also, Debussy: Symphonic Fragments. Gunter Wand, NDR-Sinfonieorchester. RCA 74321 72788 2.

Maybe it was RCA's supersmooth 1999 sonics on this disc that prevented me from liking the Mussorgsky tone paintings very much, just as the similar 1982 sonics helped me to like the Debussy fragments. Say what you will, the purely aural qualities of a disc can as much affect a listener's appreciation of a work as the interpretation itself.

Whatever, the big draw here is the late German conductor Gunter Wand's live recording of Modest Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition, orchestrated by Maurice Ravel. Perhaps surprisingly for Wand, whom most listeners might know best for his recordings of Beethoven, Brahms, and Bruckner, he had a soft spot in his heart for many years for the Mussorgsky piece, and only late in his career did he get around to recording it (digitally). Unfortunately, I found myself wanting a more vigorous approach to these miniature portraits, especially in the big numbers like "The Hut on Fowl's Legs" and "The Great Gate at Kiev."

To me, between RCA's plush, velvety sound and Wand's slow, precise articulation, much of the color appears squeezed out of the drama. The conductor comes off best in the moody "Old Castle" and the lovely, spring-day walk in "The Tuileries Garden." Compared to, say, Reiner's celebrated recording on the same label from over four decades earlier, Wand seems too deliberate (or just plain old). Likewise, a comparison to Riccardo Muti's performance on EMI reveals much more characterization and a whole lot more zest in Muti's rendering.

Gunter Wand

However, the Debussy fragments are another matter and benefit from Wand's measured, contemplative approach as he creates a dark, haunting, highly evocative atmosphere typical of the composer. The fragments, pieces of The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian, include four movements: "The Court of Lilies," "Dance and Finale" from the first Act, "The Passion," and "The Good Shepherd." Debussy based them on sketches he had made, later completed by one of his pupils, Andre Caple. As a side note, when his orchestral-ballet was first performed, apparently it caused quite a scandal, what with a seminude female dancer as Saint Sebastian.

Anyway, as I said, RCA's sound is ultrasmooth and recorded live, the Mussorgsky in 1999 and the Debussy in 1982. I've never been much in favor of live recordings, so the disc had that strike against it going in. Coughs and wheezes are clearly evident throughout both works. There is an exceptionally good orchestral spread in both recordings, though, with a reasonable sense of depth and limited highlighting of instruments and, especially in the newer effort, good dynamics and a terrific bass drum in the Mussorgsky. The whole affair is certainly easy on the ear, but I wish I had taken more of a fancy to Wand's rendering of the Pictures.

JJP

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

Danse macabre (CD review)

Music of Saint-Saens, Mussorgsky, Dukas, Dvorak, Balakirev, and Ives. Kent Nagano, Montreal Symphony Orchestra. Decca 483 0396.

Witches and devils and demons. Oh, my!

This album showed up just in time for Halloween. Kent Nagano and the Montreal Symphony Orchestra present a program of mostly familiar and some maybe unfamiliar symphonic music inspired by traditional supernatural folk tales. It's fun stuff, although listeners will probably find they already have most of the material on their shelves. Still, it's nice having it all in one place, even if Decca chose to record it live in concert.

I have long enjoyed the work of the Montreal Symphony. In fact, the very first CD I ever played in my home featured them, at the time led by Charles Dutoit. That was back in the early 80's, as I recall, a Decca/London recording of Ravel's Daphnis et Chloe, which I still have. The Montreal Symphony remain a terrific ensemble, so it's always good to hear them again.

I've also long enjoyed the work of Kent Nagano. He was the longtime conductor of the Berkeley Symphony (from the late 70's to the mid 2000's), a local group for me, so I had the pleasure of hearing Maestro Nagano on many occasions. He always added an extra spark to the music that made it enjoyable, no matter what the subject matter. He continues that tradition with the Montreal players.

So, first up on the agenda is The Sorcerer's Apprentice, a tone poem by French composer Paul Dukas (1865-1935). As with Mussorgsky's Night on the Bare Mountain below, the Apprentice may have achieved a measure of immortality through Leopold Stokowski's performance of it in Walt Disney's Fantasia. Here, Maestro Nagano gives us a smooth, atmospheric rendering of the work. It perhaps lacks some of Stokowski's dramatic flair, but it conveys more than its fair share of requisite thrills. What's more, the Montreal forces are in fine form, sounding luxuriously rich and exuberant.

Next, we get The Noonday Witch, a tone poem by Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904). This one relies a good deal on mood to tell its gruesome story of a mother who warns her unruly son that if he doesn't behave she'll call on a witch to quiet him. When the demon actually appears, the mother becomes so overwrought with fear, she winds up smothering the child to death. Sweet. Although I thought Nagano could have used a bit more melodrama here, the music is grim enough to pretty much take care of itself.

Kent Nagano

After that is the Halloween favorite A Night on the Bare Mountain by Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky (1837-1881). In Rimsky-Korsakov's reorchestration, it's the centerpiece of the program, and again Nagano has to contend with the specter of Stokowski for our attention. Still, Nagano whips up a good deal of excitement in this unwholesome Sabbath, and its witches and devils frolic gleefully about.

Then we come to what may be a less well-known number, the tone poem Tamara by Russian composer and pianist Mily Balakirev (1837-1910). Less well known, perhaps, but considered by many musical scholars as one of Balakirev's best works. It tells the legend of Tamara, a beautiful but evil queen who lures men to their deaths and tosses their bodies from her castle into the river below it. Under Nagano's guidance the piece runs along elegantly at first, becoming more ominous as it goes along and reaching its theatrical climaxes with appropriate flair.

After that we find the album's title tune, Danse macabre, by the French composer, organist, pianist, and conductor Camille Saint-Saens (1835-1921). In this one, Death calls forth lost souls with the fiendish music of his violin, and under Nagano it's probably the most effectively frightening track in the album. It can be scary stuff.

Things conclude with what may be for most listeners the least-famous piece on the program, Hallowe'en, one of Three Outdoor Scenes by the American modernist Charles Ives (1874-1954). It's very brief and every bit as eccentric as you would expect it to be from this composer. Nagano makes it more than palatable.

Producers Dominic Fyfe and Carl Talbot and engineers Carl Talbot and Christopher Johns recorded the album during concerts presented at the OSM's new home, the Maison symphonique de Montreal in October 2015. It's a shame, really, about the audience presence because the listener always feels aware of them during quieter passages. It's not terribly intrusive, but for people like myself who prefer hearing the best possible sound without distraction, the coughs and rustling are a little annoying.

For comparison purposes, I first listened to a few excerpts from the 1980 Daphnis et Chloe album I mentioned earlier. Although it was a different venue for the Montreal Symphony back then, I found the older sound big, warm, detailed, and pleasantly ambient. Ironically, although (or because) the newer release has a live audience, I found it less realistic. The newer sound is closer, brighter in the midrange, and slightly harder. It still retains a good degree of concert hall bloom, and it's certainly transparent enough, yet it didn't make me feel as though I were really in the same room with the performers.

In short, the newer Decca recording with Nagano and the Montreal Symphony, despite its cleanness and clarity, did not sound as natural to me as the older one with Dutoit. Then there's the matter of the applause at the end of the Nagano concert, but I suppose we can at least be grateful to Decca for not including applause after every selection.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click on the forward arrow:

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (CD review)

Also, Night on the Bare Mountain (arr. Rimsky-Korsakov); Khovanshchina Prelude (orch. Shostakovich), Gopak from Sorochintsy (orch. Liadov). Valery Gergiev, Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. Philips 289 468 526-2.

Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition (1874) has been an excellent work for the recording medium because it easily demonstrates what most music lovers and hi-fi buffs alike appreciate most. It has all the tonal color, orchestral virtuosity, and aural dynamics to keep everybody happy. Conductor Valery Gergiev must realize this because he has recorded it at least four times, and this 2003 release with the Vienna Philharmonic manages to satisfy most of the criteria for good music listening. Whether Gergiev will satisfy everyone is another question.

You know, I'm sure, that the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) wrote Pictures at an Exhibition in 1874 originally as a piano suite. He called his little collection of tone poems "sound pictures," but they didn't catch on too well with the public until years later when several different people orchestrated the suite, the most famous and most often recorded arrangement being the 1922 version by French composer Maurice Ravel, which we have here. Mussorgsky based the movements of the suite on his musical impressions of paintings by his friend, the artist and architect Viktor Hartmann. The idea is that someone (the composer? the conductor? the listener?) is wandering through a picture gallery viewing the paintings, which the composer recreates in music, going so far as to give us a musical number, a "Promenade," to accompany our stroll from time to time.

Every conductor interprets Mussorgsky's work differently, giving us his or her own personal take on the paintings, adding nuances of phrasing, rubato, contrast, dynamics, etc., to recreate as vivid a picture as possible of each painting. How well you like Gergiev's approach may depend upon how you view the pictures yourself from past experience. Among my own favorite recordings of the music are those by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony (RCA and JVC) and Riccardo Muti and the Philadelphia Orchestra (EMI), but everybody surely has a preferred account with which to compare any other. For me, Gergiev's various pictures hold up well enough interpretively, if not quite so vividly as my own favorites.

The single most important quality for any recording of Pictures is that the conductor makes sure every movement, every "portrait," sounds expressively developed and subtly shaded enough to bring to life the subject of the painting. In this regard, Gergiev is reasonably successful. Just don't expect the usual pyrotechnics from the piece; Gergiev prefers in this reading to evoke a big, earthy, yet still refined set of tonal images.

Valery Gergiev

Like his other recordings of the piece, Gergiev takes the "Promenades" at a fairly leisurely pace as the viewer (or whoever) strolls about the exhibition gallery; and most of the individual sections are picturesque enough if not always particularly creative. In other words, everything is neat and tidy, but there is not always that extra spark in every piece. Fortunately, Gergiev has the wonderful Vienna Philharmonic to bring the music to life, and they come through splendidly.

I liked the eeriness of "Il vecchio castello" and the fun in the "Ballet of the Chicks, although I still missed the sense of character contributed by a conductor like Fritz Reiner (RCA). Likewise, Gergiev's "Baba Yaga" and "Great Gate of Kiev," while still meaningful, seem to lack much of the kick that a conductor like Riccardo Muti (EMI) put into them. Well, you see what I mean; Gergiev's recording is fine but not among my favorites.

Philips recorded the music live in the Musikverein, Vienna, April, 2000, and released it on both a regular stereo CD and a hybrid multichannel SACD; I listened to the regular stereo CD. As far as the sound goes, it's good without being absolutely topflight, perhaps the live recording being a part of the problem. Things appear dynamic enough, to be sure, well balanced, very slightly veiled, and, thankfully, quiet. Yet there is a lack of truly deep bass that tends to rob a few movements in Pictures of their power and eloquence. The "Catacombs" segment, for example, really needs that low bass underpinning, as do the final two movements, "Baba Yaga" and "Great Gate of Kiev"; and it is here that both the Reiner and Muti discs again sweep the field.

So, the recording remains a slightly mixed bag for me. I expected Gergiev to be outgoing, red-blooded, but I found him a bit more conservative than I would have liked. Still, these are minor quibbles, I suppose, for folks looking for a serviceable digital recording of the Pictures, with three good, spirited couplings in A Night on the Bare Mountain, the Prelude to Khovanshchina, and the Gopak from Sorochintsy Fair to boot. Come to think of it, the couplings may be better interpreteted than the star attraction.

JJP

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

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (SACD review)

Also, Songs and Dances of Death; Night on Bare Mountain. Ferruccio Furlanetto, bass; Valery Gergiev, Mariinsky Orchestra. Mariinsky MAR0553.

It seems like I've reviewed an uncommon number Mussorgsky recordings lately, most of them of Pictures at an Exhibition. Understandably, it's a popular piece of music, here rendered by Maestro Valery Gergiev and his Mariinsky Theatre Orchestra (now known more simply as the Mariinsky Orchestra) in the popular orchestral version by Ravel. How popular is the piece? Mr. Gergiev himself has practically made a career of it, recording the work previously on various labels with the Vienna Philharmonic, the Kirov Orchestra, the London Philharmonic, and the Leningrad Philharmonic. Practice makes perfect, I suppose.

Anyway, you already know that the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) wrote Pictures at an Exhibition in 1874 originally as a piano suite. He called his little collection of tone poems "sound pictures," but they didn't catch on too well with the public until years later when several different people orchestrated the suite, the most famous and most often recorded arrangement being the 1922 version we have here by French composer Maurice Ravel. Mussorgsky based the movements of the suite on his musical impressions of paintings by his friend, the artist and architect Viktor Hartmann. The idea is that someone (the composer? the conductor? the listener?) is wandering through a picture gallery viewing the paintings, which the composer recreates in music, going so far as to give us a musical number, a "Promenade," to accompany our stroll from time to time.

Each conductor who approaches the music gives us his or her take on the paintings, adding nuances of phrasing, rubato, contrast, dynamics, pauses, etc., to recreate as vivid a picture in our mind of each painting. How well you like Gergiev's approach may depend upon how you view the pictures yourself from past experience. Among my own favorite recordings of the music are those by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony (RCA and JVC) and Riccardo Muti and the Philadelphia Orchestra (EMI), but everybody surely has a preferred account with which to compare any newcomer. For me, Gergiev's account holds up well enough interpretively, if not quite so vividly as my own favorites.

After many years of refining his reading of Mussorgsky, you'd think he'd have it down pat by now. And maybe that's the problem. The reading sounds a little too pat to me. Tempos are never too fast nor too slow. Shadings of character and description are never too extreme nor too restrained. Things are essentially just right. Too right. While there is hardly a thing to fault, the whole rendition does not seem to me as colorful, as exciting, as impressive, as graphically pictorial as it might be, could be, or should be. But I'm probably overreacting. Most listeners will find the performance flawless, which it no doubt is.

Gergiev's best characterized sections I thought were "Children quarreling after play," if more like a somewhat subdued bickering; "The ballet of unhatched chicks," always pleasant fun; "The Market at Limoges," full of energetic bustle; "Catacombs" and "With the dead" enveloped in dark mystery; and "The hut on fowl's legs," which takes off splendidly.

Valery Gergiev

The other segments, though, left me a tad unmoved, and the concluding "Great Gate of Kiev" seemed more than a touch underwhelming.

More to my liking were the accompanying pieces, the four-movement Songs and Dances of Death (orchestrated by Dimitri Shostakovich) and Night on Bare Mountain (in the composer's own final version). In the former, bass Ferruccio Furlanetto handles the pathos, tragedy, and drama of the music with deep sympathy. In the latter, Gergiev conjures up a genuinely frightening sense of menace and dread.

Producers James Mallinson (Songs and Dances) and Vladimir Ryabenko (Pictures, Bare Mountain), and engineers Jonathan Stokes and Neil Hutchinson (Songs and Dances) and Vladimir Ryanbenko (Pictures, Bare Mountain) recorded the music in the Concert Hall of the Mariinsky Theatre, St. Petersburg, Russia between 2010 and 2014. They made it in DSD (Direct Stream Digital) for SACD (Super Audio CD) playback. But since this is a hybrid disc, the listener can play it back using either an SACD player for multichannel or two-channel stereo or a common CD player for regular two-channel. I listened in two-channel SACD from a Sony SACD player.

There is good clarity involved, the midrange free of edge, brightness, or dullness. Left-to-right stereo spread is also fine, with a realistic frequency balance and a moderate degree of depth perception and hall resonance. My only two areas of concern, at least initially, were with the dynamic range and the deep-bass response, both of which sounded a bit limited to me until the very end. Fortunately, they come to life when the music needs them most, in "The Hut" and "Great Gate." Overall, the sonics are fairly natural, and they probably reflect the sound of the Marinsky players pretty accurately in their own hall.

JJP

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

Russian Recital (CD review)

Jorge Federico Osorio, piano. Cedille CDR 90000 153.

Jorge Federico Osorio is a virtuoso pianist of international repute, with any number of fine recordings to his credit. Although he has released discs for Vox, ASV, Regis, O.M., Artek, EMI, and others, lately he's been recording for Cedille. In my experience listening to the man's performances, he has never demonstrated anything but sensitive, committed playing. He continues that tradition here, performing four Russian pieces by Prokofiev, Shostakovich, and Mussorgsky.

The first item on Osorio's program is the Piano Sonata No. 6 in A major, Op. 82, by Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953). One of the composer's "war sonatas" because he wrote it near the beginning of the Second World War, the piece displays an uncommon belligerence, at one point Prokofiev instructing the pianist to strike the keyboard with his fist. The work's four movements have an inevitability about their forward momentum, and Osorio nicely conveys that sense of continual motion and power. He punctuates everything with a kind of nervous energy that heightens the violence of the mood. Still, when it comes to the third-movement waltz, Osorio takes it softly and slowly, emphasizing the melancholy of the music, the degree of human suffering that war produces. Then it's back to that nervous energy again in the finale, where Osorio accents every note with an urgency of feeling and imagination.

Next is "Romeo and Juliet Before Parting" from Ten Pieces from Romeo and Juliet, Op. 75. The ballet music couldn't be more different from the sonata in mood, so it makes a fine contrast. More important, Osorio plays it with a comfortable longing. It's beautiful, moving music, played beautifully and movingly.

After that is the Prelude and Fugue No. 24 in D minor by Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1957). These tunes were the composer's homage to Bach, with nods to Chopin and Debussy. They are a brief collection of descriptive musical episodes based in part on Russian folk tunes. Osorio's wide-ranging performance easily encompasses the varied passions of the numbers, connecting the dots efficiently as he goes along and unifying what can sometimes sound like a merely eclectic and disconnected set of parts.

Jorge Federico Osorio

Concluding the program, we find the real highlight: the original piano version of Pictures at an Exhibition, subtitled "A Remembrance of Viktor Hartmann," by Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881). It is, of course, a suite of "pictures," tone poems, based on drawings and watercolors by the artist and architect Viktor Hartmann. Although the world probably knows the several orchestral versions of the work better than the piano version, the piano version holds its own pretty well, especially when played as expressively as Osorio plays it.

One needs to understand going in, however, that Osorio's walk through the gallery is not so much a leisurely stroll as it is almost a sprint. In other words, he takes the "promenades" at a fairly brisk pace. But, fortunately, when it comes to the actual "pictures," he slows down to contemplate each piece and does a pretty good job with their characterizations. While perhaps the clarity of Osorio's vision (and playing) is a trifle too astringent at times for a full appreciation of every nuance Mussorgsky intends, it does add to the vividness of each scene. "The Ballet of the Chicks in Their Shells" is especially persuasive, as are "Bydlo" and "The Catacombs." I found "The Marketplace," though, a little too busy. As for the big finish, "The Hut on Fowl's Legs" and "The Great Gate of Kiev," Osorio does them up pretty well, even though I longed for a bit more excitement and grandness in these closing pages, which Osorio unexpectedly takes at a slightly less lively gait than he provided at the start. Nevertheless, he captures much of their color, and that's what matters most.

What else do we need to know about the sound except that Bill Maylone engineered it? OK, it's a Cedille release, produced by James Ginsburg, and Maylone did the sound. That combination automatically makes it a good recording. The sound comes through with the kind of crystalline clarity that only a good piano in an acoustically desirable room can provide. While there is a mild ambient bloom present, the overall impression one gets is of utmost transparency, with quick transients and strong impact on the keys. Maylone has miked the instrument at a modest distance, so the piano is neither too large nor too distant. The listener is close enough to enjoy the full force of the piano yet far enough way for the instrument to take on a sweet, resonant bloom.

JJP

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

Decca: Supreme Stereophonic Legacy (UltraHD review)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sir Georg Solti

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JJP

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

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (CD review)

Also, original piano version; Night on Bare Mountain; Tchaikovsky: The Seasons. Alexander Warenberg, piano; Igor Markevitch, Gewandhaus Orchestra Leipzig. Brilliant Classics 94931 (2 CD set).

As you no doubt know, the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) wrote Pictures at an Exhibition in 1874 originally as a piano suite. He called his little tone poems "sound pictures," but they didn't catch on too well with the public. Years later, several people orchestrated the suite, the most famous and most often recorded being the 1922 version we have here by French composer Maurice Ravel. The value of the present set, beyond a pretty good rendition of the orchestral arrangement, is having both the original piano version and the Ravel orchestration together, albeit on separate discs. The other two items, Night on Bare Mountain and Tchaikovsky's The Seasons are icing on the cake.

Anyway, the set begins with the Ravel orchestration of Pictures at an Exhibition, performed by Igor Markevitch and the Gewandhaus Orchestra Leipzig. Mussorgsky based the various sections of the suite on his musical impressions of paintings by his friend, the artist and architect Viktor Hartmann. The idea of the work is that one is wandering through a picture gallery viewing the paintings, which the composer recreates in music, going so far as to give us a musical number, the Promenade, to accompany our stroll from time to time.

I had never heard Markevitch's recording of Pictures before, but I had long admired the Maestro's work. So it didn't surprise me that I liked his interpretation as much as I did. There is more energy in this reading than in most other renditions, even among my favorites like Reiner (RCA), Muti (EMI), Ansermet (Decca), and Maazel (Telarc, LIM).

And it's not just that Markevitch takes each section at a fast clip; he invests each little tone picture with genuine personality, too. For instance, the "Promenades" are quick but unhurried excursions around the gallery; "The Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks" is merrily affectionate; "The Market" exhibits a wonderful feeling of busy scurrying about; and "The Hut on Fowl's Legs" conveys an appropriate sense of manic dread. In fact, it's only in the final segment, "The Great Gate of Kiev," that Markevitch begins to seem a little perfunctory, not quite capping off the proceedings in as grand a style as I might have liked. Nevertheless, that's not to say it's a dull ending, just not quite as emotion-packed as I'd have liked. Overall, this is a fine rendering of an old favorite.

The other selection on disc one is Mussorgsky's Night on Bare Mountain, here done in the familiar reorchestration by Rimsky-Korsakov. It's another musical picture that Mussorgsky wrote a few years before Pictures at an Exhibition, this earlier one depicting St. John's Eve on Bald Mountain; that is, a witches' Sabbath occurring on St. John's Eve, which the composer finished up on that very night, June 23, 1867. Whatever, Markevitch rips through the piece in short order, serving up most of the music's images in exciting fashion. It's not really as frightening as it could be, though, as the conductor seems more interested in producing thrills over developing much fear or suspense.

Igor Markevitch

Disc two offers us a pair of piano solos by pianist Alexander Warenberg. The first one is the original piano version of Pictures at an Exhibition. Warenberg's way with the Pictures is rather gentle, as though he were handling museum pieces with kid gloves. They sound lovely in their own way, but they don't always convey the emotions I associate with the music. Warenberg's interpretation possesses little of the vivid character I heard more recently as part of a recital by pianist James Brawn on MSR. Still, there's a certain piquant charm in Warenberg's more-cautious, laid-back readings, particularly in the "Hut" segment, where he finally comes alive. It doesn't stop him from a rather sedate rendition of the concluding "Gate," though.

The second item on disc two is The Seasons by Peter Tchaikovsky (1840-1893). It's a set of twelve relatively brief character pieces for solo piano that the composer wrote in 1875. I enjoyed Warenberg's Tchaikovsky more than I did his Mussorgsky. The pianist appears to be a most-sensitive soul, and his temperament seems to suit the nature of Tchaikovsky's music. It's lonely and melancholy, shining and enthusiastic by turns, nicely reflecting the moods of each of the months.

Markevitch made his Mussorgsky recording in 1973, releasing it originally on an Eterna LP. Warenberg recorded his piano version of the Mussorgsky plus the Tchaikovsky piece for Brilliant Classics in 2000; Brilliant Classics reissued them both on the present two-disc set in 2014. The sound in the orchestral numbers is vibrant, alive, rich, and resonant. It's also a tad brighter and more forward than one usually hears from the Gewandhaus Orchestra, which generally sounds a bit darker and more golden-hued than this. Nevertheless, the detail shines through admirably, and despite a slightly close miking arrangement there is plenty of orchestral depth. Additionally, you'll find a fairly wide dynamic range, reasonably strong impact, and a decent sense of hall ambience. The piano sound is lighter, more distant, quieter, and more rounded. It's more of a mild, easy listening sound than the orchestral material.

JJP

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

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (CD review)

Also, Night on the Bare Mountain (original and Rimsky-Korsakov versions) and several shorter works. Theodore Kuchar, National Symphony Orchestra of Ukraine. Naxos 8.555924.

This is another one of those modestly priced Naxos releases that helps define the word "bargain." To begin with, it will delight hi-fi buffs because the sound is exceptionally clean. Not only are the dynamics strong and the frequency response wide, there is virtually no bass hangover to cloud the midrange. This can be a blessing and a curse, naturally, depending on your standpoint. The transparency of the sound is superb, but without the bass resonance, there isn't a lot of concert hall feel to the music. An audiophile friend of mine once told me he didn't like attending live orchestral events because the sound of real music was too muddy for him; it sounded better in his home. He'd like this disc. I, on the other hand, prefer the added warmth of a little bass overhang and hall reverberation. Personal taste.

Nevertheless, there's no denying Maestro Kuchar's disc sounds great and, more important, its musical content will satisfy a lot of people because there's something here for everyone. The first two items are Night on the Bare Mountain, performed first as originally composed by Modest Mussorgsky and then as later reorchestrated by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. Although most of us have multiple copies of the familiar Rimsky-Korsakov version, the original is harder to find, the best one still being with David Lloyd-Jones and the London Philharmonic on an old Philips album. But to have both versions on one disc along with the Pictures at an Exhibition is somewhat unique. This was the first time I'd ever actually listened to the two versions of Bare Mountain side by side, and it amazed me how different they are and how much I had underappreciated the composer's original version. Mussorgsky's view is much the coarser, more awkward, of course, but considering the content of the tone poem--a Witches' Sabbath, after all--it works pretty well.

Theodore Kuchar

In addition to Bare Mountain and Pictures, the disc contains two short pieces, the "Hopak" from Sorochintsy Fair and "Golitsin's Exile" from Khovanchchina, both of them done up by Kuchar in fine, vivid, vivacious style.

The Pictures at an Exhibition, as you know, is a series of musical paintings, and Maestro Kuchar does well with them, each episode except the last being quite well characterized. I thought the "Great Gate of Kiev" a trifle underpowered, but the interpretation may have suffered from what was for it an unfortunate comparison: Just about the time I first listened this 2003 Naxos disc, I had just listened to Fritz Reiner's celebrated RCA Living Stereo account with the Chicago Symphony on what was then a newly remastered (and very costly) JVC XRCD compact disc. The old Reiner recording is a marvel of technical accomplishment and musical know-how that clearly upstaged the new entry in every way, albeit at almost five times the cost on JVC and with no fillers.

Nevertheless, Kuchar's account, especially in the early going, holds its own against almost any competition and should please practically anyone who doesn't already have a favorite Pictures. For the money, one can hardly go wrong.

JJP

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

James Brawn in Recital, Volume 1 (CD review)

Music of Mussorgsky, Bach-Busoni, Liszt, and Rachmaninov. James Brawn, piano. MSR Classics MS 1501.

Although British pianist James Brawn is hardly a young man anymore (b. 1971), he has only recently begun a recording career with MSR Classics, so I suppose you can excuse people like myself for not recognizing his name until now. But belated or no, he appears to be off to a flying start with his first few albums. He's been winning awards since he was a child, teaching, and performing (mainly in New Zealand, Australia, and England) to great acclaim, and this new recording makes one understand his appeal. He is a consummate artist.

Mr. Brawn begins his recital on Volume 1 (of what will presumably be a series of such concerts) with the Chaconne from the Violin Partita No. 2 in D minor by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750). A chaconne is an early dance form, probably Spanish in origin, in moderate triple meter, this one the concluding item from a set or suite of numbers for violin. Ferruccio Busoni arranged the piece for piano in 1893, and pianists have cherished it ever since.

The variations within the Chaconne allow Brawn the flexibility to offer a brilliant display of pianism, the artistry always present yet never interfering with or distracting from the music itself. Brawn's performance is alternately dark and dramatic, the pianist responding quickly and delicately to each new inflection in the score.

After that are two works by Franz Liszt (1811-1886), starting with the familiar Mephisto Waltz No. 1, which is about as opposite the preceding Bach as you can get, filled as it is with Romantic, melodramatic touches. While the very devil is in the fiddle here, as it should be, Brawn is careful not to exaggerate the ornate flourishes for pure show. The piece is a little symphonic poem that gracefully yet energetically tells its story of Faust and Mephistopheles at a wedding party. Brawn's interpretation brings out all the lush, eerie beauty in the piece, as well as the passion and excitement.

Then comes the only slightly less-familiar Consolation No. 3 in D-flat Major. If it reminds you of Chopin's Nocturne No. 2, as it did me, it's no coincidence. Not only are the tone, tempo, and key the same, the melody itself is quite similar. In Brawn's hands, it's exquisitely beautiful and expressive.

Next, we come to the centerpiece of the recital, Pictures at an Exhibition by Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) in its original piano score. Of course, the piece wouldn't really become as popular as it is today without its various and later orchestral transcriptions, but the piano version is no slouch, either. Obviously, it's the most pictorial of the works on the program, featuring a gallery of portraits that describe people, places, and events. It requires the pianist create little tone pictures of diverse moods and character, a process in which Mr. Brawn succeeds admirably.

Here's also where Brawn gets to show off a bit, with each portrait perfectly judged and perfectly well characterized. Sections that stood out for me include the mysteriousness of "The Old Castle," the humor of "The Ballad of the Unhatched Chicks," the hustle and bustle of "The Marketplace," the creepiness of "The Catacombs," and the exhilaration of "The Hut on Fowl's Legs." I would liked to have heard a bit more splendor and grandeur in "The Great Gate of Kiev," but otherwise this is among the best piano versions of the Mussorgsky piece I've experienced.

Finally, Brawn closes the recital with the Prelude in B minor by Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943) and the Prelude in C Major by J.S. Bach, which brings us full circle. Brawn's program is impressively varied, showing off all of the pianist's technical prowess as well as his sensitivity to the nuances of the piano. His playing is virtuosic and exciting at times, yet soft and lyrical when necessary. But most of all, it's simply fun to listen to. Fans of piano music cannot miss.

Producer Jeremy Hayes and engineer Ben Connellan made the recording for MSR Classics at Potton Hall, Suffolk, UK in August 2012. The piano sounds crisply articulated, with solid impact and a firm transient response, without being bright or forward in any way. Moreover, we hear a pleasantly mild ambient bloom around the notes, making the sound not only well defined but moderately warm and natural, too. The miking is not so close as to stretch the piano across the room, making for an even more realistic presentation.

JJP

To listen to several brief excerpts from this album, click here:

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (CD review)

Also, Songs and Dances of Death; The Nursery. Orchestrated and conducted by Peter Breiner, New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Naxos 8.573016.

As I’m sure you’re aware, the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) originally wrote Pictures at an Exhibition in 1874 as a piano suite. He called his little tone poems “sound pictures,” but they didn’t catch on too well with the public. Years afterward, several people orchestrated the suite, the most famous and most often recorded versions being the one by French composer Maurice Ravel in 1922 and to a lesser extent the one by Leopold Stokowski in 1939. From Ravel’s orchestration on, the music took off and became the basic-repertoire piece we know today. And that brings us to the current recording, a new orchestration of the work by the noted Slovak pianist, composer, and conductor Peter Breiner, which Breiner conducts with the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra.

In a booklet note, Maestro Breiner tells us, “In this recording I was trying not to re-create Mussorgsky’s orchestral sound, but a contemporary sound instead. I wanted to achieve this without using any unusual instruments and to stay within the limits of the traditional symphony orchestra, but with a substantial expansion in woodwind and percussion as well as unusual combinations and settings.... At the end a body of 104 musicians produces quite a spectacular sound in The Great Gate of Kiev.” How well you may like this new version and how you take to Breiner’s playing of it are, of course, matters of taste. From my own perspective, I found it a bit more difficult to get over Maestro’s Breiner’s rather overly relaxed conducting than his own orchestration of the music.

For example, I can't help thinking that some listeners might be a little disappointed with the opening Promenade, which Breiner takes at an almost-funereal pace, at least compared to more-common interpretations from the likes of Reiner, Ansermet, Slatkin, Maazel, and such. Not that Breiner's approach isn't justified, however; many people enjoy taking their time wandering through art museums, studying and enjoying each picture in their own leisurely fashion. It’s just that in terms of a musical performance, it doesn't always make for the most exciting or dramatic reading.

And so it goes, with Breiner providing slower than usual tempos throughout but compensating with huge dynamic contrasts as well. The results are certainly different, making some things like The Gnome more characterful (or grotesque, depending) than usual. Moreover, The Old Castle is appropriately gloomy; the peasant oxcart is properly lumbering, even more so than is customary, its pace punctuated by loud thumps from the percussion section; The Ballet of the Chicks is sweet and dancing; the marketplace bustles with energy and activity; and the Catacombs are suitably dark and eerie.

Which brings us to the two closing items, The Hut on Fowl's Legs, the hut of Baba Yaga the witch, and then the imposing Great Gate of Kiev, both of which come off well enough in Breiner's new version and under his easygoing direction. The Hut is especially impressive with its new percussive elements, and even though The Great Gate is slower than we normally hear it, it conveys a significant power and grandeur.

As I mentioned, Breiner says he wanted to create a more contemporary sound with his new orchestration, which he probably does. With all the added woodwinds, it's a smoother, warmer, more sophisticated sound, yet it's one that can also appear leaner than we get from Ravel, despite the expanded number of players. Then, too, while Breiner was going for a more contemporary sound, the added bells and percussion tend to make the whole affair seem more reminiscent of nineteenth-century Russia than modern Russia. In any case, it's a calm, plush, well-upholstered sound that is easy on the ears, helped further by the Naxos engineers.

Coupled to the Pictures we get two lesser-known Mussorgsky works: Songs and Dances of Death and The Nursery, both made up of songs arranged for orchestra by Maestro Breiner. They fluctuate from light and lovely to heavy and grim, always a touch melancholy, and continually fascinating.

Producer Wayne Laird and engineer Paul McGlashan recorded the music for Naxos at the Michael Fowler Centre, Wellington, New Zealand in February 2012. The sonic experience they obtained is typical of Naxos: big and bold, with a wide stereo spread, a mild reverberation, and, in this case, a good depth of field. Although the midrange is a tad soft, the bass and treble sound well extended. Good, strong dynamics complement the presentation and provide for a reasonably realistic hall sound.

JJP

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

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (CD review)

Also, Night on Bare Mountain; Boris Godunov Symphonic Synthesis; Entr’acte to Khovanshchina. Symphonic transcriptions by Leopold Stokowski. Oliver Knussen, the Cleveland Orchestra. DG B0002123-02.

Most folks are probably familiar with Maurice Ravel’s orchestration of Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky’s piano portraits, Pictures at an Exhibition, but fewer people have probably heard Leopold Stokowski’s orchestration of them. Of course, we all know Stokowski’s rendering of Night on Bare Mountain from having seen Fantasia, and if that kind of thing appeals to you, then this disc might be right up your alley.

Critics often complained about Stokowski (and still do, long after his death) for his glamorizing of classical music, either by changing the music itself or by interpreting it differently than other conductors. Be that as it may, the fellow had (and still has) quite a following of loyal fans. Indeed, much of the man’s recorded work still impresses me, and I can understand why so many listeners adore him. This disc of Stokowski’s orchestral transcriptions of several Mussorgsky works will either convert you or send you packing.

Stokowski made his version of Pictures at an Exhibition in 1939, more than a decade and a half after Ravel did his familiar reworking. My first and lasting impression of Stokowski’s version was one of greater fluency, greater poetry, and greater romanticism than the Ravel orchestration. Stokowski utilizes a lot more lush strings, which leads to much of this feeling. However, on most recordings it’s hard to tell how much of this effect is the result of Stokowski’s orchestration, or, in the case of this recording, the result of the Cleveland Orchestra and Maestro Oliver Knussen.

Anyway, the combination of Stokowski, the Cleveland players, Maestro Knussen, and the DG engineers provides us with an ultrasmooth, ultrasophisticated Pictures, much different from the Ravel arrangements I’ve gotten used to from the likes of Reiner (RCA), Muti (EMI), Maazel (Telarc), and Ansermet (Decca). In the process of refining the score, Stokowski and company render it less volatile, less explosive, and, well, less colorful. In fact, much of the color seems washed out of the work compared to the aforementioned renditions. However, the listener might find “The Hut on Fowl’s Legs” fascinating for its herky-jerky dynamism, and certainly “The Great Gate of Kiev” comes across with a splendid grandeur.

More interesting for me was the shorter Entr’acte to Khovanshchina, which is direct, to the point, and incisive. Maybe it’s too short, though, for its own good. Knussen handles the other works, Night on Bare Mountain and the Boris Godunov Symphonic Synthesis quite well, too, although I doubt many potential buyers are looking just for these things.

I also wonder how much the DG engineers are responsible for the music’s smoothness, to the extent of having little apparent bite. The sound is so polished and comfortable and so multi-miked, one is in danger of calling it mood music. Yet the sound does not lack a deep bass or a strong dynamic impact. Curious. I think some listeners will respond to it quite favorably, especially if they have become tired of listening to the hard, shrill, bright sound found on some CDs. I didn’t find DG’s sound at all objectionable; I just didn’t find it particularly natural or realistic.

To listen to several brief excerpts from this album, click here:

JJP

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition (CD review)

Also, Night on the Bare Mountain; Khovanshchina Prelude. Ernest Ansermet, Orchestre de la Suisse Romande. Decca UCCD-7240 (Japan).

A few weeks before this writing a reader asked me if I had ever heard conductor Ernest Ansermet’s 1959 recording of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition because he thought it was quite good. Yes, I had, but I also had to admit it was many years earlier on an old London LP, and I hadn’t thought about it since then, probably because I didn’t care much for the sound. Anyway, I told him I’d try to get hold of the compact disc and give it another try. You’ll find the recording these days on a regular British CD from Decca, an Australian Eloquence CD from Decca, a remastered SACD from Esoteric, a remastered copy in various formats from HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers), and the one reviewed here from Japanese Decca.

As you know, Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) originally wrote his Pictures at an Exhibition as a piano suite in 1874. He called these vivid tone poems “sound pictures,” but they didn’t go very far with the public. Afterwards, several people orchestrated the suite, the most famous and most often recorded version being the 1922 one we have here by French composer Maurice Ravel. From that point, the music took off and became the basic-repertoire piece we know today. Anymore, because the Mussorgsky/Ravel work became so popular, almost every conductor and orchestra in the world have recorded it, so the competition is understandably intense, with recordings by Fritz Reiner (RCA/JVC, 1957), Riccardo Muti (EMI, 1979), and Lorin Maazel (Telarc/FIM, 1978) heading up my personal list of favorites. It was, therefore, the Reiner, Muti, and Maazel recordings to which I compared the Ansermet rendering.

Interestingly, the first thing one notices about the Ansermet recording is that his Suisse Romande orchestra sounds smaller than the others, almost chamber size. It's not really the size of the group or the quality of the venue, however, and Victoria Hall, Geneva is one of the finest recording locations in Europe. It's just that the Suisse Romande group doesn't have the big, plush, rich sonority of a Chicago or Philadelphia Orchestra, nor do they create quite so luxurious an impression.

The performance is another story. Ansermet handles the Promenades and gnome well, the visitor casually browsing the pictures, the misshapen dwarf extraordinary. The Old Castle has a proper mystery about it; the quarreling children are a bit tame but fun; the ox cart sounds appropriately lumbering; and the ballet of the "Unhatched Chicks" is cute. The two Polish Jews have their rich man-poor man chatter, which comes off with befitting personality; the marketplace is lively; and the catacombs are nicely spooky.

Then we come to the big finish, the "Hut of Baba Yaga," the witch flying through the air looking for human bones, and the "Great Gate of Kiev" with its majestic climax of processions and bells. Here, Ansermet is particularly effective, creating a truly grand, thrilling experience. It's a good rendition, overall, although I still wouldn't quite place it the category of a Reiner or a Muti.

The real highlight of the disc for me was the accompanying material, particularly Night on the Bare Mountain in the Rimsky-Korsakov arrangement. Ansermet takes his time to shape the music and make it both spiritual and scary. Lastly, the program closes with the Prelude  "Dawn over the River Moscow," which Ansermet shapes with beautiful, pictorial grace.

Decca producers James Walker and Michael Bremner and engineers Roy Wallace and James Lock made the recordings in Victoria Hall, Geneva, Switzerland in 1959 (Pictures) and 1964 (Bare Mountain, Khovanshchina). The sound is reasonably clean and clear for old recordings.  A bit of noise reduction has clarified the sonics in Pictures nicely, removing most (but not all) hiss without sacrificing much high-end extension. During quietest passages, one still notices the background noise, though, and as with most noise reduction, it has sucked out a touch of midrange air and life. It's little to fret over, though, and the quick transient attacks, wide dynamics, and general lucidity more than make up for it. When Decca first released the LP, I recall reading that it was something of a demonstration piece. Unfortunately, by the time I heard it on LP, it was in re-release and perhaps not so well pressed. Now we have it in pretty good shape, which most listeners will find pleasing enough. The sound in the two couplings, from about five years later, is noticeably quieter, smoother, and fuller.

Bottom line: It’s all a matter of personal taste, of course, but for my money, I’d rank my own favorite Pictures as those from Reiner (RCA/JVC) first for its characterful performance and vivid sound; Muti (EMI) second for its colorful realization and dynamic impact; Ansermet third (Decca) for its incisive interpretation and acceptably good sonics; and Maazel (Telarc or LIM) fourth for its expressive reading and wide-ranging audio.

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

JJP