Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances etc. (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Symphonic Dances, Op. 45; Capriccio on Gypsy Themes ‘Caprice Bohémien’, Op. 12; Scherzo in D minor; The Isle of the Dead, Op. 29. St. Louis Symphony Orchestra; Leonard Slatkin, conductor. VOX-NX-3042CD

 

How gratifying it is to see Naxos continuing its release of conductor Leonard Slatkin’s traversal of Rachmaninoff’s (that’s the currently accepted English spelling) symphonic music, which he recorded for the budget Vox label back in the 1970s with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. We reviewed the first of these recordings to be released back in February, 2023, a release that contained Symphony No. 2 along with the haunting Vocalise that review can be seen hereMost classical music lovers of a certain age are no doubt familiar with Vox, a budget label that produced some real gems over the years. Even though Vox was a budget label, the sound quality on some of their releases could be excellent, especially those recorded by the production team at Elite Recordings, led by engineer Marc Aubort and producer Joanna Nickrenz. There is an article at the PS Audio website discussing the fine-sounding Ravel box set Vox released in the 1970s that provides some insight into Elite’s recording process, which you can find here. The main sonic drawback back in the LP days of yore was the often-substandard quality of Vox’s vinyl pressings. But in the past few years, there have been some significant advances in digital technology, allowing the good folks at Naxos, who now own the rights to the Vox treasure trove, the opportunity to give us truly elite versions of the Elite recordings.

Appearing on the back cover of these new “Vox Audiophile Edition” versions is a highlighted statement affirming that “The Elite recordings for Vox legendary producers Marc Aubort and Joanna Nickrenz are considered by audiophiles to be among the finest sounding orchestral recordings.” For these reissues, Naxos engineers have taken those tapes from the vaults and carefully prepared these CDs for release, the end product of their labors being what they describe as “new192 kHz / 24-bit high definition transfers of the original Elite Recordings analogue master tapes.” Of course, all that work would not mean much if the performances captured by Aubort and Nickrenz were no great shakes to begin with; however, these Rachmaninoff recordings by Maestro Slatkin and the SLSO were excellent when they were released, and they are excellent now. These new remasterings onto CD allow today’s listeners to fully enjoy the confident, expressive playing of the SLSO under Slatkin’s leadership captured in transparent, dynamic sound that captures the sense of an orchestra playing in a hall. 

 

The major works on the disc are the opening Symphonic Dances and the closing The Isle of the Dead. Slatkin leads the SLSO in a tight, controlled, yet lyrical reading of the former, made even more enjoyable by the transparent quality of the recording, which offers a convincing illusion of hearing an orchestra in a hall. The sound might lack that last bit of power and excitement that Telarc afforded David Zinman and his Baltimore players, but it is still very, very good. I really don’t have much to say about The Isle of the Dead, however; to be honest, although many folks find it to be one of Rachmaninoff’s most moving works, it is a piece that makes no real impression on me and I seldom give it a listen Slatkin’s version sounds just fine, to be sure, but that’s about all I can say. 

However, I will close with great enthusiasm by pointing out that the other two pieces on the program, the Capriccio on Gypsy Themes and especially the brief (4:49) Scherzo in D minor are delightfully tuneful and refreshing romps that remind you how much a master melodist Rachmaninoff could be. The Scherzo is a piece that almost demands that the listener break into a dance step before those brief five minutes pass by. By including these two extra compositions, Naxos has given a CD containing more than 77 minutes of well-recorded, well-performed music both familiar and unfamiliar. Like the other Slatkin/SLSO “Audiophile Edition” VOX releases, this one is well worth seeking out.

Rachmaninoff: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini; Respighi: Toccata for Piano and Orchestra; Casella: Partita for Piano and Orchestra (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Joshua Pierce, piano; Anton Nanüt, conductor; RTV Slovenia Symphony Orchestra. MSR 1839                  

This disc’s program notes by Eric Salzman state that all the works on it are “modernist pieces with strong connections to tradition,” and “can be regarded as neo-classical.” While he qualifies the latter label for each in turn, these claims seem variably strained to me. Despite the fact that two of the pieces are by Italian contemporaries, it would be truer to acknowledge the heterogeneity of the music here and gladly stick to that. (As an aside, I am thoroughly exasperated by the looseness with which the term “modernism” is thrown around these days.) What really strikes me about this offering is not only how much each work should be considered on its own terms, but also how easily the familiarity and accessibility of the Rachmaninoff Paganini Rhapsody can impede fair hearings of its disc-mates here; what these other works need are fair hearings, regardless of the conclusions the listener may reach about them. 

I tried with the Respighi, I really did. But little do I see myself returning to the Toccata for Piano and Orchestra very often for the purpose of listening pleasure. That said, I cannot fault Pierce and company; they do as fine a job as one could ask. I just find the composition itself to be clunky and aimless. True, the title “Toccata” promises nothing in terms of strict form or consistency. But this 21-minute clump of undigested manners and influences is not the composer’s top-drawer product. That is not to say there aren’t beautiful moments and passages of exciting virtuosity – there definitely are both. But these elements do not make a strong impression in total. Still, I encourage listeners to give this piece a try and see for yourselves. Your experience may differ, and the music at least deserves a chance. I remain grateful to these performers and their recording for mine. 

 

I admit that my exposure to Alfredo Casella’s music has been patchy; this was my first encounter with his Partita for Piano and Orchestra. I did not think much of the piece at first, but I stuck with it for many hearings. I’m glad I did – this is music that needed time and exposure to grow on me. I could sense the composer’s distinctive voice from the start, but my affection was a bit slower to follow. What I hear now when I listen to it is refulgent, tuneful music that beams amiably. I also took the time to listen to a competing recording from Naxos (8.573005), and find the present rendering by Joshua Pierce and company to be more convincing. This Partita being the most squarely “neoclassical” work on the disc, I appreciated the latter’s crisp, brisk approach (excepting the finale, where the Naxos performance’s tempo is actually a bit quicker). 

Speaking of brisk, try out this Paganini Rhapsody! At 21:43 it is definitely one of the fastest performances I have ever heard (perhaps the fastest). Not even Yuja Wang (whose own recently recorded performance of this work I reviewed here some months ago) blazes through at such a pace. Technically, Pierce acquits himself very well. I also like his tone and articulation. While there are more soulful, more glowing performanes out there, his expressiveness is acceptable. But, not all that dissimilar to my feelings about Wang’s performance, there are just too many fine interpretations available for me to enthusiastically push this one. Even if it did not feel too breathless, which it does, this Paganini Rhapsody would be middling. I’m afraid my recommendation here is for collectors only. 

 

If the Rachmaninoff is the hook for customers to also sample the less-familiar repertoire, and the lesser-familiar repertoire lures the explorer to buy yet another recording of the Rachmaninoff, this disc was shrewdly calculated. There is likely something here for most classical listeners, and for me there is plenty: the wholly satisfying Casella Partita, the well performed but disappointing Respighi Toccata (which I’m nonetheless glad to have in my collection), and a fast Paganini Rhapsody. On balance, the price of the disc is worth what it offers. Maybe barely worth it, but worth it all the same.

Mikyung Sung: The Colburn Sessions

by Bill Heck

Bottesini: Tarantella, Capriccio di Bravura, Elegy No. 1 in D Major; Massenet: Meditation from Thaïs; Hindemith: Sonata for Double Bass and Piano; Montag: Sonata in E Minor for Double Bass and Piano; Mendelssohn: Cello Sonata No. 2 in D Major; Rachmaninoff: Sonata in G minor for Cello and Piano, Op. 19 (third movement); Franck: Sonata in A major for Violin and Piano. Jaemin Shin, Mikyung Sung. Modus Vivendi Media MVM2301

When I first happened upon this album, I was dumbfounded. So far as I can tell, it should be physically impossible to play a double bass in the manner that Ms. Sung does. Flying through endless quick series of notes with on the nose intonation along the extended neck with thick strings of this instrument: how in the world does she do that?

But, of course, there is more to this two-CD set than mere technical brilliance, so let’s explore. 

Giovanni Bottesini

The first disc opens with three works by Giovanni Bottesini (1821 – 1899), considered in his time as the “Paganini of the Double Bass”, and who moved from virtuoso command of that instrument to conducting and composing. The first piece, Tarantella, certainly is a showpiece for the double bass, with shifting tempi and virtuoso runs: If you do think of Paganini on the bass instead of the violin, you’ll have the general idea. The next, Capricio di bravura, begins as a soulful singing piece that moves across the entire range of the instrument. It breaks into a lively dance, and back and forth we go, ending it all with a flourish; the overall feel is reminiscent of a dance scene from an opera. Finally, we have the Elegy, several minutes of quite lovely playing. Showpieces all, the music is interesting and enjoyable, and in any case bravura playing is enough to carry the day.

Massenet’s Meditation from Thais is one of those works that you’ve heard somewhere, even if you didn’t know what it was. Originally composed for violin and orchestra, in the wrong hands it can degenerate into a rather saccharine tearjerker, but the transposition of the work to double bass with piano accompaniment gives it a whole new sound, perhaps more straightforward than the original. In any case, Sung’s playing is moving without turning into treacle.

Next up are two more recent works also originally composed for the double bass, namely Paul Hindemith’s Sonata for Double Bass and Piano, followed by Vilmas Montag’s work of the same name.

The Hindemith Sonata is in much the same vein as some of his better know and more popular works, such as the Mathis der Maler or the Metamorphosis (on Themes by Weber). Although there are moments of dissonance, the composition still is tonal, with a mood best described as mysterious, and developed mostly in minor keys. Personally, I found it quite engaging and I’m glad to have made its acquaintance.

I’m less certain of the Montag composition but can say with confidence that Sung makes the best possible case for it. Her playing, especially in the lower register of the instrument, is lovely and powerful at the same time.

This is a good time to mention that the contributions from pianist Jaemin Shin are beyond mere accompaniment: there’s no doubt that the album is about Sung, but she and Shin are very much partners in music making.

The second disc contains works originally composed for other instruments and redone for the double bass. There are three: Mendelssohn‘s Cello Sonata No. 2, Rachmaninoff’s Sonata in G minor for Cello and Piano (third movement), and Franck’s Sonata in A for Violin and Piano. You may be familiar with these works in their original versions, so I won’t go into a lot of description here. What I will say is that all of them sound absolutely natural when played on the double bass; indeed, if you didn’t know that they were originally composed for different instruments, you could easily presume that they were composed for the bass. (That’s not too surprising in the first two works, as the move from cello to bass at least seems like a plausible idea. But it really is amazing that the third piece loses nothing in the translation.) In all three, what could have sounded just gimmicky are instead propelled by Sung’s musical sensitivity as well as her virtuosity and come across simply as wonderful music. Yes, the bass gives the pieces more sonic weight, but it never weighs them down.

The sound on both discs is clean and natural, although that on the second is just a touch more distant that on the first. (The recording venues were different.) I listened to the album on my streaming service; sadly, the CD booklet was not available there. (I wish I knew why booklets are or are not available on streaming service that support them; they are for some newer works but not for all.) The CD is generally available, but you also can purchase a digital download of the entire thing at Mikyung Sung’s website.

Rachmaninov: Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 4, Paganini Rhapsody (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Rachmaninov: Piano Concerto No. 1 in F sharp minor, Op 1 (1919 version); Piano Concerto No. 4 in G minor, Op. 40 (1941 version); Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini, Op. 43. Abbey Simon, piano; St. Louis Symphony Orchestra; Leonard Slatkin, conductor. VOX-NX-3030CD

 Collectors have waited nine long months for this baby. Back in March of 2023 we reviewed the Naxos release of Abbey Simon’s traversal of the Rachmaninoff (today’s preferred spelling) Piano Concertos Nos. 2 & 3 (you can read that review here) as part of their ongoing project of giving new life to classic recorded performances from the Vox catalog. Many experienced music lovers of a certain age are probably familiar with Vox, a budget label that produced some real gems back in the day. Although Vox was a budget label, the sound quality on some of their releases was superb, especially those recorded by Elite Recordings (engineer Marc Aubort and producer Joanna Nickrenz. Vox’s vinyl pressings were often substandard, unfortunately, which meant that what had been captured on the master tapes was not fully realized when played back on even the finest of listening equipment in music lovers’ homes. 

 

But thanks to contemporary digital technology, the engineers at Naxos have been able to go back to the original analog master tapes and create high-definition digital masters that preserve as faithfully as possible the sound that was originally captured by Elite Recordings in 1976 and 1977 when these musicians were originally assembled at Powell Hall in St. Louis. The efforts of those engineers have helped ensure that for music lovers, the wait was worth it, as both the music and the sound on this new release are first-rate. These “outer” concertos of Rachmaninoff are great fun, marked by energy and enthusiasm, which Simon, Slatkin, and the SLSO deliver in abundance without ever getting carried away into histrionics. As a bonus, we get a fine performance of the Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini. Two less familiar and one more familiar works for piano and orchestra by one of the most towering masters of the keyboard are presented here by a pianist, conductor, and orchestra who all merit greater reputations than they currently possess. Those who listen to these performances that Elite Recordings so expertly recorded and Naxos so faithfully transferred to contemporary high-definition digital format for music lovers to enjoy via streaming and CD will likely raise their estimation of all involved.

Recent Releases No. 66 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring 

Amazônia. Villa-Lobos: Suite Floresta de Amazonas; Glass: Metamorphosis I (from Aguas da Amazonia). Camila Provenzale, soprano; Philharmonia Zürich; Simone Menezes, conductor. Alpha Classics ALPHA 990

This release pairs two works infused with the energy and exotic sounds and colors of the Amazonian jungle, brought to you courtesy of the creative imaginations of two composers of different times and hemispheres, the Brazilian Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) and the American Philip Glass (b. 1937). Villa-Lobos wrote this music in 1958, late in his career, originally conceiving it as “a symphonic poem, a long, abstract narration that nevertheless stimulates visual echoes,” according to the CD booklet essay, which goes on the explain that the music was intended to accompany a film titled Green Mansions. Not surprisingly, the film’s producers brought in a team of Hollywood arrangers who effectively destroyed Villa-Lobos’s music. As a result, “Villa-Lobos took back his music, and made an independent concert work out of it, increasing the role of the chorus and solo voice in order to create an immense oratorio to texts by the poet Dora Vasconcelos.” What we have on this recording is not the “immense oratorio,” however; rather, conductor Simone Menezes has gone through the original score and constructed an orchestral suite in 11 movements for soprano and orchestra. It lasts about 45 minutes and is exuberant and powerful, with rich harmonies and energetic rhythms. Soprano Camilo Provenzale has a richly powerful voice with a tonal color that seems just right for this music.

In her CD booklet essay, Menezes explains that Metamorphosis I “is part of his Aguas da Amazonia, originally composed for the Brazilian group Uakti… It was orchestrated in 2017 by Charles Coleman.  Metamorphosis takes a minimalist, poetic look at the waters traversing the Amazonian forest, a journey by boat along the Amazon, marked by diverse rhythmical pulses… The rhythms become more dominant and more varied, and the tension gradually mounts up until the final sigh of relief when then destination is reached.” This is a shorter work than the Villa-Lobos, running 12:55 here and 12:35 on the Uakti recording. As those familiar with Glass  might expect, the music has an underlying pulse, a repetitive phrasing that underlies the music, much in the way that the river underlies that boat that rides upon it. Those that enjoy Glass will enjoy it, those that hate Glass will hate it. Personally, I enjoy the Uakti version much more – it simply has a more colorful sonic palette. That is not to say I am one of the Glass-haters – although neither am I a die-hard fan (except of his piano music). And in his defense, I must point out that he did not write piece this for orchestra; instead, it was orchestrated by someone else. Glass’s original version as performed by Uakti sounds much different – much more vibrant and involving.

The engineering is excellent. The booklet includes some notes on the music, biographical information about the musicians,  texts for the Villa-Lobos lyrics, and some striking B&W photographs of the Amazon. Overall, this is another of those recordings of music a bit off the beaten path but certainly well worth an audition by those looking to expand their musical field of vision.

 

Rachmaninov: Symphony No. 1 in D minor, Op. 13; Prince Rostislav; Symphonic Poem after Aleksey Tolstoy. St. Louis Symphony Orchestra; Leonard Slatkin, conductor. Vox Audiophile Edition VOX-NX-3029CD

 

Rachmaninov: Symphony No. 3 in A minor, Op. 44; Symphony in D minor “Youth”; The Rock, Op. 7. St. Louis Symphony Orchestra; Leonard Slatkin, conductor. Vox Audiophile Edition VOX-NX-3028CD

 

How gratifying it is to see Naxos completing its release of conductor Leonard Slatkin’s traversal of Rachmaninoff’s (that’s the currently accepted English spelling) three symphonies, which he recorded for the budget Vox label back in the mid-1970s with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. We reviewed the first of these recordings to be released back in February, 2023, a release that contained Symphony No. 2 along with the haunting Vocalise (you can read that review here). Most classical music lovers of a certain age are no doubt familiar with Vox, a budget label that produced some real gems over the years. Even though Vox was a budget label, the sound quality on some of their releases could be excellent, especially those recorded by the production team at Elite Recordings, led by engineer Marc Aubort and producer Joanna Nickrenz. There is an article at the PS Audio website discussing the fine-sounding Ravel box set Vox released in the 1970s that provides some insight into Elite’s recording process, which you can find here. The main sonic drawback back in the LP days of yore was the often substandard quality of Vox’s vinyl pressings). But in the past few years, there have been some significant advances in digital technology, allowing the good folks at Naxos (who now own the rights to the Vox treasure trove) the opportunity to give us truly elite versions of the Elite recordings.

 

Appearing on the back cover of these new “Vox Audiophile Edition” versions is a highlighted statement affirming that “The Elite recordings for Vox legendary producers Marc Aubort and Joanna Nickrenz are considered by audiophiles to be among the finest sounding orchestral recordings.” For these reissues, Naxos engineers have taken those tapes from the vaults and carefully prepared these CDs for release, the end product of their labors being what they describe as “new192 kHz / 24-bit high definition transfers of the original Elite Recordings analogue master tapes.” Of course, all that work would not mean much if the performances captured by Aubort and Nickrenz were no great shakes to begin with; however, these Rachmaninoff recordings by Maestro Slatkin and the SLSO were excellent when they were released and they are excellent now. Earlier this year, we reviewed their recording of the Rachmaninoff Symphony No. 2(you can read that review here). These new recordings exhibit the same virtues: confident, expressive playing from the SLSO under Slatkin’s leadership captured in transparent, dynamic sound that captures the sense of an orchestra playing in a hall. There are many excellent versions of these symphonies on the market; in fact, Slatkin himself later recorded an excellent set with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. Still, these are excellent performances, excellently recorded, making them eminently recommendable for fans of these gorgeously tuneful symphonies.

Rachmaninoff: The Piano Concertos and Paganini Rhapsody (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Yuja Wang, piano; Los Angeles Philharmonic; Gustavo Dudamel, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 486 4759 (2 CDs) 

It is a strange coincidence that as I have been listening to these Rachmaninoff discs, I just finished reading Samuel Lipman’s Music After Modernism (Basic Books, 1979). This book is a series of essays outlining the author’s thoughts about the Western classical tradition during what he saw as its twilight years. One of his arguments is that the lack of vital new repertoire adopted by performers in any enduring way sees them adding new interpretations of well-established favorites to an ever-growing backlog. One wonders what Lipman would have thought of the explosion of previously unrecorded repertoire and its champions from the 1980s up to the present, with the advent of the compact disc and then streaming. (Since he passed away in 1994, his experience of these developments would have been limited or non-existent.) But given the tone of his book, I have a feeling that Lipman would quickly point to the uninterrupted proliferation of standard repertoire recordings, and how relatively few of them measure up to the old favorites we perennially celebrate. 

 

This is what I kept thinking about as I took in these performances by Yuja Wang, Gustavo Dudamel, and a decidedly diminutive Los Angeles Philharmonic. Beyond the furtherance of careers involved, or perhaps special sympathies with the performers, on what basis can I recommend this product? Regretfully, the answer is “little.” Truthfully, most of that “little” goes to Wang’s piano technique. I agree with the buzz: she does fast and brilliant very well. Maybe too well. Because when I look for other reasons to praise her playing here, I struggle to find many. Even in the slower passages, where she ostensibly gets into the emotion and lyricism of the music, I often find that it feels like serving time until the next opportunity for technical brilliance. When one listens carefully to these passages, they harbor a certain metronomical core. It’s as if someone coached her on how to be expressive, and she’s imitating their example more than really exemplifying it. This is less of a problem in the more ostentatious works and moments; her First and ThirdConcerti are better than the rest. 

Her other performances here aren’t even really bad. It’s just that in such a saturated field, nothing quite measures up. When one can choose rapt, heartrending interpretations by Pennario, Richter, Horowitz, Ashkenazy, Graffman (her teacher!), and others (not to mention the composer’s own), why should one shell out full price for hers? Maybe she equals or outdoes most of them in terms of sheer technique, but if the tears, tenderness, colors, and beauty of this repertoire are important, the buyer has many better options.

 

Much as I am cool on Wang’s pianism beyond technique, she gets little help here from Dudamel and the LA Phil. I don’t know whether or not conductor and soloist made a prior agreement that the orchestra would go to great lengths not to upstage or obscure the piano, but its role in these performances is unacceptably meek. The problem is less severe in many of the tutti sections than it is in stretches when the orchestra accompanies the piano. Taking the Second Concerto as an example, the opening sounds particularly strange, with everyone but Wang trying hard to recede into the background. A thankfully present clarinet in the opening of the second movement bucks the trend before the orchestral muting resumes in the finale. 

The same issues trouble the Fourth Concerto’s quicker movements. But even where the tutti sections without piano are loud and clear, their special moments (notably in the climax of the Second Concerto’sFinale and the famous 18th variation of the Paganini Rhapsody) feel oddly routine. This is why I actually find Wang’s earlier recording of the Second Concerto with Claudio Abbado and the Mahler Chamber Orchestra (DG 477 9308) to be the better choice. It’s more of the same Sonic-the-Hedgehog pianism, but at least we have a conductor who lets the orchestra play with suitable fullness. 

 Lest the reader think I am being too hard on Wang, I want to close with a constructive suggestion. I’ve seen her perform high-octane repertoire that requires edgy brilliance rather than lush Romantic sentiment, and I think she’s generally amazing with this music. Her Ligeti, Adams, and Kapustin, for example, are stunning. Moreover, these composers all prove that great (yes, great) piano compositions were still being composed in the closing decades of the twentieth century and beyond. If she were to concentrate even more on recording and championing them, so much the better. And, per Lipman’s prescription, the classical tradition itself would only gain health and longevity. 

Voice of Rachmaninoff (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Rachmaninoff: Morceaux de Fantasie, Op. 3 – No. 1 Elégie; 12 Romances, Op 21 No. 7 – Zdes Khorosho “How fair this spot”; 6 Songs, Op. 4 No. 4 – Ne poy krasavitsa prim ne “Oh never sing to me again”; Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op. 43 – Var. XVIII-Andante Cantabile; Sonata for Cello and Piano in G Minor, Op.19; Vocalise, Op 34 No. 14; “Preghiera” (Arranged by Fritz Kreisler and Shelbie Rassler from Piano Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, Op. 18, second movement). John-Henry Crawford, cello; Victor Santiago Asuncion, piano. Orchid Classics ORC100241

 

The last time we encountered the duo of cellist John-Henry Crawford and pianist Victor Santiago Asuncion, they were bringing us the music of Central America on a delightful album that we reviewed here. This time around they bring us the music of Rachmaninoff, who is perhaps mostly famed as a composer for the keyboard, especially for his piano concertos, but also for his orchestral works (Ryan Ross will soon be reviewing a new recording of some of his symphonies). The music of Rachmaninoff is loved for its beautiful melodies, and the cello is admired for its ability to convey melody with great expressiveness. As John-Henry Crawford explains in the CD booklet, “Rachmaninoff’s most revered as a pianist and  for his magnificent compositions for the instrument, but he also had a remarkable ability to sing through the soaring melodies one finds across his entire musical output… The mainstay of the program is the Sonata for Cello and Piano in G Minor, which is the only sonata Rachmaninoff wrote for any solo instrument other than piano. Rachmaninoff had a great affection for the cello, not surprisingly given its likeness to the human voice. The Sonata boasts one song after another in a vast work with a devilishly difficult piano part, on par with that of his piano concerti.”

The album opens, however, not with the Sonata, but with an arrangement for cello and piano of a piano suite that the composer completed in 1892 and then gave the first published copy to Tchaikovsky, who was apparently quite impressed. It is soulful, dramatic, tune that pulls at the heartstrings, with both piano and cello playing with fervent energy. Then come two songs, the brief (2:17) “How fair this spot” followed by “Oh never sing to me again.” Being songs, of course, both are highly melodic, with the melody given more to Crawford’s cello, Asuncion’s piano playing more of an accompanist’s role. However, his piano sings with a more prominent voice for the remainder of the program – this is music of Rachmaninoff, after all!

Next up is the tender Andante Cantabile variation from the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, perhaps one of Rachmaninoff’s most memorable musical moments. Even those who do not follow classical music have no doubt heard this music, perhaps from watching the telecast of an Olympic figure skating competition. Crawford and Ascuncion play it beautifully, but without adding extra schmaltz of their own.  We then come to the main even, the sonata that the composer wrote in 1901 after successfully recovering from the creative depression he had suffered in the wake of the unsuccessful debut of his Piano Concerto No. 1. That same year, he also completed his most popular work, the Piano Concerto No. 2. Perhaps it should come as no surprise, then, that a striking characteristic of the sonata is the prominence given to the piano. 

The opening is slow but dramatic, the piano playing expressively, soon joined by the cello with a truly singing quality. The second movement sounds more agitated, often emphasized by a galloping sound from the piano. The cello sounds calmer, but overall there is still a sense of motion. A lyrical interlude led by the cello is followed by a climax about four minutes in. The music then reverts to the agitated feeling of the opening, with the piano taking much of the lead and the cello singing along. As you might expect, the following third movement opens more softly and reflectively, the piano in the lead, the cello echoing same melody. Toward the end of this short movement, there is an intense passage with both instruments singing away, but then the intensity diminishes as the movement ends quietly, the last note on the cello lingering in the air. The fourth and final movement parallels the opening movement in its scope and intensity. Once again, the piano plays a prominent role while the cello plays lyrically and lovingly. The overall impression is that of a piano concerto for reduced forces: or perhaps it makes much better sense to simply to acknowledge it as a truly grand sonata for cello and piano. In any event, it is a beautifully dramatic composition that is played for all it is worth by these two remarkable musicians. 

Then comes the familiar Vocalise. As you might expect, Crawford’s cello sings the melody quite hauntingly; however, what you might not expect is how significant a contribution Asuncion’s piano makes in this arrangement. This in not just another facile run-through of a piece that can seem overly familiar. The program ends with a benediction, “Preghiera” (“Prayer”), an arrangement of yet another tenderly lyrical selection from one of Rachmaninoff’s works, this time from the second movement of his beloved Piano Concerto No. 2. Both Asuncion and Crawford play it for all it is worth, wringing every last bit of beauty and emotion out of this music. It is a performance that you just don’t want to end, but you know what they say of all good things… The CD booklet contains informative notes about both the music and the musicians. The  engineering is by the veteran Adam Abeshouse, a name that seems to pop up fairly often on fine-sounding recordings, of which this is a prime example. This is an excellent release in all respects.