Virtuoso Music for Cello (CD review)

Music of Boccherini, Franchomme, Rossini & Servais. Constantin Macherel, cello; Sebastian Comberti, London Mozart Players. Claves 50-1903.

Here are a few things I didn't know: The cello was "derived from the viole da braccio family rather than that of the viols." Moreover, the young Swiss cellist Constantin Macherel featured on this disc is a laureate of numerous competitions and has performed recitals all over the world. He plays an old English cello by Joseph Hill, ca. 1765. Here, he is accompanied by the London Mozart Players, which, again news to me, is the UK's longest established chamber orchestra. They play under the direction of cellist Sebastian Comberti, who has appeared many times as a soloist with the London Mozart Players, the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, and the Hanover Band.

The disc's program consists of five selections from the Baroque, Classical, and early Romantic periods. The opening number is the Variations sur deux themes (russe and ecossais) (1835) by the French cellist and composer Auguste-Joseph Franchomme (1808-1884). It's a charming piece played with elegance and refinement by Macherel. One certainly notices the melodies of Russia and Scotland throughout, but there are also hints of America's Stephen Foster as well. Whatever, it's nostalgic and reflective and poetically presented.

Constantin Macherel

Next comes Souvenir de Spa, Fantaisie (1844) by Franchomme's good friend Adrien Francois Servais (1807-1866), who was one of the most influential cellists of the nineteenth century. As in the Franchomme piece, we get music of extended refinement, this time the composer's impressions of Spa, the Belgian resort town famous for its mineral springs. It can be a bit more energetic than the Franchomme and not quite as sentimental, but it is equally as enchanting, with Macherel showing off his virtuosity.

After that is the longest and earliest piece on the agenda, the three-movement Cello Concerto No. 6 in D Major (1770) by the Italian composer and cellist Ridolfo Luigi Boccherini (1743-1805). It's a typically delightful piece from Boccherini, and the string accompaniment from the London Mozart Players well complements Macherel's graceful playing.

In the penultimate spot we find Une Larme, Theme et variations (1858) by Italian composer Gioacchino Rossini (1792-1868). These variations on "A Tear" can range rather pointedly from lively to playful to pensive. They are fun, and Macherel makes the most of the change-ups.

The album concludes with Chant d'adieux, Fantaise (1836), by the same man who opened the program, Auguste-Joseph Franchomme. He based the music on a funereal melody, so don't expect a lighthearted close to the agenda. But do expect the same degree of stylishly dignified attention by everyone involved.

Producer Rachel Smith and engineer Ben Connellan recorded the music at St. John the Evangelist, Upper Norwood, London in June 2018. The sound, while a tad close-up in the cello work, is otherwise excellent. The clarity is admirable, the detail, the definition. When the stage opens to the full chamber orchestra, it is well spread out, with lifelike distances between the instruments and a reasonably wide stereo spread. It's among the nicest, cleanest, most realistic things I've heard this year.

JJP

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

Rossini: Il Turco in Italia (CD review)

Cecilia Bartoli, Michele Pertusi, Alessandro Corbelli, Laura Polverelli; Riccardo Chailly, Orchestra and choir of the Teatro alla Scala di Milano. Decca 289 458 924-2 (2-disc set).

Il Turco in Italia (1814) is one of Italian composer Gioachino Rossini's (1792-1868) early comic operas, the kind that non-opera connoisseurs like myself find difficult to differentiate from others of its kind. Even though there are no big, really memorable tunes to program on my CD player for later listening, it all goes down agreeably in the moment.

Yes, this mid-Nineties production is pleasantly entertaining at the time, beautifully sung by the soloists and choir, well accompanied by Maestro Chailly and his La Scala Orchestra, and reasonably well recorded. It's just that I am not sure I would ever return to it again willingly for a complete run-through. At least I haven't in the twenty-odd years since I first got the set. 

Riccardo Chailly

The opera's plot involves a unique idea for its time, and one that has been used since. A poet in search of material for a comedy he is writing decides to use the real life around him as his reference. Observing a group of gypsies, he notes an unhappy marriage, a wandering wife, a hapless husband, and a Turkish prince. Needless to say, when the real-life situations don't develop dramatically enough for his liking, the poet is not above "arranging" the people's lives, finally arriving at a suitably happy ending for everyone involved. 

Decca's 1996 sound is typical of their modern opera recordings. It is big and clear, with voices a trifle bright for extra clarity, a point I noted most especially in the chorus and ensemble numbers. Also, while there is certainly a great deal of stage width, there isn't much sense of motion around the stage; indeed, there is little sense of stage presence, movement, or depth at all; not like the old Culshaw days. It is more or less a fixed reading. And, as usual, the orchestra appears on the same plane as the singers rather than in a more realistic, forward position as we might hear live.

In all, opera lovers will probably want the set. Others may want to audition it first.

JJP

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

Rossini: Six Sonatas for Strings (CD review)

Antonio Janigro, I Solisti di Zagreb. Vanguard Classics SVC-144.

Here is one of my favorite old groups, I Solisti di Zagreb, led by their founder, conductor and cellist Antonio Janigro (1918-1989) performing the ever-delightful Sonatas for Strings by Italian composer Gioacchino Rossini (1792-1868). I could hardly recommend a set of performances more highly.

Rossini claimed much later in life that he wrote the six little sonatas for string orchestra when he was twelve years old and knew next to nothing about musical composition. Some people take him at his word; others think the old man was embroidering his youth or just plain kidding around. In any case, in the mid-twentieth century the original scores, dating from 1804, showed up in the Library of Congress, so I guess the composer wasn't kidding. Rossini rearranged the works for string quartet some time after their composition, but the chamber orchestra versions we get here are the ones we often hear these days.

Antonio Janigro

The sonatas are charming in every way, displaying the vigor and zest of youth with lovely, tranquil interludes. Of the various recordings of the chamber-ensemble scores available, only Marriner with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields on Decca and I Solisti Veneti on Erato equal Janigro and his group for bringing out the most felicitous moods of the music.

Vanguard's sound derives from 1956 and 1957 recording sessions, and it is really quite excellent, very clear, very nicely delineated, thanks to the Super Bit Map remastering the company did for the 2001 rerelease. What's more, there is very little background noise, just clean, transparent sound throughout.

But here's the kicker: The first four sonatas are in monaural. I swear, I didn't even realize it until I was about twenty minutes into the disc and began wondering why the sound field seemed a tad too narrow for stereo. You see, at first I was so bowled over by the clarity of the sonics, I didn't even notice the lack of stereo spread. Then, I thought, this is so clear and so narrow, I wonder if it isn't the quartet edition after all. Finally, I read a small notation on the back of the jewel box that notified me of the truth. The mono should not deter anyone. The fact is, the monaural tracks are just as transparent than the stereo ones and one hardly notices their narrow spread. The whole package really is a lovely listening experience.

JJP  

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

Rossini: Overtures (HQCD review)

Fritz Reiner, Chicago Symphony Orchestra. HDTT HQCD420.

This one takes me back well over fifty years. Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony recorded these Rossini overtures for RCA in 1958, and I remember buying it in high school, probably a couple of years after its release. It was my first record of Rossini overtures, and I still value it among the best available.

The trouble was, when the CD era began in the early Eighties, I figured RCA would reissue the set in even better sound than on the LP, but it didn't happen. Their CD sonics didn't live up to the old LP's. I waited, and when RCA started re-releasing things in their "Living Stereo" line, I had high hopes for the Rossini. That didn't happen, either; it never showed up. So, I tried several European imports, including the one I finally wound up with, a Sony DSD-remastered disc, with which I still wasn't entirely happy. Now, HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers) have remastered it, and for the first time since the old vinyl days, I'm happy with the sound again.

More about the audio in a minute. Right now, let me say a few words about the performances. The six overtures on Reiner's album are The Barber of Seville, La Gazza Ladra, La Cenerentola, William Tell, La Scala di Seta, and Il Signor Brushino.

The first thing you'll want to know about Reiner's Rossini is that it's big. Really big. Full-scale big. When Neville Marriner released his streamlined performances of the overtures years later, they seemed like a genuine revelation, presented in something closer to Rossini's intentions. Then any number of further recordings followed by various chamber orchestras, my favorites being those from the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra as well as Marriner on modern instruments and Roger Norrington and his band on period instruments, among others. But these releases never diminished my appreciation for Reiner's work. His full orchestral versions come in the lushest possible sound and still sound magnificent. Whether the historical-accuracy crowd like them or not is beside the point. You have to listen to them and decide for yourself.

For me, Reiner represents everything that's good about Rossini. His interpretations of the Rossini overtures are as exciting, as lyrical, and as charming as any you'll find on record. Reiner may have coaxed (or forced) an extremely plush, opulent, luxurious sound from the magnificent Chicago Symphony Orchestra, but it is always at the service of the music. Nothing ever sags or slouches for a moment, the music continually moving forward in perfectly judged tempos, contrasts, pauses, and other nuances. If Reiner's Rossini doesn't have your fingers and toes tapping, nothing will.

Fritz Reiner

The opening Barber of Seville overture is a good example. Once you've heard Reiner's version, you won't be able to imagine it done any other way. It's glorious. The precision of so large an ensemble as the CSO is remarkable, and the ability of Reiner to obtain such detail from the group is nothing short of amazing.

Needless to say, the acoustics of Chicago Symphony Hall and RCA's recording geniuses only reinforced the best in Reiner's performances, and few record companies have equalled the sound they obtained even to this day.

RCA's celebrated team of producer Richard Mohr and engineer Lewis Layton originally recorded the overtures at Chicago Symphony Hall in November 1958, and HDTT remastered the recording from an RCA 4-track tape in 2015. I did my listening in two sessions: First, just to the music; then, in comparison to the Sony DSD-remastered import I had on hand. The Sony, as I already mentioned, was the best version of the recording I could previously find. Now, the HDTT is king of the hill. Of course, I can't tell you which version is more faithful to the master tape; I don't have access to the master tape for making that judgment. I can only tell you which version I liked best, and by comparison to Sony's remaster, the HQCD remaster sounds richer, fuller, quieter, more effortless, and more natural to me. Yes, by any standard it's really good. The Sony remaster is slightly brighter, thinner, edgier, and a bit more hissy at the top end. HDTT's noise reduction has perhaps dimmed the top end the tiniest bit, but it's only in direct comparison that a listener would notice any difference at all.

The HDTT-remastered sonics are velvety smooth and very broad across the sound stage, with a dynamic range that is almost off the charts. Be prepared for some really big crescendos, followed by some very low-output sections that might drive you a little nutso for a while trying to find a good compromise gain setting. Still, the ear and mind adjust fairly quickly, and then the disc will treat you not only to wide dynamics but to very strong impact, very quick transient response, and very good orchestral depth. It makes for a lively, lifelike presentation that surely matches the sound of the orchestra live.

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

JJP

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

Rossini: Complete Overtures (CD review)

Sir Neville Marriner, Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. Philips Trio 473 967-2 (3-disc set).

When these twenty-odd overtures appeared on four separate vinyl discs between 1974 and 1980, they seemed a revelation. Neville Marriner and his comparatively small ensemble had gone back and found Rossini's original, lighter orchestrations for these works and come up with as delightful renditions as anyone had ever heard in modern times. Today, to be able to purchase all of them in a single three-CD set at far less cost than they first sold for is a bargain, indeed. And even though Philips as a company is long gone, one can still readily find the Rossini set on-line.

The program does not follow the order in which Philips first released the overtures on LP but, rather, it starts with the most popular overture, William Tell. This is a little unfortunate, as it is the famous William Tell overture that probably most benefits from the brass and bass drum that we are used to but are missing here. Not to worry, though; like the rest of the performances, the piece moves with grace and surety.

The overtures that truly sparkle, however, are Il barbiere di Siviglia, La Scala di seta, Signor Buschino (with its desk tapping), and especially my favorite, L'Italiana in Algeri. In my own experience and to my ears, only the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra on modern instruments have more recently equalled these efforts for sheer energy and enthusiasm, and not even they can match the Academy for overall grace and refinement.

What's more, Philips did everything they could back then to ensure that they afforded Marriner and his players the very best analogue sound. What this means is that they eschewed some of the usual concert-hall resonance they preferred, clarifying the stereo sonics to such a degree I thought for years these recordings were among the cleanest I had ever heard. They are never dry, however, and the light ambient bloom that permeates the recordings makes the presentations sound quite realistic.

Which brings up a final point. The first of the original discs, containing the overtures recorded in 1974, Philips miked in four-channel Quadraphonics but issued in two-channel, and PentaTone Classics issued a hybrid SACD of them that appears to sound a tad clearer to me in their stereo presentation. If one is looking only for the most-popular Rossini overtures, if one has an SACD player, and if one maybe has deep pockets, the PentaTone disc is surely a strong consideration. But, otherwise, for many folks this Philips Trio offering still seems hard to resist.

JJP

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

Rossini: Overtures (CD review)

William Tell and other overtures. Roy Goodman, The Hanover Band. Newton Classics 8802219.

There isn't exactly a shortage of Rossini overture recordings on the market, but there are surprisingly few of them done on period instruments in historically informed performances. For the past couple of decades the two leading contenders in this specialized field have been Roy Goodman's recording with the Hanover Band, reissued here by Newton Classics, and Roger Norrington's renditions with the London Classical Players on EMI (now Warner Classics). Of the two, Norrington is probably the more refined, more cultured, but I've never been entirely sure that was what every prospective buyer of a period-instruments recording wanted. Goodman's accounts appear just as well played but a bit more rustic and bucolic. It's good to have them back in this mid-priced release.

Goodman provides seven of Rossini's most-famous overtures including La scala di seta ("The Silken Ladder"), L'Italiana in Algeri ("The Italian Girl in Algiers"), Il barbiere di Siviglia ("The Barber of Seville"), La gazza ladra ("The Thieving Magpie"), Semiramide, Le siege de Corinthe ("The Siege of Corinth"), and Guillaume Tell ("William Tell"). It's interesting to note that most of Rossini's overtures have become more popular and receive more performances than the operas from which they come.

Anyway, the program begins with La scala di seta, which pretty much sets the stage for the rest of the selections. Not only do we hear the characteristic sound of a period ensemble, especially from the strings and percussion, but we get tempos that seem neither exaggerated nor tedious. In fact, they always sound just right, with any variations needed to provide contrast. What's more, the orchestra play with admirable virtuosity and zeal, and the audio engineers capturing them in a well-balanced manner. This is a far cry from some shrill, raggedy-Annie period performances with claims to historical accuracy at the expense of listenability.

And so it goes throughout the program. I particularly enjoyed the dynamic impact in L'Italiana in Algeri, the spirited enthusiasm in Il barbiere di Siviglia, and those blazing timpani in La gazza ladra. Goodman's performances are bold yet pleasingly stylish, providing thrills and thought in equal measure.

Which brings us to the William Tell overture, whose celebrated closing galop ("March of the Swiss Soldiers") stirred every kid's imagination in The Lone Ranger. The piece begins with three sections describing the prelude to a storm, the storm itself, and the calm following the storm. Goodman handles these segments in appropriately colorful interpretations, the storm getting a remarkably blustery treatment. And that final heroic galop? While it may not convey all the visceral excitement of some other renditions, it should prove gracefully enduring.

Producer Andrew Keener and engineer Tony Faulkner recorded the music originally for RCA (BMG Classics) at Abbey Road Studios, London, in 1994, and Newton Classics reissued it in 2014. In terms of sonic quality, naturalness and clarity are the orders of the day. Definition sounds commendable and dynamics are wide and strong, while an overall smoothness ensures that the proceedings go as realistically as possible. A modest hall resonance helps, along with a moderately distanced miking arrangement. Additionally, there is a fair amount of orchestral depth and spaciousness to add to the illusion. It makes for an appealing audio experience, maybe not quite as transparent as the sound for Norrington on EMI but not quite as bright or aggressive, either.

JJP

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

Rossini: Complete Overtures, Volume 4 (CD review)

Il barbiere di Siviglia, Il Turco in Italia, et al. Christian Benda, Prague Sinfonia Orchestra. Naxos 8.572735.

Maestro Christian Benda and the Prague Sinfonia Orchestra continue their march through the complete overtures of Italian composer Gioacchino Antonio Rossini (1792–1868) with this fourth and final installment of selections. As before, Benda gives us a couple of well-known pieces and fills out the rest of the program with lesser-known items. And, as always, he does them up splendidly.

Here's the thing, though: There is still Sir Neville Marriner's complete, three-disc set to consider on Philips; yes, a long-gone label but one still available new and used for a reasonable (sometimes absurdly low) price. And if it's only a single disc of the most-popular overtures one is interested in, there are excellent bargains from the likes of, again, Marriner (Philips, PentaTone, or EMI), the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra (DG), Fritz Reiner (RCA), Piero Gamba (Decca or JVC), Peter Maag (HDTT), Riccardo Muti (EMI), Claudio Abbado (DG), Riccardo Chailly (Decca), Carlo Maria Giulini (EMI), Sir Roger Norrington (EMI), and others. Nevertheless, Benda's performances stand up to the best, and the Naxos sound and price are right.

In The Barber of Seville we get a typically robust, responsive reading from Maestro Benda. As it is a lively comic opera, the overture follows suit, with Benda providing a good dose of smart theatrics, yet without in any way exaggerating the music. While I still wouldn't say I liked his interpretation any better than those I mentioned above, when you consider that it comes with a full complement of more-obscure overtures, it might find a home with dedicated Rossini fans.

Likewise, The Turk in Italy is a comic affair, and Benda treats it so. If anything, he plays up the contrasts even more in this one than he did in The Barber, making it another delight, frolicsome and energetic.

And so it goes: eight selections, two of them familiar and six of them less so. For example, the Sinfonia in E flat Major dates from Rossini's student days, but he reused it several times over in other overtures. It's actually quite charming in its original version, and Benda appears to make the most of it.

The other items include Riccardo e Zoraide, Torvaldo e Dorliska, Armida, Le Comte Ory, and Bianca e Falliero. Of them, Armida pleased me the most with its steady march rhythms, which Benda emphasizes slowly and dramatically before the action starts later in the piece.

The Prague Sinfonia Orchestra, a smallish group in their performances here, judging by the booklet picture of them, sound both rich and crisp in their presentation. They seem an ideal ensemble for the likes of Rossini and his music.

Producer Katerina Chobotava and engineer Michael Rast recorded the music at Produckeni dum Vzlet and Kulturni Dum Barikadniku, Prague in 2011 and 2012. The sound is very clean, with little overhang or veiling, yet there is a small degree of hall resonance, too. The miking is fairly close, revealing a modest degree of inner detail and reproducing a healthy dynamic range and impact. Bass and treble extension are pretty good as well, making this another deserving sonic entry in Benda's Rossini series.

So, is Benda's Rossini complete set worth the price of four discs? I'd say yes, at least for the listener wanting more than the standard fare. Marriner's set fits on three discs but isn't quite as thorough as Benda's, which includes darn near every overture and introduction Rossini wrote. What's more, even though some other conductors may be more colorful, more dynamic, or more refined in the material, Benda provides thoughtful, unobjectionable performances. Then add in the sturdy, modern sound, and, yeah, I'd say it's a worthy set.

JJP

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

Sharon Kam: Opera! (CD review)

Sharon Kam, clarinet; Ruben Gazarian, Wurttembergisches Kammerorchester Heilbronn. Berlin Classics 0300547BC.

The last time I reviewed a recording from clarinetist Sharon Kam, it was of the Mozart Clarinet Concerto on Berlin Classics, and I loved every minute of it. I loved it so much, in fact, that I listed it among my favorite albums of 2011. This time she is working with the Württemberg Chamber Orchestra Heilbronn under conductor Ruben Gazarian, and the subject matter is quite different--opera transcriptions for clarinet and orchestra. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it almost as much as the Mozart, and the Berlin Classics sound is as good as ever. It is an engaging disc all the way around.

Ms. Kam’s idea for the program was with the help of arranger Andreas N. Tarkmann to “trawl the rich stocks of Italian vocal music for suitable works and compile them into an interesting, diversified programme and then to write arrangements for clarinet and orchestra.” Ms. Kam explains to us that her husband is an opera conductor who one day told her, “If you love opera so much, why not go operatic yourself!” Which is what she has done on this album of music by Verdi, Puccini, Ponchielli, Wolf-Ferrari, and a strong helping of Rossini.

First up is a good example of the rest of the program, Rossini's "Del periglio al fero aspetto" from Maometti II, in which Ms. Kam's clarinet sings as sweetly as any vocalist could. The interesting thing throughout the album is that Ms. Kam never tries merely to offer up a collection of greatest hits. Indeed, unless you are a devoted opera fan, you may not recognize a lot of these tunes. Instead, Ms. Kam has found operatic music that particularly complements the soaring lyricism of her instrument. The combination is felicitous, to say the least.

Next, we find a collection of things from Giuseppe Verdi, normally piano-accompanied vocals that work exceptionally well for clarinet and orchestra. Incidentally, I should add that the chamber orchestra accompanying Ms. Kam plays smoothly and sympathetically under the sensitive direction of Maestro Gazarian. Anyway, these Verdi pieces are lush and lovely, and, in the case of the last item, bouncy, the playing from everyone, especially Ms. Kam, exquisite.

Following the Verdi is Rossini's little “Bolero,” a song he composed for fortepiano and voice. It is filled with charming melodies, which Ms. Kam exploits nicely, her clarinet floating gently in and out harmoniously in folklike sequences of romance and sentiment.

After that we get three tunes by Giacomo Puccini, operatic-influenced songs he wrote for piano accompaniment. Ms. Kam well captures the flavor of their bel canto nature. Then it's on to Amilcare Ponchielli and the chamber piece Paolo e Virginia, the only work on the program originally written with a clarinet in mind. Andreas N. Tarkmann says in a booklet note it's like “a little instrumental opera scene,” quite dramatic in its robust phrasing.

Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari gets a series of four tracks next, each of them originally intended as purely instrumental music--intermezzos and ballet interludes. This suite comes off as a kind of clarinet concerto, filled with happy, energetic, enthusiastic playing throughout. 

The disc ends with Rossini's "Nacqui all'affano" from La Cenerentola. It's typical Rossini and probably the song on the program most familiar to listeners, music overflowing with good cheer and performed in virtuosic style.

I don't usually like albums that contain bits and pieces of things, but with Ms. Kam's offering I have to make an exception. Her playing is so uniquely affecting and the arrangements so refreshing, the disc may go down as an early favorite of the year.

Producer, engineer, and editor Eberhard Hinz recorded the music for Berlin Classics at Harmonie/Theodor-Heuss-Saal, Heilbronn in 2013. Although the supporting ensemble and the venue are different from Ms. Kam’s previous album, the sound engineer remains the same, so it’s no wonder we get a similarly good recording. The clarinet sounds beautifully integrated into the acoustic field, just ahead of the orchestra but not so close as be unnatural. The midrange appears as clear and lifelike as you could ask for, and the frequency extremes, which are hardly a concern in any case, are more than adequate. There is also a warm, ambient glow to the music that is most attractive, the clarinet offering up fresh, pure, mellifluous tones.

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

Opera Breve (SACD review)

Operatic transcriptions for violin and piano of music by Falla, Tchaikovsky, Donizetti, Gluck, Rossini, Strauss, Gershwin, Saint-Saens, Humperdinck, and Raff. Philippe Quint, violin; Lily Maisky, piano. Avanticlassic 5414706 10402.

Fans of operatic transcriptions might enjoy the Opera Breve album. Fans of instrumental music might enjoy the album. Fans of violin and piano recitals might enjoy the album. Fans of violinist Philippe Quint and pianist Lily Maisky might enjoy the album. Fans of good sound might enjoy the album. In other words, there’s a little something for almost everybody here to enjoy, an album of music well played and well recorded.

For those of you unfamiliar with the artists, Philippe Quint is an award-winning American violinist who has performed with major orchestras internationally, received several Grammy nominations, starred in the major independent film Downtown Express, and recorded over half a dozen albums, of which Opera Breve is the second for the Avanticlassic label. He plays here on the 1708 “Ruby” Antonio Stradivari violin on loan from The Stradivari Society. Lily Maisky is a Paris-born pianist who has been playing the piano since the age of four. She, too, has performed extensively throughout the world and recorded for both DG and EMI.

As the album’s title suggests, Opera Breve is all about brief opera selections, transcribed for violin and piano by various people, including Mr. Quint himself. Things begin with the “Spanish Dance” from La Vida Breve by Manuel de Falla, in an arrangement by Fritz Kreisler. It’s a good indication of what to expect throughout the program. Quint tells us in a booklet note that “most of the recorded works are associations, reflections and memories that made me remember very significant people and moments in my life.” Fair enough. He goes on to say what some of those memories are about, but for the listener, the music alone is the thing.

Anyway, the “Spanish Dance” displays all the lively pizzazz Falla intended, Quint's violin darting and soaring through the notes, with Ms. Maisky's piano accompaniment following sympathetically. They make an enticing duo, each of them fully attuned to the other. The memory here, says Quint, is of street musicians playing the folk version of the tune. No doubt, folk musicians influenced his own playing of it, helping him provide much gusto to the rhythms.

And so it goes through "Lensky's Aria" from Tchaikovsky's Eugen Onegin, most wistful and serene; Donizetti's "Un Furtiva Lagrima" from l'Elisir d'Amore, solemn and equally serene; Gluck's "Melodie" from Orfeo et Eurydice, another number in the slow, Romantic vein Quint seems to prefer throughout the tracks.

However, the mood changes with a paraphrase on Rossini's "Largo al factotum" from The Barber of Seville, which comes across with all the vitality and good humor of the opera. Here, it's fun to hear Quint's violin imitating the vocals, practically singing them. Next, Richard Strauss's Morgen offers a sweetly gentle follow-up to the more boisterous Rossini, played with exquisite care and attention by both Quint and Maisky.

Then we get four selections from Gershwin's Porgy and Bess, a suite arranged by Jascha Heifetz:  "Summertime," "My Man's Gone Now," "Bess You Is My Woman Now," and "It Ain't Necessarily So." Quint shows a splendid feeling for the bluesy, jazzy atmosphere of Gershwin's songs and conveys the rich tapestry of the composer's colorful score.

The album ends with Saint-Saens's "Cantabile" from Samson et Dalila, Humperdinck's "Evening Prayer" from Hansel und Gretel, and, as a bonus, Joseph Joachim Raff's "Cavatina." They are all slow, Romantic melodies, played with much feeling, though never over-sentimentalized.

I'm not sure why Quint or the producers or whomever call the final item a bonus, though: There are only a little over fifty-three minutes of music on the program. I wish there were much more. Quint's sensitive, highly expressive playing and Ms. Maisky's admirably supportive partnership combine for one of the most-appealing albums of the year. Brief but appealing.

Avanticlassic recorded the music in hybrid two-channel/multichannel SACD at Teldex Studio, Berlin from July 12-14, 2012. As recording engineers do with quite a lot of music these days, they have recorded it rather closely, so it comes across very much in your face, and one has to play it back at a moderately low level in order for it to sound realistic. Be that as it may, the two-channel track to which I listened sounds nicely detailed, with a modest but attractive resonant bloom giving it life. The music fairly glows in this acoustic and sounds most alluring.

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

JJP

Rossini: Complete Overtures, Volume 2 (CD review)

William Tell, Silken Ladder, Il Signor Bruschino, and more. Christian Benda, Prague Sinfonia Orchestra. Naxos 8.570934.

These days most people know Italian composer Gioacchino Rossini (1792-1868) best for his overtures, of which he wrote a slew. Here, we have the second of four discs from Christian Benda and his Prague Sinfonia Orchestra, a set that encompasses all the overtures the man wrote.

There are any number of good recordings of Rossini overtures, and Benda gives us yet another good choice. Still, as I’ve said before, one needs to consider the competition before making any hasty decisions, and we already have Neville Marriner’s complete, three-disc set from Philips, a long-gone label but one still available new and used for a reasonable (sometimes absurdly low) price. And if it’s only a single disc of the most-popular overtures you’re interested in, you can find excellent bargains from the likes of, again, Marriner (Philips, PentaTone, or EMI), the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra (DG), Fritz Reiner (RCA), Piero Gamba (Decca or JVC), Peter Maag (HDTT), Riccardo Muti (EMI), Claudio Abbado (DG), Riccardo Chailly (Decca), Carlo Maria Giulini (EMI), Sir Roger Norrington (EMI), and others.  Still, Benda’s performances stand up to the best, and the Naxos sound and price are right.

Anyway, it is Benda’s apparent decision to include a few of the most-popular Rossini overtures on each of his four discs, along with several lesser-known overtures. Accordingly, Benda begins the program on Volume 2 with the biggest gun in the Rossini arsenal, Guillaume Tell, the “William Tell” overture (you can here a snippet below). As you probably know, Rossini divided the overture into four separate sections or movements: the Prelude or Dawn; the Storm; the pastorale or “Call to the Cows”; and the famous closing galop or “March of the Swiss Soldiers.” In terms of Benda’s interpretation, I suppose you could say that three out of four ain’t bad. Dawn arrives dramatically, with appropriate atmosphere; the Storm erupts with much sound and fury; the pastorale is serenely blissful; but the galop lacks the thrills provided by any number of other conductors. The Prague Sinfonia play well enough, and there’s no denying the music has elegance. Just not quite all the excitement one may expect, closer to an analytical approach in the end. Benda’s reading appears aimed more toward the pure music lover than the Lone Ranger fan, which is not altogether a bad thing.

The other big guns on the program are the overtures to the comic operas La scala di seta (“The Silken Ladder”) and Il Signor Bruschino (“Signor Bruschino, or The Son by Chance”), which Maestro Benda handles with grace, wit, and refinement. La scala di seta displays a good deal of zip and pizzazz; it’s truly an exhilarating experience, with a light, easy step for so quick a tempo. In Signor Bruschino we find both elegance and charm, yet Benda’s performance is not without a properly playful stress on the tapping of the bows.

Then, there are the less well-known works: the overtures to  Eduardo e Cristina (“Eduardo and Cristina”), L’inganno felice (“The Happy Deception”), Demetrio e Polibio (“Demetrius and Polybius”), and Sigismondo (“Sigismondo, King of Poland”), and the very early non-overture Sinfonia di Bologna, which Rossini wrote in his teens. These overtures are from largely serious, or at least semi-serious, operas, with an emphasis on typically Italian melodrama. Thus, you can expect Benda to be pretty earnest in all of it. Nevertheless, there is a goodly portion of lyrical delight throughout the pieces. This is especially true of Eduardo e Cristina, which demonstrates Benda’s ability to convey romance and adventure effectively.

One can perhaps see why not all of Rossini’s operas and overtures gained a full measure of popularity over the years. The fact is, not all of them contain the particularly inventive touches or memorable melodies. Even so, Maestro Benda makes a good case for all of them, infusing them with an élan that tends to carry the day.

If there is any one drawback I could name, though, it might be that there is less than an hour of material on the disc, including the non-overture. I can’t help thinking that Naxos could probably have included all of the overtures on three discs rather than four. Nevertheless, at so affordable a price, I shouldn’t complain.

Naxos recorded the music at Kulturni dum Barikadniku, Prague, Czech Republic, in 2011 and at Produkcni dum Vzlet, Prague, in 2012. The sound they obtained is quite good, well balanced, with no undue forwardness or dullness, a well-extended treble, fine low-end definition, solid midrange clarity and definition, reasonably sharp transient response, and overall taut impact. There is also a wide stereo spread and a modest amount of orchestral depth. A small degree of soft warmth tends to make the sound easier on the ear than it would otherwise. In all, this is one of Naxos’s better-sounding discs.

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

JJP

Rossini: Complete Overtures, Volume 1 (CD review)

Christian Benda, Prague Philharmonic Choir and Prague Sinfonia Orchestra. Naxos 8.570933.

Gioacchino Rossini (1792-1868) wrote a slew of popular operas, but today most people probably know him best for his overtures. The present disc from Christian Benda and the Prague Sinfonia Orchestra (of which Benda is the Chief Conductor) and the Prague Philharmonic Choir is the first of four volumes of the composer’s overtures from Maestro Benda.

Choice is good, and Benda gives us yet another good choice. Yet before considering any new Rossini release, you should remember that there are already quite a few excellent discs out there, not the least of which is Neville Marriner’s complete, three-disc set from Philips, a long-gone label but one still available new and used for a reasonable (sometimes absurdly low) price. And if it’s only a single disc of the most-popular overtures you’re interested in, you can find excellent bargains on-line from the likes of, again, Marriner (Philips, PentaTone, or EMI), the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra (DG), Fritz Reiner (RCA), Piero Gamba (Decca or JVC), Peter Maag (HDTT), Riccardo Muti (EMI), Claudio Abbado (DG), Riccardo Chailly (Decca), Carlo Maria Giulini (EMI), Sir Roger Norrington (EMI), and others.

Yes, there is a lot of Rossini out there. Nevertheless, if you’ve sampled all of the above or simply want to hear everything that’s available, certainly you’ll want to check out this first volume of overtures from Benda because they’re really quite good.

The program begins with three of Rossini’s most well-known overtures. The first is La gazza ladra (“The Thieving Magpie”), which Benda infuses with a stately elegance, going on to develop a reasonable amount of tension and excitement. What’s more, Benda handles the more lyrical interludes with a quick-paced grace.

Next, we find Semiramide, in which Benda exploits both the urgency and the serenity nicely. Then, we get Elisabetta, Regina d’Inghilterra (“Elizabeth, Queen of England”), about which you are probably saying, “Huh?  I’ve never heard of that.” No, but Rossini reused the same overture later for the far more-famous opera Il barbierre de Siviglia (“The Barber of Seville”). Anyway, Benda’s fleet-footed performance serves it well.

After those items, Benda serves up four more overtures that are only slightly less popular. Here, we find Otello, Rossini’s recounting of Shakespeare’s play, the music typical of the composer’s work.  Benda gives it a lively, dramatic reading. Following that is Le Siege de Cornithe (“The Siege of Corinth”), a story “of love and duty.” Benda and his players treat it with appropriate attention to the duty part perhaps more than to the love element. Regardless, it moves along at a healthy clip. Moving on, there’s the odd little Sinfonia in D “al Conventello” Overture, in which you’ll recognize the first theme from Signor Bushino. Rossini was not above borrowing from himself. Again, Benda puts all his energy into it.

The album closes with Ermione (“Hermione”), from one of Rossini’s less-successful operas. The overture is of little consequence except for a few sections taken by a chorus. I had only heard it once before and have to admit that Benda’s rendition impressed me more than before.

Naxos recorded the music at the Kulturni Dum Barikadniku, Prague, Czech Republic, in 2011, and it’s one of the label’s best efforts of late. It displays a commendable dynamic range and impact, with a fairly clean, clear midrange and more-than-adequate bass and treble extension. The sound is not quite in the Orpheus (DG) or Maag (HDTT) league, but it’s good and on a par with most of the best. The smaller forces of the Prague Sinfonia help to produce more lucid sonics than we might get from an ensemble twice its size, and the Naxos engineers do their part to ensure a wide stereo spread and a decent sense of depth and air.

JJP

Rossini: Overtures (XRCD review)

Pierino Gamba, London Symphony Orchestra. JVC JVCXR-0229-2.

After Victor Company of Japan (JVC) had remastered so many old recordings by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony, the first thing I wondered when I learned about this JVC release of Rossini overtures was why they had chosen Pierino Gamba’s 1960 recording instead of Reiner’s. After all, Reiner’s performances of six popular Rossini overtures are among the best ever put to disc, sonically and interpretively. Then I listened to Gamba and remembered why they did it.

When Decca first released Gamba’s LP, it went to the top of almost everybody’s charts, later continuing to appear on lists of recommendations from Gramophone magazine, Stereo Review, the Penguin Guide, and many more. Although I hadn’t heard the album in many years, there was no doubt in my mind about its quality less than two minutes into playing it.

Gamba leads performances of overtures from The Thieving Magpie, The Silken Ladder, The Barber of Seville, Semiramide, and William Tell, all of them initially appearing on the Decca label back in the days when Decca engineers were still using a relatively simple trio of Neumann M-50 omnidirectional microphones, with left and right “outrigger” M-50 microphones, plus a Decca pickup for the woodwinds. Gamba’s interpretations are crisp and unfussy, their precision reminding one of Toscanini. While this exactitude does lead to a small degree of coolness compared to the aforementioned Reiner as well as compared to others, like Marriner and the Academy and the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, it also brings out detail one may never have noticed before in the works. The opening of The Thieving Magpie, for instance, appears to be literally alive right before you; and the closing galop from William Tell is uncanny in its technical proficiency. Yet the whole is as exciting as any Rossini on record, Gamba’s speeds sometimes verging on the breakneck.

The sound as remastered by JVC is excellent, as we might expect, very clear, very tight. If there is any slight lack of deepest bass, it is undoubtedly because that’s the way Decca recorded it. Nevertheless, what bass is present is taut and dynamic and makes a solid impression. Occasionally, one notices a touch of harshness about the highest strings, but that, too, one can no doubt attribute to the master tape. I cannot imagine it being anything introduced through JVC’s impeccable remastering process, and, in any case, it’s so small it’s hardly noticeable.

These JVC audiophile discs are, as you know, quite expensive, running about $30.00 a pop for no more music than was on the original LP. (I like to think this has to do with getting the maximum in quality regardless of cost). High priced or not, apparently the discs sold well enough for JVC to have mastered them in their Southern California facility as well as in Japan. According to the booklet notes, this Rossini disc was “mastered by Alan Yoshida at Ocean Way Recording, Hollywood, California.” The nice thing about the U.S. manufacturing, incidentally, is that the notes are in English, something you don’t get with the Japanese product. Otherwise, the mastering from both facilities appears to be equally good.

JJP

Rossini: Sonate a quattro (UltraHD CD review)

Salvatore Accardo, violin; Sylvie Gazeau, violin; Alain Meunier, cello; Franco Petracchi, double bass. First Impression Music LIM UHD 049.

This remastered Philips album from FIM is notable for several reasons: First, it provides five of the six sonatas that Rossini wrote when he was only twelve years old. Second, it presents them in their original arrangements for string quartet rather than for a larger string ensemble as we sometimes hear them. Third, violinist Salvatore Accardo and his friends give them most-elegant interpretations. And, fourth, the folks at FIM (First Impression Music) have afforded the recording the most-beautiful audiophile sound one could imagine. Let me touch further upon each of these items.

Gioacchino Rossini (1792-1868) wrote his six Sonatas for two violins, cello and double-bass in 1804, and scholars only discovered them in the Library of Congress after World War II. Most often, we hear them in their transcriptions for small string orchestra, but it's especially nice to hear them as the original scores arrange them, for string quartet. Almost as remarkable as the young prodigy composing these works at so early an age is that after Rossini wrote thirty-eight operas by the age of thirty-eight, he pretty much retired, writing only a few occasional pieces of music during the next thirty-odd years. Apparently, he spent much of his time in retirement as a gourmet, portraits of his girth in later years attesting to the fact.

In any case, his youthful Sonatas all follow the same basic pattern: They start with relatively long opening Allegros, followed by brief central slow movements, and concluding with moderately quick-paced finales of modest duration. My favorite among them, for what it's worth, is No. 5 because it sums up everything good about the music; it's both delicately enchanting and playfully witty by turns.

The performances by Salvatore Accardo, first violin, Sylvie Gazeau, second violin, Alain Meunier, cello, and Franco Petracchi, double bass is as sweet, melodious, refined, exacting, and flexible as a listener will find anywhere. This is virtuosic playing that is completely at the service of the music: graceful, lilting, and lyrical, yet jaunty and lively when necessary. I have heard the Sonatas played by a number of different performers and groups over the years, but none surpass Accardo and his colleagues.

To remaster this 1978 Philips recording, FIM used their newest replication format, a process they call UltraHD. According to them, "Ultra High Definition 32-bit mastering is a proprietary ultra-high quality mastering system, jointly developed by two companies: Five Four Productions and First Impression Music. With this leading-edge system, our aspiration is to achieve unprecedented sonority and musicality reproducing as closely as possible the sound of the original master tape."

By the sound of this disc, I'd say they succeeded beyond expectation. The sonics are ultra smooth, with no sign of strain, edge, or harshness.  Imaging across the soundstage is excellent, with enough air around the instruments to feel their placement with precision. Dynamic contrasts sound taut yet subtle, and typical of Philips the acoustic is warmly rich and lightly resonant. It's one of the most-agreeable listening experiences a person could imagine.

FIM's packaging continues to impress me as well. They use a hardbound album approach, opening like a book, with about thirty pages of information inside, followed by a fastened black-paper sleeve into which fits a static-free inner envelope holding the disc. Moreover, the glossy hardcover front and back are beautifully illustrated. It's a class act all the way around, but I would caution it's one for which the buyer will pay a deserved premium price.

JJP

Rossini: Overtures (CD review)

Carlo Maria Giulini, Philharmonia Orchestra. EMI Classics 50999 9 18734 2 2.

Maestro Carlo Maria Giulini (1914-2005) was always one of the most-elegant conductors in the business, giving us performances of the utmost style and refinement, although often with a surplus of excitement. Call it cultured emotion or sophisticated thrills. Here, EMI offer examples of his creativity leading the Philharmonia Orchestra in a generous collection of nine overtures by Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868), culled from the company's back catalogue and totaling over seventy-seven minutes. On a mid-price disc, one could hardly ask for more.

The program begins with La scala di seta, which Giulini takes at a fairly brisk pace. This is playing of a passionate nature, yet without ever seeming rushed. Under Giulini, the overture is both stimulating and amusing. Next is Il signor Brushino, which the conductor takes at a more moderate tempo, all the better to enjoy the overture's famous tapping of the bows (which here sounds more hushed than we commonly hear it), yet with a pleasant, zippy bounce. Tancredi may be the least well known of the overtures on the disc, but that doesn't stop Giulini from giving it a thorough outing and presenting the music in a grand, sparkling manner.

L'italiana in Algeri is one of my favorite Rossini overtures, so it has always pleased me to hear how well Giulini handles it. There is a greater sense of orchestral depth here as well, which goes a long way toward one's enjoyment of the music. The popular Il barbiere de Siviglia also benefits from an increased stage depth, helping with the realism of the performance. Giulini conducts it about as well as I've ever heard it. Then, we get La Cenerentola, Rossini's musical idea of the Cinderella story not exactly in the traditional fairy-tale mode; Giulini makes sure the piece gets the big orchestral treatment it demands.

Finally, speaking of things big, the album ends with three of Rossini's late overtures--the biggest, longest, grandest of the lot. La gazza landra (The Thieving Magpie) is as witty and lively in this interpretation as one could want, yet Giulini also conveys a fine sense of mock propriety without too much bluster or fury. In Semiramide, with its excess of haunting melodies, Giulini never overdoes the composer's sometimes bombastic inclinations. Still, this is the one overture where Giulini might have enlivened things a little more than he does. The concluding number is the really big one: Guillaume Tell. As Rossini developed as a composer, his overtures became more complex, often, as here, arranged as miniature tone poems in separate movements. Giulini offers it up on the most-momentous possible scale in his usual unhurried manner. The final galop is fully engaging, which means exhilarating, not exhausting.

EMI recorded these overtures between 1956 and 1964 in Kingsway Hall, London, releasing the current reissue in 2011. The sound tends to be a tad aggressive at several junctures, yet it is never bothersome. Most of the time, the sound is clear and open, with a wide dynamic range, a strong impact, and a wide stage presence. While the bass is somewhat light, the mellowness of the lower strings nicely balances against the more-forward highs, producing a pleasant result. There is also that modest-to-excellent stage depth I mentioned earlier and the merest hint of ambient hall bloom to ensure a lifelike sonic display. One notices a small degree of tape hiss in quieter sections of the music, but that doesn't present a problem, either, since it's so faint.

For big orchestral accounts of these Rossini overtures, one can hardly go wrong with Giulini and the Philharmonia, and the price is certainly right. However, for the listener who doesn't already have them, there are other fine full-orchestra alternatives to consider: Reiner and the Chicago Symphony (RCA), Gamba and the LSO (Decca or JVC), and Maag and the Paris Conservatory Orchestra (HDTT); or for a slightly smaller ensemble, the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra (DG) and Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields (Philips or PentaTone); or for a period-instruments group, Norrington and the London Classical Players (EMI), among many others.

JJP

Rossini: Overtures (HQCD review)

Semiramide, La gazza ladra, William Tell, La Cenerentola. HDTT HQCD168.

Back in the early Seventies when I first started reviewing music for various print publications, I recall recommending several collections of Rossini overtures on LP, most of which I would still recommend today: Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony on RCA, Piero Gamba and the London Symphony on London-Decca, Peter Maag and the Paris Conservatory Orchestra on London-Decca, and the then-newly recorded set with Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields on Philips. Since that time, we have had newer albums that are quite fetching from the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra on DG, from Chailly and the National Philharmonic on Decca, and from Roger Norrington and his period-instruments group, the London Classical Players, on EMI, among others.

I mention this at the outset because these recordings are not only still with us but one can find several of them in audiophile editions. The Gamba disc, for example, is now available from JVC on an XRCD remastering, and the Marriner is available not only in a complete three-disc set from Philips but in a single-disc compilation from PentaTone Classics remastered on SACD. But until the current appearance of the Maag recording from HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers), I do not believe it ever appeared on CD. If it did, it escaped me, to be sure.

Nevertheless, absence, they say, makes the heart grow fonder. And when this 1958 Maag recording finally arrived on disc in such good shape as we find it here, one can feel not just fondness but outright joy.

The contents of the original LP were always rather meager: a scant four overtures, about forty-two minutes total. But it was never the quantity that counted but the quality, and these interpretations were, and still are, among the best you will find. Things begin with Semiramide (1823), followed by Guillaume Tell (William Tell, 1829), La gazza ladra (The Thieving Magpie, 1817), and La Cenerentola (Cinderella, 1817). Now, you'd think Maag and his Paris Orchestra would approach the scores the way most conductors do: gung-ho and hell bent for leather. He doesn't. In fact, Maag displays a good deal of reserve, calculating his interpretations for the biggest payoff. For instance, in William Tell he keeps the opening sections in check, and then he builds the final segment into a most-exciting whirlwind, the conclusion carrying you away. Or in La Cenerentola after a few minutes of careful introduction, he takes you off to the races, almost leaving you breathless. And so it goes.

But let's talk about the sound. HDTT, as you may recall, is a small audiophile company specializing in transferring older recordings on commercially obtainable reel-to-reel tapes to high-quality CD-R's (and downloads). Their focus is to bring back forgotten classical titles in audiophile sound and to issue titles that no one has released in a long time. In the case of the Maag Rossini overture recording, they have a monopoly on the situation because you won't find Maag's overtures anywhere else. Nor would you want to, they are so good here.

This is the thing: When I first bought the Maag recording on LP, it was in the late Sixties, and Decca had already by then reissued it on their budget label, an American London Stereo Treasury as I remember. No matter, it sounded fine, with a big, pounding bass that would shake the rafters. Then I ordered the Decca LP from England and the difference in sound quality amazed me. Gone was the big bass, replaced by a cleaner midrange. All I could figure at the time was that apparently Decca had fiddled with the frequency response for the American market, upping the bass and softening the high end. However, while I greatly appreciated the Decca sound, frankly, I rather missed the bass. In any case, I sold both vinyl discs many years ago in anticipation of the recording finding its way to CD, which, of course, never happened. Until now. So when HDTT sent me their remastering of the overtures, I had not heard the performances in well over twenty years. Was I disappointed? Not on your life.

HDTT was kind enough to send me the recording in two formats to review:  one burned to a gold disc, the other to an HQ disc. In both instances (from a London-Decca 4-track tape), the sound is very dynamic, with a huge range and enormous impact; it has a solid, but not overly prominent deep bass; and it has a clear midrange response and an extended treble. If one listens at abnormally loud levels, one may notice a slight tape hiss in the background, a condition inherent to almost all tapes of fifty-plus years ago. At normal listening levels, though, even in the quietest passages, the tape hiss is practically inaudible. To the most sensitive ears, one might also detect a wisp of high-end distortion or a smidgeon of pre-echo, also inherent, no doubt, to the original tape and almost undetectable. In any case, the HQCD sounded best to me: smoother, firmer, and more stable than the sound on gold. The differences are not huge, but they are enough for the audiophile to probably opt for the HQ audio.

What we get is some of the purest sound around, demonstration material if there ever was any. You want to show off your audio equipment? These Rossini overtures (take your pick, but I'd start with La gazza ladra) will knock your listener's socks off (if that's their idea of a good time). Wonderful music; wonderful renditions of the music; wonderful sound.

As usual with HDTT, the company makes the music available in a variety of formats for a variety of pocketbooks, from no-frills downloads to gold CD's to HQCD's. For details, visit http://www.highdeftapetransfers.com/storefront.php.

JJP

Rossini: Il Barbiere di Siviglia (CD review)

Maria Callas, Tito Gobbi, Luigi Alva; Alceo Galliera, Philharmonia Orchestra and Chorus. EMI 5099 9 4564442 9 (2-disc set, plus CD-ROM).

Italian composer Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868) wrote the comic opera Il Barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville) in 1816, based on one of French playwright Pierre Beaumarchais's three plays (or operas comique) on the subject. Mozart had already done the second of Beaumarchais's plays several decades before Rossini did his, so audiences were already familiar with some of the characters.

I have no idea if conductor Alceo Galliera's account of the opera with Maria Callas is the best one available. For at least the past century we've had a multitude of recordings of Il Barbiere. The fact is, though, I've lived with this EMI set for so long, I have little with which to compare it. I came to the 1957 recording sometime in the early Sixties when I was in college, and I've owned it on LP and CD ever since. EMI remastered the recording in 2007 and issued it in their "Great Recordings of the Century" line. Now, in 2010, they've re-released it in a three-disc set, this time with a CD-ROM containing a synopsis and libretto.

Maria Callas is hardly a singer one usually associates with lighthearted comedic roles, but she excels in Il Barbiere. She's delightfully impudent and flirtatious, and, of course, she sings splendidly. The booklet note says that she preceded this performance with a disastrous stage rendering in which she overacted drastically. No such impression here; she seems born to the part.

However, Callas's Rosina does not overwhelm the production. The rest of the cast, especially Tito Gobbi as Figaro, are splendid, too, as is maestro Galliera, who leads the production with sparkle. If there is any minor drawback, it's that the discs do not present the opera absolutely complete. But the presentation is close enough, and I doubt that anyone but the most-fastidious opera lover would notice the cuts, and even then they might not care.

EMI's sound was never so good as here, either. In comparing the earlier, 1986 CD mastering with this newer remastering, I found the new one both clearer and smoother. The older recording seems warmer, true, but it is also more muffled and rougher around the edges. Indeed, there are parts of this new remastering that sound almost state-of-the-art, a tribute to producer Walter Legge's artistic integrity and balance engineer Robert Gooch's impeccable miking.

I love the Galliera/Callas/Gobbi interpretation of Il Barbiere di Siviglia from beginning to end: for its wit, its charm, and its liveliness. Moreover, with its spruced up sonics coming up fresher than ever, it's even harder to resist than before. In other words, I see no reason to change my opinion of this recording after all these years.

JJP