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.

New Releases, No. 33 (CD reviews)

Prism IV: Danish String Quartet. Bach: Fugue in G minor, BWV 861; Beethoven: String Quartet No. 15 in A minor op. 132;  Mendelssohn: String Quartet No. 2 in A minor op. 13. Danish String Quartet (Frederik Øland, violin; Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen, violin; Asbjørn Nørgaard, viola; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin, cello). ECM New Series 2564.

By Karl W. Nehring

My first encounter with the late string quartets of Beethoven – which was also my first encounter with string quartets, period (I had heard the were the pinnacle of the string quartet repertoire, and figured I might as well start with the very best, right?) – was a box set of LPs by the Yale Quartet on the Vanguard label that I picked up at a discount sale price during my last term as an undergraduate student. I was, as we often said in those days, “blown away” by the music emanating from my then-new Polk Audio Monitor 10s. I was simply amazed that anyone could write music like that, music that seemed to have come from some realm beyond mere human comprehension. My respect for Beethoven, already considerable, expanded exponentially. A day or two after purchasing the set, in fact, I stayed up all night writing papers for a couple of my philosophy classes, playing the late quartets of Beethoven over and over and over again. What greater philosophical inspiration could a young man hope for, I ask you?

Over the decades since I have listened to many and owned several sets of the late quartets on CD (the Yale, Emerson, Takács, and Tokyo box sets remain on my CD rack). Now in my later years I have suddenly found myself being taught a revelatory lesson by about the late quartets by a relatively young string quartet, and I must confess that it took me until their fourth lesson to finally “get it.”

As the statement on the back cover of this and each of the three preceding volumes of their “Prism” series of ECM New Series releases has stated: “Lines of connection are drawn in the Danish String Quartet’s five Prism volumes from a Bach fugue through one of the late Beethoven quartets to the music of a subsequent composer.” Although I had listened to two of the of previous three releases from this ECM “Prism” series by the Danish String Quartet, one a few times, the other just once (and cursorily, at that, I will admit, having not quite “gotten” the first), the “line of connection” never connected with me. This time, however: POW!

For whatever reason, from the opening notes of the Bach fugue from the Well Tempered Clavier, arranged for string quartet by Emanuel Aloys Förster, I felt the spirit of the late quartets. As the young Danes moved from Bach to Beethoven, the shift of gears was nearly imperceptible. Later, as the foursome turned from Beethoven to Mendelssohn, that shift, although more perceptible, was anything but abrupt. From start to finish, Prism IV is a rewarding musical experience that truly does reveal a line though genres and generations. You don’t have to read the liner notes to appreciate that Beethoven revered and studied the music of Bach and that Mendelssohn of course studied the music of Beethoven, but the notes are informative and helpful nonetheless in filling in some of the details. The engineering is up to the usual ECM standard, rich and resonant.

Corazón: The Music of Latin America. Brouwer: Canción de cuna*; Villa-Lobos: O canto do cisne negro, W 122; Carlos Guastavino: Pampamapa; Manuel Ponce: Par ti mi corazón; Egberto Gismonti: Água e Vinho;* Ponce: Estrellita (arr. by JIJI & Jascha Heifetz); Piazzolla: Le Grand Tango; Villa-Lobos: Pequeña Suite - Melodia; Ondulando; Ponce: Sonata in G minor for violincello and piano; Piazzolla: Oblivion. John-Henry Crawford, cello; Victor Santiago Asuncion, piano; *JIJI, guitar. Orchid Classics ORC100198.

My guess would be (to be honest, I’m often wrong, but bear with me) that for many classical music fans, when they see the phrase “the music of Latin America,” the cello is not the first instrument that comes to mind. Or even the second or third, for that matter. But as fate would have it, in the summer of 2019, the young American cellist John-Henry Crawford (b. 1993) traveled to Mexico to compete in an international cello competition, won first prize, wound uo returning to Mexico many times for performances, and as he recounts, “fell in love with the music of Latin America, the culture, the history, and the Spanish language. This album takes the listener on a musical tour through Argentina, Brazil, Cuba, and Mexico… spanning over 140 years of Latin American music culture.”

From the opening measures of Leo Brouwer’s Canción de cuna, arranged here for cello and guitar, you immediately get the sense that Crawford is out to communicate, not to bedazzle. This is playing of warmth and expressiveness, not of virtuosic excess. The cello/guitar combination also works well on Egberto Gismonti’s Água e Vinho, a dreamily lyrical piece from a composer whose name I best remember from his ECM guitar album Sol Do Meio Dia back in 1978, as well as on the next piece, Manuel Ponce’s Estrellita, on which Crawford’s cello just sings a tender love song, accompanied by JIJI’s guitar.

On the remaining pieces except for one, Crawford is accompanied by Victor Santiago Asuncion on piano. The “big” piece is the Ponce Sonata in G minor. Although it is of course the most formally structured composition on the album, it does not sound out of place, as it has its passages with the same lilt and flair heard in many of the other works herein. And it would be hard to imagine an album of Latin American music that did not include music by Villa-Lobos, represented here by three melodically gifted selections that tug at the heart, or Astor Piazzolla, represented here by two selections. The first is a composition in the style that made him famous, Le Grand Tango, which sounds suitably grand even when arranged for only cello and piano, with Crawford and Asuncion both playing with passion and power for eleven soulful minutes that are a highlight of the album.

Piazzolla’s Oblivion closes the album, the mood being more moody and reflective, the tango here having more of a last dance feeling in an arrangement for 14 cellos that gives Crawford an opportunity to let his cello sing in several registers simultaneously through the miracle of digital engineering. Because I was curious about just how this track might have been recorded, I inquired of Crawford through his PR agency and received his helpful explanation: “Yes, the last track is a cello choir plus solo line that is made up of only my playing layered over itself. The pizzicato replicates the double bass, and required the cello to be scordatura, and then there are three to a part on a quartet plus the solo cello line imitating the bandoneón." (Note that “scordatura” refers to an alternate tuning.) A quick note about the engineering, then, which is by the redoubtable Adam Abeshouse, a name that seems to pop up fairly often on fine-sounding recordings, of which this is an example. For cello lovers and/or fans of Latin American music, Corazón is an easy recommendation.

Brahms: Cello Sonata No. 1 in E minor Op. 38; 7 Songs (arr. Norbert Salter [1868-1935] & David Geringas [b. 1946]); Cello Sonata No 2. in F Op. 99. Antonio Meneses, cello; Gérard Wyss, piano. AVIE AV2493.

Are you in the mood for some more music for cello and piano? If so, let’s take a trip across the Atlantic from Latin America to Germany (or, if you are really in the mood for some fun, travel, and adventure, we could always set sail across the Pacific and then hike across Asia on our way to Europe) for an encounter with the music of Johannes Brahms (1833-1897). Brahms is sometimes referred to as the third “B” of that pop-culture classical music composer trinity: Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms. Interestingly enough, all three of these musical icons composed landmark works for the cello – Bach with his suites for solo cello (I reviewed a recent recording of a couple of these here ???), Beethoven with his sonatas for cello and piano (you can see a review of a recent recording here ???), and Brahms with the two sonatas included in this new recording by the Brazilian cellist Antonio Meneses (b. 1967) and Swiss pianist Gérard Wyss (b. 1944).

These two sonatas come from different periods in Brahms’s career. He began working on Sonata No. 1 in the summer of 1862, relatively early in his career, completing what we now have as the first two movements plus an Adagio movement that may or may not have been adapted many years later into the slow movement of his Sonata No. 2. For whatever reason, he then put the piece aside for three years before writing the finale and deeming it complete in 1865 (publishing it in 1866) with only three rather than the usual four movements. The first movement, however, is quite substantial, longer than the following two movements combined. As a result, this is not a brief sonata. Moreover, that first movement is not only long (14:43 in this performance), it is a musical composition that could seemingly stand on its own as a complete piece, so eloquent and moving is it, especially as played here with such warmth of tone and fluidity of line by Meneses and Wyss. I must confess – without shame, to be honest – that while auditioning this CD for review, I often found myself returning to this movement and playing at least parts of it, especially the opening few minutes, just to enjoy the sheer beauty of the music.

Brahms did not start work on another cello sonata for another 20 years, composing it in 1886 and publishing it in 1887. This work is in the more traditional four movements, with the opening movement again being the longest, but at just over nine minutes as performed here, not as extended as in the previous sonata. One of the things that the attentive listener will notice is how skillfully Brahms writes for both the cello and the piano, giving both instruments distinctive voices. Perhaps the highlight of the piece is the second movement, marked Adagio affettuoso, music that should be able to bring consolation to the most forlorn of souls. Note the way that Brahms employs his familiar device of playing competing rhythms against each other at times to create a feeling of tension, here of course with only two instruments. Hear also how the cello plays at times very low notes, at other times very high notes – all within the same short movement.

Between the two sonatas, the disc is filled out generously (total time is 75:12) with seven songs by Brahms arranged for cello and piano. Among these seven is Wiegenlied Op 49 No. 4, better known by it popular title as the “Brahms lullaby.” These songs contain some lovely melodies, but are played here as serious music, not as pop kitsch. Something that stands out about this release is a sense of warmth, both in the playing and in the engineering. For comparative purposes, I pulled down from my CD rack a Sony recording from 1992 of the two sonatas made by Yo-Yo Ma and Emmanuel Ax. The sound seemed just a bit thinner and colder, and the playing seemed just not quite as expressive – a bit cooler, if you will. For both performance and sonics, my preference is for this new AVIE release, which is definitely a keeper.

KWN

Anne Akiko Meyers: Shining Night (CD review)

Music of Corelli, Bach, Paganini, and more. Anne Akiko Meyers, violin; Jason Vieaux, guitar; Fabio Bidini, piano. Avie AV2455.

By John J. Puccio

American concert violinist Anne Akiko Meyers has always seemed to me to produce some of the most graceful, most sensitive music in the classical world. That has never been more noticeable than in her latest album, “Shining Night.” Here’s a rundown of the contents to illustrate the point:

Arcangelo Corelli: La Folia
J.S. Bach: Air on G
Niccolo Paganini: Cantabile
Manuel Ponce: Estrellita “Little Star”
Heitor Villa-Lobos: Aria from Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5
Duke Ellington: “In My Solitude”
Astor Piazzolla: “Bordel” 1900, “Cafe” 1930, “Night-club” 1960, “Concert d’aujourd’hui”
Hugo Peretti: “Can’t Help Falling Love”
Leo Brouwer: Laude al Arbol Gigante
Morten Lauridsen: “Dirait-On” and “Sure on This Shining Night”

Ms. Meyers describes her motivation for the album coming from a conversation she had with composer Morten Lauridsen, whom she asked if he had written any duos that included the violin. He said he had written a tune describing a man going on a walk and thinking back over his life. She then says, “That inspired this collection of pieces that metaphorically begins in the morning and explores the vast musical history through Baroque, Romantic, Popular, and current genres. The common themes throughout the music reflect on one’s relationship with nature, love, and poetry. And how in dark and challenging times, kindness profoundly affects our souls and opens infinite possibilities when living our lives.”

So, she begins the program with Corelli’s La Folia, written some 400 years ago, and continues through Lauridsen’s relatively recent “Sure on This Shining Night.” Ms. Meyers does full justice to each of the pieces, from the regal elegance of Corelli to the more modern material. In fact, the Corelli becomes wonderfully vibrant in places, alternating with Meyers’s effectively contemplative interludes. The “Folio” was a popular dance of the day that followed a series of diverse variations, all of which Ms. Meyers conveys with equal ease.

The familiar “Air” from Bach’s Orchestral Suite No. 3 never sounded more beautiful, taken neither too fast nor too slow. As with most of the selections on the album, Ms. Meyers makes the music sing. It’s quite lovely, especially when she follows it up with Paganini’s equally lyrical Contabile. Jason Vieaux’s gently sympathetic guitar accompaniment adds to the sweetness of the affair.

We reach the twentieth century with the music of Gerald Ponce, his quiet Estrellita “Little Star” leading the way. It’s a romantic song reflecting the sorrow, pain, and hope of love. Ms. Meyers follows that with an ode to the moon by Villa-Lobos, all shadowy twilight and, again, her violin voices the notes as a singer might, with tenderness and understanding. The music is poignant and evocative; the playing is exquisite. Put another way, the album’s sixty-seven minutes seemed far shorter and for me could have gone on forever.

And so it goes. If you love the sound of the violin in the hands of expert technician and artisan of her trade, you can’t do much better than Anne Akiko Meyers. As I said in the beginning, her artistry is always skilled, delicate, intricate, and touching. She makes every note mean something as few musicians can. In the present album, we hear her at her best and most eloquent.

Producers David Frost and Anne Akiko Meyers and engineers Silas Brown and Sergey Parfenov recorded the music at Zipper Hall at the Colburn School in November 2021. The violin tone is luscious, clean, clear, never edgy or bright, and the guitar and piano accompaniments are moderately recessed to give proper dominance to the violin.

JJP

Violin Sonatas (CD review)

Music by Freitas Branco, Ravel, Villa-Lobos. Bruno Monteiro, violin; Joao Paulo Santos, Piano. Et’cetera Records KTC 1750.

By John J. Puccio

Let us begin with a refresher on the participants, Bruno Monteiro, violin, and Joao Paulo Santos, piano. According to his biography, Mr. Monteiro is "heralded by the daily Publico as one of Portugal’s premier violinists” and by the weekly Expresso as “one of today's most renowned Portuguese musicians.” He is internationally recognized as an eminent violinist, whom Fanfare describes as having a “burnished golden tone” and Strad says has “a generous vibrato” producing radiant colors. Music Web International refers to his interpretations as having a “vitality and an imagination that are looking unequivocally to the future” and that reach an “almost ideal balance between the expressive and the intellectual.” Gramophone lauds his “unfailing assurance and eloquence” and Strings Magazine notes that he is “a young chamber musician of extraordinary sensitivity."

Monteiro’s accompanist, the Spanish pianist Joao Paulo Santos, is a graduate of the Lisbon National Conservatory, completing his piano studies in Paris with Aldo Ciccolini. For the past forty years he has worked with the Lisbon Opera House, first as Chief Chorus Conductor and more recently as Director of Musical and Stage Studies. He has also distinguished himself as an opera conductor, a concert pianist, and a researcher. Together, Monteiro and Santos make an outstanding team and make  outstanding music.

On the present album, they offer three sonatas for violin and piano. The first, by Luis De Freitas Branco (1890-1955), perhaps the least well known of the composers represented on the program. De Freitas was a Portuguese composer, professor, and musicologist who played an important role in the evolution of Portuguese music in the first half of the twentieth century. Among his most-important works are four symphonies, a violin concerto, and any number of shorter pieces, including the selection we have here, the Sonata No. 1 for Violin and Piano, written in 1908 when the composer was only seventeen years old and a conservatory student in Lisbon. It created a bit of stir in the musical world because of its somewhat revolutionary (i.e., modern) tendencies. Let’s say, its cyclical form and occasional dissonances were not as easy on the ears as most of its Romantic predecessors.

The opening movement is an Andantino, a little faster than an Andante, which itself can be fairly slow. Whatever, the Andantino is the closest thing in the sonata to being in the purely Romantic vein, at least the way Monteiro and Santos play it. It is sweet and lyrical and amply demonstrates both musicians’ sensitive style. The second movement brightens things up considerably: a light, playful romp. The composer marks the third movement Adagio molto, very slow, and the two players give it an extra degree of delicacy. It’s quite beautiful, rapturous, actually. By the finale, an Allegro con fuoco, things take a decidedly modern turn, although Monteiro and Santos modulate the conflicts to keep it in line with the honeyed flavor of the earlier movements.

Next up, we get the Sonata No. 2 for Violin and Piano in G major, completed in 1927 by French composer Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). Monteiro and Santos consider it important because two of Bela Bartok’s sonatas influenced it and because it was the final chamber work Ravel would write. When it premiered, it featured George Enescu on violin and Ravel himself on piano. It sounds typical of Ravel, full of dreamy impressionism, which Monteiro is especially keen on communicating. Yet the violinist never lets it become swoony or sentimental. The second movement is titled “Blues,” obviously patterned after the American jazz idioms becoming so popular in the day. Monteiro and Santos pull it off with an easy assurance. There seems little beyond their range. The third and final movement is a “Perpetuum mobile,” an allegro that wraps up the proceedings in a kind of whirlwind fashion. Again the players are letter perfect in their handling of the mood and flavor of the piece.

The final selection is the Sonata No. 2 for Violin and Piano Fantasia by Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959). It apparently got a lukewarm reception in its first performances but picked up enthusiastic support a few years later after some revision and its publication in 1933. Like much of Villa-Lobos’s music, it is rich, vibrant, and charmng throughout, and Monteiro and Santos give it its due. Their playing is spirited yet refined, vivacious yet sensitive, and always colorful. This piece wraps up another enchanting album by a pair of gifted musicians.

Producers Bruno Monteiro and Dirk De Greef and engineer Jose Fortes recorded the music at ISEG Concert Hall, Lisbon, Portugal in December 2021. You couldn’t ask for better sound. Both the violin and the piano are about as realistic as being in the room with them. Crisp definition, exceptional clarity, yet smooth and natural, the sound is first-class in every respect.

JJP

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

Recent New Releases, No. 9 (CD Mini-Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Albores: Dino Saluzzi, bandoneon. ECM 2638 774 7754.

Dino Saluzzi (b. 1935) is a master of the bandoneon, an accordion-like instrument most often associated with the tango. However, the music on Albores, consisting of nine compositions by Saluzzi, is not tango music, as we can infer from a glance at the back cover. The title of the first track, Adiós Maestro Kancheli, is a reference to Georgian composer Giya Kancheli (1935-2019), whose music was sprawling, eruptive, disruptive, and highly charged. Saluzzi’s dedication reads: “Dear Maestro and friend, your wonderful music will always remain with me. It was a great honor to get to know you.” This and the other eight compositions on Albores are in a serious, probing, deeply reflective vein, drawing the listener in as if listening to an intense movement from a late Beethoven string quartet or Schubert piano sonata. Saluzzi is not dashing off tunes for mere entertainment, but making music for contemplation and aesthetic uplift. Beautiful, inspiring music; however, every rose has its thorn – the sound of the bandoneon, while rich and complex in its own way, also includes clicking and popping from the keys and buttons that may cause you to think your CD player is mistracking at times. If you can get past that, you will be richly rewarded.

Arvo Pärt: Miserere. Which Was the Son of…; Festina lente; Tribute to Caesar; Sequentia; The Deer’s Cry; Miserere; And I Heard a Voice…. Howard Arman, Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks; Münchner Rundfunkorchester; oestereichisches ensemble fuer neue music. BR Klassik 900527.

One of the consolations of having to spend so much time at home because of the pandemic has been the opportunity to have more time to enjoy beautiful recordings such as this. The choral music of Estonian composer Arvo Pärt (b. 1935) is always a joy to hear, and especially so when it is so expertly performed and recorded as it is on this new collection featuring the Bavarian Radio Chorus. And speaking of the pandemic, the liner notes explain the ‘Happy Birthday, Arvo Pärt!’ was the title of the first choir subscription concert of the 2020/21 season, at which Pärt’s 85^th birthday was to have been celebrated – with the composer himself actually present. Indeed, it could have been a double birthday, since the Bavarian Radio Chorus is also celebrating its 75^th anniversary. But everything turned out differently. Arvo Pärt stayed at home, as did the concert audience. The singers and their artistic director Howard Arman remained at their posts, albeit with the respectful social distancing required by the coronavirus. Also on hand behind their glass screens, were the sound engineer and his team, who recorded a significant part of the present CD edition.” Although it may have been a big disappointment not to have a live concert, in the end we music lovers at home have ended up being the beneficiaries, as the resultant recording, with all but the performance of Miserere being captured in studio settings rather than live concert performances, are extremely well recorded, making this release a sonic as well as musical delight. The excellent liner booklet that includes texts makes this a first-class release in every respect.

Glass: Les Enfants Terribles; Etudes Nos. 17 and 20. Katia and Marielle LaBéque, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 4855097.

Katia (b. 1950) and Marielle (b. 1952) Labèque are French sisters who have been making recordings and performing for more than five decades across a variety of genres, even including a stint with jazz guitarist John McLaughlin, with whom Katia was romantically linked for several years in the 1980s. The sisters  have played jazz, baroque, ragtime, and both mainstream and contemporary classical music. In 2005, they performed the world premiere of Philip Glass’s Double Concerto for two pianos, which the composer dedicated to the sisters. More recently, Glass requested that his longtime collaborator and arranger Michael Riesman put together a two-piano suite based on Glass’s opera Les Enfants Terribles. Those familiar with the music of Philip Glass know that he falls into the “minimalist” camp; however, this suite for two pianos is in places boisterous, dramatic, and exciting, played with flair and power, while at other times reflective and brooding, played with sensitivity and finesse. For a video glimpse of the sisters playing this music, you can catch a glimpse here. The program is rounded out with solo performances by Marielle of Glass’s Etude No. 17 and Katia of his Etude No. 20. The former is charming, expressive – Glass’s piano music shows him at his best – while the latter seems to reveal another dimension of expression that transcends minimalism, Glass’s music extending into another dimension and bringing the listener along for the ride.  

Songs from Home: Fred Hersch, piano. Palmetto PM2197.

This is another of those musical efforts that in some respects we owe to the COVID-19 pandemic. Jazz pianist Fred Hersch recorded this solo piano album in his own home on his own piano and is now sharing it with us for our enjoyment while we are still trying to get the upper hand in our ongoing battle with the coronavirus. This truly is an entertaining collection of music both familiar, with renditions of tunes including but not limited to  “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly,” “Wichita Lineman,” Joni Mitchell’s “All I Want,” and an original by Hersch. The piano he uses is not perfect, but the resultant sound just adds to the personal feel. The music is familiar, although played with a personal flair, and the overall feeling is one of great intimacy and direct communication. I played it one evening when my wife was at home, and from the other room she commented, “that CD you’re playing makes me feel like we are having a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant with a really good piano player taking requests and making sure everybody is having a memorable evening. That’s really nice – who is it?” Yes, Songs from Home truly is a feel-good CD, and by the time you get to the final cut, “When I’m Sixty-four,” you will have had a memorable listening experience thanks to the musical mastery and communicative spirit of Maestro Hersch.

Vida Breve: Bach/Busoni: Chaconne from Partita No 2 in D minor BWV 1004; Chopin: Piano Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor; Liszt: Funérailles from Harmonies poétiques et religieuses; Bagatelle sans tonalite; Busoni: Kammer-Fantasie über Carmen; Hough: Piano Sonata No. 4 ‘Vida Breve’: Traditional/Hough: Arirang. Steven Hough. Piano. Hyperion CDA68260.

As you might be led to infer by the titles of the CD itself and some of the selections, and the inclusion of the Chopin funeral march, this program by British pianist Stephen Hough is not all sweetness and light. That said, there is beauty to be found here, in the music, the playing, and in the recorded sound, which is a bit on the distant but warm side, which seems just right for the reflective mood that Hough seems to be inviting us to enter as we contemplate one of the bedrock certainties of life, as he explains: “People are often reluctant to talk about death… but in the world of the arts – in painting, literature, and music – death has always been a central subject resulting in the most exalted and inexhaustible expression, the image of a dead man hanging on a cross arguably the fundamental icon of Western culture… On this recording I wanted to explore some pieces that have this theme as part of their identity or inspiration.” But no, you do not have to ponder your mortality as you listen to this recording, for this is beautiful music that can be enjoyed for what it is, beautiful music, beautifully performed and recorded, bringing joy to your life for 78 beautiful minutes.   

Villa-Lobos: Choral Transcriptions. Mendelssohn: Lieder ohne Worte, Book 2-No.9 in E major; Bach: Prelude and Fugue No. 8 in E flat minor/D sharp minor BWV 853; Schumann: Traumerei; Bach: Fugue No. 1 in C major, BWV 846; Schubert: Ständchen; Bach: Fugue No. 21 in B flat major, BWV 866; Chopin: Waltz No. 7 in C sharp minor; Bach: Prelude No. 22 in B flat minor, BWV 867; Rachmaninov: Prelude in C sharp minor; Bach: Prelude no. 14 in F sharp minor, BWV 883; Massenet: Élégie; Bach: Fugue No. 5 in D major, BWV 874; Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 8 ‘Pathétique’ – II. Adagio cantabile; Villa-Lobos: Bachianas Brasileiras No. 9 (version for choir). Valentina Peleggi, São Paulo Symphony Choir. NAXOS 8.574286.

From 1933 to 1935, Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) created a number of transcriptions of classical music compositions by other composers in arrangements for a cappella choir, especially of the Preludes and Fugues from Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier. As you can see from the selections listed above, this recording by the São Paulo Symphony Choir under the direction of Italian conductor Valentina Peleggi places an emphasis on the latter, with a number of Bach selections seasoned with some selections by other familiar figures, and ending with a choral version of one of Villa-Lobos’s own Bach-inspired compositions, his Bachianas Brasileiras No. 9, which the composer dedicated to American composer Aaron Copland. Most of the arrangements are for wordless choir; only the Schubert and the Massenet selection feature lyrics, which are presented in the liner booklet. Although some readers might be led to think of something like the old Swingle Singers recordings of Bach, this is something much different, as the choir is much larger and the arrangements are much more complex and nuanced than those of the Swingles (not to knock them, they were great fun). Having the Bach arrangements run as a thread throughout the program gives it weight and body, while having the other arrangements provides variety and color. Hearing a melody with which you are familiar from having heard on the piano (for me, it was the Rachmaninov Prelude in C sharp minor) sung by this large choir is a transcendent moment, sure to bring a shiver and a smile. This is a truly delightful recording that should appeal to a wide variety of music lovers. The recording quality is just fine, offering a sense of space without the overly resonant muddiness that mars some choral releases.  

KWN

Villa-Lobos: The Guitar Manuscripts, Volume 1 (CD review)

Andrea Bissoli, guitar; Lia Serafini, soprano; Federica Artuso, guitar; Stefano Brait, flute; Francesco Erle, Schola San Rocco Chorus; Fabio Mechetti, Minas Gerais Philharmonic Orchestra. Naxos 8.573115.

Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) was probably the most important and influential Brazilian composer of the twentieth century. Accordingly, over the years musicians have recorded most, if not all, of his published material. Nevertheless, this first of three volumes brings together not only some of his more-familiar pieces but thanks to the research of Italian guitarist Andrea Bissoli includes several of the composer's rare and newly discovered works. The album is mostly a treat.

Taking no chances, Bissoli begins the program with a fairly well-known piece, Villa-Lobos's Guitar Concerto, which the composer wrote for guitar great Andres Segovia in 1951. Just don't expect it to sound too much like Joaquín Rodrigo's concerto for guitar, the Concierto de Aranjuez, written more than a decade earlier. Villa-Lobos's composition is a touch edgier, more angular, more modern than Rodrigo's more melodic, more Romantic work. Still, Villa-Lobos's music is easy on the ear, and Bissoli handles it with care. His guitar craftsmanship is sweet and flowing, yet virtuosic when necessary. Several passages are quite lovely, especially toward the end of the first movement, and Bissoli seems to cherish them. The final movement, marked Allegro non troppo - Viva, has a nicely paced rhythm to it, finishing up in lively style without sounding rushed or frenzied, just as the tempo marking indicates. It's a good way, as I said, to start the album.

After that we find a whole series of short pieces, some of them with vocal accompaniment, some of them transcriptions of piano music for guitar, and yet others more recently unearthed in world-premiere recordings. One of the more interesting items to me was Valse-Choro, a gentle waltz that lay undiscovered for eighty years. It contains some wonderfully imaginative sections for the guitar, which Bissoli handles with much charm. Then there are the Cirandas Nos. 1 and 14, arrangements of piano pieces for two guitars. Here, guitarist Federica Artuso joins Bissoli for a pair of French folk-inspired tunes of creative verve.

Andrea Bissoli

The few selections I didn't care as much for were those with soprano Lia Serafini. Whether by chance or design, the vocals sounded rather too forward for my taste. I'm not sure if it was entirely a matter of the venue, the singer's voice not complementing the music, or the engineer's miking of the voice; but the singing appeared a bit too bright and edgy to me in the highest, loudest passages. Be that as it may, Ms. Serafini's voice is otherwise expressive and beauteous, negotiating Villa-Lobos's music with an affectionate tone in five voice-and-piano works transcribed for voice and guitar.

Producer Alessandro Panetto and engineers Uli Schneider, Federico Pelle, Andrea Dandolo, and Matteo Costa recorded the music at Teatro do Centro Educacional, Ibirite, Minas Gerais, Brazil, and Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Carmini, Vicenza, Italy, between 2009 and 2012. The sound of the guitar and orchestra is quite good, if a tad close. It's very clean, very clear, dynamic, and open. There's a wide stereo spread involved, quick transient response with the guitar, little or no bass overhang, and a pleasantly mild hall bloom enhancing the sound. On the vocals, however, the room resonance (or the miking) seems to work against the high notes, making them appear slightly too aggressive.

JJP

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