Recent Releases No. 81 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

 

Martinu: (CD1) Symphonies Nos. 1 & 2; (CD2) Symphonies Nos. 3 & 4 (CD3) Symphonies No. 5 & No. 6 “Fantaisies Symphoniques.” Bamberger Symphoniker; Jakub Hrusa, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 486 7810

First, please allow me to apologize for not including the appropriate diacritical marks in the names of the composer and conductor; frustratingly enough, my computer did not make those available for me, alas. However, I hope that sharp-eyed readers will be able discern the correct typography from the album cover image. Moving on to another consideration, I was surprised to discover that (a) at the time I write this, there are only three listings for Martinu reviews on the Classical Candor website [it will show four when this review is posted, of course] and (b) of those three, none was for any of his symphonies. But what we have here is a fine new release that includes first-rate performances in excellent recorded sound quality of not just some but rather of all six of his symphonies. For fans of these works, this set will be a welcome breath of fresh air, something for which they have been waiting for a long time indeed. For those unfamiliar with Martinu’s symphonies, they are certainly pleasant, if not particularly memorable. To be honest, I have listened over and over and over again to this set, trying and trying and trying to get a handle on it. But the best I can say is what I just said: it is pleasant, at times quite interesting, but to these ears at least, is never quite memorable. For me, Martinu never quite seems to know just where he is going with his symphonies. I can enjoy them, but never do I feel they are moving me emotionally or intellectually. But having listened to other Martinu symphony recordings, I can recognize this one as especially fine; as a result, I recommend it highly to longtime Martinu fans as well as those newcomers looking to explore his music. It’s a superb account.

 

Walton: Orb and Sceptre; Symphony No. 1 in B flat minor; Symphony No. 2. City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra; Kazuki Yamada, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 486 8227

The English composer Sir William Walton (1902-1983) wrote music in a variety of formats, including film scores, operas, concertos, and symphonies. Back in 2018, when my old friend and colleague from The $ensible Sound audio magazine days invited me to contribute to Classical Candor, my very first review (which you can read here) was of a recording of Walton’s Viola Concerto, which is a bit ironic, given that in the course of my otherwise quite positive review I did happen to mention that “although I have a fair number of recordings of Walton's music in my CD collection, I must confess that I seldom play any of them.” But one that I do play and enjoy from time to time is the Previn/LSO recording of the First Symphony. Compared to Previn, Yamada seems a bit less intense, missing some of the fire and drama inherent in the music, especially in the opening movement. The advantage of this new release from DG is having both symphonies on one disc, in excellent sound and smooth, professional performances. However, the vintage Previn recordings are still the gold standard. 

 

Marilyn Crispell/Anders Jormin: Memento. Crispell/Jormin: For the Children; Crispell/Jormin: Dialogue; Crispell/Jormin: Embracing the Otherness; Crispell/Jormin: Contemplation in D; Jormin: Three Shades of a House – Morning; Three Shades of a House – Evening; Crispell: Song; Crispell: Memento; Crispell: Beach at Newquay; Jormin: The Dark Light; Crispell: Dragonfly. Marilyn Crispell, piano; Anders Jormin, double bass. ECM 2867

American pianist Marilyn Crispell (b. 1976) was trained as a classical pianist, beginning her studies at age seven at Peabody Conservatory, then later graduating from the New England Conservatory of Music in 1968. It was not until 1975 that she developed an interest in jazz, her interest having been triggered by her exposure to John Coltrane’s legendary recording A Love Supreme, which she found spellbinding. She began to hang with jazz musicians playing in an intense style that left little space between the notes. But this began to change in the early 1990s when on a trip to Europe she encountered an ensemble that included bassist and composer Anders Jormin (b. 1957). Hearing this more lyrical style of music touched something deep inside her, and before long she wound up touring and recording with Jormin’s Bortom Quintet. Since then, both Crispell and Jormin have appeared on numerous ECM albums, both as leaders and supporting players; in fact, we have reviewed some albums featuring Jormin on double bass, and those reviews can be found (here) and (here). Throughout Memento, you can feel the joy and empathy these two musicians share as they unite to create music. From Crispell’s opening piano notes of For the Children, soon joined by Jormin’s bowed bass, the music simply flows. Never is there a hint of note-spinning for the sake of virtuoso display from either player; rather, the atmosphere is one of contemplative beauty throughout. Memento is an ideal fusion of jazz and chamber music, recommended highly to fans of both genres.

 

Miroslav Vitous: Mountain Call. Miroslav Vitous/Michel Portal: New Energy; Second Touch; On the Way; Vitous: Unexpected Solutions; Tribal Dance; Vitous/Portal: Rehearsal in Theatre; Discussion; Vitous: Epilogue; Vitous/Portal: Delusion; Vitous: Evolution – Path Begins/Nature Opening/Fulfillment Final; Rhapsody – In You/Fun and Games/Africa/In Me/Lullaby; Mountain Call. Miroslav Vitous, double bass; Michel Portal, clarinet, bass clarinet; Jack DeJohnette, drums; Bob Mintzer, bass clarinet; Esperanza Spalding, voice; Gary Campbell, soprano and tenor saxophones; Members of the Czech National Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Miroslav Vitous. ECM 2763

It was quite a pleasant surprise to find this CD by the veteran Czech bassist Miroslav Vitous (b. 1947), who had a long and distinguished career in jazz having played with a veritable who's who of jazz stars such as Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, Herbie Mann, Roy Ayers, Billy Cobham, Jan Garbarekand others. In 1970, he teamed with keyboardist Joe Zawinul and saxophonist Wayne Shorter to form the core of Weather Report, the jazz fusion super group. Recent back problems have forced Vitous to give up playing the double bass, although he is still active as a composer. Mountain Call consists of music that was recorded in by Vitous in Prague at various sessions from 2003 through 2010. Sadly enough, the two musicians given top cover billing along with Vitous are no longer with us, French clarinetist and composer Michel Portal (1935-2026) the revered American drum demigod Jack DeJohnette (1942-2025). Such a delight it is to hear the interplay between Portal and Vitous as the dance and weave their way through the first four tracks; DeJohnette proves that he too is an able dance partner. Some listeners may find themselves put off by Spalding’s vocals; those tracks are brief, and then the album end with an impassioned duet featuring Portal on bass clarinet and Vitous wringing sheer passion from his bass. For the many fans of Miroslav Vitous who have missed hearing him for quite some time now, ECM has given us quite the treasure.

Bowen and Walton Viola Concertos (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

York Bowen: Concerto for Viola and Orchestra, Op. 25; William Walton: Concerto for Viola and Orchestra in A Minor. Diyang Mei, violist; Brett Dean, conductor; Deutsche Radio Philharmonie. SWR Music SWR19158CD

 

As far as I can tell, this is the first time that the York Bowen and William Walton Viola Concertos have appeared together on the same recording. Given how small the viola concerto repertoire is, this may be somewhat surprising at first glance. But most who are familiar with both works would probably say that it’s a decidedly uneven pairing. It’s not so surprising that the Bowen has been committed to disc only about four times previously. Despite making a good impression in its early days, it is just not in the same league as the Walton Concerto. Bowen is one of those composers I want to love, one who wrote loads of meat-and-potatoes instrumental repertoire that I was once eager to jump into. But while he had remarkable craft and facility, he didn’t possess much of a vision. His music is nice in the moment and difficult to recall afterward.

In some ways this pairing is unfortunate for its musicians. Had they offered up the Cecil Forsyth Viola Concerto (for example) with the Bowen instead of the Walton, as Lawrence Power did with Martyn Brabbins and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra (Hyperion CDA67546), they might have produced a consistently fine effort. Instead, what we have is Diyang Mei and company playing with skill and polish in the Bowen and struggling with the higher expressive stakes of the Walton. In the former, these musicians deliver each pleasant but inconsequential theme with sparkle and convey a strong sense of the whole…such as it is.

Walton toiled over his creations with little of the ease Bowen exercised. If we’re honest, that toil produced a smallish and uneven output. But when his inspiration was hot, the results could be distinguished beyond anything of which Bowen was capable. Sometimes Walton’s inconsistency persisted in these distinguished efforts, as in a First Symphony that joins a world-beating torso with a decidedly weaker conclusion. In the Viola Concerto we have high inspiration with matching realization, a balance he never quite equaled again. Its musical depths test performers in ways that Bowen’s concerto does not. One is a masterpiece, the other isn’t.

I find Diyang Mei and company at times unequal to these depths. The Walton is essentially an introspective work with flashes of drama. More than this, it’s an integrated whole with subtle momentum that should not be allowed to flag. Mei and company often bounce along too insouciantly, especially in the middle and final movements. The latter just gets too bogged down at times, with atomized phrases and visible seams. I also find that the orchestra occasionally smudges lines and timbres. Thematic statements occasionally need to come off more sharply. In the first movement the intense, rhythmic entries of the brass and percussion behind the virtuosity of the soloist are under-delivered, obscuring the character of this important material. Mei’s playing is generally good, and there are plenty of fine moments across his performance. But the interpretation needs an overall firmer grip of the work’s spirit. 

In sum, we have something less than a qualified success and something more than a qualified failure. I’d guess that for most listeners the prospect of a so-so Walton rendition pairing is not a compelling reason to consider this very good Bowen. Things would be different if we were instead given a solid account of either the Rubbra or Arnold Viola Concertos (for example) to accompany Sir William’s own. But we weren’t, and so I’ll simply recommend this to Bowen fans (however many there are to be found) and collectors of Walton Viola Concerto performances. Everyone else’s precious time and money are better directed elsewhere.

The British Project (CD review)

Music of Elgar, Britten, Walton, and Vaughan Williams. Mirga Grazinyte-Tyla, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. DG 486 1547.

By Karl W. Nehring and John J. Puccio

The music according to Karl:

Parts of this recording were previously made available by DG in dribs and drabs as digital downloads by DG but now the entirety of The British Project featuring the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra under the baton of the young Lithuanian conductor Mirga Grazinyte-Tyla (b. 1936) is finally available on CD. Having been quite impressed by a previous recording by these same forces (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2019/07/weinberg-symphonies-nos-2-21-kaddish-cd.html), and being quite a fan of British music, I have long been looking forward to this release. So, with a Lithuanian conductor and a German label, what do we have going here?

The program opens with Sospiri (“Sighs”) by Sir Edward Elgar, a brief composition for string orchestra, harp, and organ. This is not the Elgar of Pomp and Circumstance; rather, it is music that is plaintive and emotional, yes, but in a much more introspective way than we might expect from Elgar. In any event, it is beautiful music and its somber tone sets the stage for the next work on the program, Britten’s Sinfonia da Requiem, a work for large orchestra that the liner notes aptly describe as “a musical onslaught of rage and sorrow whose dark brilliance and concentrated emotional power can still thrill and disturb us today.” I spent some time comparing this version to two other versions that are well-regarded in audiophile circles, the Previn on EMI and the Stern on Reference Recordings. I was really surprised at how different the Grazinyte-Tyla version sounds from those two, both of which seem to go out of their way to sound dramatic, with drum sounds that seem to be heralding the end of time. As much as the audiophile got a kick out of that kind of sound, I must say that the music lover in me was won over by what seems to be the more rational, better balanced approach of Grazinyte-Tyla and the DG engineers. I just found myself enjoying the music more. Not to say that the DG engineering does not sound excellent; indeed, it is clean and well-balanced. But hey, I’ll still pull out the RR or EMI CDs when I want a guilty pleasure.

As far as Walton’s Troilus and Cressida music, which actually takes up the most time on this release, I unfortunately do not have much to say, as it is music with which I am completely unfamiliar. It is interesting enough, and has some dramatic moments (the movement titled The Lovers has some beautiful passages, and the Finale generates plenty of energy), and yes, it is good to have something to audition other than the “usual suspects.” The program ends with a rendition of the Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis by Vaughan Williams that seems to begin with a bit more nervous energy than usual, but as it moves along, develops more of the calm, reflective beauty to which we are accustomed to hearing in this venerable composition, surely one of the landmarks of British music. Both the performance and the recording do a fine job of highlighting the antiphonal nature of the arrangement, helping to make this an appropriate performance to cap off an endeavor titled The British Project. 

KWN

The music according to John:

For at least the last fifty-odd years I have had a deep admiration for the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. Of course, the orchestra has been around a lot longer than that. In fact, its origins (if not its name) go back hundreds of years. But it was only in the early 1970’s that I noticed them because EMI was making some of the best-sounding records available with the orchestra under their leader at the time, Louis Fremaux. When Fremaux departed, the orchestra got Sir Simon Rattle, who produced some of the most-enthusiastic performances I have probably ever heard from him. After a few more notable leaders (Sakari Oroma, Andris Nelsons), in 2016 the Lithuanian conductor Mirga Grazinyte-Tyla became the orchestra’s newest Music Director.

Just as Rattle’s energetic ardour replaced Fremaux’s Gallic charm, so does Ms. Grazinyte-Tyla’s delicate touch supplant the bulkier styles of her predecessors. Not that she isn’t capable of generating a good deal of excitement, as several of the selections on this disc demonstrate, but it’s her more sensitive moments that linger in memory. At least that’s how I came away from this first listening to her work. It was a good first impression.

So, we have four British works on the agenda, the first being Edward Elgar’s Sospiri, an adagio for string orchestra, harp, and organ that Elgar wrote in 1914. Although it is brief, Ms. Grazinyte-Tyla makes the most of it--almost literally, as it’s the longest performance of the piece I think I’ve ever heard. To put that into perspective, Sir John Barbirolli took just over five minutes to perform it. Ms. Grazinyte-Tyla takes almost seven minutes. “Sospiri” in Italian means “sighs,” and that’s the way Ms. Grazinyte-Tyla plays it: as one, long, wistful sigh. The performance is a little different, but it’s quite a moving one, given The Great War that was about to change England and Europe forever.

Next, we have Benjamin Britten’s Sinfonia da Requiem, the centerpiece of the album. Britten wrote it in 1940 for the Japanese government to celebrate the government’s founding. However, they rejected it for its use of Latin headings for the movements and for its largely grim tone. Maybe they didn’t understand the meaning of “requiem” (a mass for the dead). Good thing, in any case, given the coming Second World War. Fortunately, it found an audience at home and has been one of Britten’s more popular pieces ever since. Here, Ms. Grazinyte-Tyla can be fairly forceful, along with being subtle and conscientious. The work offers her every opportunity to show us her expertise as a conductor, and she comes through in both tender and thrilling fashion. She pulls the music gently in all directions and delivers a mournful yet warmhearted performance.

Following Britten is William Walton’s Symphonic Suite from his opera Troilus and Cressida. The opera appeared in the mid 1950’s to mixed reviews (it wasn’t “modern” enough), but the orchestral suite we get here (created in 1988 by Walton’s collaborator Christopher Palmer) has fared a tad better. It’s filled with high drama, which Grazinyte-Tyla elaborates with an easy grace.

The program concludes with Ralph Vaughan Williams’s Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis for double string orchestra. Vaughn Williams based the central tune on a hymn by the eighteenth-century English composer Thomas Tallis, and VW premiered it 1910. It was among his early successes, and under Grazinyte-Tyla’s graceful control it gets a splendidly relaxed yet spirited and sweetly flowing interpretation.

Producer Andy Guthrie and engineers Ian Barfoot and Jamie Hickey recorded the Vaughan Williams and Elgar at Symphony Hall, Birmingham, England in November 2020 and March 2021; and producer Vilius Keras and engineer Aleksandra Keriene recorded the Britten and Walton at Elbphilarmonie, Hamburg, Germany in October 2019. The sound is quite good. Not quite in the same league as the old EMI/Fremaux recordings for ultimate clarity and impact but smooth, natural, and ultimately realistic, nevertheless. DG has always been good with dynamic range, and the engineers demonstrate their skills with the softest to loudest passages. The disc makes a pleasurable listen.

JJP

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

British Solo Cello Music (CD review)

Benjamin Britten (1913-1976): Tema ‘Sacher’; Cello Suite No. 3; (Themes used in the Cello Suite - Mournful Song; Autumn; Street Song; Kontakion); Sir William Walton (1902-1983): Theme for a Prince; Passacaglia; John Gardiner (1917-2011): Coranto Pizzicato; Frank Merrick (1886-1981): Suite in the Eighteenth-Century Style; Thomas Adés (b. 1971): Sola. Steven Isserlis, cello; Mishka Rushdie Momen, piano. Hyperion CDA68373.

By Karl W. Nehring

Cellist Steven Isserlis (b. 1958) is a major figure on the British music scene, something like Yo-Yo Ma in the United States. His gregarious personality and sparkling with make him an interesting person to follow on Twitter. It is of course it is his virtuosity on the cello that primarily interests us here, although his talent as a writer also enhances this release, for he has written the liner notes, which are both informative and entertaining. Even his hair contributes to the production, adding an intriguing visual image to the front cover of the CD.

The program opens with two compositions by that giant of 20th-century British music, Benjamin Britten. The brief (1:37) Tema ‘Sacher’, a bold, energetic musical statement based on the letters of his teacher Sacher’s name in musical notation, written as a musical gift in honor of Sacher’s 70th birthday in 1976. Other composers who contributed works in this vein included Dutilleux, Lutoslawski, Holliger, Henze, Berio, and Boulez. Then comes his Cello Suite No. 3, a substantial work ranging over 13 movements and lasting 23 minutes in Isserlis’s rendition. The music is passionate, at times troubled, very expressive and moving. Isserlis’s liner notes tell of a connection with Britten’s concern for the plight of his friend Shostakovich having an influence on the music. In any event, this is serious music that rewards serious listening. Following on the heels of the solo cello suite, Isserlis lightens the mood by adding the sound of Ms. Momen’s piano to that of his cello as they play three brief themes that served as a basis for the suite. Isserlis then returns to his solo cello to play Britten’s adaptation of Kontakion, a Russian Orthodox chant that was the fourth underlying theme of the suite (the liner notes go into more detail on these themes and how Britten used them).   

Walton’s brief (1:28) Theme for a Prince was written as part of a collection of 14 pieces composed in 1969 to honor Prince Charles’s 19th birthday. The more substantial Passacaglia was written for the great Russian cellist Mtsislav Rostropovich (1927-2007). Interestingly enough, Isserlis reveals in his liner notes that when he heard Rostropovich play it in 1982, the piece did not make much of an impression on him, nor did he think much of it when he received a copy of the score some time later. Only recently did he come to appreciate the piece, and thus came to record it. It is something of a rugged-sounding piece, rough and ready if you will, but earnest and direct.

After the earnestness of the Walton piece, the playfulness of the Gardiner Coranto pizzicato, which Isserlis opines “is evidently inspired by Elizabethan lute music,” is a nice change of pace. Isserlis does some lively plucking; both his playing and his liner note anecdotes regarding Gardiner reveal that Isserlis is in especially high spirits when it comes to this particular piece. I will confess that I had never heard of the next composer on the program, Fran Merrick, before encountering this CD, but Isserlis spins quite a tale of tale of meeting the composer when the cellist was still just a boy. Merrick’s Suite in the Eighteenth-Century Style is the longest composition on this CD, stretching out to nearly 34 minutes. It is something of a tribute to the music of Bach; as a matter of fact, I recently spent some time enjoying the Bach Cello Suites as performed by the late Janos Starker on a Mercury Living Presence 2-CD set, and listening to the Merrick Suite feels like a natural follow-up, which is high praise indeed. The program ends with a brief (2:11) piece by contemporary composer Thomas Adés. Isserlis notes that the composer wrote it on one Saturday night and faxed it to a cellist friend. To these ears, the back story is more interesting that the music, which is listenable but not much more.

Overall, this is a rewarding release. The liner notes really are fascinating, with personal anecdotes and insights about the composers and the music that really add to the album. The sound quality is balanced and natural, highlighting the expressive range of Isserlis’s “Marquis de Corberon” Stradivarius of 1726, which he has on loan from the Royal Academy of Music. It is a beautiful instrument, beautifully played. Bravo!

KWN

British Music for Viola and Orchestra (CD review)

by Karl Nehring

Vaughan Williams: Suite for Viola and Orchestra (Group 1); Howells: Elegy; Walton: Viola Concerto; Bowen: Viola Concerto. Helen Callus, viola; string quartet comprising Mesa-Matti Leppanen and David Gilling, violin; Vyvyan Yendoll, viola; David Chickering, cello (principal players of NZSO); Marc Taddei, New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Naxos 8.573876

Viola players sometimes lament not having available to them nearly the noteworthy repertoire that composers have heaped upon their colleagues who play the violin or cello. British-born violist Helen Callus, currently a Professor of Viola at Northwestern University, is a virtuosa of that instrument whose playing on this CD should go far to enhance the reputation of the viola and demonstrate that there is some excellent if underappreciated viola repertoire that deserves wider hearing. This is a gorgeous disc from start to its finish more than 78 minutes later.

The program opens with music by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958), who wrote some truly memorable music spotlighting the viola, such as Flos Campi (well worth seeking out if you have not yet heard it). The music on this disc consists of the first three movements of his eight-movement Suite for Viola and Orchestra (1934). The opening Prelude features a fairly simple tune with the viola leading out, accompanied mainly by strings, with some nice writing for flute as the music wends it way though just over three minutes. The second movement, Carol, is slower and more pensive in temperament. The winds make an appearance to accompany the viola early on, with the flute stepping up toward the end to intertwine melodically with Callus's viola before the brief two minutes wind down to a quiet ending. The final Christmas Dance is even shorter, but features a boisterous dance tune that makes for a jolly, upbeat ending to the brief but entertaining set. 

Next up is a piece by Herbert Howells (1892-1983) that probably few music lovers have ever encountered, his Elegy (1917) for viola, string quartet, and string orchestra. Callus opens the music with a solo, mournful in mood – as you would expect for an elegy – and is then joined by the orchestral strings. She takes another wistful solo later, and then there is some more mournful music from the quartet before being rejoined by the fuller complement of strings. Some restless churning passages underpinned by the lower strings are then joined by the viola, with the quartet then following. The orchestra comes in very softly, Callus's viola sounds floating over them, as Elegy winds down to a thoughtful, quiet ending. Such a wonderful discovery it is to encounter music of such serene sublimity!

Helen Callus

Following Howells in order of birth is William Walton (1902-1983), a prolific British composer whose Viola Concerto was first composed in 1928-1929, revised in 1936-37, then revised yet again in 1961. Walton targeted the piece for viola virtuoso Lionel Tertis, who declined to play it because it sounded "too modern" for his sensibilities. None other than the composer Paul Hindemith (also a violist) then took up the score and gave the premier performance in 1929. Incidentally, Hindemith's own composition Der Schwanendreher (1935) for viola and orchestra stands today as one of the staples of the repertoire for violists. As played so persuasively by Callus and the NZSO under the direction of Maestro Taddei, it is hard to imagine this music being too modern for the sensibilities of all but the most hidebound listener today. As the slow opening unfolds, the sound of Callus's viola floats above the accompaniment of the orchestra. Continuing on, moments of energy are counterbalanced by moments of quiet introspection, with the sound of the viola at times being augmented by the woodwinds. Toward the end, the viola is joined by a violin, then a flute, until the movement ends with the sound of the viola. The second movement is more spirited and energetic, with more input from the brass section of the orchestra. Callus plays in the higher registers at first, later shifting downward and projecting a restless feeling, the music being punctuated by brass and drums. The third movement begins with something of a marchlike sound and cadence, morphing into more a dance-like feeling. As the movement continues, the musical energy ebbs and flows. Enthusiasm and reflection have their turns, ultimately winding down though some passages of deep tenderness, the piece ending in peaceful repose.

Some time ago I received a Tweet from noted Chicago-area violist Michael Hall suggesting that I might want to give a listen to the Viola Concerto of York Bowen (1884-1961), a composer who was entirely unknown to me. I did a quick search on my phone and found a version that I did a cursory listen to (it was one of those evenings when I had three or four things going on at once so I was not able to focus on the music). Because I had never heard of York Bowen, I assumed that he must be some contemporary composer, and for whatever reason got the idea he was from Australia. I decided I would like to listen to his concerto more seriously sometime but never quite got around to it. When I recently discovered a bag containing a few CDs I had purchased a long while back, you can imagine my pleasant surprise when I found that included, of all things, the Bowen piece. A further surprise was my discovery that rather than being a contemporary Australian composer, he was a British composer who was born in the 19th century (missed it by THAAT much)! 

At any rate, his Viola Concerto, which he completed in 1907, was also written for Lionel Tertis, who apparently found it more to his liking than the Walton, for he gave the piece its premier performance in 1908. A century later, Ms. Callus has given us a stirring performance that has been expertly recorded so that we can enjoy this beautiful, melodic music at our leisure. The first movement opens briskly, with the viola spinning rhapsodic strings of sound that are supplemented by other section of the orchestra as the movement unfolds. The opening theme is echoed later in the movement, which comes to an end with a lively flourish. The middle movement opens with the strings, then the winds, and then the viola makes its presence known. The mood is more serious and resolute, but melody still prevails, the movement ending with Callus playing most tenderly and tranquilly. The third and final movement is more swift and rhythmic. After an exuberant orchestral section that comes to a big climax, Callus spins out an extended solo that feels like a cadenza. The orchestra then returns, the viola picks up the energy, and the concerto comes to an end with a big, exuberant chord. Bravo and Brava!

The sound quality is excellent throughout, with a good sense of depth, no sense of harshness or glare, and a neutral tonal balance. There is not much low bass, but that is a function of the music, not the engineering. At more than 78 minutes in length, this CD offers wonderful value and I recommend it highly to those who love that beautiful British sound. Helen Callus is certainly not a violist who did not practice hard enough – she is a top-tier virtuosa of a wondrous instrument. All hail the mighty viola!

Rule Britannia: Last Night of the Proms (CD review)

Paul Daniel, English Northern Philharmonia and Leeds Festival Chorus. Naxos 8.553981.

The Naxos disclaimer reads, "This is a recording of music performed frequently at the Last Night of the Proms, but not of the event itself." Just so you don't think you're getting an actual live Royal Albert Hall performance as traditionally recorded by other labels.

Nevertheless, the music is thoroughly English in spirit, and the disc represents a good value in popular chauvinistic English music. The program starts with Walton's "Crown Imperial," then goes on to what is practically England's second national anthem, "Jerusalem." It continues with the centerpiece of the collection, Sir Henry Wood's "Fantasia on British Sea Songs"; and it concludes with Elgar's "Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1."

Paul Daniel

In between these works are other pieces by Elgar, Arnold, Parry, and Walton. Maestro Paul Daniel, the English Northern Philharmonia, and the Leeds Festival Chorus play the music with great enthusiasm, if not in so grand a manner as those recordings by Sir Adrian Boult or Sir John Barbirolli. But the music is so stirring and patriotic, it practically makes even a non-British citizen want to stand up and cheer.

The sound Naxos provides is very wide ranging, with good transient impact and a decent depth of field. It is a little thick around the middle, though; not so transparent as the aforementioned Boult or Barbirolli performances on older EMI recordings. The bass is deep enough but not particularly well defined. Ensemble performance and overall tone are not so resplendent as the Philharmonia or London Philharmonic, either, but for the cost of the disc it is quite a reasonable compromise. For the Henry Wood medley itself the disc is worth the price.

JJP

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

Walton: Viola Concerto (SACD review)

Also, Partita for Orchestra; Sonata for String Orchestra. James Ehnes, viola; Edward Gardner, BBC Symphony Orchestra. Chandos CHSA 5210.

Welcome today a guest reviewer, Karl W. Nehring. For over 20 years Karl was the editor of "The $ensible Sound" magazine and a regular contributor to its classical review pages. I hope he'll become a regular contributor to "Classical Candor" as well, and I have asked him to give us a little background on his approach to music reviewing. This is what he had to say:

"Thanks, John, for the invitation to contribute to 'Classical Candor,' a truly enjoyable and highly reliable guide to classical music recordings. I will try my best not to diminish your achievement! I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, 'classical' especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me – point out recordings that I think I might enjoy.

For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, as of right now it comprises an Onkyo C-7030 CD player, Legacy Audio High Current preamplifier, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE speakers augmented by a Legacy Point One subwoofer." 

Sir William Walton (1902-1983) was a prolific British composer of symphonies (but only two), concerti, and film scores who seems to have been largely overshadowed by other Brits such as Vaughan Williams, Elgar, Britten, and Holst. Indeed, although I have a fair number of recordings of Walton's music in my CD collection, I must confess that I seldom play any of them – yes, when I am in the mood for some British music (which happens often), I am much more likely to play the music of Vaughan Williams, Arnold, Elgar, Britten, Holst, Finzi, Delius, et al.

Because I am such a big fan of British music, when I came across this new Chandos release at my favorite library, I dutifully plucked it from the rack, mostly curious about Walton's Viola Concerto, which I could not recall ever having heard before. Looking at the back cover, I was surprised to see that the piece was first composed in 1928-29 and then revised in 1936-37 and then yet again in 1961. Digging into the liner notes while still standing around at the library, I discovered that Walton composed the piece at the suggestion of the conductor Thomas Beecham. It was targeted for viola virtuoso Lionel Tertis, who declined to play it because it sounded too modern for his sensibilities. Interestingly enough, it was none other than the composer Paul Hindemith (also a violist) who then took up the score and gave the premier performance in 1929.

James Ehnes

Having read a little about the piece I was frankly not expecting to be all that impressed, but still, I was curious enough to check the disc out, bring it home, and fire it up. (My remarks below are based on listening to the two-channel CD layer of this Chandos SACD.)

From the opening notes, I was immediately entranced. Ehnes's viola just seems to sing above the sensitive accompaniment of the orchestra. The overall mood of the opening movement is thoughtful, but there are moments of energy counterbalanced by moments of quiet introspection, with the sound of the viola at times being augmented by the woodwinds. The second movement is more lively and energetic, with more input from the brass section of the orchestra. The third movement returns to a more thoughtful, sometimes introspective mood, ending with a satisfyingly tranquil conclusion.

The other two pieces in this program also proved to be quite satisfying. The Sonata for String Orchestra is a transcription made by Walton and Malcolm Arnold of Walton's String Quartet in A minor. It is a lyrical piece, quite enjoyable. Hearing it has made me want to track down the original quartet version.

The program closes with the Partita for Orchestra, composed in 1957 and dedicated to George Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra. As you might expect, it is a more flamboyant piece, leaping out of the gate with a burst of energy and at times producing bass sounds that will give your woofers a workout.

The sound quality of the recording is warm and clean in the Chandos tradition. Overall, then, this release is a winner both musically and sonically that should bring enjoyment to many a listener.

KWN

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

Motherland: David Aaron Carpenter (CD review)

Music of Dvorak, Bartok, Shor, and Walton. David Aaron Carpenter, viola; Vladimir Jurowski, Kazushi Ono, David Parry, London Philharmonic Orchestra. Warner Classics 0190295697693 (2-disc set).

David Aaron Carpenter is a relatively young (b. 1986) American violist who has been making a name for himself as a concert soloist these last few years. He began studying the violin when he was six and the viola when he was eleven, attending the Juilliard School, the Manhattan School of Music, Italy's Accademia Chigiana, Switzerland's International Music Academy, and the Verbier Festival Academy, studying with Pinchas Zukerman, Roberto Diaz, Seiji Ozawa, Robert Mann, Nobuko Imai, Boris Belkin, and Yuri Bashmet. By 2003 he was performing with leading orchestras and conductors throughout the world, and in 2006 he was the first Prize Winner of the Walter W. Naumburg Viola Competition.

"Motherland" is Carpenter's sixth major album and his second for Warner Classics. It's a combination of the old and the new, the familiar and the more unfamiliar. The first disc of this two-disc set begins with the old, Dvorak's Cello Concerto, although even that is somewhat new in that Carpenter plays it in an arrangement for viola. Next is Bartok's Concerto for Viola, followed by something a bit newer, Alexey Shor's Seascapes. Disc two gives us Walton's Concerto for Viola, followed by two more works by Shor. The pieces provide a healthy, varied, and attractive program.

Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote his Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 late in life, between 1894-95, his last concerto work. Yet even that is slightly different since Carpenter performs it as arranged for viola by J. Vieland and Carpenter, with accompaniment by Maestro Kazushi Ono and the London Philharmonic. Aside from the novelty of hearing the cello part played by a viola (which takes a moment or two to get used to because you don't get as sonorous or mellow a sound), the performance appears good but not extraordinary. It's well prepared and well executed, but I found it a trifle routine. And in the slow movement the viola doesn't quite convey the kind of melancholy a cello can impart. Still, the combination of Carpenter's enthusiasm, the viola's vibrant, youthful tone, and the excellence of the orchestra make it worth one's time.

David Aaron Carpenter

Next, we get the Concerto for Viola and Orchestra, Sz.120 by Hungarian composer Bela Bartok (1881-1945). Like the Dvorak, the Bartok piece was among the last things the composer wrote. But even this piece is slightly different because Bartok never actually finished it himself, the completion done by Bartok's student, Tibor Serly, in 1949, several years after the composer's death. Maestro Vladimir Jurowski and the London Philharmonic accompany Carpenter in the music, which comes off nicely. Carpenter seems in his element here, especially in the instrumental virtuosity he's able to pull off so effortlessly. (That finale with its energetic Hungarian themes is a gymnastic tour de force, with Jurowski and his players keeping up well.)

Disc one ends with a short piece in four parts called Seascapes by Ukrainian-born composer Alexey Shor (b. 1970), who now resides in the U.S. Here, Maestro David Parry and the London Philharmonic accompany Carpenter. Although it may be a modern work, it doesn't sound like one. It's filled with dancing melodies and lively, mostly cheerful tunes. Carpenter's treatment of it makes for a delightful listen.

Disc two contains only three works, one by English composer Sir William Walton (1902-1983) and two more by Alexey Shor. The Walton piece is his Concerto for Viola and Orchestra, written in 1929. The Shor pieces are the brief Two Songs for My Children and the lengthy Well Tempered Chanson. Jurowski leads the London Phil accompanying the Walton piece, and Parry again conducts the orchestra in the Shor works. As on disc one, Carpenter displays a command of the music as well as of the viola. The musical lines are always clear and clean, as well as the performer's conviction.

Overall, I'm not sure Carpenter shows us anything new, but it's good to know there are accomplished musicians ready to assume the mantle of an older generation.

Producer Andrew Walton and engineer Deborah Spanton recorded the music at Saint Augustine's, Kilburn and Lyndhurst Hall, Air Studios, London, England in 2017. As with many of the recordings made in Lyndhurst Hall, especially, the sense of orchestral depth is quite good, adding to the overall realism of the sound. There are also good dynamics and a moderately wide frequency response. Transparency is more than adequate, and the extremes of bass and treble seem reasonably well extended. In other words, we have fairly lifelike sound, making the set a pleasure to listen to.

JJP

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

Sea Sketches: Music of Walters, Walton, Williams, and Warlock (CD review)

Roy Goodman, Manitoba Chamber Orchestra. CBC Records SMCD 5227.

This album of English string music seems well titled, as it is the Sea Sketches by Grace Williams that contain among the most memorable tunes on the disc.

Ms. Williams (1906-1977), probably best known as the first female Welsh composer of distinction, created in the Sea Sketches a series of five descriptive movements that may remind some listeners of Claude Debussy's La Mer or Frank Bridge's The Sea, if not in actual substance at least in mood. The Sea Sketches comprise individual tone poems labeled "High Wind," "Sailing Song," "Channel Sirens," "Breakers," and "Calm Sea in Summer," each of them highly evocative. My favorite is "Channel Sirens," in which one can hear the sounds of the sea nymphs singing in the instruments. It's all quite charming under the guidance of Roy Goodman and the Manitoba Chamber Orchestra, an ensemble small enough and light enough to give the music the intimacy and transparency it needs.

Roy Goodman

Not that the other works on the disc are in any way negligible, but like any collection of similar material, in this case short string pieces in the English pastoral mode, things can begin sounding alike after a short while. Anyway, the other compositions include the Divertimento for Strings by Gareth Walters; the Serenade for Strings by Peter Warlock; and Two Pieces for Strings from the film Henry V and the Sonata for Strings, both by Sir William Walton.

It's all quite lovely, personally chosen for inclusion in this collection by their conductor, Roy Goodman, probably better recognized for his period-instruments recording with the Hanover Band but here, as I say, doing a fine job with the Manitoba players.

I wish I could wax as enthusiastically about the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation's sound as I can about the performances. Unfortunately, the recording, originally released in 2000, seems to me fairly ordinary by today's best standards. The audio is in no way poor, mind you, but it doesn't exactly jump out at one as sounding particularly live; unless you play it softly and pretend you're sitting in an auditorium at a moderate distance from the players. In any case, the sound displays a good left-to-right stereo spread, a decent illusion of depth, but an overall soft and slightly veiled presence. Perhaps it suits the relaxed nature of the music.

JJP

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

Walton: Facade (HQCD review)

Also, Lecocq:  Mam'zelle Angot. Anatole Fistoulari, Royal Opera House Orchestra, Covent Garden. HDTT HQCD152.

Facade was one of the early works of composer William Walton (1902-1983) and one that helped establish his career. Written in 1922 and first performed in 1923, Facade is Walton's musical adaptation of a series of humorous poems by Edith Sitwell, which he first composed for instrumental accompaniment to the poems, then arranged for orchestra alone (in two suites, 1926), and still later used in a pair of short ballets (1929 and 1931). On the present disc, we get the orchestral suites combined. It seems a little ironic that a composer best known today for the old-fashioned romanticism of his marches, symphonies, and choral works should have begun with the reputation of a jokester.

Conductor Anatole Fistoulari presents these eleven musical numbers with wit and sparkle. The items are quite a lot of fun and range from subtle satire to outright burlesque, with plenty of zip and pizzazz to the performances. A set of these items from Louis Fremaux and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra appeared in the late 1970's and might be Fistoulari's closest competition, yet even those recordings can't match Fistoulari in terms of enthusiasm, verve, exuberance, or audio refinement.

Coupled with Facade is Mam'zelle Angot, another ballet, this one produced in 1943 and based on an 1872 operetta by Alexandre Charles Lecocq (1832-1918). Here, Fistoulari offers a seven-movement suite from the ballet, which, while it doesn't have the bounce or invention of the Walton pieces, is still charming in its own way, with some of the style of Adophe Adam and even Jacques Offenbach. And with Fistoulari's uncommon zest, the music makes for delightful lightweight entertainment.

Recorded by Decca in September of 1957 at Watford Town Hall, London, the sound is crisp and clean and remarkably quiet (thanks to a bit of noise reduction) in this HDTT transfer. You'll recall that the folks at HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers) do some remarkable work transferring the sound from older, commercially available tapes to compact disc or download. In this instance, they surpass themselves with a transfer burnt to an HQCD in reference-quality audio. The disc displays an excellent high-end range and extension; strong, deep bass; and exemplary midrange transparency. Additionally, one notices a modest degree of orchestra depth and superb transient response, very quick, with sometimes extraordinary impact. Despite the age of the recording, the sonics are extremely good and easily surpass probably ninety percent of what most record companies make today.

About the only quibble one could make about the HDTT disc is the short playing time, about forty-five minutes total. However, this is not the fault of HDTT, who simply transferred the original album to disc. It was a short program to being with, and HDTT try to keep things as close to the original source as possible. Besides, this should not be a concern to the music lover since the performances are so good, nor to the audiophile since the sound is so good. It's a win-win argument all the way around.

JJP