Recent Releases, No. 11 (CD Mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Brahms: Symphony No. 3; Serenade No. 2. Iván Fischer, Budapest Festival Orchestra. Channel Classics CCS SA 43821.

I will say at the outset that this is a truly fine recording and performance of the Brahms symphony and serenade; seriously, if you read any further, you may be left scratching your head and wondering what the heck my problem is. Believe me, good reader, the problem is mine, not yours, nor Channel Classics, nor Maestro Fischer’s (who with the same orchestra has made some dynamite Mahler recordings). In an event, I have rarely been able to find recordings of Brahms symphonies with which I am truly satisfied (that list – a rather short one indeed – consists of Klemperer in No. 1, Karajan and Walter in No. 3, and Walter and Stokowski in No. 4). The engineering on this new Channel release is superior to either of my two favorites (I listened to the stereo CD layer of this SACD disc, which also contains a 5.0 surround mix for those so inclined and equipped). (As far as the Serenade No. 2, I will withhold any comment, for this is music I have tried repeatedly over the years to develop any sort of feeling for without any success.) Although the Budapest Festival Orchestra sounds splendid on this recording, what holds me back from giving it my own enthusiastic recommendation is a certain feeling of squareness, of liveliness, of spontaneity. For my taste at least, Fischer just seems too earthbound. All the notes are there, but he does not quite make them sing or dance or come completely to life. But in my experience, very few conductors do, and again, the sound quality is excellent, so this release is certainly well worth an audition by Brahmsians more broadminded than I.

Glass-Sandresky: Strange Energies. Sandresky: Flowing Water Encounters Obstacles; Nor'easter; What's Left; Fear; Force; Waves; Laughter. Glass: Etudes Nos. 2, 9, 12, 16.      
Eleonor Sandresky, piano. Orange Mountain Music OMM 7019.

Eleonor Sandresky is a pianist who has worked closely with composer Philip Glass for than three decades and has often performed with the Philip Glass Ensemble. Her works for the piano as presented on this recording, however, do not sound like warmed-over Glass. They are more expressive, more varied in style and mood. On her website, Sandresky says of this music that “I began composing these pieces back in 2012 as a way to try to capture various properties of sound: how it dies away, how it travels, where I feel it in my body, etc. With each of these pieces, I have tried to explore a different set of parameters for the performer and the audience. These are as much etudes for the audience to listen with specific intention as they are for the pianist!” Although the music of Glass that concludes the album by comparison seems more buttoned-down emotionally, the piano music of Glass can be fascinating, even spellbinding, and Sandresky does a fine job of drawing out the “strange energies” that lie below the surface of what can come across as shallow and repetitive music. This CD was one of those library finds that I hesitated to audition, having never having heard of Sandresky, but in the end I was glad I took the chance. If you are a fan of piano music, I invite you to do the same.

Reflections. Vikingur Ólafsson, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 00289 483 9222.
 

This new album from Icelandic pianist Vikingur Ólafsson is something of a follow-up to an album that we reviewed last year (that review can be found here). This time around, however, what we have is not a straightforward recital by Ólafsson of music by Debussy and Rameau, but rather some cuts featuring Ólafsson on the piano along with a variety of other musicians and sonorities. Ólafsson says of his aims in putting this project together: "I wanted to explore certain works from fresh perspectives, to reimagine them and invite other composers to rework elements of these extraordinary pieces... In addition to my own new recordings and material, this album features wonderful artists from different directions who have used my recordings from the Debussy-Rameau album as material for their own highly original works. They have opened my ears to new, fascinating paths and for that I am immensely grateful." Those new paths and sounds include the use of some electronic manipulation of sounds, synthesizers, guitars, percussion - this might sound quite daunting, but overall, the sounds produced are quite tasteful. The most jarring sound to my ears was the inclusion of a human voice on one cut. The sound of the voice was not in itself jarring, it was just unexpected on what is otherwise an instrumental album. Still, the best cuts on the albums were those featuring Ólafsson on the piano, of which fortunately there are quite a few, the most amazing of which is Track 8, titled Reflection, which is an improvisation on Debussy's Bruyères, the piece with which Ólafsson also opens and closes the album. The only fly in the ointment is the recorded sound, as some of the Ólafsson tracks were apparently recorded during pandemic lockdown under less than ideal circumstances and there are some extraneous noises that some listeners might find an unwelcome distraction. The other tracks are just fine. All in all, Reflections is a fascinating and imaginative release.

The Tower and the Garden: Toivo Tulev: A child said, what is the grass?; Gregory Spears: The Tower and the Garden; Joel Puckett: I enter the earth; Donald Nally, The Crossing. Navona NV6303.

The Crossing is a professional chamber choir that specializes in new music. They have made a number of recordings and picked up Grammy Awards for Best Choral Performance of 2018 for their recording of The Fifth Century by Gavin Bryars and 2019 for their recording of Zealot Chronicles by Lansing McCloskey. The three compositions on The Tower and the Garden each have a different overall sonority and sonic signature to them; ideally, that means listeners will be bound to find a sound they really like (reminiscent of the old Jimmy Dean restaurant television commercials – remember them? – “we’ll treat you so many ways you’re bound to like one of ‘em!). First up is A child said, what is the grass? by Estonian composer Toivo Tulev (b. 1958), which features some relatively mild dissonances but not to the point of annoyance. Next up is the title piece, The Tower and the Garden by American composer Gregory Spears (b. 1977), which consists of four movements. On this piece, the sound of the choir is augmented by the sound of a string quartet, producing a rich sonic rich tapestry. For the final composition, I enter the earth by American composer Joel Puckett (b. 1977), The Crossing produce some truly enticing harmonies, leaving the listener with a sense of serenity and inspiration.

KWN

R. Strauss: Ein Heldenleben (CD review)

Also, Burleske. Bertrand Chamayou, piano; Antonio Pappano, Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia. Warner Classics 190295028459.

By John J. Puccio

Richard Strauss (1864-1949), the German composer and conductor of so many lengthy symphonic tone poems wrote Ein Heldenleben (“A Hero’s Life”) in 1898 or thereabouts as a tongue-in-cheek autobiography, a semi-serious portrait of himself. Strauss was only thirty-four years old at the time, so you can see what self-confidence he must have had by writing so whimsical a life story at so early an age. He seems to have written it primarily, though, to get in a few digs at his critics, whom he convincingly silences through the music. Antonio Pappano and the Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia give it their all in a big, robustly imposing live performance.

Strauss divided Ein Heldenleben into seven parts that describe seven stages in the artist’s life. The first segment, “The Hero,” obviously describes Strauss himself and does so on a large, swashbuckling scale. Here, the music is dashing and needs to be presented with plenty of panache. Next, the music turns to “The Hero’s Adversaries,” his critics, where we hear them squabbling among themselves in amusing fashion, their trivialities, to be sure, yet their possibly sinister nature as well. Following that is “The Hero’s Companion,” his wife, whom the violinist sweetly defines in solo. Then in the ensuing “Love Scene” we find not only a loving, harmonious wife but an apparently complex one.

Maestro Pappano takes the big sections, like the opening, in a grand, full-blooded manner. It loses subtlety but makes up for it in grandeur. The Hero’s wife, played by solo violin, is nicely done, with fine inflection and feeling. While I’d like to single out this solo violinist, the booklet notes don’t indicate who it is. I will assume it was the concertmaster, Roberto Gonzalez-Monjas. Well done, sir.

“The Hero’s Battlefield” is the centerpiece of the work, where Strauss engages in all-out war with his critics, reminding them (musically) of his accomplishments with bits from his own Don Juan and Also sprach Zarathustra, as well as a few horns from Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony. It’s music filled with urgency and excitement but should not be hectic or bombastic. Here, I would have liked more impetus, even more energy from Pappano. Still, the recording makes up for any lack of muscularity in the performance with plenty of bite and impact in the sound.

“The Hero’s Works of Peace” is another slow movement, again a remembrance of the composer’s previous tone poems as an almost-final rebuke of his foes. After that, the work closes with “The Hero’s Retirement from the World and His Fulfillment,” the longest movement, a concluding note of possible contentment and repose for a life of art well spent. Remember, this is coming from a fellow who at the time was relatively young, so Strauss no doubt meant it more than a bit ironically, maybe sarcastically. I liked these final sections in Maestro Pappano’s hands more than I did his treatment of the first parts. He seems more in the spirit of the proceedings as things go along.

Coupled with Heldenleben Maestro Pappano has chosen another Strauss work, the shorter Burleske in D minor for piano and orchestra (1885-86), with pianist Bertrand Chamayou. It’s an early work, written by Strauss when he was twenty-one. Originally, Strauss had written it for pianist and conductor Hans von Bulow, who thought it a “complicated piece of nonsense,” with an unplayable piano part, and refused to perform it. Well, the title translates into “farce” or “mockery,” so what did he expect? It eventually became one of Strauss’s personal favorite works. Chamayou handles the solo piano with appropriate flair, and Pappano’s accompaniment follows in a like manner. The music is fun, and Chamayou and Pappano seem to be enjoying themselves.

Producer and engineer Giacomo De Caterini recorded Ein Heldenleben live at the Auditorium Parco della musica, Rome in January 2018 and Burleske in October 2020. Because the engineer recorded Heldenleben live, it’s rather close-up and without much orchestral depth. It also appears slightly dull for some reason. There are, however, compensating dynamic and frequency ranges of strength and width that help Strauss’s heroic music come alive. The Burleske comes off much better sonically. It sounds more robust and a little more dimensional.

JJP

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

Recent Releases, No. 10 (CD Mini-Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Rachmaninoff: Symphony No. 1; Symphonic Dances. Yannick Nézet-Séguin, The Philadelphia Orchestra. Deutsche Grammophon 483 9839.

One of the pleasures of following Classical Candor is reading reviews by fellow reviewers John Puccio and Bill Heck not only to enjoy their insights and recommendations about various recordings but also to delight in their deft and descriptive deployment of the English language. They always seem to find just the right words with which to craft their insightful and delightful prose. In sad contrast to those distinguished gentlemen, after listening to this new recording numerous times all I can say is that the music, the performances, and the and the engineering are all totally kickass. Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 1 suffered a disastrous first public performance in 1897 by an ill-prepared orchestra conducted badly by an apparently drunken Alexander Glazunov. The resultant fiasco and humiliating press coverage so unnerved Rachmaninoff that he suffered a nervous breakdown that stifled his creative energy for three years. But in this recording we have the “Fabulous Philadelphians” at the height of their powers under the baton of a conductor in full possession of his faculties; together, they make a persuasive case indeed for this oft-overlooked symphony, a work full of passion and excitement. Its disc-mate is the more widely known Symphonic Dances, a rousing piece that has long been a favorite of audiophiles. Old-timers may remember the old Donald Johanos/Dallas Symphony recording, one that seemed exciting at the time, especially in light of its being on a budget label, but in retrospect was maybe not really all that great (the low price may have perhaps tainted our judgment). Other audiophiles might have fond memories of the David Zinman/Baltimore Symphonic Dances on Telarc, which still sounds darned good. Whatever your preference might be, this new DG recording is right up there with the best in terms of both sonics and performance, with plenty of energy in both those dimensions (and with, yes, Telarc-worthy bass). As I said above, kickass. Enough said…     

Pat Metheny: Road to the Sun. Metheny: Four Paths of Light; Road to the Sun; Arvo Part: Fur Alina. Jason Vieaux and Pat Metheny, guitar; Los Angeles Guitar Quartet (John Dearman, Matthew Greif, William Kanengiser, Scott Tennant). Modern Recordings 538639322.

The first concert I ever took my young sons to was the Pat Metheny Group sometime back in the early 80s – may even have been the late 70s. Over the ensuing decades, Metheny has made some memorable music, never resting on his laurels or content to play his familiar tunes over and over again, always striving to create something new, pushing himself as a composer and arranger as well as a guitarist. From his earlier albums with his Pat Metheny Group (Still Life Talking and We Live Here are noteworthy examples highlighting his melodic gift, along with that of his gifted keyboard companion, the late Lyle Mays) through his ultimate album with that group, The Way Up, which is virtually a through-composed symphonic piece by Metheny that strains against the limitations of a small jazz ensemble, Metheny followers could sense that he was more than just a guitarist, he was a composer whose chosen instrument was the guitar. Then in 2020 he returned to the studio with a new group to release From This Place, a flowingly lyrical album that included some symphonic accompaniment. At 76 minutes, it was an amazing achievement, emphasizing once again Metheny’s gift for composition as well as his prowess on the guitar.

Each month, the final page of BBC Music Magazine features an interview titled “Music That Changed Me,” in which some public figure, typically someone connected with the arts, is asked about the music that has had a significant influence in the course of their life. Imagine my surprise – and joy! – when I reached the final page of the most recent issue to reach my humble abode (May 2021) and saw a photo of a smiling, curly-headed American guitarist by the name of Pat Metheny. What a wonderful surprise! The interviewees are always asked to list a few key recordings, and Metheny’s list of five pieces began with three that were not particularly surprising: “And I Love Her” by the Beatles (as a teenager he loved George Harrison’s guitar work, and later in his career he recorded the piece himself on acoustic guitar), “Seven Step to Heaven” by Miles Davis (Metheny says that his brother brought home Davis’s Four and More album and that “hearing this cut was like being hit over the head by a two-by-four, and instant life-changing moment. At the time I didn’t know anything about form and chord changes, I just heard the sound…”), and Wes Montgomery’s “If You Could See Me Now” (which Metheny says contains “the greatest guitar solo of all time, including Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page and Segovia”). His next selection was something of a surprise, Steve Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians (Metheny notes that “among the best phone calls I ever got was Steve Reich asking me to play his solo work for electric guitar, Electric Counterpoint. I’d been a fan for years: his Music for 18 Musicians changed everything – Steve had somehow captured the worldwide polar-magnetic shift from triple to duple time”). But it was his final choice that really surprised me, none other than Furtwangler’s recording of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde (“Filling in blanks, particularly in the world of written music, is an ongoing process for me. I’m lucky to live across the street from Lincoln Center in New York and I had the chance to see Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde conducted by Sir Simon Rattle at the Met. It was a life-changing experience to rival ‘Seven Steps to Heaven.’ I knew the piece because it is famous in my world as being this four-hour exploration of a minor seventh, flat five chord, of the ‘Tristan’ chord. I went three night in a row, and each night it just got better”). I really did not see that one coming…

Something else that I did not see coming was that the next recording that Metheny would release after From This Place would be his first release ever to feature his work not as a performer, but rather as a composer. The album leads off with classical guitarist Jason Vieaux performing a Metheny composition for solo guitar titled Four Paths of Light. Naturally enough, the composition comprises four parts, each possessing a depth of expression and emotion that long-time listeners of Metheny’s music will recognize; however, Vieaux’s style of playing and the sound of his guitar does come across as more traditionally classical most of the time – still, there are passages where you can really hear Metheny ringing through. The next composition is the title piece, Road to the Sun, a six-part work written for and performed by the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet (with some “guest strumming” by Metheny on a couple of the parts). This is of course a more ambitious undertaking, more complex in structure, more formal sounding, but not without phrases that make you think that yes, this sounds like something that Pat Metheny could have composed. It truly is a delightful work, one that rewards repeated listening.

The album closes with a bonus track, and once again I can honestly say that just like I never see it coming that Pat Metheny would list Furtwangler conducting Tristan and Isolde as one of his favorite recordings, neither did I ever foresee him playing an Arvo Pärt tune on one of his recordings, but Road to the Sun concludes with Metheny offering a haunting version of Pärt’s Für Alina on his custom-made 42-string guitar. My friends, hearing Pat Metheny, one of my all-time favorite musicians, play the music of Arvo Pärt, one of my all-time favorite composers, on his amazing instrument with its incredible range of sounds made me feel that my life was now complete and had not been lived entirely in vain. To be sure, this recording may not have anywhere near the same profound sort of spiritual effect on you, but still, there is some genuinely fine music here that I can recommend without reservation.       

Bonus Recommendation:

Images of Metheny. Jason Vieaux, guitar. Azica Records ACD 71233.

On this recording from 2005, classical guitarist Jason Vieaux presents 13 songs by Pat Metheny in arrangements for classical guitar, including taking five songs and arranging them into the form of a baroque suite. Unfortunately, the CD is now hard to find; it can be streamed, however, for those so inclined. 

KWN