Jul 28, 2021

Recent Releases, No. 13 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Muhly & Glass: First Light. Muhly: Shrink (Concerto for Violin and Strings); Glass: The Orchard (from The Screens); String Quartet No. 3, “Mishima” (arr, for string orchestra by Pekka Kuusisto). Nico Muhly, piano; Pekka Kuusisto, violin and director, Norwegian Chamber Orchestra. Pentatone PTC 5186 745.

This is a recording that features a considerable degree of both musical and performative intertwining. The relatively young American composer Nico Muhly (b. 1981), the veteran American composer Philip Glass (b.1937) composer, and Finnish violinist and conductor Pekka Kuusisto (b.1976) are all linked closely together. As Kuusisto explains, “my consort with Nico Muhly began around 2010… I had previously become aware of his reputation as a creator and with an extraordinary touch, and was really excited to work with him. Thew experience was inspiring, moving and joyous, and we’ve enjoyed a steady flow of adventures since. The arrival of Shrink in late 2019 was the culmination of this decade of music and mischief… Philip Glass had been present in our interactions since the beginning. He and Nico go way back as colleagues… Against this background, coupling Shrink with a new arrangement of Philip Glass’ Mishima quartet seems appropriate… The pandemic-era, long-distance recording of Philip Glass’ The Orchard is an expression of gratitude to Philip on behalf of myself and Nico, and to the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra for their stellar work with us.” Although Muhly and Glass were colleagues, their music is markedly different in character, which leads to a recording with something of a split personality. Muhly’s Shrink is an energetic, driven concerto, played with intensity by Kuusisto on violin. Although not dissonant in character, it is not a piece that lingers over lilting melodies. Then comes Glass’s The Orchard, performed here as a duet for piano and violin, and the mood completely changes, becoming soothing and almost therapeutic. Following the frenetic forward motion of Shrink, to arrive in such a pleasant, peaceful, musical grove is a refreshing respite. The arrangement for string orchestra of Glass’s String Quartet No. 3, “Mishima” that closes the program adds some weight and texture to Glass’s minimalist creation. With excellent engineering and informative liner notes, this is a solid release of contemporary music from Pentatone.
 
Robert Ames: Change Ringing. Peal; Change Ringing; Tympanum; Dispersion; Cinque; Rounds. Modern Recordings LC95306.

Robert Ames (b. 1985) is the co-founder and co-conductor of the London Contemporary Orchestra, where he has worked to bridge the perceived gap between the classical tradition and contemporary music, working with musicians such as Frank Ocean, Jonny Greenwood, Jonsi (of Sigur Ros), Steve Reich, Terry Riley, and Philip Glass. He produced and recorded Change Ringing in his studio using both modern electronic techniques and western traditional annotation, forming layers of audio and written music that he manipulated and transformed into  a sound symphonic in scope, sounding like an amalgam of electronic and symphonic music. According to Ames, “most of the album was written and recorded between April and May 2019 in my small studio in the Peak District. I relied on sounds from my childhood. The echo of choirs and organs in large rooms, distant church bells, grand symphonic gestures crackling through an old car radio and competing with the soft hum and rumble of the wheels on the street and the cacophony of the orchestras slowly setting in. I resisted the temptation to use recognizable tempos and time signatures to convey a sense of timelessness. I like the idea that each track sounds like it's going on a never-ending journey and what's recorded is just a snapshot of something much longer.” Although there are six tracks on the album, they are similar enough in overall sound and mood that the listener can just hit PLAY and listen to the program as though it were one extended symphonic/electronic tone poem. No, this is nothing like electronic dance music (EDM) – there is no pulse or heavy beat moving things along. The music is much more nuanced than that, much more interesting and refined. At just over 34 minutes in length, the quantity of music on this release may leave something to be desired, but for those with adventurous ears, the originality and musical quality to be found in those 34 minutes will prove satisfying indeed.  

Milos: The Moon and the Forest. Jody Talbot: Ink Dark Moon; Ludovico Einaudi: Full Moon (arr. solo guitar by Michael Lewin); Howard Shore: The Forest; Robert Schumann: Traumerei (arr. solo guitar by Michael Lewin). Miloṥ Karadaglić. Guitar; Ben Gernon, BBC Symphony Orchestra; Alexander Shelley, Canada’s National Art’s Center Orchestra. Decca 485 1525.

Classical music lovers who have been longing to find a recording of concertos for guitar and orchestra they can enjoy as wholeheartedly as they have enjoyed recordings of Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez over the years now have reason to rejoice, for this new release by the Montenegro-born guitarist Miloš Karadaglić (b. 1983) should make them very happy indeed. Interestingly enough, in his liner note essay, Miloš writes, “Classical guitar is often wrongly defined by a handful of beautiful pieces. One of the most iconic is Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez. Performing this incredible concerto has taken me to some of the world’s  greatest stages  playing alongside some of the world’s leading orchestras. For many in the audience, this stunning work has been the first and only point of contact with the classical guitar. It is exactly this that inspired me to seek new ideas… I first experienced Jody Talbot’s music at Covent Garden, where his beautiful ballet scores caused a sensation. .. after just a few minutes of listening, I knew I had to meet him. We quickly became friends and, just as quickly, began work on this new concerto. Ink Dark Moon is like a perfect symphony—there is no element of delicacy or virtuosity left untouched… For many years I have been fascinated by Howard Shore’s extraordinarily imaginative soundtracks and classical compositions. The concerto for guitar and orchestra he wrote for me, titled The Forest, is magical – just like the enchanted forest he painted with his unique musical brushstrokes.” By the way, the CD booklet includes not only observations about the music by Miloš, but also some brief remarks from both Shore (b. 1946) and Talbot (b. 1971).  Talbot’s Ink Dark Moon opens quietly on the guitar, the mood of a dark moon being established at the outset. After this quiet intro, the energy level increases, but then the second movement once again lowers the energy level and conveys a sense of brooding introspection. As with most concertos, the finale picks up the energy level, bringing in some percussion to make things more boisterous and lively. The solo piece by Einaudi (b. 1955) is, as you might expect from that composer, beguilingly melodic in nature, serving as a pleasant interlude before we are swept into the magical sounds and rich textures of Shore’s The Forest. The opening movement displays a rich variety of sonic effects without ever sounding forced or artificial, while the second movement is slower, more contemplative, bringing to mind a quiet walk in the forest at twilight. The final movement returns to the more magical sounds of the opening movement, but is a bit darker in tone and texture, evoking a feeling of drama. Then the familiar melody of Schumann’s Traumerei closes out the program – has the enchanting musical program been a dream all along? As for the engineering, yes, the guitar seems a bit large, but I doubt that fans of the instrument are going to mind. All in all, this is a truly rewarding release that should bring a big smile to the faces of fans of the classical guitar  – and a whole bunch of other folks as well.

Bonus Recommendation:
Farrenc: Symphonies Nos. 2 and 3. Christoph König, Solistes Européens, Luxembourg. NAXOS 8.573706.

Once again I have had the pleasure of discovering delightful music by a composer entirely new to me; indeed, I suspect the name of French composer Louise Farrenc (1804-1875) will be new to the vast majority of those reading this review. Her output was not large: three symphonies, some overtures, some chamber works, and some piano music (she was an accomplished pianist but decided to concentrate on composition and teaching rather than performing). Judging from this recording, she was certainly a talented composer. Symphony No. 2 sounds like a hybrid of Mozart and Beethoven, with a slow introduction but then a lively first movement that does not lack for energy or inventiveness. But the real highlight for me is the third movement, a scherzo that is simply a dazzling delight. Remarkable! Symphony No. 3 likewise starts off with a slow introduction leading to an energetic opening movement, but as the symphony unfolds, it proves to be a more lyrical, more expressive, and ultimately even more impressive work than its discmate. There is an interesting – but disheartening – tale told about this work in the liner notes: “The work was relatively well-received at its premiere , and was performed in Brussels in 1847 – indeed, Farrenc’s symphony concerts usually attracted large audiences, partly because of the simple novelty of attending performances of orchestral music by a woman! However, she struggled to persuade Francois-Antoine Habeneck, conductor of the most prominent orchestral series in Paris, to perform her music. It was not until April 1849 that she succeeded in having her new Third Symphony (composed in 1847) performed by the Société dés  Concerts du Conservatoire under Habeneck’s successor, Narcisse Girard. Unfortunately, the decision was taken to programme it alongside Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, which, as even the critics noted, was unfair on the new work; this Beethoven symphony was his most popular and highly regarded work in France at the time.” Geez, Louise… But thanks to this splendid recording, modern listeners can now give these works by Ms. Farrenc an unprejudiced audition and judge for themselves regarding their musical merit. Trust me, this is a CD well worth the time and effort.

KWN

Jul 25, 2021

Brahms: Piano Concertos (CD review)

Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 2. Andras Schiff, piano; Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. ECM New Series 2690/91 - 485 5770 (2-disc set).

By John J. Puccio

Classical pianist and conductor Sir Andras Schiff (b. 1953) has been around long enough to have played just about everything, but this time it’s a little different. He plays a piano built in 1859, just a year after Brahms wrote his First Piano Concerto, and accompanying him is the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, an ensemble of period instruments that Brahms might have encountered in his own lifetime. In other words, following historically informed performance practices and using instruments original to Brahms’s day, these readings of the Brahms First and Second Piano Concertos are probably as close as possible to something Brahms would have easily recognized.

As you no doubt know, Johannes Brahms (1833-1897) composed the Piano Concerto No. 1 in 1858 while he was still a fairly young fellow in his twenties. It’s a work all craggy and monumental in scope, abounding in energy and vitality, perhaps the energy of youth, Apparently, it started out as a symphony, so maybe that explains where it went.

While the First Piano Concerto may be a youthful work, there is no excessive playfulness about it, with a healthy interplay between soloist and orchestra. I’ve heard that Brahms intended the second-movement Adagio as an elegiac tribute to his late mentor, Robert Schumann, followed by a fairly jubilant finale, a kind of spirited peasant dance with variations that sparkle.

Now, admittedly, I have a fondness for historical performances, even when they don’t reach back as many years as the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment is probably used to playing. Still, the string players use gut strings and play with an abundance of vibrato and smooth glides, and the timpani are leaner than we often hear today. What’s more, the 1859 Bluthner grand piano has a lighter, nimbler sound than a modern grand. It’s all unique and attractive, and it makes these recordings more than simply unique; it makes them worthwhile additions to anyone’s already stacked library of Brahms piano concertos.

Anyway, after a lengthy and properly regal orchestral introduction, the soloist finally arrives. Yet Schiff does so with a nimble subtlety. There is nothing grand or self-centered about his performance; he appears to be at one with the orchestra. Mr. Schiff says that the older pianos (of the nineteenth century) were “more transparent, with a more singing tone” than today’s Steinways, and he makes good use of those qualities in a transparent, singing performance. I suppose playing from the autograph manuscripts helps, too.

Brahms was in no hurry to follow up his First Piano Concerto, however. There was a gap of twenty-two years before he wrote his only other Piano Concerto, his No. 2 in B major, and it took him some four years to complete in 1881. It became an immediate success, with the composer himself as the soloist at the premiere, and he went on to perform it all over Europe. Brahms wrote the piece in four movements rather than the traditional three, so it’s a little longer than most concertos. (I’ve read that Brahms included the extra movement, a scherzo, because he thought the opening movement sounded too plain and simple.) He filled the work with so many memorable melodies that the whole thing sounds lovely, less rugged than the First Concerto, more melodious, more pastoral.

Schiff’s realization of the Second Concerto retains all of its lyrical virtues and adds a layer of unmannered authority to it. The music remains in part charmingly rustic yet patrician. Here, the vintage piano plays a key part in that it sounds both regally expansive and poetically dulcet. It makes for an attractive combination in a performance that glistens sweetly throughout.

Executive producer Manfred Eicher, production coordinators Guido Gorna and Thomas Herr, tonmeister Stephan Scheilmann, and engineer John Barrett recorded the concertos at Abbey Road Studios, London in December 2019. The sound reflects a large space, a big auditorium or concert hall, even though it’s Abbey Road Studios. Whatever, it’s a flattering acoustic, the orchestra a bit close but imposing. Most important, it sounds real. Transparency is ample but not at the expense of brightness or edginess. The frequency range and dynamics are wide without overwhelming the music (or the listener). Ambience, depth, and spatiality are all more than adequate for a lifelike presentation. It’s everything a modern recording should be.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from Concerto No. 2, click below:

Jul 21, 2021

Dvorak: Legends & From the Bohemian Forest (CD review)

Versions for Piano Four-Hands. Christophe Sirodeau and Anna Zassimova. Melism MLS-CD-027.

By Bill Heck

Reviewing yet another recording of, say, Dvorak’s 9th Symphony, the New World, is fun in its own way; sometimes one of us might uncover a real gem. But how much more enjoyable to bring lesser-known but still rewarding music to the attention of our readers! This review is solidly of the latter type.

Antonin Dvorak’s Legends are nowhere near as well-known or as oft-recorded as his late symphonies, although many classical music lovers will be familiar with the former in their orchestral forms. What many of us may not realize is that these works were originally written for piano, specifically as “four-hands” versions, meant to be played by two players on one piano – four hands in use.

But why would a composer write for two people playing one piano? The Legends were composed in 1881; From the Bohemian Forest in 1883-4. The popularity of four-hand compositions at the time was due to a confluence of factors. First, and this is something that should cause us to truly reflect on how different musical life is today, there were no recordings. While at least larger cities hosted concerts, any listening done at home was to people in the house actually playing music. Second, in the growing middle class, not to mention the upper class, some level of competence among family members playing musical instruments was a sign of culture, and a well-appointed home would have a piano. Third, large families were the order of the day. Add up these factors: several musical family members, one instrument (the piano), and a desire to hear music – and perhaps show off to the neighbors – and there you have it. (One is tempted to suppose that an excuse for musically inclined young men and women to sit close proximity without inciting waves of opprobrium might have had some influence as well.)

Of course, four-hand compositions did not start with Dvorak; they date from at least the late 18th century. For example, Mozart composed a few such works, and Schubert composed more, as did Brahms. Meanwhile, Dvorak’s earlier Slavonic Dances were originally four-hand piano compositions, although the orchestral versions are far more often heard today.

Despite the attractions of these compositions, there are limitations. First, it must be possible for the two people involved to play them successfully, which requires some limits on the range of each part. It is hard enough for a single pianist to cross one hand over the other as some compositions require; having two people with hands all over the same keyboard could be a recipe for disaster. Secondly, as the works were meant to be popular among amateur musicians, composers might take it easy and “dumb down” the works, lest those home musicians find the required techniques beyond their abilities. By no means is that always the case, but don’t expect Bach or Beethoven-like depth in this format.

So what about these works? Fortunately for us, Dvorak was really good at balancing the requirements of the form and still producing interesting and enjoyable music. I don’t suppose that many listeners would call these works profound, but they are charming and surprisingly robust (if I can use that term) in a musical sense. They certainly are not musical bon-bons, all sweetness and devoid of substance; they contain passages of drama and swagger, and Dvorak sneaks in some interesting – in a few cases almost radical – harmonies on occasion. Indeed, the Legends were substantive enough that Dvorak orchestrated them within a year or so of their original publication.

As with Sirodeau’s disk of the Brahms Intermezzi that I reviewed on this site a short time ago, Sirodeau and Zassimova do not play the compositions in chronological order. Instead, they are arranged in an order that the musicians find appealing. (The excellent liner notes for this album explain some of the reasoning behind the ordering.) There is no reason to suppose that Dvorak had a sequence in mind for these little gems, and surely he did not envision pianists playing through the entire sets at one sitting, so the ordering here should work nicely for all but the most obsessive sticklers. Similarly, modern-day listeners will not necessarily play the disk straight through as they would a symphony or sonata; this is the sort of music that one might sample from time to time. The ordering here makes this particularly easy: the repeating pattern is a piece from the Bohemian Forest followed by three Legends. Each of these sequences provides a coherent listening treat.

By this time, the attentive reader surely is asking how the artists play the music. In a word, excellently: these are seasoned musicians who obviously care about bringing forward some music that should be heard more often. And at this point in the review, I normally would toss in a few comparisons – but not this time. For one thing, there are only a small handful of disks (I found three) featuring both the Legends and Bohemian Forest in four-hand versions, and the thoughtful combination and (re)arrangement of the works found here makes this disk unique. Furthermore, if the playing were questionable in any noticeable way, I would spend more time worrying about the competition – but it’s not. That’s not to say that I ignored other recordings completely: I did a little sampling, but nowhere did I hear obviously superior playing, and the current disk has the advantage of up-to-date recording technology.

Speaking of the recording, the sound of the Melism recording is fine; clear, natural, and full range. To my ears, it falls just short of the best in terms of the “piano in the room” dynamism and naturalness; perhaps the sound is just a smidge flattened rather than fully three dimensional. But that’s a quibble, thought of only when concentrating strictly on the recorded sound.

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

Meet the Staff

Meet the Staff
John J. Puccio, Founder and Contributor

Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on the Big Jon and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.

Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing for the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.

Karl Nehring, Editor and Contributor

For nearly 30 years I was the editor of The $ensible Sound magazine and a regular contributor to both its equipment and recordings review pages. 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 they think I might enjoy.

For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises Marantz CD 6007 and Onkyo CD 7030 CD players, NAD C 658 streaming preamp/DAC, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE loudspeakers. I occasionally do some listening through pair of Sennheiser 560S headphones. I miss the excellent ELS Studio sound system in our 2016 Acura RDX (now my wife's daily driver) on which I had ripped more than a hundred favorite CDs to the hard drive, so now when driving my 2024 Honda CRV Sport L Hybrid, I stream music from my phone through its adequate but hardly outstanding factory system. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through a Roku Streambar Pro system (soundbar plus four surround speakers and a 10" sealed subwoofer) that has surprisingly nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence and reasonable price. Finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom II Bluetooth speaker and a pair of Google Pro Earbuds for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can’t imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technologies that enable us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.

William (Bill) Heck, Webmaster and Contributor

Among my early childhood memories are those of listening to my mother playing records (some even 78 rpm ones!) of both classical music and jazz tunes. I suppose that her love of music was transmitted genetically, and my interest was sustained by years of playing in rock bands – until I realized that this was no way to make a living. The interest in classical music was rekindled in grad school when the university FM station serving as background music for studying happened to play the Brahms First Symphony. As the work came to an end, it struck me forcibly that this was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and from that point on, I never looked back. This revelation was to the detriment of my studies, as I subsequently spent way too much time simply listening, but music has remained a significant part of my life. These days, although I still can tell a trumpet from a bassoon and a quarter note from a treble clef, I have to admit that I remain a nonexpert. But I do love music in general and classical music in particular, and I enjoy sharing both information and opinions about it.

The audiophile bug bit about the same time that I returned to classical music. I’ve gone through plenty of equipment, brands from Audio Research to Yamaha, and the best of it has opened new audio insights. Along the way, I reviewed components, and occasionally recordings, for The $ensible Sound magazine. Most recently I’ve moved to my “ultimate system” consisting of a BlueSound Node streamer, an ancient Toshiba multi-format disk player serving as a CD transport, Legacy Wavelet II DAC/preamp/crossover, dual Legacy PowerBloc2 amps, and Legacy Signature SE speakers (biamped), all connected with decently made, no-frills cables. With the arrival of CD and higher resolution streaming, that is now the source for most of my listening.

Ryan Ross, Contributor

I started listening to and studying classical music in earnest nearly three decades ago. This interest grew naturally out of my training as a pianist. I am now a musicologist by profession, specializing in British and other symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries. My scholarly work has been published in major music journals, as well as in other outlets. Current research focuses include twentieth-century symphonic historiography, and the music of Jean Sibelius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Malcolm Arnold.

I am honored to contribute writings to Classical Candor. In an age where the classical recording industry is being subjected to such profound pressures and changes, it is more important than ever for those of us steeped in this cultural tradition to continue to foster its love and exposure. I hope that my readers can find value, no matter how modest, in what I offer here.


Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst

I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.

Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.

Mission Statement

It is the goal of Classical Candor to promote the enjoyment of classical music. Other forms of music come and go--minuets, waltzes, ragtime, blues, jazz, bebop, country-western, rock-'n'-roll, heavy metal, rap, and the rest--but classical music has been around for hundreds of years and will continue to be around for hundreds more. It's no accident that every major city in the world has one or more symphony orchestras.

When I was young, I heard it said that only intellectuals could appreciate classical music, that it required dedicated concentration to appreciate. Nonsense. I'm no intellectual, and I've always loved classical music. Anyone who's ever seen and enjoyed Disney's Fantasia or a Looney Tunes cartoon playing Rossini's William Tell Overture or Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 can attest to the power and joy of classical music, and that's just about everybody.

So, if Classical Candor can expand one's awareness of classical music and bring more joy to one's life, more power to it. It's done its job. --John J. Puccio

Contact Information

Readers with polite, courteous, helpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@gmail.com

Readers with impolite, discourteous, bitchy, whining, complaining, nasty, mean-spirited, unhelpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@recycle.bin.

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa