Max Reger
(1873-1916) was a prolific composer, yet his music is not
so well known today, although the 100th anniversary year of his
death saw an influx of new recordings.
His music might be seen as backward looking, in that he was particularly
focussed on counterpoint and fugal writing, with a strong interest in Bach, and
he definitely saw himself following the direct line from Beethoven and Brahms,
rather than looking forward and embracing the innovation and radical
developments of other early 20th century composers such as
Schoenberg. Robert Oberaigner (clarinet) and Michael Schöch (piano) have recorded all his works for the two
instruments, namely three Sonatas and two short works, a Tarantella and Albumblatt. The two Sonatas,
Op. 49, written in 1900, just six years after Brahms composed his two
Sonatas, and three years after the latter’s death. Reger clearly admired Brahms, and his
influence here is strong, particularly in the lyrical slow movements. Reger has a tendency to wander a little at
times, and doesn’t always have the intense focus of Brahms’ late works, but
this is nevertheless warmly attractive music, and Oberaigner’s sweet tone is
matched well by Schöch’s flowing touch. The
opening movement of the Sonata, Op. 107,
composed eight years later, is a case in point for Reger’s wandering style, and
at over thirteen minutes, it could perhaps have had greater forward momentum in
places here. However, they give full
expression to the lyrical slow movement, and the finale has graceful
poise. The disc is finished off nicely
with the sprightly Tarantella and
the beautifully warm Albumblatt, completing
a highly satisfying survey of these
underrated works.
Neatly following on from Reger, we turn to his key
influence, Brahms, for the final
disc in Barry Douglas’ complete
survey of his Piano Works. Given his mixed programme approach to the
previous five discs, we are thankfully not left with a mopping up exercise of
obscurities, Douglas having saved gems such as the beautifully dark Intermezzo No. 6 from the Op. 118 set, and three pieces from the Op. 76 set. There are some rarities here too, though,
with some of the highly challenging Studies,
Brahms’ virtuosic arrangements of works including a Chopin Étude, a Weber Rondo
and two Bach solo violin movements, including the stunning arrangement for the
left hand of the mammoth Ciaccona
from Partita No. 2. Douglas gives the
darkly intense works such as the Op. 118
Intermezzo and the Op. 76 pieces
the right balance of weight, delicacy and brilliance where required,
particularly in the C major Capriccio. Then he shows sheer dazzling virtuosity in
the lightening Weber Rondo, and the added complications Brahms brings to the
Chopin Étude, not to mention the respectful yet impressive Bach arrangements,
particularly the Ciaccona. The selection
of Hungarian Dances, in Brahms’ solo
piano version (originally he wrote them for four hands) provide great colour,
and Douglas is full of life here. A
perfect conclusion to the series, this final recording exemplifies the variety
in Brahms’ piano music that may be unexpected to some, as well as demonstrating
the broad range of Douglas’ playing. A
benchmark set if ever there was one.
Canadian conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin is not far from the end of a complete cycle of
Bruckner Symphonies with his latest live
recording of the Symphony No. 2,
with the Montreal-based Orchestre Métropolitain. As ever with Bruckner, there are the revision
issues, but the version here is the relatively standard edition made in 1938 by
Robert Haas, combining Bruckner’s 1877 version with features from previous
versions. The second is not the most
exciting of Bruckner’s symphonies, but it has a youthful energy, and avoids some
of the overblown excesses to which Bruckner can be prone. The opening movement begins as if out of
nowhere, and Nézet-Séguin launches his players in with immediate energetic
impetus, which sets the right tone for the rather stop-start opening movement,
contrasting the moments of lighter repose with a sense of forward urgency. With Bruckner, a sense of the overall
architecture is always important, and here, there is a good sense of onward
progress. The slow movement has plenty
of scope for the woodwind and horns to demonstrate their skills with frequent
solo passages, all performed with great control here. Nézet-Séguin manages the ebb and flow of the
music, which often threatens a mammoth climax, but pulls back to stillness and
calm. The bombastic scherzo is suitably
driven, and the dramatic finale, with its twists and turns, builds to a
triumphant conclusion, with an emphatic contribution from the brass on this powerful
live recording.
(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, January 2017)