Tuesday 28 February 2023

CD Reviews - February 2023

John Wilson is back with the Sinfonia of London with a great new disc to follow up on their acclaimed 2021 recording of English String Music. This time, alongside two stalwarts of the repertoire, Vaughan Williams’ (1872-1958) Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, and Elgar’s (1857-1934) Introduction & Allegro for strings, are the sorely overlooked Concerto for String Orchestra by Herbert Howells (1892-1983), and a delightful gem, Late Swallows, by Frederick Delius (1862-1934). As with previous recordings, the Sinfonia of London string sound is rich, and the Chandos recording is equally full of depth. Wilson is precise and always clear as a bell, never allowing for any wallowing in the often thick textures of these works for strings. Vaughan Williams’ Fantasia has beautiful shimmering moments, but accents are strong, almost violent in places. Tempi are driven – Wilson never hangs about, avoiding the forementioned wallowing, so this is a less relaxed performance than some, but that brings out the precision and complexity of Vaughan Williams’ layered writing all the more. Wilson and the players give full weight when needed, but also exploit the contrasts between the three groupings – string quartet, and two orchestral ensembles, small and large. Their Elgar is similarly driven, right from the strident, energetic opening, yet the viola, immediately warm in contrast, has great emotional weight. This captures a key element of Wilson’s approach, always contrasting almost clinical precision and momentum with passion and emotional impact in the right places. Some recordings of this music achieve one or the other, but rarely both. The climaxes are quick – and the cold, spiky fugue builds to a phenomenal frenzy, with a thrilling race to the finish. Late Swallows is actually an arrangement by Eric Fenby (suggested by Barbirolli) of the slow movement from his String Quartet. It perhaps lacks the drama and contrasts of the other works here, but it is full of beautifully evocative swoops and dives, given lush expression here by the Sinfonia of London strings. Howells’ orchestral works have never achieved the same level of recognition as his choral works, which is a pity, as he clearly knew how to write for orchestral forces. He set out to write his Concerto for String Orchestra as a tribute to Elgar who had recently died, but he also then suffered the loss of his own nine-year-old son, and the resulting dedication of the work was to them both. He even said of the slow movement, ‘
it was inspired by the countryside between the Malverns and the Cotswolds, and by two people – one old and one young – who knew and loved that part of England’. Yet the opening movement is strident, even harsh, with bursts of energy throughout, contrasting with a plaintive, slower central section. That central slow movement is definitely full of soulful yearning, with the passion increasing to pleading cries in places. So here, as before, Wilson delivers the emotional impact when it’s required, whilst maintaining the overall sense of direction of the work. The final movement launches off, immediately strident and angular once again, yet this is also full of contrasts, with jazzy rhythms, lighter, more plaintive moments, and urgent chords bringing things to a sudden conclusion. As with the Elgar, which clearly inspired Howells, the solo viola features strongly throughout, successfully providing a thread tying the work together. This recording is worth attention purely for the Howells, but lively and energetic readings of the Elgar & Vaughan Williams, and the Delius rarity, make this another strong release all round for Wilson and the Sinfonia of London.


The ensemble ZRI take their name from Zum Roten Igel, the 19th century Vienna coffee house that was a hub for many composers, such as Brahms and Schubert, but also many folk and gypsy musicians of the time, creating a musical melting pot of influences and ideas. Here, in  Cellar Sessions, the five-piece ensemble, consisting of clarinet (Ben Harlan), violin (Max Baillie), cello (Matthew Sharp), accordion (Jon Banks) and santouri (a member of the dulcimer family) (Iris Pissaride), have embraced this idea of melding together classical repertoire with gypsy and folk material, but bringing that up to the present day, adding contemporary pop influences such as Donna Summer, Taylor Swift and Solange into the mix. This works remarkably well, with playful, dancing works such as Tokay by George Boulanger (1893-1958), and the swinging Horă din Budești by Aurel Gore (1928-1989), both Romanian violinists and arrangers, sitting alongside the ensemble’s take on classical works. They give a gloriously mysterious rendition of Schubert’s ethereal Andante from the Piano Trio No. 3, with a wonderful santouri introduction giving a nod to his nickname as the ‘Knight of the Cimbalom’, due to his fascination for Hungarian traditional music. From this introduction, Schubert’s slow movement emerges out of a gently pulsing rhythm, with burbling clarinet and sweet violin capturing the intensity of the original, and following some improvisatory exploration by the clarinet, low cello rumblings herald the return of the haunting sadness of the santouri. The Presto from Bach’s Violin Sonata No. 1 receives the ZRI treatment too, with the clarinet swinging the cross rhythms over gentle plucking from strings, building to some great rippling flourishes from the clarinet. Donna Summer’s I Feel Love opens with a bouncing accordion, but it’s the cello that sets up the iconic driving rhythm, whilst ethereal violin harmonics take on the melodic line. This all builds to a crazy clarinet riff, before a gradual fade. Taylor Swist’s Shake it Off is combined with a klezmer melody Lebedik un Freylach by Abe Schwartz (1881-1963), from a mournfully atmospheric beginning through to a racing, dancing conclusion. Matthew Sharp even gives us an expressive, cabaret-style baritone for Jay Gorney’s (1896-1990) Brother can you spare a dime?, with a shimmering accompaniment developing into swinging jazz. Brahms makes an indirect appearance, in the form of Isteni Csárdás by Miska Borzó (1800-1864), itself no doubt drawn from an older Hungarian tune, but better known to us now from Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No. 1, here full of the tune’s wildness and virtuosic energy in ZRI’s interpretation. They end with a delicate tango, Rote Rosen by Helmut Ritter (1907-1988), full of gentle nostalgia, before fading off into the distance. Overall, an extremely clever and inventive collection of repertoire, performed with joy and spirit throughout.

 

Greek-born pianist Alexandra Papastefanou studied in Moscow, Budapest and the US, and has had lessons from Alfred Brendel. She has performed all of Bach’s keyboard works, and recorded most of them too. Here she brings us a collection of transcriptions – so we’re immediately moving beyond the issue of performing his keyboard works on a modern piano, as here we have a trio sonata, chorales and cantatas, all in her own transcriptions, apart from Myra Hess’ famous arrangement of Jesus bleibet meine Freude (‘Jesu, joy of man’s desiring’), with which she ends her recording. Along the way, there are a couple of surprises too, with Papastefanou adding her own jazzy variation on top of her transcription of the chorale Allein Gott in der Höh sei Her, calling her addition appropriately Playing (with) Bach. The bouncy repeated figures here are effective, with the increasingly clashing harmonies providing an unusual counterpoint. We also get A Tribute to Bill Evans combined with An Wasserflussen Babylon (which also gives the album its title, Tears from Babylon). Here, she draws on Evans’ Peace Piece, with her own extemporisations entwined with the chorale melody in a particularly effective way, making this in fact the disc’s highlight for me. The Trio Sonata No. 5, BWV 529’s opening Allegro is clean, bright and lively, whilst the Largo that follows is tender and expressive. Papastefanou captures these contrasts throughout the recording, with joyful spirit for Sei Lob und Preis mit Ehren, carefully bringing out the chorale melody from within the busy moving textures, whilst using a softer, more expressive tone for the Aria, Meine Seufzer, meine Tränen. The plodding bass line for Gott hat alles wohlgemacht from BWV35 works well, as does the energetic Sinfonia from BWV18. Ending with Myra Hess’ transcription is a fitting tribute to all those that have gone before, transcribing and arranging Bach’s music, and Papastefanou’s rendition of Hess’ classic is captivating. Throughout this collection, Papastefanou captures the essence of Bach’s music, whilst taking us in some new and unexpected directions too. 



Bach, J. S./Papastefanou, A. Tears from Babylon: J. S. Bach Piano Transcriptions. Alexandra Papastefanou. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR141.

Tuesday 14 February 2023

Emotionally compelling Lenau settings from Gerhaher and Huber at Wigmore Hall

Christian Gerhaher & Gerold Huber
© Wigmore Hall Trust

Christian Gerhaher
(baritone)
Gerold Huber (piano)

7.30pm, Sunday 12 February 2023

Wigmore Hall, London










Heinz Holliger (b.1939): Elis: Verkündigung des Todes, Todesangst und Gnade, Himmelfahrt

Hugo Wolf (1860-1903): Abendbilder

Heinz Holliger: Lunea: Wirf o Thor, Die Jahre flogen, Die Himmelsschlange, Ich will, Weit, Dein Blick, Transsubstantiatio, Der Mensch, Ich habe, Serenum, Der Eisenhammer, Ein Tropfen, Verächtlich, Man grüsst, Der Schwimmer, Mein Widerhall, Der Frühling, Der schwarze Schleier, Der Zweifel, Der Himmel, Der Mond, Die Wüstenwanderer, Einklang (Nachwort)

Robert Schumann (1810-1856): 4 Husarenlieder, Op. 117: Der Husar, trara!, Der leidige Frieden, Den grünen Zeigern, Da liegt der Feinde gestreckte Schar, 

Othmar Schoeck (1886-1957): Elegie, Op. 36: An den Wind, Herbstgefühl, Verlorenes Glück, Das Mondlicht, Herbstentschluss, Welke Rose

Robert Schumann: 6 Gedichte von N Lenau und Requiem, Op. 90: Lied eines Schmiedes, Meine Rose, Kommen und Schieden, Die Seine, Einsamkeit, Der schwere Abend, Requiem

Encore:
Othmar Shock: Elegie, Op. 36: Zweifelnder Wunsch

Christian Gerhaher
© Wigmore Hall Trust
Holliger:
'Gerhaher ... immediately drew us into the dark, introspective world that would pervade the programme to come. Huber’s glassy, ethereal playing, with layered pedalling also set a darkly atmospheric scene'.   

'Gerhaher delivered the twistingly tormented, leaping lines with remarkable, chilling clarity, with striking stillness on stage, oblivious to Huber’s frequent forays into the piano’s interior'.

Schoeck:
'Gerhaher gave us pleading, icy tones, and the final journey of Herbstentschluss dripped with sadness, before the heartbreaking Welke Rose, Huber’s soft-toned accompaniment in the distance'.

Schumann:
'But it was with the Sechs Gedichte von N Lenau that Gerhaher truly tugged the heartstrings. Words were exquisitely pointed in Meine Rose, with a wishful blossoming on “freudig”. Despite some gloriously ringing tone at the top of his range, he returned to oppressive darkness for Einsamkeit'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Watch the concert streamed by the Wigmore Hall here.




Monday 13 February 2023

Tchaikovsky's Fifth lifts Gergely Madaras' LPO debut

Gergely Madaras
© Marco Borggreve

Zlatomir Fung (cello)
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Gergely Madaras (conductor)

7.30pm, Saturday 11 February 2023



Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893):
 Romeo and Juliet: Fantasy Overture
 Variations on a Rococo Theme for cello and orchestra, Op. 33
 Symphony No. 5 in E minor, Op. 64



Romeo & Juliet:
'Madaras and the LPO gave a sound reading, with tight ensemble and precision throughout, as well as moments of delicacy from muted violins and smooth woodwind textures'.

'Greater edge and urgency was needed in the string accents and surges, and the passionate explosion of the consummating love theme lacked ecstasy, giving us a Romeo and Juliet within a somewhat narrowed bandwidth'.

Rococo Variations:
'Zlatomir Fung performed with an openness and delicate simplicity, whilst delivering the not inconsiderable virtuosic demands with a lightness of touch throughout'.

Symphony No. 5:
'From the start, Madaras exploited a much broader range of dynamics, with surging strings following on from the sombre woodwind opening, and a blistering climax before the movement gallops off into the dark, bass-register distance'.

'By the finale, it felt like Madaras and the LPO were fully settled in, with rushing string waves, fateful brass calls and the woodwind once again nimble and precise'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Gergely Madaras & the London Philharmonic Orchestra
© N Boston