Various. 2026. Chopin sans Chopin. Adam Golka. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR168.
My review of Golka playing Schumann here.
Various. 2026. Chopin sans Chopin. Adam Golka. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR168.
My review of Golka playing Schumann here.
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| Sheku and Isata Kanneh-Mason © James Hole |
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1947): Cello Sonata No. 1 in B flat major, Op. 45
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): Cello Sonata No. 5 in D major, Op. 102 No. 2
Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924): Cello Sonata No. 1 in D minor, Op. 109
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849): Cello Sonata in G minor, Op. 65
Encore:
Chopin: Largo from Cello Sonata in G minor, Op. 65

Sheku & Isata Kanneh-Mason
© Nick Boston
Beethoven:
'From the funereal opening, with Isata’s low soft chords and Sheku’s long sustained line, right through to the final falling harmonies and low cello notes to end, they showed remarkable sensitivity in this typically profound late Beethovenian statement'.
Fauré:
'Sheku and Isata passed the melodic fragments back and forth, with some deft pedalling from Isata in the central movement in particular to avoid muddying the line among the rich textures'.
Chopin:
'... it was the sad, lyrical Largo that sat at the heart of this performance, Sheku and Isata at their expressive best, each seamlessly taking the baton of sustained melody from the other'.

Isata & Sheku Kanneh-Mason
© Nick Boston
'This was an impressive evening from two rapidly maturing performers, not afraid to bring chamber music to audiences more familiar with more standard virtuosic concerto displays'.
Read my full review on Bachtrack here.
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| Yefim Bronfman & the Bayersiches Staatsorchester © Mark Allan/Barbican |
Robert Schumann (1810-1856): Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 54
Encore:
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849) – Nocturne in D flat major, Op. 27 No. 2
Gustav Mahler (1860-1911): Symphony No. 4 in G major
Encore:
Mahler: Suite aus den Orchesterwerken (Bach, Johann Sebastian), 4. Air
(from Suite No. 3 in D major, BWV 1068)
There have been a crop of recordings coming out of musicians’ exploits during lockdown, and violinist Sara Trickey is a strong addition to the field (released 21 October). Trickey posted weekly videos of solo violin music via YouTube, and as well as bringing her performances to new audiences, she enjoyed the communication from listeners too. As the world returns to some sort of normality of performance, that intimacy of connection is something many performers are now missing. Trickey has recorded a range of repertoire here from those weekly videos, the majority being contemporary works, with several world première recordings and a number of compositions specifically written for her. She begins however with Albéniz’s (1860-1909) popular Asturias from his Suite Española No. 1, Op. 47, in a strong arrangement by Jane Gillie. Written for piano, but also well known in the guitar version, it works remarkably well on the violin, and the instrument has the additional advantage when it comes to sustaining the melodic lines. Trickey communicates the dramatic rhythmic energy, but also adds this element of sustain to the melodies. Telemann’s (1681-1767) Fantasie No. 1 receives a pleasingly light interpretation, with introspection in the slow sections, and an energetic bounce in the faster movements. Her Prokofiev (1891-1953) Violin Sonata, Op. 115 is full of playfulness, dancing through the outer movements, with a light-footed approach to the variations in the middle movement. Norwegian composer Bjarne Brustad (1895-1978) was new to me, and his wistful Lento from his Fanitulsuite No. 1 is beautifully played here, with an ethereal breathy tone in its repeated patterns, often echoed by glassy harmonics. Sally Beamish’s (b.1956) The Wise Maid is folksy and playful, with a surprise towards the end as the harmonies suddenly shift and slide into its quirky conclusion. James Francis Brown’s (b.1969) Soliloquy, written for Trickey, is evocative and improvisatory, again with that introspective feel that speaks of lockdown and isolation. Errollyn Wallen’s (b.1958) Bertha, for which Trickey is joined by Rosie Bergonzi on the handpan is a curious mix of racing, scratchy energy that almost can’t be contained by the gentle insistence of the handpan, followed by a move into more gently rocking rhythms and a delicate song melody from the violin, before the earlier energy returns. David Matthews’ (b.1943) Prelude no. 12 from his set of 15 was written for Trickey’s birthday, with delicate lyricism and birdlike trilling packed into its brief two minutes. Lyell Creswell (1944-2022) sadly passed away just after the recording of his Lento, written for Trickey back in 1994. It has a moving simplicity, played with touching intimacy, and Trickey also played this at Creswell’s funeral earlier this year. The disc ends with a more flamboyant encore piece from Aleksey Igudesman (b.1973). His Applemania is full of energetic, insistent rhythms, with an infectious build which almost bursts out at its conclusion – a fitting celebration perhaps of an end to lockdown. Overall, this is a fascinating survey of varied solo violin repertoire, and speaks of intense commitment and a desire to communicate, as well as clear virtuosic command from Trickey.
Various. 2022. From an Empty Room. Sara Trickey. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR139.
Pianist Louis Lortie has reached Volume 7 of his Chopin survey, and this volume contains a good spread of the Mazurkas, perhaps the quirkiest genre of Chopin’s (1810-1849) output. Lortie immediately sets out his store with a stylish swagger in the first of the Op. 17 set. The second is suitably wistful, and then he manages well the slightly seasick, circling repetitions of the third, giving the sombre fourth a delicate poignancy, with some relief in its gently throbbing central section. The Op. 68 set is a more mixed bag – the first is a little on the weighty side, but the sombre mood of the second has a lightness contrasting with its thrumming central section. The third has an authoritative command, with light echoes. Lortie saves back the fourth, the most wistfully exploratory, to the end of the disc. For the Op. 30 set, we’re back in sombre territory for Nos. 1 and 2, whilst No. 3 has a ballroom swagger, and the fourth pushes chromaticism the furthest. From Op. 63, No. 1 has a gently meandering central section, surrounded by more ballroom swaying. Lortie gives the nostalgic second a gentle sway too, and the third follows in the same vein. He brings a great delicacy of touch to the delightful Rondo à la Mazur, Op. 5, composed by Chopin aged 16, and full of youthful exuberance, but equally poise and control in its lighter sections. The Boléro, Op. 19, after an opening flourish, settles into a gently lilting melody, before the boléro proper arrives, with its polonaise-like, bouncing accompaniment under its infectious melody. The Rondo, Op. 16 has a highly dramatic introduction, and Lortie lets this develop with virtuosic command, before giving the rondo theme a gently playful bounce, enjoying the gradual build in virtuosic display. The Tarantelle, Op. 43 is a swirling whirlwind, given great energy here by Lortie. The ‘Héroïque’ Polonaise, Op. 53 carries suitable weight, but Lortie avoids overegging the pudding, maintaining a sense of dance amidst the heft. Another great volume in this strong survey.
Chopin, F. 2022. Louis Lortie plays Chopin, Vol. 7. Louis Lortie. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20241.
In this short disc, Italian pianist Alberto Nones performs the three works by Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849) with Fantaisie in the title. Nones’ approach here is to somewhat strip away the virtuosic fireworks to reveal the precise detail that sometimes gets lost in more overtly showy performances. This is very evident in the fluid Fantasie-Impromptu, Op. 66. The outer sections certainly flow here, apart from occasional halts in the momentum, and there is no compromise of tempo. The central section, however, could flow more, as there is extensive pulling about of the tempo here. But every detail can be heard, and the final section, whilst not as fiery as some other performances, is certainly impressive. In Fantasie, Op. 49, Nones’ approach is perhaps more successful, with its gentle opening to the drama that unfolds in a somewhat matter of fact way. Nones gives weight where needed, but the chorale like sections have a gentle simplicity. Nones gives the Polonaise-Fantaisie, Op. 61, a more stately, expectant opening, bridging well the transition from the recit-like statements into the flowing dance that finally gets going. There is a lightness here that allows the dancing melody to sing out, and the build to the virtuosic conclusion is not rushed or obscured by excessive weight. So whilst these might not be definitive recordings of these work, there is much to be savoured here in Nones’ refreshingly unfussy playing, revealing fresh insights into familiar works.
Chopin, F. 2022. Complete Fantasies. Alberto Nones. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR074.
Somewhat slightly different territory for me now - another pianist recording with Convivium, but this time the Italian jazz pianist Matteo Bisbano Memmo. Clearly a highly virtuosic pianist, he demonstrates this with some astonishing playing in the first half of the disc, a selection of standards, with a number of arrangements from the extraordinary Art Tatum. Here, Bisbano shows no fear, with rippling fluidity and startling virtuosity in Charlie Mingus' 'Duke Ellington's Sound of Love', and the wild, fiendishly racing 'Tiger Rag'. There is some lightness of touch in 'Alfonsina Y El Mar', and softness in the rich chords of 'Yesterdays', but mostly the requirements of the extreme virtuosity does lead to a somewhat harshly percussive sound in places. However, in the second half of the disc, Bisbano moves to a selection of his own compositions, and the mood is completely different. The virtuosity is still evident, in the driving energy of the extended composition, 'Metalknife', for example, but there is also more dynamic variety in the lively, urban 'Smokey Stogie', and enigmatic, more lyrical writing in 'Rose'. He uses the open piano strings effectively at the mysterious start of 'Metalknife', and the atmospheric, slow-moving harmonies in 'Stardust Light' are highly effective. And what to finish with? Well, a cover of Metallica's 'Master of Puppets', of course. He captures the relentless drive and percussive hammering here, once again with highly virtuosic playing, but there are also moments of sudden delicacy in the brief lyrical interludes. Overall, this is an impressive display of virtuosic talent, but for me, it is in his more expressively varied own compositions that Bisbano's pianistic voice shines.
Various. 2022. Metalknife - Music for modern piano. Matteo Bisbano Memmo. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR066.
(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in Scene, August 2022)
Franz Schubert (1797-1828): Die schöne Müllerin, Op. 25: Das Wandern
George Butterworth (1885-1916): Six Songs from A Shropshire Lad
Rebecca Clarke (1886-1979): 8 o’clock
Aufblick
Robert Schumann (1810-1856): Album für die Jugend, Op. 68 No. 21
Liederkreis, Op. 24, Nos. 1-3
Rebecca Clarke: Stimme im Dunkeln
Robert Schumann: Album für die Jugend, Op. 68 Nos. 8 & 16
Liederkreis, Op. 24, Nos. 4-5
Franz Schubert: Die schöne Müllerin, Op. 25: Wohin? & Halt
Interval
Franz Schubert: Die schöne Müllerin, Op. 25: Am Feierabend, Der Neugierige & Ungeduld
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958): Songs of Travel: The Vagabond
Charles Wilfred Orr (1893-1976): A Shropshire Lad: Along the field
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849): Prelude, Op. 28 No. 10
Ralph Vaughan Williams: Songs of Travel: Roadside Fire, Whither must I wander? & Bright is the Ring of Words
Charles Wilfred Orr: A Shropshire Lad: When I watch the living meet
Frederic Chopin: Prelude, Op. 28 No. 23
Charles Wilfred Orr: A Shropshire Lad: The Lent Lily
Franz Schubert: Die schöne Müllerin, Op. 25: Die liebe Farbe, Die böse Farbe, Der Müller und der Bach
Encore:
Ralph Vaughan Williams: The House of Life, No. 2: Silent Noon
'Most striking was Williams’ immediacy of communication, often singing as if speaking conversationally'.
'Williams’ control at the higher end of his register was also impressive, with particular lightness on the opening note of Loveliest of trees'.
'Williams’ Schubert had energy and impatience, with a bright twinkle for Das Wandern, and expertly voiced different characters in Der Neugierige'.
'Williams’ ability to shift the emotions as quickly as they turn in these songs is what made this recital so captivating throughout'.
'Cibis also deserves credit for the range of his playing, both in the varied accompaniments and in his solo pieces'.
Read my full review on Bachtrack here.
Alban Berg (1885-1935): Piano Sonata No. 1
Tikhon Khrennikov (1913-2007): Dance, Op. 5 No. 3
Five Pieces for Piano, Op. 2
George Gershwin (1898-1937): Three Preludes
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849): Nocturne in B major, Op. 62 No. 1
Impromptu No. 1 in A flat major, Op. 29
Impromptu No. 2 in F sharp major, Op. 36
Impromptu No. 3 in G flat major, Op. 51
Scherzo No. 1 in B minor, Op. 20
Polonaise in A flat major, ‘Heroic’, Op. 53
Encores:
Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847): ‘Duetto’, Songs Without Words Op. 38 No. 6
Evgeny Kissin (b.1971): Dodecaphonic Tango, from Four Piano Pieces, Op. 1
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849): Scherzo No. 2 in B flat minor, Op. 31
Claude Debussy (1862-1918): Suite bergamasque, L.75 No. 3, ‘Claire de lune’
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| Evgeny Kissin © Salzburg Festival/Marco Borelli |
I’ve been following the work of composer Cheryl Frances-Hoad (b.1980) for a number of years now, and it was a great delight to explore her latest disc of recordings of some of her chamber works, entitled ‘The Whole Earth Dances’. The title belongs to a work commissioned by The Schubert Ensemble, and in fact this recording was their last as a group before they disbanded in 2018. Inspired by the simple experiences of walking in her local park, but also by the importance of taking notice of nature in a time when it under such threat, it is a single expansive movement for the same musical forces as Schubert’s Trout Quintet (piano, violin, viola, cello, double bass). Full of long sustained string chords, with delicate piano commentary in places, the movement alternates between lively, spiky ‘thistles’ and gentler, unfurling ‘ferns’ (references to two Ted Hughes poems that also influenced here). And there is hope in the positively consonant, sudden C major ending. There’s so much on this disc, nine works in all, for varied chamber forces, and many different performers, it’s hard to do justice here to all of this. Cloud Movements for clarinet, violin and piano again makes use of slow-moving chords to evoke drifting clouds, but there’s also lyricism here, particularly in the central movement. Flanking that central movement are two dancing canons, the first in three parts, and the faster moving second in four parts, increasing the rhythmic complexity, creating unsettling cross-rhythms as the clouds pass and partially obscure one another. Two works for cello and piano follow. Songs and Dances is full of passion and lyricism for the cello in particular, but also there are strangely moth-like high, glassy flutterings, and a surprising folk-like dancing melody in the central movement. There are brief moments of peace, but the final lament is dominated by heartfelt anguish, and ends in nothingness. This leads beautifully into The Prophecy, where that sense of anguish is taken to a new level. Frances-Hoad was influenced here by quotes from people experience schizophrenia, and there is definitely a sense of mental struggle here. Again, the piece begins out of nothing, almost inaudible initially, and the strange slides from the cello build to a terrifying world, full of quotes of the Dies Irae chant. The cello emerges at one point with a higher, more lyrical melody, but the insistent piano doesn’t give up, with the Dies Irae almost screaming through at one point. This is an incredibly virtuosic piece for both players, and Rebecca Gilliver (cello) and Sophia Rahman (piano) give an outstanding performance. Towards the end, the cello cries out with a strange vibrating screech, and then a kind of unsettling calm is reached at the end, with occasional stabs from the piano punctuation an exhausted cello solo.Then for something completely different - Game On, a work for piano and Commodore 64 computer. In this, Frances-Hoad takes sounds from a 1987 puzzle game, X0R, and uses these to create a fascinating soundworld, exploring game theory, robots taking over the world, and ultimately, destruction of humanity - so not a cheery piece! In the first movement, Nash, we’re in the world of game theory, and a sense of uneasy equilibrium, where the piano matches and works around the incessant computer sounds, with nobody really getting anywhere as a result. In Robots will Rule the World, we enter the soundworld of Dr Who (the BBC Radiophonic Workshop), the theremin and ondes martenots, with weird lasers and ‘vaporising’ sounds - what starts out as maybe a conversation between piano and computer definitely becomes a battle - and the title gives the clue as to who wins. In the final Lament, the minimalist repeating patterns of the computer contrast with the melody that emerges on the piano, and then gradually the computer patterns stutter, jam and stick - like an irregular heartbeat, or ultimately the sound of flatlining - so who’s died, the robots or us? There is a chilling sense of panic here, despite the slightly comic origins of a 1980s gaming computer. Three more works round off the collection. First, a lop-sided, quirkily accented Mazurka for violin and piano. Then comes Medea for solo flute, a dramatic monologue of long sustained notes and pauses, interrupted by moments of impassioned activity full of flutters and trills, evoking Medea’s battle between emotion and decision. Finally, a work for string quartet, My Day in Hell, inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy. The complex organisation of numbers of circles and groups in that work dominates Frances-Hoad’s calculations of structure, rhythm and even melody, and the angular melodic material, downward slides and richly dissonant chords definitely create a sense of being trapped in circles within circles. I’m always struck in Frances-Hoad’s music by how, despite some common devices, such as the contrast between slow, long chords and spikier rhythmic movement, with great use of pregnant pauses, the atmospheres evoked are incredibly varied and individual to each piece. I’ve focussed on the music itself here, but all the performers deserve praise here - there is some challenging music, and all the players do great justice to Frances-Hoad’s fascinating and often virtuosic demands.
Joël Marosi (cello) and Esther Walker (piano) have brought together on one disc all the works for cello and piano composed by brother and sister, Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) and Fanny Mendelssohn (1805-1847). This amounts to two Sonatas, a set of Variations Concertante, and a couple of miniatures from Felix, and two single movement works from Fanny. Many of the pieces were written with their cellist younger brother, Paul. Felix’s first Sonata has a real youthful urgency in the opening movement, with slight yearning in the second subject. Walker manages to produce a bright tone despite the driving repeated chords and thick textures of the piano part, and Marosi brings out that yearning as well as a virtuosic display to finish. He really gets the chance to sing out in the second movement’s lyrical central section, and the sense of rapid drive returns in the finale, with more turbulent sections, and a dramatic climax with flourishes particularly for the piano. Both players here produce the requisite drama, but also manage the piece’s quiet ending, with delicate lyricism from the cello over a gently rippling piano. The Song without Words that follows is warm and lyrical, with a delicate piano part, and Marosi delivers this with a heartfelt simplicity, and an understated sense of urgency in the central section. The single movement Assai tranquillo, possibly incomplete, has a pleasing melody passed from cello to piano, with the cello then weaving in and out of the piano’s presentation of the tune. The Variations concertantes draw on a humble, hymn-like tune, and encompass eight variations, sharing out the virtuosic moments between instruments reasonably equally, if anything favouring the pianist. The two players here exploit their moments well, and bring out effectively the more dramatic moments, such as in the seventh’s declamatory cadenza-like statement, although there could be a little more tempo differentiation between the fastervariations. Turning to sister Fanny, we then have a Fantasia, with a beautifully romantic melody presented fist on the piano, with the cello emerging from a low accompaniment to take over the melody. There is plenty of opportunity for Marosi to sing here, particularly in the slower arioso section. The quiet ending might suggest this is somewhat slight, but the melodic invention and use of repeated chords in the accompaniment are very pleasing. Similarly, in her Capriccio, lyrical melodies are passed between the instruments, with the piano leading off on a faster central section, with emphatic fanfare-like statements from the cello. Once again, the movement winds down to a quiet finish. We return to Felix for the remainder of the recording, with his Sonata No. 2. The two players bound into the opening movement, with its striding cello theme and joyful energy and drive throughout. The piano introduces the second movement’s hesitant melody, repeated pizzicato by the cello, with delicately ringing grace notes from Marosi here. The piano is in charge of the slow movement to begin with, with an arpeggiated chorale, given rich tone here by Walker. The cello joins with a lyrical melody on top, and gradually takes over direction of proceedings, with the piano receding into the background, before stealing back the lyrical melody at the end. The piano launches the finale, with an immediately racing, virtuosic delivery. The cello occasionally takes over the virtuosic runs, but the piano is in charge here. Walker and Marosi never let up with the driving rhythmic energy, right to the dramatic explosive climax, before the dynamics drop down leaving quiet, rippling exchanges to end the piece.In Louis Lortie’s sixth volume of Chopin works, we have the Hommage à Mozart Op. 2, the two Op. 40 Polonaises and the Fantasie Op. 49, interspersed with sixteen of the Mazurkas. Lortie’s Mazurkas are full of character, with great attention to articulation and dynamics. From the Op. 6 set, he gives the first a wonderful halting lilt, and its falling chromatic progressions have a silky darkness. The folk-like drones and eastern-infused melodic inflections in the second are seductively accentuated by Lortie’s rubato. The third and fourth are brief gems, the former with its light droning and lively theme, and the latter with its fleeting off-kilter accents, all of which Lortie brings out well. A second set of four, Op. 24 follow, with a lyrical, more waltz-like affair to begin with, contrasting beautifully with the stomping off-beat rhythms of the second. The third has pauses in almost every phrase, and Lortie shapes and times these with delicate poise, as he does the chromatic clashes and dramatic swirls of the last of the set. The Hommage à Mozart opens with a lengthy rhapsodic introduction, with hints of Mozart’s theme, ‘Là ci darem la mano’, and Lortie delivers this with suitable grandeur and virtuosic command. The theme is then finally presented more straightforwardly, followed by a brilliant set of variations, with increasingly extreme demands on the pianist’s virtuosity. Lortie dashes this off with impressive ease, and then exploits the dark drama of the operatic Adagio variation to the full, with an electric Alla Polacca to finish. Back to Mazurkas next, and the
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| Louis Lortie © Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times |
Johannes Pramsohler (violin) and Philippe Grisvard (harpsichord) have worked together on a number of recordings. Their latest, lavishly produced and beautifully packaged double CD recording focuses on French Sonatas for the Harpsichord and Violin. They begin with Jean-Joseph Cassanéa de Mondonville (1711-1772), and explore his influence on other composers from around 1740-1760, and the changing role of the violin in accompanying sonatas for the harpsichord from that period. So across the two discs, we have two of Mondonville’s influential Sonatas, as well as sonatas from six other composers, including no fewer than five world premiere recordings. As ever, the energy and dedication that Pramsohler & Grisvard bring to the repertoire is highly engaging. There is a consistent brightness and energy in their sound, always refined, and with incredible attention to the fine detail, with delicate ornamentation and graceful poise. It is also fascinating to hear the contrasting styles of different composers, from the sophisticated grace of Jacques Duphly’s (1715-1789) characterful pieces, grouped and presented here as two ‘sonatas’, to the virtuosic and more dramatic Sonatas by Louis-Gabriel Guillemain (1705-1770). These latter works put great technical demands on both players, and the evident enthusiasm Pramsohler and Grisvard have for them is infectious. The harpsichord is perhaps most dominant in the Versaille harpsichordist Luc Marchand’s (1709-1799) Suite here, with its rattling repetitions and ringing scales in the final Carillon du Parnasse, whereas the melodic lines and ideas are shared and swapped back and forth between the instruments more in Michel Corrette’s (1707-1795) Sonata. This is a fascinating collection, put together with great insight (and highly informative notes from the players), and performed with such energy and commitment throughout. Highly recommended.