Showing posts with label Janáček. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Janáček. Show all posts

Monday, 9 May 2022

CD Reviews - May 2022

Following on from their two volumes of Felix Mendelssohn’s String Quartets, the Doric String Quartet are now joined by Timothy Ridout (viola) for a disc of his String Quintets. Mendelssohn wrote just two of these, going with the viola added to string quartet combination, favoured by Mozart and Brahms, as opposed to adding a cello, which Boccherini and Schubert did. Mendelssohn’s String Quintet No. 1, composed when he was 17, came hot on the heels of the successful premiere of his glorious Octet. Ever the reviser, it was another five years before he published both. Its opening movement has a leisured warmth, with only brief hints of darker moods in its development, before it gently dances to a quiet ending. The Intermezzo, with its singing melodic idea is sensitive and elegiac. Intensity builds over warm lower strings, with the rhythmic pace of the throbbing repeated figure increasing. It never feels totally settled, despite its calm ending. We’re in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ territory in the Scherzo, with skittering fairy music led off by the first viola. The players here give this precision and clarity, yet avoid it becoming too dry, and there is some dramatic scraping from the cello, not holding back from a harshly biting timbre. Yet once again, the movement disappears into nothing. Whilst not quite reaching the heights of exuberance of the Octet, the finale is full of joyful energy, set up by its lively triplet upbeat. Alex Redington on first violin shines in the rippling runs, and sings over the rumbling lower instruments. Energy levels ramp up and up, leading to the joyous conclusion. The String Quintet No. 2 came some 18 or so years later, with much of the same sense of energy but perhaps less of the unfettered joyfulness of his youthful works. The opening movement has an athletic first violin part over a tremolo accompaniment. The whirling triplet rhythms mean there is always a sense of movement, and these drive on, becoming more insistent, building to a full-on emphatic conclusion. In the dancing, lilting staccato of the second movement, once again the players here avoid it becoming to picky, maintaining a sense of the melodic material and the dance in an masterclass of control. But it is the intense pathos of the slow movement – essentially a funeral march – that is most striking about this work. From a darkly pianissimo opening, cello scales rise and a slow relentless march emerges. There are drum-like battering effects, and heartfelt laments from the violins. A nostalgic A major melody provides some temporary relief, but it is short-lived, and the agitation of the march increases. Yet Mendelssohn can’t leave us totally in the dark, as the movement suddenly turns at the end to a triumphant D major, before subsiding into a gentle, calm end. The finale, perhaps a little incongruously after the deep intensity of the previous movement, bursts forth with a jolly, energetic theme. This theme provides most of the material here, and its contrapuntal development perhaps loses a little direction at times, but Mendelssohn eventually pulls everything to a suitably emphatic close. Throughout these fascinating and underperformed works, the Doric String Quartet and Ridout are alive to the Mendessohnian flashes of joy and energy, yet they are also alert to the finer detail. They know when to provide warmth, but also when to give edge to their sound too. Highly recommended.

Mendelssohn, F. The String Quintets. Doric String Quartet, Timothy Ridout. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20218.

Arc I is the first of a series of three recordings by American pianist Orion Weiss. This first album features three works from the years 1911-1913. Weiss describes the trajectory of the series as like an inverted rainbow, and this first volume’s ‘steps here head downhill, beginning from hope and proceeding down to despair’. We’ll have to wait for the next disc to see things reach their lowest before renewal and rebirth are promised in the final volume. So here we begin with Enrique Granados’ (1867-1916) Goyescas, Op. 11, a Romantic masterpiece of invention. From the warmly expressive, watery cascades of the opening movement ‘Los reuiebros’ (Flattery), through to the macabre, stuttering dance of the final ‘Epilogo: Serenata del espectro’ (Epilogue: Serenade of the Ghost), this monumental and atmospheric suite is full of Granados’ extravagantly ornamented and improvisatory virtuosity. Weiss is commanding in the frenzied, passionate outbursts in ‘El Amor y la Muerte – Balada’ (Love and death – Ballade), but equally delicate in the nightingale’s song of the fifth movement. There’s a skip in his step in the moments of courting in the opening movement, and he ends the suite with ominous tolling bells before disappearing with a final mercurial wisp. Leoš Janáček’s (1854-1928) In the Mists follows – a shorter suite, and more introspective than the Granados. There are typical Janáček chromatic twists and turns in the melodies, and his motif of death, the falling minor third, features large. Weiss captures particularly well the claustrophobic, suppressed passion of the final movement, which breaks out with melismatic, singing outbursts and increasing intensity, before defeat in its dark sombre conclusion. Weiss ends with Alexander Scriabin’s (1871-1915) Piano Sonata No. 9, Op. 68, ‘Black Mass’. Full of ‘satanic’ tri-tones and chromaticism, begins hopeful but descends into darkness and despair, and Weiss makes the low rumblings and persistent trilling effects feel chillingly ominous. There is a real sense of the second, more hopeful melodic idea insistently writhing as if trying to escape, before being ultimately subsumed into a frightening march. This is an impressive display from Weiss, and sadly speaks to current anxieties and a sense of despair. Arc II promises to take us to the lowest point of grief and loss, but hopefully Arc II will bring us some hope for the future – much needed at present.

Various. 2022. Arc I - Granados, Janáček, Scriabin. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR127.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in Scene, May 2022) 

 

Thursday, 20 September 2018

Something special in the air: Rattle and the LSO in energetic Sibelius 5

© Mark Allan/Barbican

Janine Jansen (violin)

Sir Simon Rattle (conductor)

London Symphony Orchestra

Wednesday 19 September, 2018

Barbican Hall, London






Janáček: Sinfonietta, Op. 60

Szymanowski: Violin Concerto No.1 Op. 35

Sibelius: Symphony No. 5 in E flat major, Op. 82

'A fine example of live performance in every sense, and it was evident that ... the orchestra was having a ball'. 

'Janine Jansen, from the violin’s first solo entry, was in command of this tricky piece', with 'impressive focus and intensity of tone'.

'Rattle and the LSO ... gave this a freshness and energetic spirit such that one was made to listen anew throughout'.

'A highly exciting whirlwind of a rendition'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.


Monday, 17 October 2016

CD Reviews - October 2016


Clarinettist Michael Collins has been working his way through an excellent survey of British Clarinet repertoire in his series of discs of Sonatas, and now with a second disc of Clarinet Concertos.  Here he is not only soloist but also conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra in four fascinating but pretty obscure works seldom performed.  He opens the disc with Movements for a Clarinet Concerto by Benjamin Britten.  This began life as an incomplete sketch for an opening concerto movement that Britten wrote in America with Benny Goodman in mind.  However, on his return to Britain, his manuscripts were impounded by customs, on suspicion that they might somehow contain coded information.  Goodman later got cold feet when the US entered the war, and Britten had moved his attention on to Peter Grimes, so the work was never completed.  In 1990, Colin Matthews (b.1946) orchestrated the sketch, and Collins premiered the resulting movement.  Then in 2007, Matthews took a two-piano work and an orchestral sketch by Britten, and orchestrated both to make a three-movement concerto, which Collins also premiered.  The result is a remarkably convincing work, with a striking opening flourish and spiky arpeggios for the clarinet in the first movement, a subtle and somewhat subdued central 'Elegiac Mazurka', followed by a lively finale, in which Matthews brings in the opening theme from the first movement to give the concerto a sense of cohesion.  Gerald Finzi's (1901-1956) Five Bagatelles, Op. 23a were originally for clarinet and piano, but were arranged for clarinet and string orchestra by Lawrence Ashmore (1928-2013) in 1989 as a companion piece for Finzi's well-known Clarinet Concerto (recorded by Collins on his first volume of British Concertos).  These are characterful, mostly lyrical pieces, with lots of very English pastoral melodies. Finzi's family had Italian and German Jewish roots, but he was born in London, and studied under Stanford. The Romance is particularly beautiful and breathes with a wistful idyllic air, and the final Fughetta is joyful and carefree.  Arnold Cooke (1906-2005) was born in Yorkshire, and studied with Paul Hindemith, before teaching in Manchester and then at Trinity College of Music in London until 1978.  His Concerto No. 1 contains lots of angular melodies that have a clear link to Hindemith, and the opening movement is full of spiky contrapuntal writing, the leaps and turns of which Collins negotiates with ease.  The central slow movement's lyrical melody ends with a repeated blackbird call, and there is a definite feel of flight and pastoral freedom here. The finale picks up the pace with a lively dancing clarinet theme supported by varied rhythmic interest in the orchestral writing.    Wales is represented here by the Concerto Op. 68 by William Mathias (1934-1992).  The Concerto is orchestrated for strings and a variety of percussion, which is used to great effect throughout.  The opening movement's 'Scotch snap' rhythms create a birdlike, pecking feel to the melody, enhanced with Matthias' use of percussion, with a slower central section enhanced by an eerie vibraphone.  The slow movement is more introspective, with a mysterious intensity throughout, ending with a cadenza for the clarinet, which, joined by rototoms, rushes straight into a somewhat frenzied, jazz-infused finale, giving little breathing space for the clarinet.  This is a disc packed with variety and interest, and Collins and the BBC Symphony Orchestra give faultless and enthusiastic performances of these fascinating works, making this worthy of high recommendation.


Lutenist Alex McCartney follows up his debut album, which I reviewed in January 2016 with 'Elizabeth's Lutes', a disc of lute music from the time of Elizabeth I.  She was a keen lute player herself, and also employed many musicians in her court.  McCartney has put together a nicely varied programme, all recorded in a highly resonant acoustic, which actually suits this music well, adding warmth and depth to the tone.  However, he opens the disc with a delightful piece, Susanne un jour, by the Franco-Flemish composer, Orlande de Lassus (1532-1594), who has no real connection to Elizabeth. Nevertheless, de Lassus was world famous and would surely have influenced musicians and composers of the time, and despite not specifically writing for the lute as far as we know, this lute arrangement was made by a contemporary in England.  There are a number of works here by Daniel Bacheler (c.1574-c.1610), who was 'Lutenist and Groome of her Majestie's Privie Chamber'.  His Monsieur's Allemande is the most substantial, with great opportunities for McCartney to demonstrate his command of the instrument in its variations.  He also plays two of Anthony Holborne's (c.1545-1602) rich Pavanes, and his touching Last Will and Testament.  Holborne was probably an usher at Elizabeth's court, and was not employed as a musician, despite composing much lute, cittern and bandora music in his lifetime.  Alfonso Ferrabosco's (1543-1588) Miserere is a little more ornate, with a delicacy and lightness, which McCartney brings out well here.  John Dowland's (1563-1626) career in England suffered from his early conversion to Catholicism, and he spent some time employed as a lutenist in Denmark, only finally being employed by the English court after Elizabeth's death. His Fancy included here begins quite starkly but soon gathers pace, building in virtuosity.  William Byrd's (c.1540-1623) keyboard Pavane Bray was arranged by Francis Cutting (c.1550-c.1596), and McCartney manages its contrapuntal lines evenly. This is a highly enjoyable disc, warmly recorded and expertly performed throughout.


Edward Gardner is on the third volume of Leoš Janáček’s (1854-1928) orchestral works with the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, and the main work here is one of his finest non-operatic works, the wonderful Glagolitic Mass.  Glagolitic refers to the script, an early version of Cyrillic, in which the Old Church Slavonic Mass was originally written.  This is an incredibly challenging choral work, and here Gardner has massed together four choirs, the Bergen Philharmonic Choir being enhanced by the Choir of Collegiûm Mûsicûm, the Edvard Grieg Kor and the Bergen Cathedral Choir. They opt for the revised edition, which includes changes made by Janáček during rehearsals for its premiere.  There are arguments for both – were those changes due to inadequacies of the Brno premiere forces, or were they changes that Janáček really wanted in the light of hearing the work being performed?  The upshot is that the earlier version has more raw edges, but also a more ‘dangerous’ energy.  However, the revised version is more often performed, and here it receives a highly energetic and incisive performance.  The choral forces are solid, with clear diction and well-blended tone, particularly impressive in the wildly joyful Svet (Sanctus).  The solo line-up is also strong, particularly soprano Sara Jakubiak and tenor StuartSkelton. Thomas Trotter’s wild organ solo is incredibly powerful, followed by a gloriously brassy Intrada to close the work. This is a strong performance, with great depth of recorded sound from Chandos.  I miss hearing the Intrada at the opening as well as at the end – but of course on CD, that’s easily rectified.  The disc also contains a moody Adagio, more overtly romantic than his later works, but nonetheless enjoyable.  Zdrávas Maria (Hail Mary) is for Soprano, chorus, violin and organ, and it receives a touchingly sensitive reading here from Sara Jakubiak and two of the choirs.  The final work is a setting of The Lord’s Prayer, Otče Náš, again for chorus and organ, but now with Tenor solo and harp.  Stuart Skelton and the choral forces give a passionate reading of this attractive setting.  However, none of the additional works can compete with the drama of the Glagolitic Mass and the powerful performance it receives here.



(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, October 2016)

Friday, 22 January 2016

CD Reviews - January 2016

Edward Gardner and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra’s second volume of orchestral music by Leoš Janáček (1854-1928) contains the rhapsody, Taras Bulba, based on a collection of tales by Gogol. The first movement’s romantic cor anglais solo is contrasted with some typically acerbic brass writing, and the death march to the scaffold in the middle movement ending in a crazy dance and a wild high clarinet death cry is highly imaginative. Warlike triumphant brass, organ and bells conclude the finale of one of Janáček’s most popular orchestral works. The short single-movement Violin Concerto, ‘The Wandering of a Little Soul’, contains music the composer later used in his overture for From the House of the Dead, and has been rescued as a concerto from incomplete drafts. Violinist James Ehnes performs this rhapsodic work – full of interesting ideas, but perhaps better seen as an early working out of material better exploited elsewhere. The Danube is a symphony with solo soprano (Susanna Andersson here), again completed by Miloš Štědroň and Leoš Faltus. It contains some incredibly striking and arresting music, not least in the virtuosic vocalise for soprano in the third movement. The Ballad of Blaník is poetic and expressive, with Good Friday singing evoked by clarinets and violas, and a march for peace with bright trumpets. Jealousy, a brief overture originally intended for his opera Jenufa, is suitably violent and intense. The Fiddler’s Child, a ballad for orchestra features the orchestra’s leader, Melina Mandozzi in a typically macabre folk tale, with divided violas representing the poor villagers, and the oboe the sick child. Imaginative music from a unique composer, all expertly performed here.

Janáček, L. 2015. Orchestral Works, Volume 2. Susanna Andersson, James Ehnes, Melina Mandozzi, Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, Edward Gardner. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5156.


A full disc of lute music, especially all by one composer, René Mésangeau (c.1567-1648), is a risk. However, I have been very much enjoying such a disc which I came across by lutenist Alex McCartney, who has worked with artists such as Emma Kirkby amongst others. Mésangeau was reportedly the finest lutenist of his day, and the works he wrote were considered highly influential on the instrument’s repertoire. McCartney has recorded three of his Suites, each beginning with expressive Préludes, followed by a selection of dance-based movements, such as Allemandes, Courantes and Sarabandes. These different dances have their various characters, although nothing ever gets going in terms of tempi, the Courantes coming closest to any more rapid movement. However, once you relax into the courtly soundworld, the stylish ornamentation and subdued tones of the instrument win you over. Like the guitar, it is a difficult instrument to hear live in recital as it is relatively quiet, so it comes over well on a recording, although here I would say the recorded sound is a little boomy at times. However, this is an enjoyable disc and worth exploration for anyone interested in the instrument – or guitar lovers who want to try something different too.

Mésangeau, R. 2014. Mésangeau's Experiments. Alex McCartney. Compact Disc. Veteran Musica. 

The fact that the Iceland Symphony Orchestra, with conductor Rumon Gamba, are on their sixth volume of orchestral music by French composer Vincent d’Indy (1851-1931) is evidence of the size of his catalogue, yet very few works are regularly performed today. D’Indy studied under César Franck, and taught many composers, including Satie, Albéniz and even Cole Porter. He focussed more on the German symphonic tradition than French contemporaries such as Debussy, Ravel and Fauré, which perhaps explains why he suffered from a perception of being conservative. Yet his music has a wealth of unusual ideas, interesting orchestration and a strong sense of musical drama. This sixth volume begins with a cycle of three overtures, which together form a substantial symphonic work, Wallenstein, based on a poetic drama by Schiller. The first overture, which focusses on the triumphant Imperial army, is full of Wagnerian triumphalism, and the romantically tragic second overture has some beautiful orchestration, making good use of soulful clarinets and a mournful oboe solo. The final part of the trilogy, ‘La Mort de Wallenstein’, has a mysterious sequences of harmonies supposedly linked to Wallenstein’s belief in astrology, and despite a dramatic brass dominated conclusion, it ends with wind and harps in astral peace. The other substantial work here couldn’t be more different. The Suite dans le style ancien, was actually unusually scored for string quartet, two flutes and a trumpet, but here is played with full strings. I would say that whilst the trumpet fares well out of this, there are times when the fuller strings obscure the flute writing a little. It uses traditional dance forms that d’Indy would have been familiar with as an editor of early music, and it combines a strong sense of the traditions of forms such as the Sarabande and Menuet with imaginatively modern ideas of rhythm and harmony. The Entrée is particularly balletic, and the finale Ronde française contains a highly inventive double fugue. The three other short works on the disc here include a delightful, if not particularly profound work for cello and orchestra, the lyrical Lied, played here with a beautifully warm tone by Bryndis Halla Gylfadóttir. Throughout, Gamba and the Iceland Symphony Orchestra play with strong attention to detail and convincing warmth.

d'Indy, V. 2015. Orchestral Works, Volume 6. Bryndis Halla Gylfadóttir, Iceland Symphony Orchestra, Rumon Gamba. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5157.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, January 2016)