Showing posts with label Korngold. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Korngold. Show all posts

Tuesday, 7 June 2022

CD Reviews - June 2022

In 2018, conductor John Wilson relaunched the Sinfonia of London, a session orchestra with a long history, particularly in recording film music, and for their second recording with Chandos, they focus on German and Austrian composers, post World War II. Richard Strauss (1864-1949) composed his Metamorphosen, for 23 solo strings in 1945, and it is a heartfelt elegy and a musical realisation in many ways of the horrors that had been experienced in the preceding war. The Sinfonia of London strings here produce a deeply resonant and rich sound, and Chandos deserve credit for achieving precision in the balance, especially when all 23 lines are active. No detail is obscured, and Wilson steers the dynamic swells expertly too. In Strauss there are many climactic moments, and it can lose direction, but here there is a definite trajectory to the warmer major passionate centre, before the opening tragic lamenting material returns following a sudden violent stop. Yet despite the title, there is no metamorphosis into a positive new world – Strauss marks the end ‘In Memoriam’, and the subside into quiet darkness is achingly sad. The short Intermezzo for String Orchestra, Op. 8 by Franz Schreker (1878-1934) is an interesting work, with an opening reminiscent of Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht (written at around the same time), but moments of sweet, pastoral string writing too, and perhaps less overall bite. It is given a richly sensitive reading here, with Wilson’s attention to dynamic contrasts providing shape to its overt romanticism. The second half of the disc is given over to the Symphonische Serenade, op. 39 by Erich Korngold (1897-1957). This was composed just before Korngold returned to Austria from the US, during which time he had carved out a successful career in Hollywood, pretty much establishing the Hollywood movie soundworld of the time, and just after he had a heart attack which required him to step back from recording and conducting. Its opening movement shows an immediate shift from the more obvious ‘Hollywood’ sound, with some strident harmonies and tensely dramatic writing. The second movement Intermezzo has virtuosic pizzicato writing, and here the Sinfonia of London players excel, with tight ensemble and rhythmic energy, making the strange brief interjections of glassy bridge bowing and swoops stand out even more. The Lento religioso is heartfelt, but with a Mahlerian profundity that is arresting, and Wilson and the players give this sumptuous weight without any wallowing, and the repeated notes throb with insistent intensity. The violent outburst which interrupts the solace of the central solo passage is positively shocking here, and Wilson certainly extracts maximum drama from the score. The Finale sets off at a cracking pace, and is full of urgent energy. Wilson and the Sinfonia of London are highly impressive throughout these performances, bringing energy, precision and a glorious string sound to this rich repertoire.

Various. 2022. Metamorphosen - Strauss/Korngold/Schreker. Sinfonia of London, John Wilson. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5292.

Now for Bach with a difference. The ensemble incantati, which consists of Emma Murphy (recorders), Rachel Stott (viola d’amore) and Asako Morikawa (viola da gamba), have collected together a selection of J. S Bach’s (1685-1750) keyboard works to perform in various combinations of instruments. Pianists will be familiar with the Two-Part Inventions and Sinfonias – basically pieces with two and three separate lines, with an educational intent, to develop playing the independent lines together. The same applies to his Trio Sonatas, or Organ Trios as they were actually written, which involve three parts – essentially two hands and the feet. In playing these with two or three separate instruments, immediately the individual lines come into their own, and no fluidity is lost through trying to negotiate playing them together on a keyboard. But it is in the different timbres of the instruments that add something new here. And that’s where the flexibility of Murphy’s different recorders and voice flutes is a bonus – so sometimes a warm tenor recorder is matched with the sonorous viola da gamba, or a brighter soprano recorder is paired with the slightly more brittle sound of the viola d’amore. They are also careful here in their selection, with the darker, more sombre pieces (eg. the Sinfonia No. 4, or the mournfully sighing No. 9) contrasted with the bright, lighter examples (Inventions Nos. 1 and 2, for example). There are also beautiful renditions of Bach’s chorale tune arrangements, such as the prayerfully lilting Allein Gott in der Höh sei Ehr, and the joyful, dancing Herr Jesu Christ, dich zu uns wend. They end their disc with the Trio Sonata No. 3, with more virtuosic lines for the alto recorder in its first movement, a lightly singing central movement, and a bright (if slightly stately for ‘vivace’) finale. This is then followed by a wonderfully graceful reading of the Aria from the Goldberg Variations, with the viola d’amore this time taking centre stage, and the tenor recorder and viola da gamba providing subtle inner and lower lines. A delightful collection, highly recommended.

Friday, 9 April 2021

CD Reviews - April 2021

Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951) originally composed Verklärte Nacht (‘Transfigured Night’) for string sextet, but he later orchestrated the work, and it has become one of his most performed works.  Unlike his later music, it is tonal, although highly chromatic, with a late Romantic stamp, and a strong Wagnerian flavour. The poem by Dehmel which inspired the work is about a woman who walks with her lover in a moonlit forest, and confesses she is pregnant by another man.  Her lover ultimately forgives her, and the intensity of their love and the beauty of the moonlight brings them together.  On this latest recording, Edward Gardner and the BBC Symphony Orchestra have cleverly explored some lesser-known works from the same period, notably Oskar Fried’s (1871-1941) setting of Verklärte Nacht, Op. 9, for mezzo-soprano, tenor and orchestra (with Christine Rice and Stuart Skelton the soloists here). Fried’s setting is lush and atmospheric, with warm narrative duets contrasting with more emotionally charged solos from both characters. Rice and Skelton are beautifully matched, and Skelton shimmers at the top of his range on ‘Glanz’ (glow). It is perhaps a little more obvious than Schoenberg’s intense instrumental interpretation, which here receives a wonderfully mysterious and atmospheric reading, contrasting the full weight of strings at the climactic moment, with an incredibly light touch for the lilting night music and glassy solos. The disc begins with another surprise – Fieber (Fever) by Franz Lehár (1870-1948), for tenor and orchestra. This is a highly episodic piece – perhaps understandable when expressing the delirium of an injured soldier in hospital, flitting between calling for the nurse, thinking of his girlfriend, remembering battle and even an image of his mother, before finally succumbing to death. Skelton is bold and emphatic, yet also captures the sense of confusion and anguish here. We get fragments of romantic waltzes, and even a snippet of the Radetzky March, all lusciously orchestrated. Skelton returns in the four Lieder des Abschieds, Op. 14 (Songs of Farewell) by Erich Korngold (1897-1957). Full of yearning, with texts including ‘Sterbelied’ (Upon Dying), a German translation of a Christina Rossetti poem, the songs employ frequent yearning vocal leaps, and Skelton’s placing is impeccably tender. The second song is more urgent and dramatic, whilst the third and fourth have more of a gentle rocking feel. Korngold’s orchestration is rich and sumptuous, and here as throughout, Gardner and the BBCSO are on top form.  

Various, 2021. Verklärte Nacht: Schoenberg, Fried, Lehar, Korngold. Christine Rice, Stuart Skelton, BBC Symphony Orchestra, Edward Gardner. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos. CHSA 5243.

Greek-born pianist Alexandra Papastefanou studied in Moscow, Budapest and the US, and has had lesson from Alfred Brendel. She has performed all of Bach’s keyboard works, and to date, her recordings have also focussed on Bach, as well as her own compositions. Now she turns to Robert Schumann (1810-1856), and in a two disc set, she covers all the works for piano written in 1839. The following year, 1940, is known as his ‘Year of Song’, in which he wrote over 160 vocal works, including 135 solo songs. It was also the year he finally married Clara, after the extended and embittered battles with her father. Whilst not as prolific a year, 1839 did generate a considerable number of works for the piano, and in many ways, they reflect the turbulent time of that year before he was finally able to marry the love of his life. Papastefanou has coined the term ‘Year of Piano’ for her survey of this output. Papastefanou plays with clarity and avoids overindulgence in the more romantic, expressive passages. So the Humoreske, Op. 20 is suitably boisterous and playful to begin with, yet the stuttering rhythms of the second section have a subtle unease, followed by darker, expressive then tender and lilting third and fourth sections. Schumann said when writing this ‘I have been sitting at the piano, composing and writing, laughing and crying all at once’, and there are certainly a lot of moods to capture here. The same might be said of the 4 Nachstücke, Op. 23, with a slightly pacy, agitated funeral procession, and swirling, darkly turbulent night revelry. Papastefanou takes some freedom with the tempi in the Arabeske, Op. 18, yet could perhaps take a little more time in the expressive recitative-like moments, but the rippling repeating rhythms have a real flow. The Faschingsschwank aus Wien, Op. 26 (Carnival Jest from Vienna), is fascinating, with its embedded reference to the Marseillaise, at that time banned in Vienna, and lively dances, rippling textures and central sad Romanze. Again, Schumann’s moods change from moment to moment, yet Papastefanou makes sense of these transitions, making coherent sense of the contrasts. The 3 Romanzen, Op. 28 are darker than one might expect from the title, and a sense of anxiety pervades. The middle Romanze has moments of calm, but the third is jumpy and mercurial. There are a number of shorter pieces filling out this two disc collection, some part of larger collections published later, but here for the year of their composition. They merit their inclusion, however, and the dark smouldering Praeludium from Bunte Blätter, Op. 99 and the delicately dancing Phantasiestück from Albumblätter, Op. 124 are given sensitive readings here. A fascinating collection of lesser-performed works here, and Papastefanou performs throughout with virtuosic command and sensitivity to the constantly changing moods. 


Schumann, R. 2021. Schumann 1839: Year of Piano. Alexandra Papastefanou. Compact Discs (2). First Hand Records. FHR 112.


(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in Scene, April 2021)

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

CD Reviews - August 2013


Pianist Peter Donohoe has begun a cycle of Prokofiev’s (1891-1953) Piano Sonatas with the first five, out of a total of nine.  They range from an early student work, unashamedly romantic in the style of Tchaikovsky, through to the fifth, a rather introspective and refelective work, and the only one of the nine to be composed outside Russia.  Whilst the Sonatas 6-8, his ‘War Sonatas’, are widely considered to be his greatest piano works, these first five show a remarkable journey from the early romantic work through to the lively challenges posed by the Fourth Sonata, and the strange expressive harmonic world of the Fifth Sonata.  Donohoe recorded the ‘War Sonatas' no fewer than 23 years ago, to great acclaim at the time.  Now he has returned, this time to record the full set.  He is a great British pianist, with a remarkably sensitive approach to even the most virtuosic of repertoire, and this combination makes this recording particularly enjoyable.  Prokofiev certainly needs virtuosic command, but the expressive side of his music, most notable here in the slow movement of the Fourth Sonata, is often given less careful attention.  Donohoe brings this first volume to a subtle and enigmatic close with the final movement of Fifth Sonata’s surprisingly quiet conclusion – almost as if in anticipation of the next volume to follow soon.


Jean-Efflam Bavouzet continues his survey of Haydn’s (1732-1809) Piano Sonatas, with Volume 5 once again containing 6 sonatas spread across the composer’s output, with the earliest, No. 15 from 1760, through to Nos. 54-56 from 1784.  No. 12 is also here, although its authenticity as a genuine Haydn sonata is under considerable doubt – but whoever composed it, it probably originated even earlier in 1755.  However you look at it, though, this disc once again shows the extraordinary range and constant flow of invention that Haydn demonstrated over such a long period.  Highlights here for me are the lively finale of No. 37, a dance-like minuet and trio of variations, the startling harmonic jump in the finale of No. 54, and the strangely unsettling and destabiliising rhythmns of No. 56.  Once again, Bavouzet demonstrates incredible precision and command, at the same time as bringing this music alive with a sense of fun and enjoyment throughout. 


Clarinettist Michael Collins is back with Volume 2 of British Clarinet Sonatas, once again joined by Michael McHale on the piano.  Here are five works, ranging from 1949 to 2010.  The earliest is Arthur Benjamin’s (1893-1960) Le Tombeau de Ravel, a ‘tombeau’ (memorial tribute) in itself to Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin.  This sequence of miniature waltz time sections ends with a wonderful climax reminding one of Ravel’s La Valse.  Sir Malcom Arnold (1921-2006) is perhaps finally gaining the status he deserves, after a lifetime of battling against being seen as a ‘light’ film composer.  His Sonatina is not a hugely substantial work, but contains delightful jazz infusions, a beautifully lyrical slow movement, and a wildly virtuosic finale.  Edward Gregson (b.1945) has written five Tributes to particular composers (including Poulenc and Bartók), composed for specific clarinettists, including Emma Johnson, and Collins himself.  The other works here are Arnold Cooke’s (1906-2006) Sonata, a substantial four movement work with influences of Hindemith evident, with whom Cooke studied, and finally, a delightful Sonatina by Joseph Horovitz (b. 1926), full of lyricism and bouncy syncopation.  Collins, ably accompanied by McHale, is the ideal advocate for works that sadly seldom receive an airing.




Violinist Arabella Steinbacher has combined an old favourite, the Violin Concerto No. 1 by Max Bruch (1838-1920), with Erich Korngold’s (1897-1957) Violin Concerto, and the Poème for Violin and Orchestra by Ernest Chausson (1855-1899).  These are all full-on romantic works, and a whole disc of such music could be rather overpowering, were it not for the fact that Steinbacher takes a cleaner, more measured approach than one might expect.  That is not to say that she is at all reticent in her playing – on the contrary, in the slow movement of the Korngold, for example, she extracts every ounce of romantic lyricism, with a beautifully singing tone throughout.  It’s just that somehow she saves the high romanticism for the ‘right’ moments, rather than wallowing throughout.  Interestingly, if you listen to just one of the works here (perhaps the Bruch in particular), you might be left wanting more, but listening to the disc as a whole the end result is just right – satisfying without feeling like you’ve over-indulged on too much dessert. The Orquestra Gulbenkian, conducted by Lawrence Foster, provide tasteful and solid support.




Finally, more piano, this time Brahms, from Irish pianist Barry Douglas.  He’s on the second volume of Works for Solo Piano by Brahms, with three of the Ballades, three Intermezzi, a Rhapsody and the Sonata No. 3.  He is taking the approach of splitting and mixing up Brahms’ sets, creating interesting programmes as a result.  I have to say I am so used to hearing the Intermezzi in their respective sets, that it takes a little getting used to hearing them separated in this way.  However, once I got used to not hearing what I expected on the next track, I actually really enjoyed the juxtopositions here – particularly the sense of building towards the great Sonata at the end of the disc.  Douglas plays with great sensitivity, and avoids a heaviness that can creep in with Brahms at his most dramatic.  In fact this whole disc builds beautifully to the heart-stopping Rückblick before the joyous chorale-like closing finale of the Sonata.  The sign of a great pianist is being able to say something new with familiar repertoire, without resorting to distorting interpretations, and that is what Douglas achieves here.

Brahms, J. 2013. Works for Solo Piano, Volume Two. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10757.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, August 2013).