CD Reviews - February 2021

First up this month, a great new disc of works by Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992). Piazzolla brought the music of the ‘Nuevo tango’ to concert platforms, and is responsible for its wider exposure outside Argentina. HIs music has been performed in many guises, and here, Italian saxophonist Marco Albonetti plays a selection of his works along with the Orchestra Filarmonica Italiana. Most of the works here are arranged and orchestrated by Albonetti, and his sensitive interpretations demonstrate how well the saxophone (mostly the soprano instrument) is suited to taking the role of the bandonéon (a kind of concertina, and Piazzolla’s own instrument). Piazzolla used a musical motif for ‘Diablo’ (as well as one for ‘Angel’) in numerous pieces, and the title track, Romance del Diablo is sensuous and intimate, with the devil definitely in seduction mode here. Albonetti plays with aching melancholy, and the orchestral playing is sumptuous throughout. Spread across the disc are Las Cuatro Estaciones Porteñas (The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires), in which several soloists from the orchestra get the chance to shine (Cesare Carretta (violin), Alessandra Gelfini (piano), and Virgilio Monti (double-bass)). There are some great percussive effects in Autumn, and dark, sensuous rumblings in Winter, along with virtuosic interludes from the piano and sax. There’s more virtuosity in Spring, as well as driving rhythms, and the duet between sax and double-bass gets wilder and wilder at the conclusion. Summer is lively, with pulsing pizzicato strings beneath the sax solo, before the sliding double-bass builds the tempo, to a final scream from the sax to finish. For Años de Soledad (Years of Solitude), Albonetti ups the melancholic ante by switching to the baritone sax, and the warm tones, contrasted with the jabbing orchestral tango rhythm, make this a highlight of the disc for me. Two of Piazzolla’s most well-known works are here too. Oblivion is preceded with a solo sax improvisation over a pulsing double-bass heartbeat, before the slow, melancholic milonga tune takes over, with evocative inflections in the melodic line from Albonetti. The disc ends with Libertango, and once this gets going, the sax repeats its hypnotic, twisting motif over the piano and bass stamping out the tango rhythm. I’ve heard interpretations with greater abandon here, but Albonetti and the players are certainly captivating to listen to. Reinterpretations of Piazzolla can sometimes be a little clinical in trying to replicate a particular sound and style – not so here, as Albonetti has clearly fully absorbed this music, making for a disc full of life and romance.

Piazzolla, A. 2021. Romance del Diablo - The Music of Piazzolla. Marco Albonetti, Orchestra Filarmonica Italiana. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20220.

The American Lysander Piano Trio mark their tenth anniversary with a collection of premieres of works they have commissioned and collaborated on with living American composers. There are works here from six composers, and the opening work, Around the Cauldron by Gilad Cohen (b.1980) has seven short movements depicting scenes inspired by the three witches in Macbeth. Cohen particularly exploits the high registers of the three instruments for ‘witchy’ effect, and there’s lots of twisting and turning, with the violin and cello lines often colliding. Hand-stopped piano strings evoke an electric bass, and there’s lots of glassy string effects too. Reinaldo Moya’s (b.1984) Ghostwritten Variations take inspiration from fictional composers from four novels, including Mann’s Doctor Faustus, imagining what those composers might sound like. Moya makes great use of turbulent perpetual motion, as well as reverberation effects from repeated, pulsing chords. In the final variation, from Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Memory of Whiteness, the ghostly high piano ripples against glassy sustained string chords are particularly striking, as are the tolling, low piano ‘bells’ towards the end. For Jennifer Higdon’s (b.2013) Love Sweet, the trio are joined by soprano Sarah Shafer for a set of five songs following the trajectory of a relationship from birth to death. Shafer has a bright, incisive tone, and expresses the changing moods well here, from the sprightly opening ‘Apology’, through the ominous, even disturbing atmosphere of ‘Absence’ (with insistent knocking from stopped piano strings), the elegiac and intense ‘A Gift’ with its strange chromatic harmonies, to the painful end in ‘A Fixed Idea’, with more stopped piano strings, lurking low and torturing in their repetition. They return to Shakespeare for Sofia Belimova’s (b.2000) Titania and Her Suite, and in this delightful miniature, the piano ripples and the violin delicately tweets like a bird. A wild dance builds, with all three players bumping into each other rhythmically, and the result is a beautifully light and wispy confection. William David Cooper (b.1986) turns to Psalm 137 for An den Wassern zu Babel, with the cello introducing the falling, expressive lament. Cooper exploits the lyrical potential of the string instruments here, and as the music develops, there are some highly dramatic sweeps, with a sense of frenzy building through the fifth of the variations here, and the music then drives through the final variation to an almost violent conclusion. Jakub Ciupinski’s (b.1981) The Black Mirror concludes the disc, with some incredibly evocative and effective writing. He creates a ‘seagull’ effect with glissandi (slides) on harmonics, and there are hints of Pärt in the rising and falling lines beneath shifting harmonies. As the intensity builds, the ‘seagulls’ swoop around piano chords, then the strings wind around in repeating, minimalist patterns, leading to a dramatic final bell-like section. The Lysander Piano Trio demonstrate exceptional virtuosic and expressive talent across this diverse selection of styles, thus creating an excellent showcase for all six composers, and their 10^thanniversary – Happy Birthday!

Various. 2020. Mirrors - 21st Century American Piano Trios. Sara Shafer, Lysander Piano Trio. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR111.

 

And finally, off to Latvia, via Canada. Tālivaldis Ķeniņš (1919-2008) left Latvia following Soviet occupation after World War Two, emigrating to Canada in 1951. Prior to going to Canada, he lived and studied in Paris. He composed eight symphonies and twelve concertos, as well chamber, piano and choral works. Despite being one of Canada’s most performed composers, few works have been recorded. So the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Andris Poga, are rectifying that, with a disc of three works, his Violin Concerto, his Concerto for Five Percussionists and Orchestra, and the single movement orchestral piece, Beatae voces tenebrae. His music combines a certain romanticism with the neoclassicism of his French training, and it is a fascinating mix of lean, often angular counterpoint with lyrically striking melody. In the Violin Concerto, performed here impressively and with conviction by Latvian violinist Eva Bindere, the spiky, virtuosic lines, over often sparse and brittle orchestral accompaniment contrast with expressive falling and rising lines in the slow movement. Ķeniņš makes sparse use of woodwind, but there is a ghostly bassoon solo, and the brass and percussion are used to ominous effect in the Scherzo. An extended cadenza begins the finale, with an essentially lyrical if highly chromatic line ornamented with trills and leaps, and percussion and racing strings herald a race to the finish. The Concerto for Five Percussionists and Orchestra, performed here by members of Perpetuum Ritmico, is highly dramatic, as one would expect. A live performance would carry the added benefit of the visual, as a dazzling array of percussion instruments are made use of here (not all of which I could identify aurally). In the dramatic opening movement, there are crashes and knocks from cymbals, woodblock and gong, as well as queasy tuning slides on the timpani. In the first slow movement, tuned percussion is used to great atmospheric effect, with muted trumpets and another mournful bassoon solo. After a brief faster section, the train slows down into a second slow movement, with muted strings lamenting and constant knocking and rattling in the background. The final movement returns to high drama, with crashing drums, sliding drums and even a siren for a wild finish. To conclude the disc, Beatae voces tenebrae is a mixture of serene calm and anguish of grief – it was written after the sudden death of two close friends, but also possibly commemorated the 100^thbirthday of his mother, as well as ‘deported loved ones’, victims of the occupation. He draws extensively on the four-note B-A-C-H motif, as well as works by Bach, such as the downward movement in the Crucifixus of the B minor Mass. There are also references to Liszt and Beethoven, as well as the harp’s perpetual motion from In Paradisum from Fauré’s Requiem. From a low, rumbling opening and an initial slow rhythmic pace, Ķeniņš gradually builds tension, with moments of true anguish from the strings, and some strange effects from the horns. The Fauré effect at the end brings calm, although the percussion continues to knock away disconcertingly in the background, before the harp rises into nothingness at the end. A fascinating window into a new composer for me, and one I will definitely want to explore further.

Ķeniņš, T. 2020. Tālivaldis Ķeniņš - Violin Concerto, Concerto for 5 Percussionists and Orchestra, Beatae voce tenebrae,. Eva Bindere, Perpetuum Ritmico, Latvian National Symphony Orchestra, Andris Poga. Compact Disc. SKANi LMIC088.  

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

Defiantly alive Dvořák and joyful Schubert from the Nash Ensemble

Nash Ensemble
© Wigmore Hall

Nash Ensemble

Alasdair Beatson (piano)

Stephanie Gonley (violin)

Lawrence Power (viola)

Adrian Brendel (cello)

Graham Mitchell (double bass)

Streamed online 7.30pm, Monday 8 February 2021

Recorded January 2021

Available free online here for 30 days (make a donation here)

Wigmore Hall, London

★★★★

Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904): Piano Quartet No. 2 in E flat major, Op. 87

Franz Schubert (1797-1828): Piano Quintet in A major 'Trout Quintet', D667

Nash Ensemble
© Wigmore Hall

Dvořák:

'The Nash players grabbed hold of proceedings with the emphatic, arresting opening, and the distant key harmonies underpinning the string and piano exchanges that followed were full of mystery and expectation'.

'This was a defiantly alive performance throughout, with tight ensemble and infectious intensity, right to its full-bodied finish'.

Schubert:
'The Theme and Variations fourth movement was delivered with delicate poise, simply enjoying the unfolding of Schubert’s melody and varied accompaniment, with particularly liquid pianism from Beatson'.

'This was as joyful a Trout, without any unnecessary outstanding features, as one would want – nothing to get in the way of heartfelt delight in Schubert’s invention and the joy of chamber musicians making music together'. 

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

Darkly intense Berg from Kavakos, with uplifting Schubert from Rattle and the LSO

Leonidas Kavakos
© London Symphony Orchestra

Leonidas Kavakos (violin)

London Symphony Orchestra

Sir Simon Rattle (conductor)

Streamed Thursday 21 January 2021 at Marquee TV

(available free for 7 days, then on demand through subscription)

Recorded Thursday 7 January 2021

LSO St Luke's, London

★★★★

Alban Berg (1885-1935): Violin Concerto 'To the Memory of an Angel'

Franz Schubert (1797-1828): Symphony No. 9 in C major D944, 'The Great'

Sir Simon Rattle & the LSO
© London Symphony Orchestra

Berg:

'His incisive virtuosity brought a moving intensity'. 

'Kavakos’ effortless cadenza passages, with a tolling solo line combined with fiendish left hand pizzicato, was captured well by close-up camerawork and his lament, joined by the bassoons, was heartrending'.

Juliana Koch
© London Symphony Orchestra

Schubert:

'Rattle’s Andante (often taken too slowly) had energy, yet it didn’t feel rushed'.

'Through the endless stream of Schubert’s ideas, Rattle maintained the momentum, driving through with the racing strings to blazing trumpets and a glorious finish'.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

CD Reviews - January 2021

Barry Douglas’ survey of Schubert piano works began back in 2014. In the fifth volume, Douglas presents us with two Sonatas, both composed in the final five years of Schubert’s (1797-1828) short life. As with previous volumes in the series, the disc is filled up with two of Liszt’s transcriptions of Schubert songs, here Liebesbotschaft and Ständchen, both from the Schwanengesang cycle. The Sonata in D major, Op. 53 is emphatic and energetic from the very beginning, and Douglas plays the opening movement with a lively swagger. The slow movement brings a sense of calm, and here Douglas sensitively brings out the lyrical quality of the song-like theme. As the movement ranges through many obscure harmonies, Douglas maintains momentum and the forward trajectory, and the movement’s conclusion, when Schubert expertly combines his two themes has a wonderfully cathartic completeness as a result. The Scherzo is given a jaunty bounce, and its pulsing Trio section has real elegance despite its sometimes shocking harmonic shifts. Douglas then gives the unexpectedly light, Haydnesque Rondo finale a delicate light touch, contrasting beautifully with the two more dramatic episodes. The Sonata in A minor, Op. post. 143 opens sombrely, with a funereal theme, first stated quietly, then more angrily repeated, and a sense of drama continues in the frequent soft/loud contrasts. The second theme is gentler, more prayerful, but still with sudden loud interruptions. Douglas provides suitable weighty emphasis, whilst achieving the necessary contrast with some subtle delicacy in the quieter moments. At the time of composing this, Schubert was depressed, following the onset of syphilis, and brutal treatment for its symptoms. So unlike other Schubert works where a sense of serenity shines through despite everything, this movement never escapes from a weight of despair. The second movement is calmer, despite an odd twiddling interruption in the melody which is then drawn on throughout. The finale sweeps away any residual calm with immediately racing triplets that barely let up. Douglas whips up the pressure throughout, leading up to the thundering climax. The two Liszt transcriptions are delightful. In Liebesbotschaft moves the song melody around within the texture, contrasting with the rippling ‘murmuring brook’ accompaniment, and Douglas brings out the lyricism of the melody throughout. Liszt’s treatment of Ständchen is mostly faithful to Schubert’s song, with a few repositionings of the melody and decorative effects in the final ‘verse’. Douglas gives the melody a slightly halting rubato which gives it a very effective soloistic, singing quality. 

Schubert, F. 2020. Schubert. Works for Solo Piano. Volume 5. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos. CHAN 20157.

London based harpsichordist Asako Ogawa has already a recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations under her belt, and now she’s turned her attention to the Six Partitas BWV 825-830. These six suites are amongst the last of the keyboard suites he composed, and the most technically demanding. Yet despite being 40 at the time, they were the first of his compositions to be published. They stand as a showcase for technical brilliance, yet the variety and character in the different movements, as well as the overall style of each partita requires a great range of mood and touch. Some of you may have heard András Schiff performing the Partitas on piano at Glyndebourne in the 2019 Brighton Festival in an intensely captivating performance. On harpsichord however, they are so much lighter, and the dance forms shine through more. Ogawa is incredibly precise and nimble, taking the faster movements at a great pace, with a rattling Rondeaux and Capriccio at the end of No. 2, and a sprightly Courante in No. 4, for example. She adds subtle yet delightful ornamentation on some repeats, making the Menuet in No. 1 really dance. She makes use of a buff stop (where a strip of leather is placed against the strings, creating a muted sound) sparingly, such as in the repeat in No.1’s Sarabande, and creating almost a dulcimer effect in No. 5’s Minuetto. No. 6 is perhaps the most adventurous of the set, and there is a wonderfully free sense of mystery in the dramatic opening Toccata, with a beautifully flowing central fugue. There is more subtle ornamentation in the Allemande’s repeats, and the Corrente has driving energy, with a blistering flourish to the rapid arpeggios. The final angular Gigue would be a challenge to dance to, but here it finishes off this impressive two CD set with great spirit. 

Bach, J. S. 2020. J. S. Bach. 6 Partitas. Asako Ogawa. Compact Discs (2). First Hand Records. FHR92.

American composer Arnold Rosner (1945-2013) was new to me, and I’ve greatly enjoyed discovering his two choral masses on a disc from Blossom Street, a chamber choir of young singers directed by Hilary Campbell, founded in York but now based in London. Rosner was very much drawn to the polyphonic music of the Renaissance and early Baroque, and this is clear in the structure and form of the two masses here. However, his harmonic language is fascinating and within the construct of a mass setting, he manages to create some incredibly striking and dramatic moments. So his Missa L’homme armé, Op. 50 has the French secular song as its basis – as with many Renaissance masses, the tune is used as a ‘cantus firmus’, a sort of slow-moving spine, about which the other voices move, often using elements of the same tune. Things start out relatively conventionally in the opening Kyrie, although the harmonies become increasingly chromatic through the Christe and the second Kyrie. The Gloria contains a boisterous Laudamus te, with sliding, falling chromatic lines. The Credo is very dark in places, although suddenly bright at ‘Et resurrexit’, with a very dramatic Amen. The Hosanna is bouncy rhythmically, although the repeated ‘excelsis’ becomes rather aggressive, and it is in this movement that the harmonies are at their wildest. A calmer Benedictus gives some respite before the return of the Hosanna. Even the Agnus Dei is pretty full-blooded, although with a calmer conclusion. The Missa In nomine, Op. 62 also uses a cantus firmus, this time the ‘Gloria tibi trinitas’ plainchant. Its Kyrie is weightier, perhaps even more Romantic in terms of its texture and vocal impact. As with the Missa L’homme armé, the Gloria begins quietly, but launches into a lively Laudamus te, almost jazzy in its rhythms, and reminiscent of Poulenc in places. Following its scrunchy Amen, the Credo twists and turns with chromatic rising and falling harmonies. Renaissance simplicity returns briefly but very effectively for the Et incarnatus, with a dark, slow-moving Crucifixus. The Hosanna in the Sanctus is joyfully lively and less harsh than in the previous mass, the Benedictus is beautifully plaintive, and the Agnus Dei has dark harmonic moments, before a pretty insistent, almost demanding ‘grant us peace’ to end. Between the two masses is Peace, My Heart from Nine Tagore Madrigals, Op. 37. A setting of ‘The Gardener’ by Bengali author Rabindranath Tagore, it is lighter in texture than the masses, with lilting rhythms and contrasting groupings of voices. Blossom Street are highly impressive here in what is often very challenging music to sing, and they achieve great clarity of tone and precision in the tuning and harmonies, as well as rich energy in this frequently dramatic and fascinating choral music. Rosner wrote eight symphonies, three operas, as well as other orchestral and chamber music, and on the basis of this, he is definitely worth greater exploration.

Rosner, A. 2019. The Masses. Arnold Rosner. Blossom Street, Hilary Campbell. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR053.

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

CD Review - Over the Rainbow

Just time before Christmas to add a late review of a lovely disc I received from Convivium Records. Over the Rainbow is a collection of songs and duets performed by brother and sister BBC2 Young Chorister finalists from 2019, Will James and Kate James. There's a great variety of repertoire here, from Britten's Corpus Christi Carol, sung with purity of tone by Kate, and a surprisingly haunting rendition of Sleep by Ivor Gurney, with Will adding edge in the lower registers of his treble voice, through to effective arrangements by George Arthur of the Robbie Williams classic, Angels, and the title track, Over the Rainbow. In the latter, the arrangement has the blended voices colliding beautifully, and there's poignancy in the added cello (from Sarah Butcher). Angels again effectively matches the two voices, creating a rippling duet over a lilting piano accompaniment - played as throughout the disc by Malcolm Archer. In these lighter numbers, Will and Kate might have relaxed their

impeccable chorister diction, but these are nevertheless enjoyable renditions. George Arthur's arrangements of Simple Gifts and Were you there? also make great use of weaving and twisting the two blended voices together, and in Were you there?, he makes great use of the overlapping, clashing parts, as well as using echoes as the voices tumble over each other, and the piano tolls out the bells in the final verse. Will brings a mournful tone, and a little more expression to Dowland's Flow, my tears, and Katehe Turtle Dove, in Vaughan Williams arrangement, has more depth of tone too, with a suitably folk simplicity. There's lots more here - sixteen tracks in all - and this is a 

highly impressive collection from two clearly talented young singers. Definitely worth checking out - perhaps a last minute Christmas present, if you get in quick!

Various. 2020. Over the Rainbow. Will James, Kate James, Sarah Butcher, Malcolm Archer. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR059.

CD Reviews - December 2020

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.

Frances-Hoad, Cheryl. 2020. The Whole Earth Dances. Various. Compact Disc. Champs Hill Records CHRCD152.

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 faster

variations. 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.

Mendelssohn, F. & F. 2020. Complete Works for Cello and Piano. Joël Marosi, Esther Walker. Compact Disc. First Hand Records. FHR81.

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

Louis Lortie
© Hiroyuki Ito for The New York Times

Op. 67 set. The simple dance of the first is followed by the touching, nostalgic second – again Lortie demonstrating wonderfully his ability to achieve such contrasting moods with subtle dynamic inflections and halting rubato. That nostalgic mood continues in the third, a gently swirling dance, and the darkly expressive fourth. The two Polonaises, Op. 40, especially the first, the ‘Military’, are by nature emphatic and weighty, but this can be easily overdone in the first, rendering it a shouty affairs. Here, Lortie certainly provides weight, but with precise articulation and full use of the range of dynamics he avoids the bombast. The second is full of brooding darkness, and Lortie brings this out, as well as the wistful melancholy of the lyrical central section. A final set of Mazurkas, the Op. 41 with the first drawing invention from just a few notes, and the second evoking strumming guitars in its opening chords. The third is simple and graceful, whereas the final Mazurka of the set is the most substantial and dramatic. Once again, Lortie captures the extraordinary variety of moods like a chameleon. The Op. 49 Fantasie concludes the disc, with its funereal march launching an explosion of improvisatory explorations. Lortie is definitely let loose here, although despite the extremes of virtuosity, that sense of subtle changing moods is never lost.

Chopin, F. 2020. Louis Lortie plays Chopin, Volume 6. Compact Disc. Chandos Records. CHAN 20117.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, December 2020)

Refreshing Beethoven from Benedetti, Kuusisto and the Philharmonia

Nicola Benedetti, Pekka Kuusisto
& the Philharmonia
© Camilla Greenwell

Nicola Benedetti (violin)

Pekka Kuusisto (conductor)

Philharmonia Orchestra

7.30pm, Monday 30 November (streamed online)

Royal Festival Hall, London

★★★

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): 

Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61

Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 36

Violin Concerto:

Benedetti ‘certainly paid close attention to detail, whilst never getting bogged down ... , always maintaining a refreshing lightness of touch, and a sense of the overall picture’. 

‘Her tone was open, feathery and almost breathy, certainly never weighty or cloying’.

‘The oboe ‘cadenzas’ ... in the finale were great fun, and gave a light frisson to proceedings, all part of a bright and fresh overall performance’.  

Pekka Kuusisto & the Philharmonia
© Camilla Greenwell 

Symphony No. 2:

‘Ensemble was tight, with precision in the playing, and strong attention to dynamics throughout‘.

‘Highlights included ... a gracefully shaped second movement, with a light swagger to its lilting dance section’.

Read my full review on Bachtrack here.