In the 1920s, Paul Hindemith was well and truly aboard the Modernist bandwagon, writing “shocking” absurdist operas employing bitonal harmony and even jazz. His violin sonatas, however, bypassed all this. His first two appeared in 1919 and 1920, predating his iconoclastic period, while the later sonatas date from 1935 and 1939, by which time he had left youthful hijinks behind.  Though Brahms would have found them mystifying, in the early works Hindemith breathes the same air as the older master. No 2 gets a strong performance from German violinist Tanja Becker-Bender and her Hungarian partner Péter Nagy. They are thoroughly inside the idiom, capturing the slightly lugubrious atmosphere of the slow movement. They also show fine rapport in the later C Major Sonata, when Becker-Benda lightens her tone for the fleeting scale passages at the close of the Langsam movement.Elsewhere they can turn abrasive – Hindemith’s music doesn’t need help to sound tough – and at forte Becker-Bender’s tone becomes wiry in the upper register.  Recent competition in Op 11 No 1 and the two later sonatas comes from Frank Peter Zimmermann on BIS. His tone is easier on the ear, and his musicianship (and that of his pianist Enrico…

Some of the hottest young properties in classical music perform Rachmaninov and Prokofiev.

Sir Arnold Bax was one of Britain’s most individual composers. Hearing a few bars of one of his mature, Celtic infused scores is often enough for you to say, “ah, Bax”. But in 1907, as a well-heeled emigré wannabe composer “battening on the fleshpots of Dresden”, as we are told in Lewis Foreman’s excellent sleeve notes, his influences and musical flavour were distinctly Russian – indeed, his landlady was convinced he was one! In Germany he also got to hear two movements of Mahler’s Sixth and something of the ambition of that work infuses this, his first attempt at a symphony. It was Bax’s practice to orchestrate only when he had a performance in view, and in the absence of such, the piano score languished – until now, thanks to the conductor Martin Yates. It’s a big, sprawling work, in places in need of a trim, but it’s brimming with memorable material such as the leaping opening theme of the first movement or the Ravelian waltz that forms the basis of the scherzo. The whole work is most convincingly realised for the orchestra. Bax was a master colourist and that this comes over here is a credit to Yates. It……

I am, as they say nowadays, conflicted about this release. The playing of the Camerata Nordica is highly impressive. What disturbs me is the concept. String orchestra transcriptions of Beethoven quartets, especially the late ones, are nothing new. Toscanini and Weingartner did them – the latter even subjecting the Hammerklavier Sonata, of all things, to the process. The point is, can a string ensemble really replicate the unique intimacy, intensity, complexity and sublime enigma of this music more effectively than the medium for which it was originally composed? The ‘happier’ or less complicated quartets (if any of this music could be described as uncomplicated) fare better. The Op 127 sounds robust and almost jolly in this ensemble’s hands. It’s when we reach the Finale of the B Flat, Op 130 that the problems set in. The original Finale, the Grosse Fuge, is the most ferocious and terrifying piece by Beethoven (or anyone else, for that matter). I’m not against string transcriptions of the “Great Fugue” per se. Klemperer recorded it early in his EMI career, almost 60 years ago, and the result is, to this day, grittily unforgettable, but the effect of the playing here tends to glamorise it.  The…

For the last twenty years soprano Emma Matthews has been an invaluable asset to Opera Australia, her miraculously reliable vocal abilities elevating many potentially mundane evenings into memorable occasions. With a captivating, vivacious stage presence whether playing sweet ingénue, saucy minx, ditzy maid or femme fatale (her Lulu was an unexpected tour-de-force) one felt secure knowing the musical values would always get their full due. Her virtues of beautiful silvery tone with tight but attractive vibrato and her impeccable technique allied with rock solid intonation are showcased here with this collection of Mozart arias. Opening with Lieve sono al par del vento one hears the artist’s virtues in a nutshell; beauty and virtuosity in abundance but never for the sake of empty display. Ruhe sanft, mein holdes leben is radiantly sung with the ends of phrases hanging in the air like silk on a breeze and Ach, ich fühls is sung with chaste purity and refreshing simplicity. She certainly has the pipes to deal with the concert arias; four of which are offered here and are the highlights of the recital. These are notoriously tricky works with many stratospheric passages; the coloratura demands are ramped up due to their function as insertion…

It’s not for nothing that the young Bach walked 250 miles to Lübeck to hear Buxtehude perform. Johann Sebastian knew a good thing when he heard it and so, clearly, does Ton Koopman, whose scholarly edition of Buxtehude’s oeuvre is making available to us a substantial hoard of buried treasure from the early German Baroque. This is volume 17 of Koopman’s complete survey and, like its predecessors, it reveals the breadth and variety of the composer’s output. The double CD contains chorale settings, sacred arias and cantatas but if that sounds stock in trade you’d be surprised at the musical novelties herein. Buxtehude wrote for church but also for familial occasions, his famous evening concerts and town celebratory events. The performances are thoroughly idiomatic, Koopman encouraging a natural approach and embracing a quasi-improvisatory feel where appropriate. Original keys are restored (generally higher than the norm) and if these pose challenges to soloists, they are by and large met with aplomb. His sopranos blend perfectly despite some fearsome agility tests – listen to Gerlinde Sämann and Amarylis Dieltiens in the rapturous Laudate, pueri Dominum. Countertenor Maarten Engeltjes is ravishing in the poignant Klag-Lied, written to commemorate the death of Buxtehude’s father….

Canadian pianist Angela Hewitt initially became known for her Bach but lately she has ranged farther afield with composers such as Chabrier and Fauré. The last eight years have seen her gradually recording the complete Beethoven piano sonatas. This is the first disc in that series I have heard, and it is just terrific. In this program, Hewitt brings together the sunniest of the late sonatas (No 28, Op 101), the wittiest of the middle period sonatas (No 18: Op 31, No 3) and the rarely played Sonata No 11, Op 27. Without going to inappropriate extremes, she relishes dynamic contrasts and pays attention to detail with unfailing subtlety –yet, far from sounding studied, her playing retains a sense of spontaneity. Take the Allegro finale of the A Major sonata: Switching unexpectedly from exuberance to tenderness, intimate one moment and forthright the next, Hewitt makes it sound like a brilliant improvisation. Hewitt’s thoughtful, responsive performance of Sonata No 11 makes one wonder why the piece is not more popular (competition is fierce among the Beethoven sonatas, admittedly!) The first and third movements show us the composer in a playful mood, handling musical motifs like a juggler, while the second movement…

American indie rock band guitarist Bryce Dessner’s debut classical recording comes with excellent credentials. Dessner is a Yale graduate who studied classical guitar, flute and composition and who has worked with some of the best in the business including Reich, Glass and David Lang. While his style leans towards a minimalist aesthetic he’s open to and range of influences, from early music through to rock and pop. Aheym – “homeward” in Yiddish – immediately grabs the ear with its sharp, unanimous rhythms before opening out into hypnotic ostinati and a multitude of dazzling timbres and colours. Little Blue Something is more restrained, intimate, even melancholy. Tenebre takes its inspiration from the Holy Week office of tenebrae, for which Renaissance composers in particular wrote such dazzling music. Dessner achieves extraordinary sonic effects here, with ghostly passages recalling the sound of a glass harmonica. This is aural chiaroscuro at its most compelling, made even more so by a multi-tracked Kronos Quartet (times three) and vocalist Sufjan Stevens (times eight). Dessner himself appears as guitarist on Tour Eiffel, which was commissioned by the Brooklyn Youth Chorus. This is exciting, visceral and at times deeply moving music, with a thorough awareness of the interplay…

This remarkable ballet could be seen as the beginning of contemporary dance, so unusual and challenging was the work not only in its music, but in choreography and design.Stravinsky was arguably the most influential composer of the 20th Century. He burst upon the world around the same time as the serialists were preaching their new religion in Vienna. At this distance, we can see that Stravinsky and his descendants have won that culture war handsomely and Firebird has been performed and recorded countless time since.  This new recording was made from live performances in the Sydney Opera House and the SSO has its work cut out to find a place among the dozens of other excellent recordings currently available. The shadow of the remarkable recording made 50 years ago by Antal Doráti and the LSO, and Bernstein’s brilliant reading from 1985, hangs over all later recordings. The SSO’s recorded sound is good, although there is some background noise in the quieter passages. Leader, Michael Dauth’s solos are beautiful and fit the ravishing music well. I was generally happy with the performance until we got to the demanding Infernal Dance of Kaschei, one of the show pieces in the work. Here the…

Concerto Armonico is a period instrument ensemble, which like its director the harpsichordist Miklós Spányi, came out of Budapest’s Franz Liszt Academy, where it was formed in 1983. Joined here by co-founder Péter Szu˝ts and keyboardists Tamás Szekendy and Cristiano Holtz, it performs Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach’s three innovative works for two keyboards and orchestra. This is the 20th and final volume in a highly acclaimed survey of the complete keyboard concertos of CPE Bach (1714-88), and provides a fitting end to such an endeavor in this 300th birthday year of the composer. Throughout, the performances are first-rate, exhibiting the same energy and razor-sharp precision which characterizes those of previous volumes. The program, in which Márta Ábrahám leads an orchestra variously comprising strings, flutes, oboes, horns, trumpets and timpani, opens with one of the last works Bach wrote, the Concerto in E Flat for harpsichord and fortepiano (1788). Here Spányi uses a swell device to muffle his harpsichord so as not to overpower Szekendy’s silvery-toned 1798 Broadwood, and the results are magical. Though this is less a witty, sparkling interplay between two equals than a conversation that rises above the pleasant din of the orchestra and is occasionally interrupted by…

Sixty years on and Benjamin Britten’s The Turn Of The Screw, based on Henry James’s “eerie and scary” ghost novella, is still as taut and dramatically intriguing as ever. The ambiguities and questions still remain for many: Does the Governess actually witness the spirits of sexual predator Peter Quint and his equally possessive offsider Miss Jessel working their evil on her two young charges Miles and Flora or is it all her own deranged fantasy? Whatever you decide – or even if you want to decide – the plot is as powerful as ever, aided by Britten’s sparse and evocative orchestration and Myfanwy Piper’s concise, erotically charged libretto. The use of 16 variations on a theme, which with its rising and falling tonal patterns resembles a threaded screw is a master-stroke. It drives the action along without pause through the prologue and two acts and you don’t need to watch this ever-tightening drama to be snared, as the London Symphony Orchestra’s new two-disc set on its LSO Live label eloquently attests. Recorded at the Barbican last year, conductor Richard Farnes, his 17 musicians and an exceptional cast never let the tension lag throughout the two hours. English tenor Andrew Kennedy…

The first wave of beauty washes over you 44 seconds in. Those dreamy, breathy flutes! The second wave hits at 3 minutes as two siren-like sopranos (of the sailor-luring rather than the whining ambulance variety) echo each other beguilingly. I don’t like to be a quick-draw with words like ‘ravishing’ and ‘beguilingly’, but I see no way around it for Cappella Mediterranea, the Spanish ensemble that has now brought back two works by Michelangelo Favletti (1642-1692) to see the light of day.  The Calabrian composer and priest was Maestro di cappella in Palermo before relocating to Messina in Sicily while the city was under Spanish rule, which accounts for the exotic touches of kaval, galoubet pipes, haunting duduk, and bass chalumeau that enrich this premiere recording. This six-voice dialoghi oratorio was composed in 1683. Falvetti draws on the Book of Daniel to relate the story of the three youths condemned by King Nebuchadnezzar to be thrown into a fiery furnace for refusing to worship an idol. There are so many splendid moments one wonders why most of Falvetti’s output was itself consigned to the proverbial flames. From the orchestral prologue’s evocation of the flow of the river Euphrates, to the…