It is now six years since aficionados of the classic Broadway musical mourned the tragically early death of John McGlinn, who did such exhaustive work creating definitive recordings with authentic orchestrations and vocal arrangements. We can thank EMI (now Warner Classics) for signing John Wilson who has continued in the tradition but with a focus on the film musical.  The first two albums, That’s Entertainment and Rodgers and Hammerstein at the Movies, were delightful romps and this latest is likewise. Wilsons’ reconstructions of the souped-up Hollywood orchestrations are delivered by his hand-picked band in period style with swoopy strings and fruity saxes, but with just enough British reserve to avoid going over-the-top in glitz; one can still visualise a knowing campy twinkle in the eye.  His casting of singers is impeccable; genuine Broadway style voices with no nasty modern pop-vocalist mannerisms or plum-in-the-gob operatic diction – oh, how nice it is to hear every delicious Porter lyric clearly enunciated in a natural idiomatic style.   Most of the program is from the 1950s, so the opening number from Silk Stockings makes an apt curtain raiser as a paean to the technological innovations of that decade with Anna-Jane Casey and Matthew…

Riccardo Chailly’s way with Mahler is a known quantity thanks to his superb CD cycle with the Royal Concertgebouw, probably the most recommendable complete set with magnificent orchestral playing and stunning sound. He occupies a pragmatic middle ground between the two schools of Mahler style; the classically restrained, if sometimes dull, with the emphasis on structural logic versus the wildly emotive, if self-indulgent, with live-for the-moment thrills and spills. His acute ear for sonority reflects his progressive tendencies but his old school operatic training is evident with his projection of a singing line and careful dramatic pacing. Since moving to Leipzig he seems to have refined his approach to suit the different character of his orchestra with its dark hued strings, mittel-Europa wind timbres and gleaming brass. The mark of a great orchestra is the quality and focus of playing at the lowest dynamic levels – listen to the closing moments of the Adagietto; the strings fading to the merest whisper yet still perfectly blended together like a delicate silken thread. Chailly’s ability to clarify telling details is typified by the empty rattle of hard-stick timpani strokes in the opening funeral march that are so often lost in the mix….

For long regarded as a lower grade symphonist by sniffy critics of the past, Robert Schumann’s orchestral output has been reassessed thanks to illuminating period aware performances that have aerated his supposedly thick orchestration and revealed a timbral spectrum that was obscured by the overlay of late-19th-century orchestral technique. Conductors on the traditional side have overcome problems with textual tampering while revelling in the weighty sound at their disposal, so it’s no surprise that Sir Simon Rattle chooses to sit on that particular fence considering the character of his orchestral forces. Despite the essay espousing the Berliner Philharmoniker’s long tradition of Schumann performance, today’s orchestra sounds very different to earlier incarnations with a vibrant transparency and a responsive flexibility that allows the ensemble to turn on a dime – a long way from the luxurious juggernaut of yesteryear.  The string sound, while still luxuriant, is exquisitely focused and supple while the wind section is predictably magnificent, boasting starry names such as Emmanuel Pahud and Albrecht Mayer. Symphonies 1 & 4 (here in its original 1841 form) inhabit a Mendelssohnian sound world that suits Rattle’s approach and for me the fourth symphony is the standout performance of the… Continue reading Get…

This program was the opening concert of the 2013 Lucerne Festival and Abbado would die a few months later. It is an intensely moving memorial. For conducting students this is a lesson in economy of means as his frail state dictated that he achieve so much with so little effort. His beloved “hand-picked” orchestra respond to his slightest gesture; what an extraordinary ensemble they are – a hyper-attentive giant chamber group all listening to one another, shaping phrases with love and care.  The Schoenberg is a treat with two extracts from Gurrelieder; the Orchestral Interlude with its luscious ultra-Tristanesque harmonies and soaring Tove melody, and the Song of the Wood Dove sung by the lovely Mihoko Fujimura who inhabits the role.   The main work is the Eroica Symphony and may divide opinion; some may consider the tempi too broad in the grand old manner but I was captivated. This was a loving performance crafted from years of experience and deep wisdom with phrases floating weightlessly and moments of breathtaking stasis and innigkeit. There is some exquisitely beautiful playing here such as that by oboist Lucas Macias Navarro. It is rare to hear such finely graduated dynamics and perfectly balanced…

Arcangelo Corelli was a surprisingly un-prolific composer; his reputation and influence was out of all proportion to the quantity of his output but it was a case of “never mind the length, feel the quality”. His prodigious melodic invention with virtuosic flourishes and sensuous harmonic progressions are like a Bernini marble rendered in sound and his own playing made him the reigning superstar of the day and the darling of the Roman courts. The bulk of his work are the four dozen trio sonatas which set the mould for later composers, yet we have had surprisingly few good recordings in this flourishing era of Baroque-mania.  This set of the Church Sonatas is a follow up to The Avison Ensemble’s set of Chamber Sonatas released last year and completes their much-welcome survey of Corelli’s complete published works. This excellent group of veterans of the British early music scene led by Pavlo Beznosiuk deliver refined performances. The continuo is varied and colourful with cello supported by harpsichord, organ and archlute, yet is not distractingly busy and the two violinists, while lean-toned, blend nicely with impeccable intonation and transparent textures that allow the interplay of Corelli’s part writing to come through clearly without…

Riccardo Chailly’s way with Mahler is a known quantity thanks to his superb CD cycle with the Royal Concertgebouw, probably the most recommendable complete set with magnificent orchestral playing and stunning sound. He occupies a pragmatic middle ground between the two schools of Mahler style; the classically restrained, if sometimes dull, with the emphasis on structural logic versus the wildly emotive, if self-indulgent, with live-for the-moment thrills and spills. His acute ear for sonority reflects his progressive tendencies but his old school operatic training is evident with his projection of a singing line and careful dramatic pacing. Since moving to Leipzig he seems to have refined his approach to suit the different character of his orchestra with its dark hued strings, mittel-Europa wind timbres and gleaming brass.  The mark of a great orchestra is the quality and focus of playing at the lowest dynamic levels – listen to the closing moments of the Adagietto; the strings fading to the merest whisper yet still perfectly blended together like a delicate silken thread. Chailly’s ability to clarify telling details is typified by the empty rattle of hard-stick timpani strokes in the opening funeral march that are so often lost in the mix….

Zoltán Kodály’s reputation as a composer has usually taken a back seat to his ethnomusicology and pedagogical innovations, so although his music may lack the searching modernist abstraction of his colleague Bartók, it compensates with an authentic piquant flavour. These quartets are early works but Kodály’s character already comes through even in the first quartet where his Parisian training is obvious in the harmonic language – the melodic shapes and rhythms clearly hail from the Hungarian plain. It’s a lengthy work with weighty aspirations that doesn’t always convince but its Presto is a fun turn. The second quartet is a concise, pithy work with a more intense demeanour. Each of its three movements has a distinct flavour profile and pays off with an exciting finale full of stamping folk rhythms alternating with mysterious “night music” episodes; this is a work that should be programmed more often. Sandwiched between are two miniatures; an attractive Intermezzo for string trio and a quirky little Gavotte from 1952. The Dante Quartet play with warm devotion and a vehement intensity bolstered by technical security. Forget about national stereotypes; their bold attack and wide tonal palette allow them to sound “to the manner born” and there…

Bach’s Goldberg Variations has become a piece of cultural capital, used as a prop for intellectual pretensions, and with so many recordings available I must admit to a grumpy scowl as I loaded this disc into my player. Here we go again, another pianist thinks the world needs to hear his thoughts on this venerable masterpiece, this had better be good.  Press play and the Aria is elegant and straightforward, Var I is crisp and playful – good so far. As the disc went on a smile spread from ear to ear – this is rather special, you know. Denk’s limpid tone and judicious pedalling maintains clarity while his architectural grasp integrates each variation into a grand plan while characterising each with a specific mood and attitude. He sees patterns where others merely see notes. Voices move forward and back by way of subtle lighting effects rather than glaring follow-spots; the descending chromatic bass at the beginning of Var XXI is tinted with a darker baritonal colour on the repeat – classy! The fughetta of Var X is stern but not hectoring; indeed Denk never makes an ugly sound and doesn’t peck.  There are sensual delights such as his gleaming touch…

David Robertson’s interpretation of Stravinsky's ballet is a fine one in conception if compromised in execution.

Hearing Beethoven’s piano works played on instruments he would have known was an exciting novelty 40 years ago thanks to the early experiments by Paul Badura-Skoda and Jörg Demus (on not-terribly-well restored Conrad Grafs and Broadwoods), which despite their jangling tone and rattly action gave us the startling revelation of the true “una corda” pedal and the sensation of the wild composer-pianist stretching the possibilities of the instrument to near breaking point.  Thanks to the advances in sensitive restoration, and some marvellous craftsmen building impeccable copies, we now have more sense of the peculiar characteristic beauties that were lost in the search for improvements in volume and evenly graduated tone while the more polished results carry their own musical validity.  Ronald Brautigam has proven this with his marvellous survey of the complete works played on superb sounding copies by Paul McNulty. With the masterworks now all dealt with we are coming to the fag end of the series, but there are still plenty of delights revealed in fresh colours and the particular tonal qualities and domestic nature of the fortepiano elevates the most slight of Beethoven’s scribblings. This volume might seem a mere completist appendix but makes a delightful 68-minute…

In the same month as this disc was recorded Harmonia Mundi were adding the finishing touches to an eagerly awaited complete recording of the Beethoven Piano Trios by Trio Wanderer – a magnificent achievement that went straight to the top of the list of complete sets. Apart from explaining the delay issuing the disc under review, I wonder whether the conflict of repertoire influenced the decision to record in period style with an original fortepiano or if it was a purely artistic decision, either way I’m not sure the choice was 100% right.  Now don’t get me wrong, I am not averse to period instrument performance in this repertoire and the players here are three of the finest of their generation. A few years ago Melnikov and Faust recorded a stunning set of Beethoven’s Violin Sonatas on modern instruments, performed with incredible expressive intensity and hyper-alert intelligence, with Melnikov’s transcendental virtuosity allowing him free reign to colour and shape each note. Here his voice is muted by the dynamic restrictions of the fortepiano and one gets a sense that Faust and Queyras are constantly having to pull back to blend. That said, the fortepiano, a restored Alois Graf from 1828,…

Gounod’s Faust is the sort of opera that gives the genre a bad name. Its libretto is based on a play that takes Part 1 of Goethe’s original mystical morality tale and encrusts it with dowdy Victoriana and shifts the focus to the tortures inflicted on poor Marguerite whose eventual redemption hardly seems a fair consolation in today’s secular world; the lovely music coats a bitter pill that takes quite an effort to swallow.  Des McAnuff’s production attempts to restore some of the original’s dramatic gravitas by shifting the opening scene to the Los Alamos laboratories with Faust as a tortured atomic scientist. The arresting imagery during the overture gave an initial frisson so I looked forward to further clever analogies but apart from the obvious effects during the Walpurgisnacht they failed to materialise so the concept proved to be only half-baked. There were other fine visual moments such as the giant project images of Marguerite’s face but the unit set of Faust’s laboratory didn’t seem to be used to its full potential and my attention wandered.  Musically however, one couldn’t ask for more with a splendid cast of singing actors doing their best to sell the piece. Kaufmann is…