Reviews in September 1998

Category: Orchestral - 20^th-century 

Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957) wrote an undeniably beautiful violin concerto near the end of the Second World War, despite its conservative language and intemperately debonair veneer. He had left his native Austria in 1934 for the United States and taken up permanent residence in California, where he launched a successful career writing film scores. The concerto is based on themes he used in four such cinematic efforts, themes whose new guise hardly masked the air of a splashy, saccharine Hollywood, with images of Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland, of sweet romance and cliff-hanger heroism. Not that the work is weak, mind you--it’s well-crafted, tuneful and virtuosic. Still, it’s nowhere near the level of inspiration found in the other two works offered here. Chantal Juillet plays the concerto with utter commitment and meets every technical demand with seeming ease. I recently reviewed the Mathé/Litton performance on Dorian, where the violinist’s tone sounded a bit harsh at times. Juillet is clearly preferable to my ear.

Kurt Weill (1900-1950) composed his Schoenberg-flavored violin concerto in 1924. I don’t mean to suggest it’s a twelve tone product: Schoenberg himself was still composing his 5 Piano Pieces (Op. 23) at the time, the first work where he fully employed his new technique. Still, Weill’s orchestration and harmonies suggest the Second Vienna School; but where Schoenberg is generally dead-serious, Weill is here humorous and morose, often mixing the two together as if they were indistinguishable. When a theme appears in the first movement at 2:25 (track 4) that sounds like a close cousin of the "dies irae", one wonders if it’s parodistic or serious. I’ll vote for parody, or at least for humor. The second movement presciently invokes early Shostakovich, whose first serious composition, the Symphony No. 1, hadn’t yet been composed. Here the humor and fun are obvious. The finale is a kind of hodgepodge: muscular and dry at the outset, swooning and nearly songful in the middle, and rambunctiously spirited at the close. Chantal Juillet turns on the acid a bit and adroitly captures Weill’s darkness and dark humor. If she can so sweetly deliver the Korngold, then turn grim and deliciously sour in the Weill, her interpretive range is imposingly wide, indeed.

The concerto by Ernst Krenek (1900-1991) is the most dour-sounding work by far here. It is, however, not without its moments of peaceful, even beautiful, repose: the middle section of the opening movement is rather tender and soaring, if a bit tense harmonically. This 1924 work is slightly more compact than its disc mates, lasting just over twenty minutes. Again, the influence here is Schoenberg, but, as with Weill, it is not a dominating factor throughout the piece. The first movement is fraught with tension, but counterbalanced by a feeling of hope. The following Adagio is dark and mysterious, and offers a cadenza of considerable virtuosity and expressive depth. The finale begins eerily and quickly becomes intense and driven, but, in its quiet, puzzling ending, does not offer a resolution to the grim issues the work raises. Again Juillet is right on target in this great piece. It must be said that John Mauceri abets her with consistently insightful accompaniment and must take equal credit for these excellent performances.

London’s "Entartete" series, by the way, features music suppressed by the Nazis, or music by composers displaced by them. It is a godsend, with a treasure trove of masterful compositions previously neglected. The sound and notes on this release are excellent. In sum, this is a fascinating issue.

This disc presents "lieder", or songs, by the most famous husband-and-wife team in the history of classical music, Robert and Clara Schumann. Robert was the greater composer, of course, and Clara the greater pianist, one of the leading virtuosos of her time, in fact. Robert went insane and died prematurely, and Clara, it is said, went on to have a relationship of sorts with Brahms, though the two never married. Both Robert and Clara wrote some quite attractive songs, which Soprano Barbara Bonney delivers with a generally light approach, and quite successfully.

Robert Schumann’s Frauenliebe und -leben (A Woman’s life and love) is the most masterful complete collection here and among the most popular lieder cycles. Bonney, with tempos generally on the brisk side, renders the songs with poignancy (Susser Freund, du blickest), buoyancy (An Meinem Herzen, an Meiner Brust) and proud fervor (Er, der Herrlichste von allen). Her performances were so convincing that I felt compelled to reach for my Jessye Norman/Philips recording for comparison. Norman is darker, more probing and profound, and, some would say, more fitting to the music. But Bonney is good in her own right. Her voice is positively angelic, never thickening and turning mezzo-ish, as sometimes happens to Norman (in Du Ring an meinem Finger, for example). And Bonney’s phrasing and technique are absolutely superb.

In the other repertory here, she’s just as impressive. Her performance of Clara’s Er ist gekommen in Sturm und Regen is compelling, capturing its anxiety and sense of lost love. In Clara’s Der Mond kommt still gegangen she mesmerizes the ear with nocturnal dreaminess, while in Robert’s Widmung she fully catches the bliss and ecstasy. The whole recital is beautiful and reveals Clara to be a better composer than many might think.

The ubiquitous and indefatigable Vladimir Ashkenazy partners Bonney with consummate artistry in every respect. London provides excellent sound, good notes and full texts. A most enjoyable disc, and a must for those interested in lieder.

In this very fine 2-CD compilation of piano works, we are treated to the musical insights of a keenly intelligent Lisztian interpreter in Stephen Hough. He is superbly in control all the time --- while displaying amply his considerable virtuosity, he at the same time reminds us that there is more to Liszt than mere surface pyrotechnics. In fact, his playing can probably be likened to Bolet's with more excitement.

The recital starts, appropriately enough, with the fiendish sounding Mephisto Waltz. The reading of this very difficult work is thrillingly limpid, with a quality of spontaneity and effortlessness that makes it compelling. I felt that Hough could have put in a little more fire into the work, but his more moderate approach is far preferable to effete performances that make a parody of this work. The Tarantella is a delightful and playful romp, with Hough charming us with his impeccable and dazzling playing that magically conveys the multi-hued and romantic mood of this rarely-heard work. The fiery and brilliant Rhapsodie Espagnole could hardly have been better played, reminding me of Perahia's very fine version on Sony. Hough is flamboyant here, and plays with great panache and elegance, giving us a colorful yet thoughtful performance.

The next work, with the obscure and morbid title of Pensée des morts, is a hauntingly introspective work that sounds so unlike Liszt, and this piece allows Hough to play with great sadness and tender beauty. It is a pity (to me, at least) that the rest of the recital is devoted to weightier Lizstian works with somber overtones. Nevertheless, to those who are interested in these works, you may be assured that these are tremendously distinguished readings, and are eminently recommendable. As I've mentioned before, Hough not only possesses a formidable keyboard technique but he also shows great intelligence and artistic discernment. These qualities are apparent in the way Hough searchingly brings us through the more religiously centered of Liszt's works. Listen to the funereal monotony of Aux cyprès de la Villa d'Este, the soaring ethereal quality of Les jeux d'eau a while later, and the drama and intensity of La Lugubre gondola.

All in all, this is an outstanding disc from an outstanding artiste. The playing is splendid, and the sound is atmospheric yet not too close. However, the repertoire might be a little heavy and 'serious' for some and this might be a deterring factor.

In my opinion, this present recording combines the best characteristics of all these schools of interpretation of this popular work. Besides adding brilliance to the choral writing, the Tobin edition does not make any other radical changes. The 100-strong Chicago Symphony Chorus are glorious in the great choruses, with the Hallelujah given the most viscerally thrilling reading I have ever heard. The concluding Amen has a touch of pure magic in it - an indescribable aura that elevates it to classic status, giving a sense that there was something very special going on in the studio on that day. The orchestra (about 40 in number) has a fine American sheen, holding their own against period ensembles such as Trevor Pinnock's English Concert and Sir John Eliot Gardiner's English Baroque Soloists. The contrapuntal Overture and the "other" Pastoral Sinfonia are given readings that are weighty and fleet at the same time.

Perhaps the crowning glory is the team of starry soloists chosen by maestro Solti. Dame Kiri is superbly virtuosic throughout, and is at the height of her powers. Rejoice Greatly is amazingly swift and dazzling in its coloratura. Anne Gjevang has been described by some as "matronly". Perhaps few listeners have heard a true contralto voice, with such exceptional depth of tone. A mezzo cannot hope to match up to this reading of O thou that tellest. Keith Lewis is, as always, very fine indeed - though not as heroic as Anthony Rolfe Johnson (Gardiner/Philips). Gwynne Howell is simply magnificent, an unparalleled dramatic bass voice with fabulous intonation.

Adolph Herseth is the exemplary solo trumpeter in The trumpet shall sound; and the harpsichord, played by David Schrader, is clearly audible throughout.

This version has the advantage of being on 2 digitally-recorded CDs, which gives it quite a competitive edge. Even in such a flooded market, I would recommend this version above all others. I qualify my recommendation with a warning: there are so many versions and revisions, that the purist cannot assume that any one recording is what Handel envisioned. If pressed, the alternatives I could live with are lead by: Sir John Eliot Gardiner (Philips), Paul McCreesh (Archiv) and Sir Colin Davis' second recording in Munich (Philips).

Do not be surprised if you have never heard the name of Michel Block before. This is the first time I've heard him play and there are some surprising felicities in store for those who are hearing this pianist for the first time. Block is born of French parents but moved to Mexico in his childhood. He studied at the Julliard School of Music and in one of the most famous of all piano competition incidents, Block won The Artur Rubinstein Prize in Warsaw at the 1960 Frédéric Chopin International Competition. Mr Rubinstein was displeased with the jury's verdict and invented the prize on the spot, and personally made the award to Block.

Block has appeared with the world's great orchestras and conductors and made numerous recordings, many of which have been deleted. This is not surprising since he stopped pursuing his pianistic career since 1978, when he chose to teach music at Indiana University.

Many of the pieces on this disc are somewhat pensive and meditative works and I suspect that Block chose them because they fit his temperament and forte. The Bach-Godowsky Andante is a lovely, pastoral work which Block plays with obvious gentleness and feeling. The simplicity of the work (and his playing) accentuates rather than diminishes the beauty of Bach's music. The winsome and wistful Brahms Intermezzi that follow this are no less charming. From the gentle lullaby of the A-flat Intermezzo, to the more intense and noble A minor counterpart, we perceive hushed concentration from Block, as he struggles to get to the nub of the music, to express what the he feels lies at the crux of the works.

We next come to the superb Nocturne No. 6 by Fauré. In this troubled and intimate work, with moods ranging from meditation to rapture, Block electrifies with a sensuous technique that appropriately captures the gossamer qualities of this work and is able to involve us in his emotional response to the work, something that only pianists of the very highest order aspire to. There are some more magical moments in the Scriabin Sonata-Fantasy. The turbulent agitation and moto perpetuo quality of the Presto (which sounds phenomenally difficult to play), which Block does full credit to, is telling testimony to the extraordinary virtuosity of a virtuoso who has not performed in nearly two decades.

The final works on this disc, the Chopin Mazurka and Polonaise-Fantasy, are naturally up to the very high standards set in the rest of this disc. Here is really aristocratic playing that delights not so much in tossing off passages of high technical difficulty, but we instead are treated to a keen and profound musical intelligence that unwraps each work lovingly so that we can be fully involved in the musical experience, not as passive spectators but as people amazed anew by Chopin's genius. I must say that Block has helped me to appreciate new beauties in Chopin that penetrates old cliches and stereotypes. All I can say that my limited musical vocabulary keeps me from doing full justice to Michel Block's playing.

This recording is a very delightful and precious gem. Piano playing of such dedication, of such distinguished quality and transcendental caliber should not be hidden from the world. Required listening.