Ravel is often described as an Impressionist. While this is an erroneous label overall, he is at his most impressionistic in the piano cycles Miroirs and Gaspard de la nuit. There are two schools of Ravel pianists: those who create a dreamy, soft-centred sound picture (usually old-school, like Walter Gieseking) and those who seek
out the sharp edges and go for clarity like Alexandre Tharaud. The young Russian Anna Vinnitskaya amalgamates both worlds. In her reading of Une barque sur 
l’océan from Miroirs, the opening arpeggios have a chiseled quality – no blurry wash here – yet her subtle way of emphasising single notes in the right hand suggests sparkles 
of sunlight on the water. Similarly in Noctuelles, Ravel’s depiction of moths at night, Vinnitskaya vividly plots the haphazard flight of these nocturnal creatures. She is less successful at evoking humans. Her Alborada del grazioso is too brisk to capture the braggadocio character of the serenade. It is highly impressive as pianism, as is her Scarbo from Gaspard de la nuit, but the latter reading underplays the piece’s unique grotesquerie. On the basis of her nuanced performance of the Pavane, I rather wish she had ditched Gaspard and recorded Le Tombeau…

The salons of 19th-century Vienna come dancing back to life in this collection of vocal duets, trios
 and quartets, written for the famous Schubertiades, many of which, while he lived, boasted the composer himself at the piano. Lovers of the dark, complex Schubert of Winterreise will look in vain for him here; this is, for the most part, light and undemanding fare, meant more to entertain than to penetrate the soul. A sprightly vocal quartet enters heartily into the spirit of the thing, sympathetically balanced voices separately and together. Marlis Petersen’s glistening soprano sits sweetly atop the ensemble, while Anke Vondung sings with a soulful glow which keeps her sometimes sugary music from cloying: the strophic, sentimental Die Unterscheidung is a notable example. Tenor Werner Güra can’t quite match the ladies for beauty of tone, but his forthright, if slightly grainy tone blends touchingly with Vondung’s in Licht und Liebe, the lilting duet from which the album takes its title, and both he and bass Konrad Jarnot make colourful turns in the amorous wranglings of Der Hochzeitsbraten, a comic, almost Mozartian scene which also features a delightfully soubrettish Petersen as the love interest. The disc concludes with a series of…

I was impressed with the whimsicality Alice Sara Ott displayed in early Beethoven on a disc I reviewed last year, so I was surprised by her ponderous approach to Pictures from an Exhibition. Several of Mussorgsky’s impressions of his artist friend Hartmann’s work have a scherzando quality: the children playing at the Tuileries garden, the bustling market place at Limoges, and of course the ballet of the unhatched chicks. Ott’s pianism is meticulous and well prepared however some careful tempos and overemphatic dynamics rob her performance of character. She stretches out The Great Gate at Kiev considerably and, generally speaking, she fails to treat these pictures with enough visual imagination. As this is a live performance from the Mariinsky Theatre in St Petersburg it is quite possible that Ott needed to project and underline the music more than she would in a recording studio. Even so, it’s bad luck for her that a performance by Stephen Osbourne recently appeared on Hyperion that supplies some of the telling detail and subtlety that Ott misses, and I would recommend his in preference to this one. The unusual coupling of Schubert’s Piano Sonata Op 53 is more successful. Here Ott’s poise is an…

Perennially young at heart, the ACO has 
just the right touch with these two works written while Mendelssohn was in his teenage years.

Osmo Vänskä’s “trim, taut and terrific” approach to Sibelius survives into his second cycle where the First Symphony, at just 34 minutes, almost manages to efface completely the traditional Tchaikovskian breadth. Fortunately, we still hear plenty of harp throughout, especially in my favourite passage, the exquisitely delicate section of the slow movement where the woodwinds and triangle are quite magic. If symphonies were people, Sibelius’s Fourth would be the ultimate anti-hero. Here, tempi
 are much more conventional
 and Vänskä moulds the music superbly in the opening movement where the fusion of bleakness and inscrutability as they materialise out of Stygian gloom is strangely beautiful and moving. The second- movement Scherzo peters out in a strange, almost sinister, ellipsis, but it is in the slow movement – the emotional core of the work – where the particles simply stop vibrating as the temperature reaches absolute zero and Vänskä plumbs the depths with the best of them. In the final movement Sibelius, seemingly perversely, introduces glockenspiel and tubular bells, of all instruments. Most conductors opt for one or the other. (In one recording, Ormandy uses both,
 but not together.) Vänskä, wisely I think, uses the former, as tubular bells always sound to……

It seems apt to be listening to jazz singer-songwriter Nicola Milan at this time of year. As the mercury drops, her second studio album Forbidden Moments begs to be enjoyed on a lazy Sunday afternoon, glass of red in hand. Produced with a $9,765 grant awarded by Arts WA and the Department of Culture, these ten original pieces move between bluesy swing, Latin, and folk to convey the emotional versatility and complexities of a talented and promising songstress. A WAAPA graduate and award winning songwriter, Milan’s vocals are warm, effortless and chocolaty, and occasionally spiked with a hint of something stronger. The Scent of Her Perfume is pure drama. Sensual and passionate, Milan’s voice flirts with violinist Ashley Arbuckle’s sexy melodic passages in this bold tango. Arbuckle, former co-leader of the London Symphony Orchestra is joined by a series of distinguished jazz musicians including double bassist Pete Jeavons, guitarist Rick Webster and drummer Michael Perkins. Together they form a tight ensemble and Milan provides ample opportunities for each performer to shine. Their experience shows. The final track on the album, Latin inspired The Lonely Flute, brilliantly showcases flautist and saxophonist Michael Collinson, and pianist and accordionist Ben Clarke – a……

Joaquin Turina took on the advice as well as the example of his older compatriots Albeníz and Falla, and wrote works influenced by the fiery gypsy music of Andalusia. His output consists mainly of piano music, songs, chamber music and a handful of dazzling orchestral works which show him to be second only to Ravel in orchestral wizardry. In all the music on this well-filled disc you will hear a style of Impressionism that is not cool and misty but ablaze with heat and light. The BBC Philharmonic relish Turina’s textures under Mena’s idiomatic direction, and typically rich Chandos sound is everything one could wish. This is well worth collecting alongside Mena’s previous discs of music by Falla and Montsalvatge. If I have a quibble, perhaps a degree of earthiness is missing in these lush performances. In the Danzas Fantásticas some of Mena’s predecessors point more clearly to the gypsy origins. Try the
old Ansermet/Suisse Romande recording on Eloquence to hear what I mean. Clara Mouritz’s vibrant mezzo- soprano voice is perfect for the heartfelt Saeta, but I feel the five Poema en forma de canciones lie too high for her. A true soprano is needed, the likes of Los Angeles,…

Just as flamenco guitarists Paco Peña and Paco di Lucía have stretched the boundaries of what constitutes flamenco, so too does Barcelona-born José Luis Montón draw on “new characters in the alphabet of flamenco” in his inspired, impassioned creations, while introducing a few of his own. As Montón writes in his brief booklet note: “In this music I have tried to translate all the sincerity and love of art that I appreciate so much when I encounter it.” Thus most of the pieces start
from a traditional base – bulería, tango, soleá, seguirilla and so forth – before pushing off from the shore in search of new horizons. Works such as the opening Rota (farruca) and the percussive Al oído (cantiñas) combine sweetly ornamented melodies with flurries of punteado and machine-gun bursts of rasgueado, while rhythms and harmonies take unexpected twists and turns. One of the biggest, and most enjoyable, of those twists is Montón’s beautiful, flamenco- inflected arrangement of JS Bach’s Air from the Orchestral Suite No 3 in D. Here, as in many other pieces on this recording, the main melody sneaks up on you amid a fresh, lyrical introduction. Other highlights include the intense Altolaguirre (tango), the exciting……

One feels that it’s very much the pianist’s hand on the throttle of Weber’s ghost train, plunging ahead one moment, the next, pulling back.

She’s playing the Elgar Cello Concerto with the husband of the woman who made the greatest-ever recording of it; she’s already won a “Genius” award from the MacArthur Foundation, and she’s got Decca hailing her as its first solo cellist signing in more than three decades. Lots of hype to live up to there, and Alisa Weilerstein seems on a hiding-to-nothing when the inevitable comparisons are made with Jacqueline duPré. What
the conspicuously intelligent American has going for her is a prodigious talent that’s been
recognised ever since she made
her concert debut with Cleveland
Orchestra nearly two decades ago.
That, and a commercial point-of-difference
in programming, with the immortal Elgar coupled implausibly with Elliott Carter’s Cello Concerto, and then the bitter pill’s sugar- coating of Bruch’s Kol Nidrei. But Weilerstein is known for her interest
in contemporary music, and Carter’s Cello Concerto, filled with slap-pizzicato and spiky orchestral explosions, is one of the few works by the American composer’s-composer that has crossed over successfully into the popular concert hall. And strange as it may sound given the beloved warhorse company that it keeps, this boots-and-all recording of it is the highlight of an impressive CD which leaves the brain stimulated but the emotions strangely unengaged. In…

Academic and composer Stevie Wishart has edited and recorded the complete works of the recently beatified 12th-century mystic and composer Abbess Hildegard of Bingen over the last 20 years. She collaborates here with electronica producer Guy Sigsworth on a “creative re-imagining of a choral evensong”. Released with an eye on the crossover/new age audience, the disc may make purists recoil in horror but Wishart has never been afraid to allow some creative license in her interpretation of the melismatic neumes. Most of the content of this album features unadorned monodic chant performed by the six pure but characterful voices of Sinfonye, interspersed with Wishart’s tasteful reworkings “alio modo” (another way). One of Wishart’s original compositions, a particularly impressive polyphonic setting of the Magnificat, turns out to be the highlight of the disc, showing off the expressive range of the ensemble to better effect than the restrained chanting nun material surrounding it – indeed, I wished for more of this sort of polyphonic elaboration throughout. Some of the instrumental contributions come perilously close to 1970s folk/rock doodlings. And beware of two tracks where the producer has been allowed his head; Azeruz and ZuuenZ – generic ambient electronic soundscapes more appropriate for…

The image of heavyweight composer and patriarchal guardian of a decaying romantic tradition makes it easy to forget that Brahms started out as a virtuoso concert pianist. It is equally easy to forget that his third and final sonata, for his own instrument, was completed at the ridiculously precocious age of 20 (during a sojourn with his new friends Robert and Clara Schumann). From then on it was as if he had said all that he wanted to say in the genre, and his large scale piano compositions were henceforth confined to sets of variations – those on themes of Paganini and Handel being the most substantial. For his ambitious (and auspicious) debut on the BIS label, the British pianist Jonathan Plowright exhibits a prodigious musical appetite, tackling the meaty Third Sonata for his main course with the Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel making for a rich and sumptuous dessert. The sonata again confounds any expectations you might have of Brahms as a structural conservative, being cast in no less than five contrasting movements, linked with a recognisably Beethovian thematic motto. It receives a carefully considered yet intensely dramatised reading, more tempestuous in approach than, say Radu…