An outstanding debut for spirited young guitarist, Zane Banks.

Were it not for those vastly entertaining orchestral works which form the composer’s Roman Triptych, we might know little more about him than we do about his less illustrious contemporaries Malipiero, Casella and Pizetti. Colourful explosions of orchestral brilliance such as The Fountains of Rome are what propelled the composer to public notice. What is most striking about the pieces on this CD is how unlike those famous works they are, in sound and style. In fact, apart from Rossiniana, which is reasonably well known, the other items on this album don’t sound like Respighi at all; nor do they sound particularly Italian. A good percentage of this music has been rescued by conductor Salvatore Di Vittorio, who is credited with completing some of the orchestrations. How much is down to him is difficult to ascertain from the notes. Clearly, he has reinvigorated works such as the Aria and Violin Concerto, completing the latter’s last movement – which the composer had barely begun. It is quite beautiful and well worth our attention, but don’t go expecting The Pines of Rome with violin obbligato. It is far more subdued and ruminative, and none the worse for that. The orchestral… Continue reading…

Christine Brewer is best known for her towering assumptions of Wagner and Richard Strauss’s most dramatic heroines. This charming new release by Hyperion finds the American soprano in a more intimate mode, however, paying tribute to the art of the recital encore as perfected by some of Brewer’s grandest predecessors – Kirsten Flagstad, Eileen Farrell, Helen Traubel and Eleanor Steber. Inspired by her teacher, who had heard all these ladies in recital and collected their encores, Brewer brings warmth and affection to this varied selection of final flourishes. These songs, with their sentimental lyrics and often predictable musical forms (you’ll see the crescendi coming a mile off), might be an acquired taste for some, but for others they’ll be heartwarmingly familiar, and Brewer’s golden soprano and good humour should be difficult for even hardened cynics to resist. A program like this risks being too much of a good thing – there’s a reason, after all, that these songs were used as encores and not core repertoire – but the innate heft of Brewer’s voice more or less counterbalances the repertoire’s most sugary excesses, and the selection strikes a balance between showpieces and simple ballads. Roger Vignoles… Continue reading Get unlimited…

Circumstances financial and personal forced Herbert Howells to turn from his early career as a well-regarded rival of Vaughan Williams and Holst to dedicate himself almost exclusively to church music. Here he could create without being exposed to the public gaze of the concert hall, which he found unbearable. His early orchestral compositions are splendid but rarely heard; on the other hand his contribution to the Anglican liturgy is one of the most significant in post-WWII Britain. The content of this attractive CD attests to this. From the 1940s when he was organist at St John’s College Oxford, he began a course of composition for the church in a style that endures to this day. The Winchester Service exemplifies this perfectly, the Magnificat moving quietly to exalted heights; the setting of the Nunc dimittis more darkly hued than usual. Two of his organ works are placed between the choral offerings. I find them less distinguished but they work well within the program. This selection is from the latter part of the composer’s life. It includes settings of Jubilate Deo, Te Deum, and Exultate Deo. The performances are sensitive and robust, in the best English tradition. To hear… Continue reading Get…

Ingrid Fliter is an impressive Argentinian pianist who recently toured Australia. Following two acclaimed Chopin discs, her new recital of three of Beethoven’s Sturm und Drang sonatas is also something of a winner. Fliter plays Beethoven with an appropriately Classical demeanour. She limits the dynamic extremes and does not overdo the rubato, but within that spectrum she points detail and gets the balance right. The opening of her Pathétique is slow without being solemn, then bracingly fleet once the Allegro begins. The lovely slow movement is meltingly played. Fliter transforms the stop/start passages of the Tempest sonata’s first movement into episodes of genuine urgency and repose. This is a gripping performance. The Appassionata poses a greater challenge, both emotionally and technically. In spite of her easy flowing pianism, which takes every technical hurdle in its stride, I fear Fliter often settles for a generalised sound here – big and loud, or slow and soft as the case may be –  whereas Paul Lewis, whose Appassionata is one the best recordings in his Beethoven survey, maps the emotional contours of this forward-looking work with unwavering focus, making something unique and specific of every moment. Continue reading Get unlimited digital access from $4 per…

I’ve always found Richard Strauss’s character a real mystery: a smug, rather banal bourgeois with a narcissistic streak, he wrote sublime music which itself often teeters on the edge of banality. I enjoyed this Heldenleben but, at 47 minutes, the hero, while not exactly an arthritic Colonel Blimp, isn’t a young buck full of rising sap, either. This is surprising, considering Yannick Nézet-Séguin is one of the most athletic conductors around today. The opening lacks the self-confident swagger that Beecham brought to it for EMI (at the age of 80). In the second movement, the “battle” rages effectively enough, although I can never escape the feeling that Mahler depicts his critics far more bitingly in the Rondo burlesque of his Ninth Symphony. Strauss’s wife Pauline, a granite-jawed termagant in real life, comes across relatively sympathetically in the extended (and ravishingly played) violin solo of the third movement. The ending, depicting the hero’s retrospective contemplation, is simply too slow, although the Rotterdam Philharmonic’s horns are glorious. The orchestra, which plays well throughout, also sounds very distant and was recorded at a curiously low level. I’d prefer any of Karajan’s readings, or Fritz Reiner’s legendary RCA one. The… Continue reading Get unlimited…

Argentinean cellist Sol Gabetta was named Gramophone Young Artist of the Year in 2010, but she had turned heads internationally as one to watch even before the release of the Vivaldi Project album in 2007, her first foray into Baroque music played on gut strings. On that recording she opted for the Italian group Sonatori de la Gioiosa Marca but for this second instalment she has formed her own Cappella Gabetta. Ensemble playing in the opening Cello Concerto RV423 is crisp and clean bordering on dispassionate, but the Cappella perks up for the taut unison introduction to the G minor RV416, and in the final Allegro Gabetta dashes off rapid virtuosic passages with brio and finesse. She is equally at ease with the gold-spun cantabile lines of the RV420 Andante. The bold Allegro doesn’t have the cracking pace of Han-Na Chang and the London Chamber Orchestra for EMI – as a result Gabetta’s intonation is more precise, her phrasing more subtle and expansive. The Sonata for Cello and Continuo RV42 breaks from the homogenous string orchestra sound for a sombre, more intimate setting, stylish and warm enough to leave me hoping for Gabetta’s Bach Cello Suites on… Continue reading Get…

The first thing I noticed was the spectacular fidelity of the recording and how beautifully the harp arpeggios are captured at the very beginning of Harold in Italy. One unique feature of this recording of Berlioz’s strange concertante work/tone-poem hybrid is the restoration of virtuosic passages in the first movement, expressly composed for the dedicatee, Paganini, and later suppressed by Berlioz (why has it taken so long for someone to restore them?). Carpenter’s tone is sumptuous but the quintessentially elegiac voice of his viola is enlivened with wonderfully mercurial flashes from both the soloist and Ashkenazy with the hyper-alert orchestra. The pilgrims seem a happy band and the Serenade of the Abruzzi mountaineer to his sweetheart is winsomely played by the American violist. The final movement, The Brigands’ Orgy, is particularly dramatic. I don’t think anyone can surpass Charles Munch in his old Boston performance on RCA, but these forces come close. Among modern competitors, I’d put Sir Colin Davis and Tabea Zimmermann (LSO Live) and Lorin Maazel’s New York Philharmonic version with Cynthia Phelps (Deutsche Grammophon) on the same level. The only problem I had with this release was the choice of fill-ups. The Beatrice and… Continue reading Get unlimited…

Grosvenor finds plenty of poetry in the lyricism of Chopin, Liszt and Ravel.

Treading the path of many revered rockers who have dared to dabble in classical music late in their careers, Tori Amos makes her Deutsche Grammophon debut with a contemporary song cycle drawing on the music of Bach, Schubert, Debussy et al. as a harmonic framework. Luckily, the patron saint of female singer-songwriters has the right mix of indie cred and training as a classical pianist (ending in rebellion) to pull it off in style. The eclectic range of pieces that comprise Night of Hunters illumines Amos’s narrative of a relationship in crisis, told in a curious blend of mythical and prosaic language. The high-octane, Nymanesque opener Shattering Sea (Alkan) sets a turbulent scene, John Philip Shenale’s propulsive chamber arrangement featuring bassoon, clarinet and strings. Not all the songs live up to this promise though. The Satie Gnossienne suffers most, as Amos awkwardly breaks up words to fit what should be a floating melody – only her own newly composed bridge section charms the ear. But Fearlessness, Job’s Coffin and Nautical Twilight are exemplary Amos ballads in classical garb (with a girlish, Kate Bush vocal twist), while Edge of the Moon reveals the singer-pianist at her most vulnerable, to… Continue reading…

The greatest music — say, a late Beethoven piano sonata — exists in its own realm. It does not automatically conjure up images of the period in which it was written. Chopin’s waltzes do, and that is why they are sometimes thought of as glorified salon music. It takes a pianist with the sensibility of Stephen Hough to reveal the art behind their mixture of effervescence and sentimentality. Chopin himself regarded his waltzes as comparative trifles; he only published half of them and often gave the manuscripts to young ladies as gifts. Hough’s facility with lighter music is well documented in his mixed recitals. He has an instinctive knowledge of when to relax and when to press forward, which is used to charming effect in this beautifully recorded collection. In both the Minute and the C-sharp minor waltzes (from the Op 64 set) Hough subtly caresses the melodic lines, and breezes through the scale passages with an evenness of touch, never making too great a point of virtuosity. Mirroring the composer’s achievement, this is the art that conceals art. The delicacy of Hough’s approach also benefits the unpublished waltzes, many of which are less complex and less polished than the… Continue reading…

I hate to sound like an old fogy here but I guess it’s unavoidable.