Of all the oddballs in classical music, the French composer Erik Satie surely takes the cake. He was an artistic visionary and a bona fide eccentric, a friend to occultists, surrealists, and Dadaists, and a self-dubbed ‘phonometrist’. To describe him as ahead of his time would be something of an understatement. He wrote furniture music and produced a string of other musical experiments that prefigured Postmodernism. London-based Japanese pianist Noriko Ogawa has recorded Satie’s complete set of works for piano for Sweden’s enterprising BIS label, and in this second volume there’s not a Gymnopedie in sight – not even Je te veux. The curious listener will gain a more rounded understanding of this very unique genius through works like the Sports et Divertissements (Sports and Hobbies), and Préludes Flasques pour un Chien (Flabby Preludes for a dog). The Trois Préludes du Fils des Étoiles (Three Preludes from The Son of the Stars) are particularly interesting, sounding as though they might have been sketched by that other French musical dreamer, Olivier Messiaen. The disc is almost entirely composed of miniatures and, whether strange or serious, each gives a perspective on Satie’s musical nature: mock-traditionalist, austere, and reverent, with his curious mixture…

Alexandre Kantorow’s first outing for BIS – an all-Liszt programme including both piano concertos – had critics racing to their lexicons for superlatives. That was in 2015 at the age of 18; In 2017, as he turns 20, Kantorow puts his stamp on more fiendish repertoire with blistering interpretations of two monumental works à la russe. Rachmaninov’s first Piano Sonata dates from 1908 and was initially inspired by Goethe’s Faust, its classically-structured movements representing three distinct personalities – Faust, Gretchen, and Mephistopheles. The last, described as a ‘hellish whirlpool’ in a ‘diabolical sonata,’ finds Kantorow in his element: a smashing, torrent of sound delivered with formidable technique and precision. Its companion piece here is a 1928 transcription of excerpts from Stravinsky’s Firebird by Guido Agosti. The transcription is extraordinary, its delivery by Kantorow breathtaking, terrifying, brimming with suspense.  Between these edifices are two glorious epistles of tenderness, Meditation and Passé lointain, from Tchaikovsky’s Morceaux (Op. 72), demonstrating that Kantorow is a master of deep and delicate lyricism. The SACD is of the usual impeccable BIS standard, the only niggle an over-brightness of tone at times, but that is purely taste. Finally, Balakirev’s Islamey brings this programme to an exhausting but immensely…

The first edition of Schumann’s Etudes Symphoniques was published in 1837. The work consists of a theme “by an amateur” (Baron von Fricken) and 12 movements. The final movement, a variation on a theme by Marchner, was dedicated to Schumann’s friend, English composer and pianist William Sterndale Bennett (1816-1875). Both Schumann and Mendelssohn spoke glowingly of the young man’s gifts; however, on his return from Leipzig, Bennett forsook composition for conducting, teaching and administration at the Royal College of Music. (One of his students was Arthur Sullivan.)  The Piano Sonata is one of Bennett’s strong early works. It is Mozartean in its restraint, melodiousness and structure, although harmonically it most resembles Mendelssohn. The work is certainly promising, even though that initial promise was never fulfilled. London-based Japanese pianist Hiroaki Takenouchi gives a robust performance, bringing the music out of its shell, and finding plenty of sturm und drang. Schumann’s Etudes are more demanding and dynamic. Takenouchi is again robust, sometimes over-emphasising accompanying figures. He is at his best in faster movements such as the sprightly Scherzando (Study No 5), and the final Allegro brilliante (No 12) – but while it is bracing to hear this music attacked so fearlessly, Takenouchi lacks Pogolerich’s…

Domenico Scarlatti’s collection of 555 sonatas for the harpsichord represents a unique output. Far more showy than most of his Baroque brethren, the sonatas are a kaleidoscope of swirling melodic lines and rapid runs. There are even a few that take their influence from the music that he must have heard at the courts of Spain – strummed guitars are never far away. Canadian pianist Luke Welch presents an all-Scarlatti recital comprising favourites like the Sonata in E Major, L23/K380. One of the oddest things about the harpsichord is that it can’t change volume, though composers got around this problem in some ingenious ways. So, when a performer plays Scarlatti’s music on the modern piano, they must also choose whether to take advantage of the piano’s full range of dynamics or to imitate the harpsichord. Welch sensibly doesn’t thunder away, but instead keeps to a more restricted dynamic range that evokes the older instrument in mood if not in timbre. This is an assured performance, though awfully short, with the eight tracks on the disc coming in at a smidgen over 35 minutes. I’d have definitely liked a few more to build the recording to a more… Continue reading Get…

With Hyperion’s piano sound wonderfully natural, this lyrical and well-filled CD amply repays repeated listening.

Telemann serves tapas in a rich and entertaining listening experience.

It’s as difficult to know where to start describing the brilliance of this album as it is to avoid superlatives. Cellist Yo-Yo Ma, mandolin player Chris Thile and bassist Edgar Meyer are masters of their respective instruments. All are fluent in different musical styles and genres. All have collaborated with each other, either as duos or as part of a larger ensemble, on many occasions. All have performed and recorded JS Bach’s works for solo cello or violin to critical acclaim, so one can immediately assume a certain facility and intimacy when playing Bach together. Here, they present a programme comprising arrangements of mostly keyboard works, the only exception being the Viola da Gamba Sonata No 3 in G Minor. There is the Trio Sonata No 6 in G, the Passepied from the Partita No 5 in G, an excerpt from The Art of Fugue and a selection of preludes and fugues and chorale preludes. There are flashes of extreme virtuosity, such as the breakneck section in the E Minor Fugue BWV548, originally for organ. There are almost heartbreakingly beautiful renderings of some of Bach’s most famous chorale preludes, such as Erbarm dich mein, o Herre Gott, BWV721 and… Continue reading Get…

A reliable repertoire graces the new self-titled release from Charmian Gadd and Phillip Shovk. Recorded two years ago at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, the album features three sonatas for violin and piano. All in major keys, the works offer a chance to carve out an hour-or-so and indulge in some fine 19th-century music. Gadd’s timbre on violin is luscious with high frequencies in the opening Brahms Violin Sonata No 1 in G. Shovk burbles away with a neat brush of the keys, which satisfies the need for a fuller and warmer foundation of sound. In his notes, Shovk informs us this work is in the style of Beethoven – perhaps a reason he chose the master’s Sonata No 10 in G to complete the album. But sandwiched between these two legendary composers is Fauré: his Violin Sonata No 1 in A. A pivotal work in the chamber repertoire, Fauré’s music is composed and performed with affection (except during the rumbling momentum of the Allegro vivo). The Beethoven eventually arrives with a frisky little trill, instruments echoing each other before joining in rhythmic unison. In this Allegro moderato, Gadd and Shovk bare their abilities to respond acutely to each other’s musical approaches….

The Music in Exile series is a fantastic initiative by Canadian group ARC Ensemble (Artists of the Royal Conservatory). A spotlight on composers of suppressed music during the rise of Nazism, the most recent in the series looks at the chamber works of Paris-based Polish composer, Szymon Laks. Musically, Laks was something of a more cosmopolitan Bartók, with notes of Hindemith, Poulenc and even Prokofiev peppering his language. His works are infused with tuneful confidence, and many, particularly the Piano Quintet, draw on Polish folk tradition. The performances on this disc are all crystal clear, capturing the fine lines of Laks’ calculated counterpoint. Much of the music is light, and upbeat in character, with the works including winds having particular bounce. This is music in stark contrast to the darkness of the war, during which Laks was imprisoned at Auschwitz. In the midst of the terror of the Nazi regime, music might have been a light of hope, especially for those at Auschwitz. The camp had a few ensembles, and at one point Laks was appointed conductor of the men’s orchestra. Laks’ testimony, however, was that music provided little in the way of comfort: “In no case,” he said, “did…

Heath's Bartók is truly Béla: New cycle of the string quartets gets to the heart of darkness.

“Representing no occasion, no immediate purpose but an appeal to eternity” was how Albert Einstein, (the music critic, not the physicist/philosopher) described Mozart’s last three symphonies. How can such sublime music exist without either social or creative context? They have, rightly, assumed an almost mystical aura. The late Nikolaus Harnoncourt always used to perform them together as he regarded them to be essentially one work. Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic have set new standards in these performances with the wind breathtakingly behind their virtuosic wings: everything seems perfect. I wish I had more space to expatiate on the adrenalin-charged felicities of these accounts. They embody a rare and wondrous fusion of both interpretive “worlds”: the heft and scale of a great symphony orchestra in full cry, with the drama and detail of historically informed or influenced approach. In the Symphony No 39, the clarinets seem more present than ever, and seem to enhance the cheerful bustle, especially in their most prominent appearance in the Trio of the Menuetto. I was glad Rattle observed the repeat in the finale, as, without it, the ending seems abrupt. In the G Minor, the opening mood reminded me of Benjamin Britten’s superb, late-60s…

An agile Helsinki Philharmonic under Storgårds perform convincingly on a sharp, high-quality recording.