In Volume 6 of her magisterial traversal of the Beethoven piano sonatas, Angela Hewitt reminds us that Beethoven could be the god of small (musical) things. Her performances of the three “little” Sonatas in this set illustrate this perfectly. The Schubertian (Hewitt’s apt term) Allegretto of the Op. 14 No 1 Sonata has an ambience similar to that of Mozart’s last Piano Concerto, the composer smiling through tears. Another example is the delightful, slightly torpid four-note intoduction of the Op. 49 No 1 Sonata. The final movement of the Op. 49 No 2 is the same Minuet as the one in Beethoven’s early Septet and Hewitt makes it just as charming. By the time we come to the Op. 31 No 1 Sonata, we’ve really turned a corner: the slow movement is marked Adagio grazioso – almost a contradiction in terms and, at 11 minutes, by far the longest movement on this CD. Hewitt plays along in beautifully cantabile mode with the notion that it’s both tribute to and parody of Italian opera. The Op. 81a Sonata Les Adieux refers to Beethoven’s separation from his patron and probable best friend Archduke Rudolf as he was evacuated from Vienna during the…

The lyra viol is a 17th-century instrument that, like the viola d’amore, has resonating strings inside the body of the instrument. It’s played between the knees like the bass viol, but is a little smaller. In many ways, however, the lyra viol is most similar to the lute. Like the lute, the lyra viol has a significant solo repertoire, and its music is notated in tablature. Tablature notates the location of the notes for the player, but not what those notes are. Given that the lyra viol often uses completely different tunings, using tablature makes performing music where each string might be different from the norm considerably easier. Although he’s most well known for his music for viol consort, William Lawes wrote prolifically for the lyra viol. Richard Boothby here performs the entirety of the solo repertoire, most of which are dances – it’s a lushly warm performance of Almains, Sarabandes, and Corantos. Though Boothby’s playing is beautifully hypnotic, I’d have liked more bite to some of the faster dances. Lawes’ consort music is known for his startling use of dissonances and rhythmic shifts, which could have been exaggerated more. On this disc, these works can come across as timid,…

The expression “homage” is somewhat overused. The homage here is to earlier composers and, less specifically (and, in this case, convincingly), genres. Busoni’s treatment of JS Bach’s famous Chaconne for solo violin is here played very emphatically and majestically by Grosvenor. There’s no question as to his artistry or interpretative imagination but I found the experience wearing.Mendelssohn’s tribute to Bach sees vibrant preludes with kaleidoscopic embellishments and grand fugues with admirable ebb and flow, not to mention, architecture. I’ve always found Franck’s Prélude, Chorale and Fugue rather academic but Grosvenor maintains both the seemingly endless tendril-like legato (and rubato) effectively.  I found the homage concept less cogent in the Chopin and Liszt component, but the music more engaging. The notoriously tricky Barcarolle is beautifully brought off with just the right swinging rubato. No one will ever replace Dinu Lipatti, but that’s no reflection on Grosvenor. In Liszt’s Venezia e Napoli, from the Italian component of his Years of Pilgrimmage, he, similarly in Gondoliera, captures the innocence of a gondolier serenading his beloved. For me, the best came with the download bonus of the six-movement Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin. (He orchestrated only four). Grosvenor takes the Prélude at breakneck speed…

And so one of today’s most singular young harpsichordists comes to one of the most singular works ever written for the instrument, JS Bach’s Aria with 30 Variations, aka the Goldberg Variations. The legend, propagated by one of Bach’s great early biographers Forkel, is well-known. In 1741 an insomniac Count von Keyserlingk of Dresden commissions from Bach a work which the Count’s harpsichordist, Johann Gottlieb Goldberg, subsequently performs for his master to while away the sleepless hours. Now considered an apocryphal story, it is no less attractive for that. But one thing is true: that in the last century and this one at least, both exponents and listeners of the piano or the harpsichord have spent many an hour in thrall to one of Bach’s most original and grandly conceived work for keyboards. Whether playing Rameau and CPE Bach or Steve Reich and Górecki, the Tehran-born Esfahani always seems to be asking not whether he has something new to say about the music but whether the music has something new to say to him. In other words, a merely novel interpretation isn’t the endgame – though it may be a byproduct. The aria, a stately sarabande that encloses the 30…

This is the debut release from the Rautio Piano Trio, and it’s an assured debut indeed. They perform three of Mozart’s Piano Trios (he only managed to write six, more’s the pity), the Trio in B Flat K502, the Trio in E, K542, and the Trio in G, K564. Mozart wrote these trios over the course of several years, during which time he also wrote The Marriage of Figaro and Don Giovanni. It might be me being tempted to hear things Mozart never intended, but I feel as though the breezily conversational writing of these trios is indebted to his operatic writing. There’s plenty of cheerful Mozartian melodic lines passing around the ensemble that can’t help but bring a smile to one’s face. These trios were composed specifically for Mozart himself to perform in Viennese concerts. Being well aware of the monetary potential in creating music that could sell, you can almost imagine Mozart composing with one eye on the audience as the movements unfold. The trios are filled with an almost palpable sense of delight in the way the music twists and turns. Pianist Jan Rautio performs here on a fortepiano that once belonged to Christopher Hogwood, and, like…

John Adams frequently references tradition in his music, using contemporary sonorities and forms to comment on the past. His most recent major orchestral work, Scheherazade.2, is only on the surface a nod to Rimsky-Korsakov’s symphonic poem, taking a more contemporary approach in telling the famous story. Remarking on the disturbing violence committed against women in stories from The Arabian Nights, Adams was inspired to reinvent the principal tale, imagining a strong and empowered ‘modern’ Scheherazade. The composer gives voice to this powerful retelling in a massive four-movement work that’s part symphony, part concerto, with a dramatic solo violin part embodying the Scheherazade character (another cursory nod to Rimsky-Korsakov’s original). The work receives here its premiere recording with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and David Robertson (also Chief Conductor of the SSO) with the soloist for whom it was written, Leila Josefowicz. Josefowicz’s performance is outstanding, negotiating the virtuosic solo part with passion, assurance and an ironclad tone. She slides, ducks and weaves around an often-aggressive orchestra that’s given an exotic flavour thanks to the addition of a Cimbalom – a Hungarian dulcimer. The St. Louis orchestra’s sound is simply magical and perfectly balanced in this recording under Robertson’s expert direction. 

This disc brings together an unlikely but convincing combination of instruments in a trio consisting of the organ, baroque oboe and baroque trumpet. The reasoning that Austral Harmony gives for this is rather interesting. A contemporary of Bach’s named Georg Friedrich Kauffmann apparently suggested in some of his chorale preludes that an oboe or “other agreeable instrument” (trumpet, in this case) could play alongside the organ so as to give the impression that an organ stop was being used. I rather like his amiably cheerful descriptions of his own pieces given in the liner notes: “the oboes have been used in such a way here, which should be announced as good news”. Good news indeed for fans of Baroque wind and brass! What you get is a recital focusing on the oboe and organ (with appearances from trumpeter Simon Desbruslais on a respectable six tracks) with music from JS Bach and his contemporaries. There’s actually significantly more by the “other” composers than there is by Bach, but they’re in a similar style, so if you like Bach, you’ll like the other composers here, too. I particularly enjoyed the Sonata o Oboe Solo col Basso by the magnificently named Gottfried August…

It is the earthy directness of violinist Franziska Pietsch’s sound, over Detlev Eisinger’s sepulchral piano, that captures the ear of the listener in this disc from Audite. Prokofiev likened a passage in the first movement of his First Violin Sonata to “wind sweeping across a cemetery” and Pietsch and Eisinger perfectly conjure this darkness, their spacious tempo giving the movement a sense of deep loneliness that periodically swells into pained longing. There is a gritty violence to the jagged Allegro brusco and the third movement is searingly plaintive. The intimate recording captures every detail of Pietsch’s resonant pizzicatos in the outer movements and the finale bristles with folk-energy, receding into quiet lyricism. The Second Violin Sonata – originally composed for flute but arranged for violin at David Oistrakh’s prompting – is almost pastoral. Composed during Prokofiev’s sojourn in the Ural Mountains during World War II, a jagged motif whose rhythm echoes the Morse Code “V for Victory” that accompanied the BBC’s broadcasts recalls the ongoing violence. The motif – three dots and a dash – sends aural sparks flying from Pietsch’s violin and there’s a quirky bounce to her Scherzo.  Pietsch and Eisinger interweave soulfully in the Andante and the finale…

Cellist Rachel Scott is spreading the gospel of classical music far and wide. She works with underserved communities as Education Director of the Australian Children’s Music Foundation and runs her own popular concert series, Bach in the Dark. Her second self-released album Dreaming with Daisy emerges from a close-knit collaboration with cellist David Pereira, who she has been performing with for six years. According to Scott, their work “is as much a celebration of their friendship as their artistry”. Click Here To Purchase Album Dreaming with Daisy has the feel of a celebration, of untempered, free and loose-limbed music-making, where lines are shaped with boldness, and questions of style seem beside the point. The recorded sound, with its in-your-face rawness, is apt for music-making of immediacy and intimacy, but does reveal frequent, jarring intonation issues, as well as some rough-and-ready sounds from both cellists. Depending on your perspective, the programme is a delightful potpourri or a mismatched patchwork. Full-throated Bach rubs up against Pereira’s own jazzy fantasy on Daisy, Daisy (with its bicycle fittingly “built for two”), and Dotzauer’s indulgent Mozart variations run into some gravelly heavy metal from Elena Kats-Chernin. A conscious decision appears to have been made to…

Jaakko Kuusisto is one of those ‘triple threat’ musicians. Accomplished as a violinist, conductor and composer, he has received numerous accolades in his native Finland and around the world. His recordings have mostly featured him as performer or conductor, however this most recent release focuses on the Finnish maestro’s chamber works, performed by a catalogue of exemplary Finnish musos, including Kuusisto himself. Much of the music adopts a language evocative of the early 20th century. Play III sounds like a lost Bartók string quartet, while Valo for piano and violin makes extensive (crossing into exhausted) use of the whole-tone scale in its harmonic and melodic progressions – a favourite device of the so-called musical ‘impressionists’. An ornamented transfiguration of the opening bassoon solo in Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring becomes an effective source of material for much of Loisto, also for piano and violin. Play III is a bold opening to the disc. The rich, robust sound of quartet Meta4 sets a strong tone on an album featuring expert musicianship from all featured performers. Kuusisto’s own performances in the two works for violin with piano, and in the central work, Play II, are incredibly powerful, his robust and expressive tone matching…

As Donald Francis Tovey writes in his eminently useful Essays in Musical Analysis, Mozart’s three last symphonies, written in 1788 over six weeks, “express the healthiest of reactions on each other” and, being “in Mozart’s ripest style makes the full range of that style appear more vividly than in any other circumstances. Consequently, they make an ideal programme when played in their chronological order.” Thus does one often hear them, as a kind of triptych or three-movement, Major-Minor-Major meta-symphony, both in concert and on record. And thus does one hear them in this instance, recorded live during the Australian Chamber Orchestra’s 2015 Mozart’s Last Symphonies national tour, which commemorated 25 years since the great Frans Brüggen conducted the orchestra in the same programme. It was also Tognetti’s first year as leader. Listening again to Brüggen’s last great pronouncement on these three symphonies (for the Glossa label in 2014), one marvels anew at the way he shapes the Orchestra of the 18th Century’s lithe, colourful responses to Mozart’s almost Shakespearean combination of low comedy and high seriousness. But it is to John Eliot Gardiner’s live 2006 recording of Symphonies Nos 39 and 41 that we must turn to find something like…

The classical music recording industry must be in better shape than we think: this is the culmination of Osmo Vänskä’s second Sibelius cycle in little more than a decade. The first with Finland’s Lahti orchestra was widely regarded as “the one to have” but these BIS performances with the Minnesota orchestra (which seems to have at last survived its travails, fortunately) have run that cycle close. This CD lasts 82 minutes – with magnificent sound. As an aside, why, one wonders, can’t more CD’s offer such outstanding value?  The Third, Sixth and Seventh are, each, in its own way, emotionally ambiguous and unconventional and occupy their own unique sound world’s, just as do the symphonies of Beethoven and Vaughan Williams. The Third Symphony has always been one of my favourites, despite, or perhaps, because, of being, along with the Sixth, the least performed, but arguably, the most original, even by Sibelius’ standards. The coherent whole transcends the disparateness of the individual movements. I love the Haydnesque bustle of the opening movement and that sudden pause shortly after the start, which seems like a sort of gasp from someone suddenly realising they’re hovering on the edge of a precipice, or contemplating…