It took Franz Liszt 26 years to produce the final version of his Twelve Studies in Increasing Degree of Difficulty. The earliest version dates from 1826, but the pianist-phenomenon decided that these pieces were not difficult enough. Other pianists could still manage to play them! The most challenging version of the expanded and elaborated studies appeared in 1837, but the final version of 1852 – dedicated to Czerny – brought a reduction in technical obstacles. Stretches of over a tenth were eliminated, for example.  While these 12 Etudes and the others in this recital were designed to showcase Liszt’s superhuman technique, Liszt the poet is still in evidence. Additional to the pyrotechnics lie delicate textures, presaging those of Debussy in terms of color if not harmony. These textures require all the subtlety of nuance that the later composer would demand.  Recordings have tended to lean towards one or other extreme. Generally, young pianists use the Etudes to show off their pianistic skill: the young Bolet, Cziffra and Ovchinnikov come to mind. Older pianists stress the poetry and musicality, like Arrau and late Bolet, both in their 70s when they recorded these works. Arrau’s Transcendental Etudes have been described as magisterial,…

And then there were three cycles – the Silesian Quartet’s version of Polish composer Graz˙yna Bacewicz’s seven string quartets following on the heels of the Amar Corde Quartet (on Acte Préalable) and the Lutosławksi Quartet (on Naxos), and securing her reputation as one of the best-known unknown composers around. Bacewicz died in 1969 and her quartet cycle journeys from makings of tonality that are known towards a hard-fought for personal harmonic wizardry that embraces 12-tone thinking without being overly concerned with ‘correct’ 12-tone technique. Secreted kernels of melody appear discreetly from behind shadowy, shuffling textures to anticipate the soundworld of latter-day Bartók quartets – and even Luigi Nono. Bacewicz’s cycle is noticeably more consistent and chancey than Shostakovich’s, but how depressing to read elsewhere mantras about Bacewicz the “female composer”. Music as great as this ought to leave crude gender categorising far behind. “Music as great as this ought to leave crude gender categorising far behind“ The pivot is the Fifth Quartet. Written in 1955 as she was recovering from serious injury sustained during a car crash, Bacewicz has developed her language from the broadly Neo-Classical turn-of-phrase of the Fourth Quartet – for which please don’t read Stravinskian pastiche –…

Nicola Benedetti scales the heights from Tzarist charm to Stalinist menace.

Lionel Bringuier’s recordings of Ravel’s piano concertos with Yuja Wang were issued last year, and a second listening confirms the Wang approach has much going for it.

This latest volume in Ronald Brautigam’s consistently brilliant survey of Mozart’s works for piano and orchestra finds the Dutch fortepianist in fine fettle in some of the early concertos.  Joined by superb German period-instrument band Die Kölner Akademie under Juilliard-trained director Michael Alexander Willens, Brautigam raises the curtain with the main attraction, so to speak. Written in 1773, Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 5 was his first original piano concerto, the previous being arrangements of other composers’ music. It’s a thrilling work, with a grand opening Allegro replete with trumpets and timpani, a delicate Cantabile slow movement and a punchy, exciting concluding Rondo.  All of which contrasts nicely with Mozart’s sweeter, more delicate Piano Concerto No 6 in B Flat (1776). Gone are the martial effects; instead the main attraction is a stately, delicious Andante where flutes replace oboes, upper strings play on the bridge and lower strings are for the most part plucked. More contrasting again are the Three Concertos for keyboard, two violins and basso arranged around 1772 by Mozart fils and père after JC Bach’s keyboard sonatas of 1766. With Brautigam joined only by violinists Peter Hanson and Marie-Luise Hartmann and cellist Albert Brüggen, these are more in…

I write this review on the exact centenary of the Battle of the Somme, which is being appropriately (and heart-rendingly) commemorated, and in which this composer died, at 31. I’m surprised how deeply affected I am hearing this exquisite CD.  The very mention of Butterworth’s name induces a pang in many people. He was the archetypally gallant yet reticent Edwardian hero, a fine Etonian scholar and musician (and revered by the men he led into battle) and this marvellous music rekindles the pain at the loss of someone cruelly extinguished on the cusp of probable greatness. All the orchestral pieces (some arranged and developed by the conductor) are radiantly preformed and perfectly convey the haunting, dappled beauty of Edwardian summers – great houses, croquet lawns and languid figures in muslin and linen, but not without a hint of mystery.  The texts of the song cycle A Shropshire Lad were composed by AE Housman and these renditions by James Rutherford are in the same league as those of Sir Thomas Allen. The singing is hearty, direct, innocently patriotic and occasionally suffused with an almost Mahlerian melancholy. The CD contains a premiere recording of the previously unfinished Orchestral Fantasia developed from a 92-bar…

In the mid 1980s, Magnus Lindberg’s sound-world underwent a drastic overhaul. His mammoth work Kraft (1983-5) reveals a composer delving into the kaleidoscope of Modernism. Yet only a few years later, Lindberg’s works were sounding radically different, embracing tonal harmony, and drawing on a wealth of styles, from minimalism to Boulez. The works on this recent release bear a strong Neo-Romantic quality, if not in harmony, then in gesture. Al Largo is a scintillating work bristling with detail. Orchestrations are lush and powerful, rarely retreating below piano, making for a dynamic and full-bodied experience. Commencing with a startling brass fanfare, Lindberg conjures up a series of vivid orchestral scenes, culminating in a joyous exultation. “Orchestrations are lush and powerful, making for a dynamic and full-bodied experience“ The composer’s Second Cello Concerto is a rich, dynamic work, highly expressive in an almost Romantic sense. Despite this, gestures assume a more modernist character, unlocking the rich timbral profile of the cello. Certain features are shared throughout all three movements, particularly Lindberg’s bold and rhapsodic approach, with broad, sweeping melody a constant feature in the solo part. Anssi Karttunen delivers a consistently powerful performance, plumbing the work’s expressive depths and achieving brilliant contrast in the…

The fourth of Gilbert and Sullivan’s remarkable operettas was HMS Pinafore, almost stillborn due to a heatwave that kept the public out of the stifling theatre in 1878. It was eventually saved by Sullivan playing excerpts at some prom concerts and the rest is history. This recording is from a concert performance made in August 2015 at the Edinburgh Festival, and while it doesn’t supersede the excellent recordings currently available, it is good to have a fresh take. Instead of dialogue, for example, Tim Brooke-Taylor provides the narrative and droll comments between the numbers. Andrew Foster-Williams’ Captain Corcoran is strong, if a little strained at times. Elizabeth Watts brings to Josephine a bit more spunk than is usual; this character can sometimes be a bit wet and she makes much of her splendid second act aria. Neal Davies is an excellent Dick Deadeye. As the hero, Ralph, Toby Spence is equally effective. John Mark Ainsley’s Sir Joseph is far too mannered for me. Conductor Richard Egarr keeps the music moving; Pinafore almost conducts itself unless you get in the way. As an aside, there are many reasons why these operettas have proved such useful school shows: the music is bright…

South African lyrical soprano sensation Pumeza Matshikiza has followed her debut recording Voice of Hope with a splendid set of arias and a smattering of jujubes to freshen the palate. Unlike Hope, Arias is weighted toward a stiff dose of the dramatic repertoire which suits her full, distinctive timbre and strength. Her personality and acting ability comes through loud and clear. Matshikiza shows she is a perfect fit for Mozart with two arias from The Marriage of Figaro, and she “trembles and wavers” convincingly in Che fiero momento from Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice. Her song choices also pay tribute to her heroes Renata Tebaldi (Sarti’s Lungi dal caro bene) and Victoria de los Ángeles (Sebastian Yradier’s La Paloma and a habanera from Montsalvatge’s Cinco Canciones Negras). Vocally she is always secure and never struggles. Her high “amore” ending of Senza mamma, o bimbo from Puccini’s Suor Angelica manages to keep a wide vibrato under control. Dvorˇák’s Song to the Moon from Rusalka is simply wonderful and Si, mi chiamano Mimì from Puccini’s La Bohème shows the character’s deceptive robustness as well as her fragility.  Some light relief from Liù’s heartbreaking aria from Turandot and Ravel’s Oh! La pitoyable aventure! from L’Heure Espagnole comes with a distinctly retro La Paloma, but in Arias, she eschews the light poppy moments which pepper her first album.

The world’s first recording of an opera by the composer of Faust is a cause for celebration. Charles Gounod’s Cinq-Mars (1877) – about a 17th-century French nobleman who plots against Cardinal Richelieu – had a longer first run than Faust, was popular in the provinces – and then vanished, apart from the occasional recital of Nuit resplendissante by an enterprising soprano. Palazzetto Bru Zane, dedicated to the rediscovery of French musical heritage from 1780 to 1920, is fast becoming a rival for Opera Rara as a purveyor of luxury editions of little-known operas. This recording of a concert performance is a triumph of scholarship and makes a strong case for the opera. Like most of Gounod’s operas, the work exists in several versions, as the composer turned a historical opéra comique, with spoken dialogue, into a full-scale grand opéra, with sung recitatives and expanded numbers.  The libretto is undramatic, though based on a story which cries out for operatic adaptation: Cinq-Mars began as a protégé of Richelieu, became the favourite (read: lover) of Louis XIII, plotted with Louis’ queen and brother to overthrow Richelieu, and ended up on the scaffold. The French royals and Richelieu do not appear, while Cinq-Mars,…

Maestro di Cappella of St. Mark’s Venice, author of over 20 operas and nearly 150 sacred works, teacher of Marcello, Galuppi and Zelenka and admired by Bach and Handel, Antonio Lotti’s diverse and successful career has latterly been distilled down to just two pieces: the unaccompanied Crucifixus settings for eight and ten voices. Now, in a recording dominated by contemporary premieres, Ben Palmer and his Syred Consort attempt to fill in the gaps and restore the reputation of this Baroque master. This is music that sells itself. In Ben Byram-Wigfield’s new editions, it emerges lively with rhythmic interest, texts carefully shaded with word-painting and contrasting solo and ensemble colours, supported by light-footed orchestral accompaniments. These are large-scale festal works of tremendous charm. Where Lotti does fall short of his near-contemporary Vivaldi is in melody. More interested in vertical texture than horizontal line (as both Crucifixus settings so clearly demonstrate), individual vocal parts do suffer from a certain anonymity.  Both Lotti’s Crucixifus a8 and his a6 setting form part of larger stand-alone, Credos. The former is presented here as part of the Missa Sancti Christophori – a composite work created from Lotti’s individual Mass movements by his pupil Zelenka (and supplemented…

We’re so used to hearing Handel recitals from sopranos or countertenors that one from a tenor is somewhat of a novelty, and we have to go back to Mark Padmore’s terrific 2007 release As Steals the Morn for something comparable. Basses fare even less well, and Bryn Terfel’s Handel Arias is now almost 20-years old. So English tenor Allan Clayton’s recital focusing on songs either written for or sung by the great Handelian tenor John Beard (c.1715-1791), who seems not only to have had a fine voice but acting skills to match, is most welcome. Beard created some of Handel’s most famous roles, including Samson, of which there are excerpts from not only that version but William Boyce’s; there are also arias from Ariodante, Alcina and Semele, as well as from Judas Maccabaeus, Samson, Jephtha, Alexander’s Feast and more. For As steals the morn from L’Allegro, Clayton is joined by soprano Mary Bevan; for Happy Pair from Alexander’s Feast, the Choir of Classical Opera; the recording opens with Sol nel mezzo risona del core from Il Pastor Fido, in which Bevan duets with James Eastaway’s sweetly plangent oboe. Of course the orchestral playing under the ever-musical direction of Ian Page…