Russian doom and gloom proves highlight of a merely good performance

In a career that’s lasted more than half a century, Pepe Romero has proven himself to be an important part of the classical guitar’s 20th-century revival. With a prodigious, flamenco-based technique, his intense and raw performances are celebrated here in a generous 11CD box set, covering the greater part of the Spanish guitar repertoire.  If you’re looking for the less Spanish-influenced music that was to appear in the guitar repertoire in the 1960s and 70s (Britten’s Nocturnal, perhaps?), then this definitely isn’t the place. A solid five CDs here are devoted to the guitar repertoire from Spain, but then again Romero’s at his very best in repertoire that’s written in a modern, yet lyrical style. He particularly shines here in performances of the music of Joaquín Rodrigo and Federico Moreno-Torroba, and it’s refreshing that it’s not only these composers’ big hits that are included. Of especial note is Rodrigo’s Invocación y Danza, perhaps his greatest composition. It’s written in an entirely different style to his sunny concertos, and is instead a dark and almost destructively powerful rumination on the music of fellow Spaniard Manuel de Falla. Romero’s performance here is stirring stuff indeed, showing the guitar in its best light. Other…

In this thoughtful and measured recital, French pianist Bertrand Chamayou gives evocative accounts of a wide range of Schubert pieces. In the liner notes, Chamayou suggests that the album is “a kind of imaginary recital programme, along the lines of a concert that could have been heard in Vienna at the beginning of the Romantic period, in the cosy and intimate atmosphere of a salon… but which, for various historical reasons, could not have happened in this form”. While several other pianists have used the idea of a Schubertiade as inspiration for recital programming, the anachronistic inclusion of arrangements and transcriptions by Liszt and Richard Strauss make this a performance to remember, and prove that Chamayou has put a considerable amount of thought into this CD. At its heart is a strong performance of the Wanderer-Fantasie, a work that Chamayou infuses with a crucial sense of interconnection between the movements. It’s particularly important here, as the whole work is built on a motif taken from Schubert’s lied Der Wanderer, and that vital link is neatly highlighted.  The other major works on the disc include the late Drei Klavierstücke D946, and the delightful 12 Ländler D790. The Klavierstücke were written within…

Leonidas Kavakos and Yuja Wang here give a hearty, if rather cold, performance of Brahms’ much-loved violin sonatas. Wang has proven her virtuoso skills with her previous recital CDs, but this is the first recording she’s made of chamber music. It’s concerning, then, that this release feels a little like star players working well together, but not connecting as deeply as befits the repertoire.  More could be made of many of the most ethereal moments in the music (some of them seem to pass without notice), and there’s an almost palpable sense of relief from the players when the big tunes kick in. Take, for example, the piano’s turn at the theme partway through the first movement of the Violin Sonata in G, accompanied by a delicate pizzicato violin. In other recordings, this return to the theme is a hushed and delicate remembrance, almost magical in its simplicity. Here, it’s merely pretty.  Similar issues arise in the other sonatas. The A Major’s grazioso third movement sounds wooden, with none of the grace and lightness of touch that, for example, Arthur Grumiaux and György Sebo˝k give it. This is very heavy Brahms, then, played solidly and weightily. Kavakos and Wang fare…

The third volume of Paul and Huw Watkins’ survey of British cello music turns to sonatas written after 1945 by Edmund Rubbra, Alan Rawsthorne, and EJ Moeran. All three are works that haven’t entered mainstream repertoire, but this CD makes a compelling argument that they should. Rubbra’s Sonata in G Minor shows his preoccupation with counterpoint and the music of the 16th century, even extending to authoring a short but fascinating book entitled Counterpoint – A Survey (now, disappointingly, out of print). Cello and piano work together in a way that’s reminiscent of the Renaissance masters of polyphony, but with a piquant 20th-century touch. By contrast, Rawsthorne’s work is highly chromatic and passionate, with moments of crystalline delicacy as well as shattering power. Similarly, Moeran’s Sonata is a stirring piece, sounding at times like a more chromatically dense Brahms. There are hints at his interest in folk music, particularly in the dark and roiling first movement. All three works are finely played and recorded but I have reservations about programming. Rawsthorne and Moeran back-to-back results in a solid 35 minutes of similar weight; both Rubbra and Moeran wrote short works that could have been added to cleanse the palate. A…

Making a debut playing the music of a relatively obscure composer is a brave move. That said, who could resist the music of Anton Arensky?

Having previously recorded Beethoven’s complete violin sonatas with Corey Cerovsek, as well as some fairly uncompromising 20th-century works, including pieces by Boulez, Bartók and Rautavaara, Paavali Jumpanen has released a two-disc set of Beethoven’s piano sonatas. He’s chosen some of the very earliest works in the Op 2 set, as well as the Sonata in A Major, Op 101, and he concludes with the monumental Hammerklavier. Jumpanen’s approach to these pieces is highly convincing; in the early sonatas, he reminds us that they were dedicated to Haydn through a thoroughly Classical reading of the works. However, there’s an intensity behind the elegance that’s refreshing. It’s clear that Jumppanen realises that Beethoven was already pushing the boundaries of the Classical style, showing a firm understanding of the works’ progressive nature. The Sonata in F Minor begins with an arpeggiated melody highly reminiscent of Haydn himself, but it’s only a short time before the storm clouds gather. Take for example, the passionate last movement, which is full of gestures that signify what was to come for Beethoven’s stylistic development – we hear crashing bass chords paired with rapid-fire scalic passages. The Sonata in A is a more restrained work, and it’s worthwhile…

Having been placed in the top three of the prestigious Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, Sean Chen’s debut CD comes with certain expectations. Although the works he has chosen for this live performance cover well-trodden ground, his powerful technique and highly musical phrasing ensure that even familiar works such as Beethoven’s Hammerklavier Sonata sound bold and fresh-faced. I was particularly taken with his recording of Brahms’ Variations on an Original Theme. It’s a work I’ve heard several times before, and I have to confess that I’ve never been very taken with it. However, Chen’s performance brings out the lightness that is so often missing – there are some wonderfully delicate moments, and his phrasings are remarkably natural. Although an unusual choice for a concert closer (why venture into the 20th century for only a few minutes after over an hour of lush romantic writing?), Bartók’s Etudes close the CD with a wonderfully acidic bite. Perhaps it’s because this is a live recording, but the more bass-heavy passages in the Beethoven and Brahms become rather smudged at times. If you prefer your Romantic music to be cleanly delineated, this may a concern. That being said, there’s an irresistible sense of thrust and drive in the faster movements…