Preghiera — RACHMANINOV Piano Trios – Gidon Kremer, Geidre Dirvanauskaite, Daniil Trifonov – DGG 

Preghiera — RACHMANINOV Piano Trios – Gidon Kremer, Geidre Dirvanauskaite, Daniil Trifonov – DGG 

RACHMANINOV: Preghiera (arr. Kreisler); Trio elegiaque in D minor, Op. 9; Trio elegiaque in G minor – Gidon Kremer, violin/ Geidre Dirvanauskaite, cello/ Daniil Trifonov, piano – DGG 479 6979. 67:03  (2/24/17)  [Distr. By Universal] ****:

To celebrate his 70th birthday, violinist Gidon Kremer (rec. 1-3 May 2015) collaborates with members of his Kremerata Baltica in music by Rachmaninov, mainly those two trios that pay deep reverence to the spirit of Tchaikovsky.  The eponymous Preghiera refers to an arrangement by Fritz Kreisler in agreement with Sergei Rachmaninov—with  whom he recorded works by Grieg and Beethoven—of the Adagio sostenuto main theme from the Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18. Kreisler, of course, loved to show off his sweet cantabile: here, even beyond Trifonov’s own liquid legato and voluptuous arpeggios, repeated in mesmeric nocturne, Kremer sings through the range of his instrument.  By degrees, the passion between the two instruments builds, much in the manner of the Concerto, into a thunderous declaration of tormented ecstasy, only to diminish in those Wagnerian wisps we know from the Liebestod.

Portrait Sergei Rachmaninoff

Sergei Rachmaninoff

Upon learning of the death of Tchaikovsky on 25 October 1893, Rachmaninov isolated himself to compose his D minor Trio “to the memory of a great artist,” much as Tchaikovsky had expressed his own grief on the passing of Nicholas Rubinstein. Massive in scope and sculpted in shades of mourning, lamento, the work follows the Tchaikovsky Op. 50 design using a grandly mounted theme and variations in the second movement. From a plodding, opening Moderato, the music—by way of Trifonov’s stunning block chords—accelerates into a passionate Allegro vivace. Later, Trifonov’s dominant piano part erupts yet once more, quasi cadenza, after having already demonstrated by any number of moods and contrasting sentiments. A three-note, lilting theme haunts all three instruments as part of the development section. This relatively calm sequence explodes into a fevered march whose blistering piano runs seem to echo aspects of the Tchaikovsky B-flat Minor Concerto. The funereal affect of the piece manages to recall the solemn moments from Chopin.

Tchaikovsky Portrait

Peter Tchaikovsky

The keyboard announces the extended theme—taken from the symphonic poem The Crag, Op. 7—for the Quasi variazione movement, whose proportions – in eight variations—becomes as massive and imposing as those in movement one. Trifonov holds us in thrall in the second variation, for piano solo. The remaining variations, quite differentiated in color and texture, nostalgic and scherzando, loom before us in a sweeping emotional panorama as broad as the first movement, so that the finale, opening in punishing Allegro risoluto – Moderato seems unable to bear the unequal weight distribution. After a fierce and competitive climax, the lamento of the first movement returns in chromatic descent for a cyclical conclusion, much in the Tchaikovsky spirit. The last page combines Kremer and cellist Dirvanauskaite for a most intimate recollection of times past.

The 1892 Trio elegiaque, Rachmaninov’s graduation piece, Tchaikovsky knew and admired. The work proffers a single movement of twelve minutes whose tenor seems entirely dependent upon Tchaikovsky’s Op. 50 Trio, but whose Lento lugubre and appassionata energies owe as much to Liszt. When Rachmaninov wishes, the textures can become gossamer and limpid, besides gloomily Russian. Beginning and ending with a funeral march, the work demonstrates both economy and fertile imagination, whose keyboard part signifies much of the rich virtuosity that lies in the composer’s future.  The sonic vitality of the recording recommends these performances to any connoisseur of Russian chamber music.

—Gary Lemco

 

 

Ray Chen – The Golden Age – Decca

Ray Chen – The Golden Age – Decca

The Golden Age—Ray Chen plays works by Kreisler, Bruch, Debussy, Gershwin, Scott, and others. Ray Chen (violin), Julien Quentin (piano), London Philharmonic Orchestra, dir. Robert Trevino; Made in Berlin (quartet)—Decca 483-3852—53:26, *****:

The promise of music from the “Golden Age” of violinists—namely by the likes of violinists such as Kreisler, Heifetz, and Joachim and composers like Debussy, Satie, and Gershwin—is the theme behind this new release from Australian violinist Ray Chen. Decca does a superb job of capturing the music in full fidelity, especially so when the music is divided among three ensembles recorded in different locations: violin and piano, violin and orchestra, and string quartet. To my ears, it all sounds as if it was recorded during the same take in the same location. Despite the name of the album, the sound is not pushed behind a gauzy golden veil, but instead is lean and forward. Not every artist might appreciate the transparency of this sound, but it has the effect of putting us, the listeners, right in the front row. It’s really well done.

Portrait Claude Debussy, 1908

Claude Debussy, 1908
by Félix Nadar

The piece that might set you back into the Golden Age most forcibly is the performance of Debussy’s Clair de lune, which sounds straight out of a early twentieth century black and white movie. Chen’s collaboration with Noah Bendix-Balgley (violin), Amihai Grosz (viola), and Stephan Koncz (cello)—all from the Berlin Philharmonic—is an especially bright spot on the recording. In the Debussy, Chen does not strain to become the star; when appropriate he tucks his sound into that of the ensemble. Despite only playing a handful of times a year, Made in Berlin is an amazingly tight quartet that stars in three selections.

The opening track, entitled A New Satiesfaction, an arranged composition of Satie’s first Gynopaédie by cellist Stephan Koncz, is an amazingly refreshing piece that steals idioms from multiple sources but ultimately relaxes around the familiar Satie piece for piano. It’s our first taste of Chen’s style, especially from an era criticized by some as having a tad too much schmaltz, especially from the vibrating left hand of these golden era violinists. Chen smartly tempers that reference with what seems, for today at least, a very pragmatic and stylish amount of polish and vibrato. In this short, emotional piece, we begin to fall for both the exquisite sound of his instrument, a Stradivarius once owned by Joseph Joachim, and a very adaptable and controlled technique.

The pieces by Scott, Kreisler, and Ponce are all attractive tastes. Each are beautiful pieces that we can think of as delectable palate teasers. The album notes make reference to beautiful blooms. Either reference—of flowers or of food—are apt. And at the center of the banquet table is the main course (or bouquet) in Max Bruch’s Violin Concerto in G minor.

Portrait Max Bruch

Max Bruch

The concerto is cut from luminous cloth, and is entirely a romantic and melodic affair. The athletic, technical challenges come in the third movement, and Chen is equally adept at overcoming those challenges in the same way he’s able to revel in the melodic material that dominates the first two movements. Dipping into the schmaltz, the darkest stuff included, is a fun reference to this golden age. Violinist and orchestra together make reference again for me to movie music. Despite the minor key, the third movement spends considerable time in the major mode, the image of two people so happy together. The liner notes tell us the piece’s success owes much to Bruch’s collaboration with Joachim, on whose violin Chen performs. A happy reunion indeed.

This is one of those rare albums for me that gets so much right, deserving of a five star rating. The programming is smart; the inclusion of music written in different formats encourages appreciation of the miniature to the large scale. And while the style of this period has a particularly period reference today, exploring the music again is not a wasted enterprise. To our benefit, we might even go so far to say that the music and the style has improved with age.

—Sebastian Herrera

Link for more information on Ray Chen:

 

 

JANACEK: Glagolitic Mass; Sinfonietta; Taras Bulba; The Fiddler’s Child – Jiri Belohlavek – Decca 

JANACEK: Glagolitic Mass; Sinfonietta; Taras Bulba; The Fiddler’s Child – Jiri Belohlavek – Decca 

JANACEK: Glagolitic Mass; Sinfonietta; Taras Bulba; The Fiddler’s Child – Hibla Gerzmava, soprano/ Veronica Hajnova, alto/ Stuart Neill, tenor/ Jan Martinik, bass/ Czech Philharmonic Orchestra/ Prague Philharmonic Choir/Jiri Belohlavek – Decca 483 4080 (2 CDs) TT: 100:18 (8/31/18) [Distr. by Universal] *****:

Among the last recordings of the late Jiri Belohlavek (1946-2017), the works of Leos Janacek (1854-1928) figure prominently, constituting as they do a Moravian, nationalist tradition that still manages to convey a universality by dint of Janacek’s striking harmonic imagination and capacity for large symphonic canvases. Between the talents of Belohlavek’s Czech predecessors, Vaclav Talich and Karel Ancerl, the music of Janacek had passionate representation, which here finds a potent complement in these recordings, 2013-2017.  We should not forget, moreover, the outstanding performances of Janacek’s works by Rafael Kubelik and Rudolf Kempe, the latter of whom

Portrait of Leos Janacek

Leos Janacek, 1926

The 1924 Taras Bulba, Rhapsody for Orchestra after Gogol (rec. 22-24 October 2014) owes its inspiration to Janacek’s devout passion for Russian literature, an enchantment that led him to consider mounting an opera after Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina.   Gogol conceived his tale of the Cossack warrior in 1835, depicting an adventurer and lover of independence who likewise has an insatiable taste for war. Taras and sons Ostap and Andrei consciously campaign to slaughter any perceived enemies of Christendom. In three movements, the music offers “The Death of Andrei,” “The Death of Ostap,” and “The Death and Prophecy of Taras Bulba.”  Andrei dies by his father’s hand, having gone over to the Polish side for love of a woman. Ostap, captured by the Poles, dies a violent death by torture, worthy of Mel Gibson’s William Wallace. Taras Bulba, too, suffers capture in Poland after he and his Cossacks pillage, loot, and burn. Even as the flames surround him to consume his body, Taras predicts a Russian czar will come who will submit to no foreign power. The music literally combines ceaseless energies and slashing rhythms, bells, organ, in short, jarring phrases and piercing colors, such as the E-flat clarinet that declares Ostap’s death agony.

The popular 1926 Sinfonietta (rec. 22-24 February 2017) began as brass and percussion fanfares for a gymnastics festival of the Czech Armed Forces. The city of Brno no less receives homage here. Of particular note are the trombone parts, the harp, the militant tympani, the wild Prestissimo section, and the stunning, pedal-point climaxes that ever blaze in Janacek with modal, apocalyptic fury. The Andante – Allegretto shares many an effect with Bartok of the Concerto for Orchestra.

For the Glagolitic Mass of 1926 (rec. 3-4 October 2013 of the “September 1927” version), Janacek – an unabashed patriot – rejected the traditional Latin for a more “nationalist” expression of Old Church Slavonic of the Ninth Century. Typical of Janacek, the Mass conveys an uneasy piety, at times pungently operatic, at times idyllically pastoral. The pantheistic elements may remind some of the unorthodoxy of the Cathedral of the Sacred Family by Gaudi. The last movements, Postludium and Intrada – Exodus projects a virtuoso organ solo voluntary performed by Ales Barta, followed by a wild Intrada. Of the many individual movements, the Gloria for soprano, tenor, chorus and organ delivers a vision as anguished as it is beautiful.

Portrait Jiří_Bělohlávek by Jindřich_Nosek

Jiří Bělohlávek, by Jindřich Nosek

If Antonin Dvorak could be accused of a macabre sensibility in his series of Erben-inspired late symphonic poems, so, too, Janacek found an eerie tale by Svatopluk Cech for the 1912 commission from the Czech Philharmonic for an orchestra piece. The Fiddler’s Child (rec. 1-2 October 1915) might parallel Goethe’s Erl-Koenig, insofar as a dead fiddler appears in spirit to his sleeping child playing his instrument; perhaps intending to draw the child away from the world’s ills, the fiddler manages to destroy the child’s life.  The old lady caretaker of the young child proceeds to rock the child’s lifeless body. Janacek adjusts the original tale to conform to a political allegory, with the fiddler alive at first, and the old woman has been replaced by an authoritarian mayor, whose four notes enter on the cellos and double-basses as a kind of “fate” motif. The “wonderful dreams” and possibilities for the child’s future suffer oppression from the likes of the mayor, a clear symbol of tyranny. In the course of the narrative, the low winds enjoy a remarkable series of colors, and the melodic tapestry of the piece becomes exotic and intricate.  The piece premiered in 1917.

Recording Producer Jifi Gemrat and his team of engineers deserve high praise for breadth and immediacy of the performances, more than warm tribute to the devoted master Belohlavek, whose passing denies us a major musical talent.

—Gary Lemco

Keith Jarrett – The Köln Concert – ECM 

Keith Jarrett – The Köln Concert – ECM 

Keith Jarrett – The Köln Concert – ECM Records ECM 1064/65 ST 272 7888 (1975/2018) 180-gram stereo double vinyl [distr. by Universal] 67:33 *****:

(Keith Jarrett – piano)

Keith Jarrett – The Köln Concert is the best-selling solo album in jazz history. It is also the best-selling piano album. Recorded on January 24, 1975 at the Opera House In Cologne, the double vinyl (ECM Records) consisted of four pieces of entirely improvised material that lasted over 67 minutes. Part of the backstory is that Jarrett (who was physically exhausted and suffering from back pain) was expecting to perform on a Bosendorfer 290 Imperial concert grand piano. By mistake, a baby grand Bosendorfer with significantly inferior sound was provided. Jarrett was able to manipulate his piano technique, concentrating on the middle keys, as the upper and lower registers were tinny and the pedal did not function optimally. In a further complication, the concert (the first ever jazz performance at the Köln Opera House) was scheduled for 11:30 P.M.  And that may be the essential quality of a committed, passionate musician; he somehow made this work. Engineer Martin Weiland used a pair of Neumann U-67 vacuum-tube powered condenser microphones and a Telefunken M-5 portable tape machine. The rest is jazz history.

ECM Records has released a 180-gram re-mastered vinyl of The Köln Concert. More then 40 years later, the exhilarating performance still resonates. “Part I” establishes the outlines of complex improvisation over a couple of chord vamps. It begins with a melodic, ethereal touch, influenced by some gospel flair. There are ruminative explorations that are followed by punctuated rhythmic accents. It is an interesting flow as scintillating classical flourishes lead into low-keyed muscular shading. With pulsating intensity and delicate interludes (and yes, some enthusiastic yells), Jarrett manages to convey both restraint and sustained intensity. The aspirational “big finish” is spine-tingling. “Part II a” (a “shorter” 15:00 track) feels like a two-section suite. Jarrett opens with pulsating, hypnotic bass chords. There is a relentless undercurrent. The gospel inflection is more palpable and there are right hand counter melodies and bluesy riffs. At about the halfway point, there is a transition to a wistful, gorgeous flow. With elegiac resonance (but still enough left-hand emphasis), Jarrett caresses the melody with hushed reverence and dramatic intonation. The progression of this jam from basic vamp to expanded airiness glows with eloquence.

“Part II b” also starts with the simple bass chord (s) fueled by unabating energy. Some regard this style as a precursor to later contemporary solo jazz piano. In particular, Jarrett’s commitment to establish a steady repeat of a chord while embellishing it with right hand notation was unheard of, and in some cases criticized among jazz purists. But the theatrical coherence enables the pianist to introduce a number of improvisational additions, including progressive chord modulation. The repeat offers a sprightly counterpoint to pensive gossamer textures. Eventually, there is a shift to a classical-infused elegiac movement. The soothing turn has a hymnal essence that underscores Jarrett’s keen ear for harmonic imagery. The combination of driving rhythm and suppleness is amiable and complex. Side 4 is a brief (under 7 minutes) encore. This track (“Part II c”) embraces elements of compositional structure. The achingly beautiful melody begins joyously with some tempo. The rolling left hand maintains the pace, and the right hand statements are colorful. Jarrett is aware of timed silences. There are moments when notes seem to hang in thin air. He morphs to a slower cadence, and there is an Americana vibe to this part of the arrangement.

ECM’s re-mastered vinyl of The Köln Concert captures the bravado and concert acoustics with amazing precision and vibrancy. The “less than optimal” sharp tonality of the baby grand is rendered as is, without any studio gimmicky. The listener is drawn into the hypnotic, improvisational flows that characterize Jarrett’s style and artistic vision. The black & white cover photo (Wolfgang Frankenstein) is a simple reflection of the meditative visage of this legendary performer. Each additional listen to this concert brings a new-found appreciation for various nuances and innovation.

Keith Jarrett The Köln Concert should be part of any music aficionado’s collection, especially this vinyl reissue!                   

TrackList:
Side 1: Köln January 24, 1975 Part I
Side 2: Köln January 24, 1975 Part II a
Side 3: Köln January 24, 1975 Part II b
Side 4: Koln January 24, 1975 Part II c

—Robbie Gerson

SHOSTAKOVICH: Symphony Nos. 4 & 11 – Boston Symphony Orchestra/ Andris Nelsons – DGG 

SHOSTAKOVICH: Symphony Nos. 4 & 11 – Boston Symphony Orchestra/ Andris Nelsons – DGG 

A Shostakovich cycle of special merit, the Nelsons performances of symphonies 4 and 11 bring the BSO to fever pitch.

SHOSTAKOVICH: Symphony No. 4 in C minor, Op. 43; Symphony No. 11 in G minor, Op. 103 “The Year 1905” – Boston Symphony Orchestra/ Andris Nelsons – DGG B0028595-02 (2 CDs) 64:24; 62:59  (7/6/18) [Distr. by Universal] *****:

The history of the Shostakovich Symphony No. 4 involves a tale of great frustration and upheaval in the life of the composer: soon after the Leningrad Philharmonic under Fritz Stiedry began rehearsals of this intricate and darkly apocalyptic work in August 1936, Soviet authorities  cancelled the premiere on grounds of “elitist formalism,” that the aesthetic tenor of the work failed to conform to Party strictures about the “People’s art.” Already under a cloud created by Josef Stalin’s rebuke of the opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, Shostakovich conceived the Fourth as a kind of aesthetic obstinacy of musical principles. The actual debut of this post-Mahler, mammoth symphonic work came on 30 December 1961, under the direction of Kyrll Kondrashin.  Doubtless, the persistent sense of tension and fear that abides in this music corresponds much to the spirit of the times, when a failure to conform to Stalin’s edicts about “artistic realism” meant censure and possible extinction.

The sheer size of the orchestral forces required—125 musicians, recorded March-April 2018—for the Fourth testify to its “grandiosomania,” as Shostakovich put it. Even Otto Klemperer requested the number of flutes be consolidated from six to four players, but Shostakovich proved implacable in his artistic integrity. The music itself possesses a demonic willful vitality, often explosive to the point of controlled chaos. As a test of orchestral balance in the midst of explosive contrasts, this music exacts from the Boston Symphony a uniformity of sound and illuminated resonance it once achieved under Koussevitzky.  Grim declamation alternates with sardonic vehemence in the course of the three sprawling movements, a result of the Shostakovich fascination with Mahler and Bartok, each a vigorous protestor against the spirit of political or spiritual compulsion.  The last movement, Largo—Allegro, particularly, alternates between solemn determinism and cheery, flippant humor. Richard Svoboda’s bassoon in the last Allegro deserves honorable mention. Unlike the music of Mahler, the Fourth offers few emotional consolations or moments of serene nostalgia.  The universe depicted here remains agonistic, a perpetual struggle of dark and less-dark forces.  What sense of play exists seems gallows humor. The music ends with a long, sustained C in the basses, harps, and murderous tympani, an explosion dissonant and unforgiving, that will eventually yield to a combination from the celesta and tympani over a huge pedal-point that dies away.  The rest is silence.

The Symphony No. 11 in G minor was composed for the 40th anniversary of the Russian Revolution of 1917, introduced originally by conductor Nathan Rachlin in Moscow, 30 October 1957.  Set in four programmatic movements, the eminently “cinematic” score might have its forerunner in Tchaikovsky’s Manfred, except the tableaux depicted by Shostakovich illuminate tragic aspects of the oppressive Tsarist regime that Russia’s proletarian revolt overthrew finally, as if the 1905 political outbursts served as a dress rehearsal for the downfall of the Romanoffs.  On 9 January 1905,  Cossack horse guards savagely opened fire on a peaceful protest-procession outside St. Petersburg’s Winter Palace. Those who died on “Bloody Sunday” fell as martyrs to the cause of the workers.  And thus, Shostakovich utilizes seven folk songs of revolt and two songs he had composed prior, for his “The Ninth of January,” from Ten Poems, Op. 88 (1951). Whether the events of Russia’s suppression of the Hungarian uprising in 1956 serves as sub-text or ulterior “agenda” for this work in the Shostakovich oeuvre remains controversial but entirely feasible.

The four movements of the Eleventh Symphony (rec. September-October 2017) play without a break, opening with the bleak desolation of “The Palace Square,” Adagio.  The sustained low chords—open fifths, muted strings, harps, muffled drum, and solo trumpet—inhabit a misty, twilight world we know from both Mussorgsky and Mahler. By the movement’s end, the brass has assumed a funereal role, playing dirge or eulogy for a way of life. Shostakovich in the second movement, “The Ninth of January,” quotes the folk-hymn, “O thou, our Tsar, our Father?” The question will become strictly rhetorical once the violence breaks out. The Cossack assault gains an implacable momentum, having released both eddies of sound and a poisonous march. The BSO basses achieve a frigid, eerie resonance whose figures might recall harmonies in Boris Gudonov.  A second folk song, “Bare your heads,” implies both the futile piety of the slain procession and a call for us to mourn the loss of Russian national ideals. Here, the BSO brass and battery proceed mercilessly. The similarities in harmony to militant points in the Leningrad Symphony (No. 7) become blatant and painfully obvious.  The movement ends with the haunted sensibility of the opening movement, a beloved country’s having become a wasteland.

The third movement, “Eternal Memory,” Adagio, utilizes an actual funeral march, “You fell as victims” as its melodic impetus. A nation buries its dead, a moment of cosmic sadness Prokofiev had likewise captured in his Alexandre Nevsky oratorio. Shostakovich claimed that among the protestors that “Bloody Sunday” had been his own father. Set as a series of variations, the third movement provides the requiem which exploits a slow ostinato figure. The repeated four notes could easily be the Shostakovich equivalent of a “fate” motif. When the melody soars full force, the effect—given the drum beats underlining the crescendos—is Mahlerian. The last movement, “The Tocsin,” Allegro non troppo, sets four marching—even galloping—tunes in motion in remarkable combination and permutation. The Russian word for “tocsin,” Nabat, had been the name of a revolutionary magazine that appeared in 19th Century Russia.  Songs such as “Rage, tyrants?” “Sparks,” and “Whirlwinds of danger” infiltrate the rousing texture, leaving us both viscerally beguiled and emotionally dubious as to whether we feel genuine triumph or that “forced gaiety” with which the Fifth Symphony likewise embraces.

There can be doubt, however, that Producer and Engineer Shawn Murphy has a real coup in these sound documents, as rousing testaments to the Boston Symphony as I have heard since the heydays of Koussevitzky, Steinberg, and Leinsdorf.

—Gary Lemco

DEBUSSY: Images, Books I-II; Children’s Corner; Suite bergamasque; L’Isle joyeuse – Seong-Jin Cho, piano – DGG

DEBUSSY: Images, Books I-II; Children’s Corner; Suite bergamasque; L’Isle joyeuse – Seong-Jin Cho, piano – DGG

Seong-Jin Cho’s Debussy recital for DGG confirms his place in the Debussy tradition set by Gieseking and Michelangeli.

DEBUSSY: Images, Books I-II; Children’s Corner; Suite bergamasque; L’Isle joyeuse – Seong-Jin Cho, piano – DGG 479 8308, 72:47 (11/17/17)  [Distr. by Universal] *****:

South Korean pianist Seong-Jin Cho (b. 1994) recently appeared for the Steinway Society in the Bay Area, a concert which I attended, so I can well attest to his predilection for the music of Claude Debussy, a product of Cho’s studies at the Paris Conservatory with Michel Beroff. Debussy’s fascination with light has often borne comparison with the paintings of his admired J.M.W. Turner, the master of gradations of visual hues.  So, too, the first set of Images (1905) declares its independence from traditional diatonic harmony and embraces modal and whole-tone scales and sonorities of the East, particularly of the gamelan orchestra of Bali and Indonesia. Debussy relishes the blurring of phrase lengths, and he often eschews resolved chords based on tonal harmony. Cho emphasizes the perfect fifth in the bass chords of Reflets dans l’eau, set in D-flat Major, the opening of which suggests a disturbance in standing water whose ripple effects we follow as they undulate and cast sunlight in various directions. The three key notes: A-flat, F, E-flat assume a kind of chime effect, not far removed from the tolling Debussy achieves in his great prelude “The Sunken Cathedral.” Cho urges gentle, bright tones from his selected Steinway instrument, so that pianissimo chords, too, elicit a range of color.

Cho enters the Hommage a Rameau at a noble, sarabande pace, clarion, staid, intimate. The colors Cho projects simmer in a vague pentatonic sensibility, Eastern, but whose rhythmic pulse has become almost static. Eventually, the martial atmosphere becomes more declamatory, yet the mood of pensive reverence for the composer of Les Fetes de Polymnie—Debussy had been editing the opera at the time—never wavers, given that Polyhymnia serves as the Muse of Epic Poetry.  Cho gently, but firmly, urges the relentless sixteenth triplets of Mouvement with a fervor that gathers fanfare motifs, which seem a celebration of perpetual motion for its own sake. The percussion remains soft, reverberant in a haze that quite defines the Debussy style.

Book II of Images (1907), similar to the structure of Book I, opens with two slow movements. For the first piece, Cloches a travers les feuilles, Debussy reverses musical evolution, beginning in modal harmony in whole tones, and then reverting to bells heard in the diatonic scale. The second piece, Et la lune descend sur le temple qui fut, projects a mystical still-life, a hymn that traces a progressive melodic line. For the third piece, Poissons d’or, Debussy found inspiration in a Japanese lacquer of two fighting fish, whose quick and deft movements and thrashing in water become a virtuoso etude for the intended recipient, Spanish piano virtuoso Ricardo Vines. Cho invokes the bells of the village of Rahon with pearly grace, more droplets than bell tolls. We might think Cho’s art a distillation of the styles of both Gieseking and Michelangeli. Both the village of Rahon and the dedication of the next piece, “The Moon Descends upon the Temple that Was,” pay respects to Louis Laloy, a sinologist who served as Debussy’s first biographer. If gossamer cascades of bells ring through the first piece, the opening chord of the ruined temple signifies, as from Baudelaire, a stored, non-cadential image of detachment, leading to a world of pagodas draped in Cho’s especial evocation of stillness.  Connoisseurs of the Debussy oeuvre will note the “well” motif in his opera Pelleas et Melisande now absorbed into the tissue of his Poissons d’or, the harmonic chemistry complementing the nervous passions just beneath the glittery surface.

Debussy’s 1908 Children’s Corner, the suite of six pieces, originally meant to celebrate Debussy’s daughter Claude-Emma, but the sensibility nods to Schumann’s Kinderszenen, childhood memories now appreciated in the light of experience. Flowing, muted arpeggios from Cho mark the opening Doctor Gradus ad Panassum, Debussy’s concentrated equivalent of much of Bach’s WTC by way of Clementi. The mock-heavy tread of Jimbo’s Lullaby serenades a toy elephant named after the famous pachyderm of P.T. Barnum.  Debussy’s creature may well be the Indian species, given the pentatonic nature of his dance. That same penchant for the Orient permeates Serenade for the Doll, a porcelain princess ready to be carted by a rhythmic rickshaw. The Snow is Dancing might remind us of that wintry crystal held by Charles Foster Kane in Orson Welles’s classic film, reminiscing his whole life’s history in the word “Rosebud.” As a kind of etude, this piece rivals Liszt’s Leggierezza for diaphanous transparency. The Little Shepherd reminds us of how much plainchant the Debussy style imbibes. The piece plays as parlando study, much as his piano prelude The Girl with the Flaxen Hair. The famous, jazzy Golliwog’s Cakewalk capitalizes on images created by Florence K. Upton of the black-faced doll who appears in the course of John Huston’s biography of Lautrec, Moulin Rouge. In the midst of syncopes, Wagner’s Tristan appears, perhaps a romantic conceit of which the new century was no longer capable.

The Suite bergamasque seems to have evolved between 1890 and 1905, and it looks both backward to an antique style while looking forward to the “impressionistic” harmony that Debussy refined after his own discoveries in Ravel.  Cho performs the opening Prelude as a flowing improvisation, a cascade of liquid figures and declamations, infiltrated by a heightened pearly play. The Menuet may derive from Haydn, but the harmonies belong to Debussy, and they often hint at the East. Cho imbues the dance with a palpable voluptuousness. Very slow, Cho’s performance of Clair de lune wants to sustain the moonlight for a long evening of amorous contemplation, the Andante marking’s asking lovers to view the moon through the wonder of trees. Cho’s hands must perform separate function in the Passepied, with the left hand staccato throughout while the right builds a melody that sways and lilts with nostalgia.

Debussy’s L’Isle joyeuse perhaps serves the same virtuoso function that Balakirev’s Islamey does for his oeuvre.  The original inspiration might derive from a Watteau painting The Embarkation for Cythera, the legendary Island of Joy. Debussy selects the Lydian form of the A Major scale to exploit a six-note theme, producing a heightened rusticity in the progress of the piece, with its eddies and swirls of color. The natural A Major scale defines the secondary melody, which rises in volume and power over more liquid runs and cascading impulses and trills. Debussy introduces increasing major thirds and whole tones to augment the effect of a magical world, as filled with turmoil as sensual bliss. We might think of his Nocturne “Fetes” in the page of martial ferocity that erupts in multifarious, contrapuntal colors. The paroxysm of earthly joy lie in those final tremolos, rendered with vibrant gusto by a true acolyte of the Debussy style.

—Gary Lemco

Sing, animated Blu-ray (2017)

Sing, animated Blu-ray (2017)

A bunch of animals save a dying theater with their acts.

Sing, Blu-ray (2017)

Voice-overs: Matthew McConaughey, Reese Witherspoon, Seth MacFarlane, Scarlett Johansson, Taron Egerton
Director: Garth Jennings
Studio: Illuminations/ Universal  61180480 (3/21/17) [2 discs]
Video: 1.85:1 for 16:9 widescreen HD color
Audio: English DD multichannel 5.1, DD. 2.0 stereo, French DD 5.1, Spanish DD 5.1
Subtitles: French, Spanish
All regions
Extras: Three mini-movies (animated), Music video with Tori Kelly, The Best of Gunter, Character profiles, Ultraviolet, more…
Length: 216 min.
Rating: ****1/2

While not as great as the Pixar efforts, this family animated feature is great fun. Though the singing is really not the major part of the movie, there are 85 songs in it. The story line is better than most kid’s films and the various animal characters are a great surprise.

Buster is the determined little koala bear who is struggling to save his theater. He sometimes stretches the truth, but his passion and optimism are contagious. His alligator office lady makes an error on the prize for a singing competition he distributes from $1000 to $100,00, and a huge line of hopeful animals come to try out the auditions. There is Rosita – a selfless homemaker and mother of 25 piglets who hopes something more. She is paired up with dancer/singer pig Gunther, who tries to get Rosita to loosen up. Johnny is a soulful gorilla with a lovely voice whose father robs banks and expects Johnny to be the driver. Meena is a shy teenage elephant with a great voice but a terrible case of stage fright. Ash is a teenage porcupine girl who makes it as a finalist, unlike her jerk of a boyfriend. She throws out quills during climaxes in her performance. Mike is a little self-centered mouse who plays the trumpet and sings like Sinatra.

Together they save the day and Buster by creating a brand new show and theater when the original theater burns down. The images are crisp and the sound of the various songs is top rate. The mini-movies use characters from the feature film and are not as worthwhile viewing.  An enjoyable family film for sure. Reese Witherspoon doesn’t have a bad voice either.

—John Sunier

Audio News for January 13, 2017

Things Alexa Cannot Yet Do – The shortfall of Alexa’s IFTT integration is the lack of any actions whatsoever. You cannot complete a task for have Alexa play a tune. You must divide every command into its own statement – no trying to get Alexa to do more than one thing at a time. There are currently no notifications, audio or visual. It would be nice if Alexa spoke the name of the person calling you, but no. Only three words wake Alexa devices: Alexa, Amazon or the name of the device – no customized wake words. There is no voice-memo function – you cannot leave messages for others in your household. Alexa does not distinguish different voices. If you have multiple Amazon devices around the house, you cannot speak to just one of them and Alexa will not stream the same music to all your Echo speakers, but you can with Google Home and Chromecast.

“This Decade Belongs to Gustavo Dudamel and His Innovative Ways” is a statement by the author of an article Can Classical Music Survive With Shedding Its Obsessions with Purism? It came about due to the current musical film La La Land, which has swept the Golden Globes for this year. It is about two young white people trying to save a black cultural product – jazz – and finding meaning in the thespian world respectively.  Its success is attributed to Hollywood’s approval of a narcissism rooted in the idea of “the white man’s burden” and self-referentialism.

The South-American conductor Dudamel inspired the popular TV series Mozart in the Jungle, and is responsible for the “popification” of classical music. What was once pop and has now become classical. Today a minuscule fraction of the world population goes to classical concerts. Only something like 8% of Americans attended a classical concert in the last year. Several orchestras have filed for bankruptcy. Purists may be the biggest enemy of the art they aim to protect. But what may benefit the purist and the experimentalist broadens the audience base, aided by innovative ways of engagement. La La Land may inspire some searches for “jazz” you know.

All Three Major Labels, Pandora & RIAA Support Hi-Res Streaming – Universal, Sony and Warner, the RIAA, and music platforms such as Pandora, Rhapsody/Napster and HD Tracks have announced their support for studio-quality hi-res audio for music streaming. All are members of the DEG (Digital Entertainment Group), which has a new Stream the Studio marketing campaign. It is aimed at millennials and promotes the benefits of hi-res compatible devices, technologies and music. Now the question is how long before these services offer premium audio tiers?

MOZART: Piano Concerto No. 17 in G Major; Piano Concerto No. 25 in C Major – The Cleveland Orch./ Mitsuko Uchida, p. and cond. – Decca

MOZART: Piano Concerto No. 17 in G Major; Piano Concerto No. 25 in C Major – The Cleveland Orch./ Mitsuko Uchida, p. and cond. – Decca

Pianist-director Uchida instills both pomp and poetry into her latest survey of the Mozart concertos.

MOZART: Piano Concerto No. 17 in G Major, K. 453; Piano Concerto No. 25 in C Major, K. 503 – The Cleveland Orch./ Mitsuko Uchida, piano and cond. – Decca 483 0716, 67:23 (10/28/16) [Distr. by Universal] **** :

Piano virtuoso Mitsuko Uchida (b. 1948) has systematically been re-examining the Mozart selected-concerto cycle, a project she embarked upon years ago with conductor Jeffrey Tate and the English Chamber Orchestra.  This present combination of the concertos in G Major and C Major completes her current project, the recordings made 11-13 February 2016 in live performance in Severance Hall, Cleveland.  We have had excellent Mozart from Cleveland prior, under George Szell, with such distinguished soloists as Rudolf Serkin and Robert Casadesus.  Auditors may find Uchida’s latest renditions somewhat precious and lacking in spontaneity, but the clarity and fluidity of ensemble remains undeniable. The two concertos, written for Mozart’s own use for a series of Vienna premieres between 1784-1786, gives us music which allowed Mozart to show off his keyboard virtuosity while he expanded his notion of concerto procedure, experimenting, for example, with the stile brise in the G Major Concerto and modal shifts in the huge C Major Concerto.

Uchida has a happily “singing” concept of Mozart’s keyboard style, and so the development section of the G Major Concerto first movement assumes a luxurious patina with the piano’s upward rocket figures and within the interplay with the Cleveland wind section. We often note how often Mozart favors wind ensemble textures for his piano concertos, with their concomitant chamber music textures. After just five bars in the Andante movement, Mozart breaks off the string sound so that the flute, oboe, and bassoon may indulge in an operatic trio. Here, the various “broken” melodic lines ask the piano to transition into the minor mode twice, before the piano has freer range to mount scalar passages that cover over two octaves.  My own teacher, Jean Casadesus, held an exalted opinion of this movement, which he often quoted in his Piano Literature class.  The wind trio dialogues with the keyboard late in the movement, ending with the piano’s trills and the suspended cadence for the intimate cadenza, the latter of which resembles several of the Mozart solo fantasies. The last movement, Allegretto – Finale: Presto, displays Mozart’s fertile imagination in variation form, often in the manner of opera buffa. Mozart writes out the repeats to add to the colossal dimension of his ironic wit, in which the bassoon has its share of the humor. Variation four descends into a haunted minor that hovers between Don Giovanni and the Masonic Funeral Music, only to be cast off rudely by an energized tutti. The extended coda emerges in the manner of Papageno/Papagena duet, all aflutter and in brilliant filigree, aided by clever wind figures. A series of false cadences permeates the close, as if Mozart were unwilling to part with such a clever, rambunctious child of his unique genius.

I owe my love for the 1786 Concerto No. 25 in C Major to Professor Waldbauer and his Form-and-Analysis class at SUNY Binghamton, in which he provided us a rubric for the piece, based on the aesthetic theory of affects: risoluto, espesssivo, dolce, and scherzando, each of which appears in exactly this sequence in the course of the epic first movement. Uchida softens the militant character of the opening theme, whose trumpets and drums soon yield to a tendency to declare c minor as the dominant mode of expression. The repeated four-note riff on G marks a new series of tunes that evolve – without the solo’s uttering the march theme in its own exposition. At moments, Uchida’s sonority plays alla musette, adding an especially delicate color to an otherwise majestic pageant and panoply of ideas.  The strict polyphony that intertwines the several moods and contrasting emotions of the movement testifies to Mozart’s synoptic vision, that same capacity for a contrapuntal paradigm that dominates his Jupiter Symphony.  The extensive discourse of the first movement has a tender reprieve in the Andante, with its penchant for long-held chords and pedal points, especially in the horns. The movement proceeds in the manner of an aria that soon becomes a timeless notturno for piano and various winds. The piano part from Uchida, too, comes in long notes that skip along two octaves.  The processional element returns for the Allegretto, a pomposo gavotte that serves for a rondo with an uncanny middle section in F Major. Here, Uchida has the support of the Cleveland cello line. Uchida milks this sequence for its Romantic content, abetted in her intensity by the woodwinds, particularly oboe and flute. The transition to the main rondo tune comes fluently and without affectation, a royal excursion into the pomp and circumstance of an aristocratic temperament. Once more, Mozart’s capacity to make scales sing comes to the fore in the tutti, and the Everest of piano concertos ends with decisive energy.

—Gary Lemco

Snowden (Oliver Stone), Blu-ray (2016)

Snowden (Oliver Stone), Blu-ray (2016)

A gripping political thriller as Oliver Stone can make.

Snowden (Oliver Stone), Blu-ray (2016)

Cast: Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Shailene Woodley, Melissa Leo, Tom Wilkinson, Zachary Quinto
Director: Oliver Stone
Studio: Open Road/ Universal Studios Home Ent. 55176941 (12/27/16) 2 discs
Video: 2.40:1 for 16:9 screens, HD color
Audio: English DTS-HD MA 5.1, DD 5.1
Subtitles: English SDH, French, Spanish
No region encoding
Extras: Digital copy incl. UltraViolet, Deleted scenes, “Find the Truth,” Q & A with Snowden, Previews
Length: 270 min.
Rating: ****1/2

Probably the most important true story of the 21st century so far, this Oliver Stone film doesn’t present anything new but is certainly more exciting than any of the various Snowden films before. The whole detailed background of the controversial figure is given in the film. And quite a bit of his relationship with his girlfriend, who now resides with him in Moscow. He exposed the shocking illegal surveillance actives of the NSA and became one of the most wanted men in the world. His relationships with several of the top people in the CIA are revealed.

Stone keeps this a politically-charged thriller from beginning to end but there is no denying that he thinks Snowden is a hero and not a traitor.

—John Sunier

Audio News for December 20, 2016

Audio Issue with Google Pixel Smartphones – All Google Pixel XL smartphones, when you crank up the volume to one of the last three volume settings, produce a static distortion. Not heard on other smartphones. Google doesn’t seem to know about the problem.

DEG Hi-Res Audio Pavillion at CES – The Digital Entertainment Group will have a coalition of Hollywood studios, CE retailers, manufacturers, technology providers, and the Recording Academy Producers & Engineers Wing at the Pavillion, in the Central Hall of the LVCC. People from the RIAA, Japan Audio Society, MQA Ltd, and the major music labels (there are only Warners and Universal now) will also be there. Their  goal is “to bring a studio-quality experience to a new generation of fans.”  A series of live sessions with award-winning music producers and engineers will take place. Attendees will get insight into the process of creating hi-res studio-quality recordings and a perspective on how to better appreciate these recordings as a listener.

Classical Music Helps Men at Work (But Not Women) – New research at the Imperial College London and the Royal College of Music was part of the Centre for Performance Science, and was part of their wider research into the effect of music on performance, particularly in a medical setting. Music is reportedly played by the 72% of the time in an operating theater – however experts are divided on whether it has a beneficial effect. The researchers said that classical music was the best option of men when concentrating on a task, and rock music might hinder their chances. Results with men who listened to Mozart vs. AC/DC showed that they made more mistakes in a video game on rock. Music was found to have no effect on women’s performance. They took longer to play the game, but made fewer mistakes.

Audio is Next Emphasis in Sony’s Resurgence – After a new philosophy that streamlined its TV and camera divisions, Sony is putting an emphasis on audio with their acclaimed Z-series UHD displays. A Sony representative said “…we’ve neglected a segment of the industry we can do well with.” Their soundbars, over-the-ear headphones, Wi-Fi-speaker systems and AVRs are potential growth areas. The recently-released MDR-1000x Bluetooth-active noise-canceling headphones are designed to take on and surpass similar products from Plantronics and Bose and become the noise-canceling market leader. (Anything cheaper and better than Bose should be of great interest.)

MOZART: Le nozze di Figaro, (The Marriage of Figaro) (complete opera) – DGG (3)

MOZART: Le nozze di Figaro, (The Marriage of Figaro) (complete opera) – DGG (3)

A fine mid-course addition to what is proving an excellent series.

MOZART: Le nozze di Figaro, K492 (complete opera) – Thomas Hampson (Conte)/ Sonya Yoncheva (Contessa)/ Angela Brower (Cherubino)/ Christiane Karg (Susanna)/ Luca Pisaroni (Figaro)/ Maurizio Muraro (Bartolo)/ Anne Sofie von Otter (Marcellina)/ Philippe Sly (Antonio)/ Regula Mühlemann (Barbarina)/ Rolando Villazón (Basilio)/ Jean-Paul Fouchécourt (Don Curzio)/ Ch. Orch. of Europe & Vocalensemble Rastatt/ Yannick Nézet-Séguin – DGG 4795945 (3 CDs), TT: 173:34 [Distr. by Universal] ****:

Record reviewers don’t seem to know what to make of this latest installment of the Rolando Villazón-inspired series of the seven mature operas of Mozart (this is number four). Metropolitan opera designee conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin has had interesting things to say so far, and this, arguably the most popular of all Mozart’s operas, gets similar treatment. So what exactly is this?

Simply, modernly brisk though tasteful tempos, period instrument brass punctuations and over-dynamic forte explosions, crisp string playing, and an insistence that the drama keeps moving. Though modern instruments are used, they are employed with ancient instrument sensibilities even though the more lyrical passages actually sound lyrical and not like the all-too-typical rubber band sound of many period instrument recordings. The singers are also exhorted to keep up the pace, but in fairness some of your favorite dramatic exposés that serve as highlights to the opera are given due consideration and breadth.

This is not Giulini (with its amazing cast), nor even Solti (lesser but still great cast and much better sound), so it can’t be rated “best ever”. You’ll have to boost the bass (as I have with almost all recent DGG recordings since I first started buying them in the early seventies), but there is a lot of clarity and warmth to the recording. The singing is universally excellent– Sonya Yoncheva’s Contessa is passionate and glowing, one of the best portrayals in years. Likewise Luca Pisaroni’s Figaro, maybe the standard for the youthful century. Thomas Hampson’s third Conte is more reflective, less declamatory, a burnished and well-considered performance that will disappoint some who prefer to revel in the luxuries of the earlier voice. Christiane Karg does fine work as Susanna, with no noticeable weakness and much spot-on emotional fervency. Angela Brower’s Cherubino has seen much criticism as lackluster and underdeveloped, but I think these assessments are over-reactive and due more to the conductor’s demanding tempos—or maybe I am just spoiled by the likes of Frederica von Stadt. Marcellina’s Act Four aria, ‘Il capro e la capretta,’ is often excluded from both staged performances and recordings of the opera, but because of the presence of Anne Sophie von Otter it is here included, and she stamps it with her usual ability and authority.

The recording has also suffered from critics who deplore both its lack of overall dramatic arch, and its decided emphasis of such! While it is true that a staged performance might have added to the sense of action, this live concert reading does a fine job of conveying Da Ponte’s miraculously clear and convincing theatrical scenario. There is much, much to enjoy in this performance, a fresh take on an opera that can take it, and proof in the pudding that there is just no exhausting the wealth of riches found in this masterpiece. Great fun, expertly rendered, and reason enough to give it a try.

—Steven Ritter

“Under Stalin’s Shadow” = SHOSTAKOVICH: Symphonies Nos.  5 in d, 8 in c, 9 in E-flat; Suite from Hamlet – Boston SO/ Andris Nelsons – DGG (2 CDs)

“Under Stalin’s Shadow” = SHOSTAKOVICH: Symphonies Nos. 5 in d, 8 in c, 9 in E-flat; Suite from Hamlet – Boston SO/ Andris Nelsons – DGG (2 CDs)

A fine follow-up to the Grammified first release.

“Under Stalin’s Shadow” = SHOSTAKOVICH: Symphonies Nos.  5 in d, 8 in c, 9 in E-flat; Suite from Hamlet – Boston SO/ Andris Nelsons – DGG 479 5201 (2 CDs), 76:44, 80:54 [Distr. by Universal] ****:

It’s very nice to hear the BSO back on DGG. It’s also nice that they have engaged in a Shostakovich project. The first disc won a Grammy award, and the next promised recording will have Symphonies 6 and 7. The composer, who is now reaching a popularity that didn’t seem possible during the cold war, is being reassessed in a number of ways, turning away from the more overtly political associations that so mark many recordings and performances, and emphasizing the humanity of the man’s music in the midst of incredibly difficult circumstances. So the title of this release seems a little strange considering that fact that Maestro Nelsons himself says that this music is applicable to any listener, whether understanding of the circumstances it was written in or not.

Oh well, I guess you need catchy marketing to sell records these days! But from a purely musical standing these are excellent readings all. The Eighth doesn’t collapse under weight of its own complexities, and is given a reading of measured strength and dignity, the BSO strings especially impressive. The Ninth is suitably bouncy and joyous, full of good humor and mischief. The Fifth however, under the burden of so much history, is generally moving and acceptable, but lacks the last degree of passion and tight control that make this work so riveting. Bernstein still owns this work, and though Nelsons is good, he’s not quite to the plateau. I might note that Nelson takes the view that the last bars of the last movement should be played twice as slow as usual, a position that Benjamin Zander also espouses. It’s far from clear whether the composer meant this or not, and it should be said that Bernstein’s performance before the composer in Moscow elicited no corrections.

The BSO sound great, and the sound is up to the playing.

—Steven Ritter

Audio News for September 9, 2016

Everything by Mozart Gets 200-CD Set – Decca Classics has now released a massive 200-disc box set for Mozart completlists. DGG also participated in the Universal Music Group release titled Mozart 225: The New Complete Edition, which arrives late next month. It contains all his symphonies, concertos and all 22 operas plus a newly-discovered composition. (It was a friendly competition with Antonio Salieri and involved a song.) There are also two hardcover books, with a new biography and several frame-worthy prints. The collection was created in partnership with the Salzburg Mozarteum Foundation and Mozart expert Cliff Eisen. Amazon will sell it for $479.36, while Presto Classical appears to have it for only $350. Other Mozart products being prepared are a 33-DVD package all of his operas, a 3-CD collection of “singles,” digital download bundles, streaming albums and themed playlists. The box set consists of 4000 tracks, with 15,000 minutes of music, 600 performers and ensembles, 60 orchestras, 20 different record labels, 5 hours of newly-recorded performances, two hours recorded on Mozart’s own instruments, and it would take ten days to listen to all the music. 70% of the recordings are different from the last major Mozart box set.

Video Games Aren’t Just for Kids Anymore – The AARP claims playing video games for those over 65 can combat loneliness and isolation. Gaming is very popular among people 50 and older and the popularity is growing. 41 million older Americans play video games regularly and 3/4ths play weekly. They allow a little break from the real world, they enhance digital skills and they are good exercise for the mind. They are accessible to almost everyone, and have come a long ways since Pong. Video gaming can also connect the generations as young and old play together. AARP and ESA sponsor Social Connection GameJam,  in which university teams design game concepts to promote positive and sustainable social connection among users. The AARP has a book My Digital Entertainment for Seniors, in which an entire chapter deals with video games, devices, rating systems and more. Video games can potentially help us all age better.

Sony, Microsoft & Others Shift to Faster Video Game Hardware – The most powerful companies in the video game industry are releasing pricey new hardware more frequently to keep pace with fast-changing technology and a growing array of rivals. Sony will release their higher-end PlayStation 4 this week – better equipped to handle VR and ultra-hi-def graphics. It also will have a slimmer, less expensive version. Microsoft will have a more powerful Xbox One next year, and a loss-costly Xbox One S now.

The New Apple iPhone 7 Has No Standard Headphone Port – They want you to buy their $160 Air Pod wireless headphones, which ear buds look like the worthless white ones that are ruining the hearing of millions of young people around the world. But the new phones will come with a free adaptor which allows you to use your present headphones, though separately they are $9.

Gilels in Seattle = Works of BEETHOVEN, CHOPIN, PROKOFIEV, RAVEL, DEBUSSY, STRAVINSKY & BACH – DGG

Gilels in Seattle = Works of BEETHOVEN, CHOPIN, PROKOFIEV, RAVEL, DEBUSSY, STRAVINSKY & BACH – DGG

DGG restores a colossal recital from the Russian legend Gilels.

Gilels in Seattle = BEETHOVEN: Sonata No. 21 in C Major, Op. 53 “Waldstein”; CHOPIN: Variations on “La ci darem la mano,” Op. 2; PROKOFIEV: Piano Sonata No. 3 in a minor, Op. 28; Visions fugitives, Op. 22 – excerpts; DEBUSSY: Images, Book I; RAVEL: Alborado del gracioso from Miroirs; STRAVINSKY: Danse russe from Petrouchka; J.S. BACH (arr. Siloti): Prelude in b minor, BWV 855a – Emil Gilels, p. – DGG 479 6288, 74:47 (9/2/16) [Distr. by Universal] ****: 

Emil Gilels (1916-1985) appeared in Seattle’s Opera House 6 December 1964 as part of his fifth tour of the United States. The private tape of the recital, made with professional equipment, came under the aegis of Deutsche Grammophone via pianist Felix Gottlieb, a former pupil of Gilels who had established the Emil Gilels Foundation and who runs the Emil Gilels Festival in Freiburg im Breisgau. The surviving recital had to dispense with the Chopin Ballade No. 1, the recording of which had lost several moments.  Only the variations on Mozart by Chopin have ever appeared on records prior.

Despite somewhat distant microphone placement, the opening 1803 Waldstein Sonata reveals a virtuoso pianist in smart music.  The Gilels sonority in ostinato energy, runs, and trills penetrates deeply, and his capacity for liquid velocity seems limitless. Beethoven had conceived much of keyboard tessitura for his new Erard piano and its upward extension of the treble, and this expanded range of colors would inform the brilliant last movement. After the feverish first movement, the Introduzione: Adagio molto appears to meander, lost in a contemplative world of its own, rife with a plastic tension. Gilels moves the eerie figures along to their pre-conceived end, as a bridge to the rondo theme and its arpeggios that reflect the ostinati of the first movement. The originally gentle rondo theme – and Gilels can lull this theme provocatively – acquires increased velocity and violence as the dance progresses, and Gilels does not soften the tissue for the sake of sentiment. Almost needless to say, Gilels’ work at the Prestissimo coda leaves us agog.

Chopin was a sensationally gifted seventeen-year-old when he composed his (concertante) version of variants on Mozart’s aria from Don Giovanni, “La ci darem la mano.”  Flowers and velvet seem to pour forth form Gilels’ piano, given the innate bel canto of Chopin’s milieu. Each of the six variations bespeaks the course Chopin set for his body of work, from the bold declamations of an etude to the exquisite nocturne, to the lively polonaise to which has transformed Mozart’s original aria of bemused seduction. We might concur with Robert Schumann, who, in speaking of Chopin, proclaimed, “Hats off, gentlemen, a Genius!” and so say of Emil Gilels.

The music of Serge Prokofiev figured significantly in Emil Gilels’ personal history, his having been chosen to debut the Sonata No. 8. The dazzling seven minutes of Prokofiev’s a minor Sonata, Op. 28 open with Gilels’ Allegro tempestoso in triplets and then fortissimo to a second subject. Prokofiev claims that the subject matter comes “from old notebooks,” and that the contrast should come Moderato, tranquillo pianissimo, legato and semplice e dolce. Gilels seems a bit sanguine to allow the gentler aspects their intimacy. The original energies dominate, and Gilels moves with stupendous force to the monstrous climax, fortissimo and con elevazione. From the 1915-17 group of Visions fugitives Gilels proffers six, each vignette in color and dynamics, close to the terse spirit of Scriabin. Nos 1, 3, and 5 each sparkle with an ethereal impressionism. The accented dissonances of No. 11 always attract Gilels, who favors this study in contrary-motion scale patterns. No. 10 provides a jumpy etude marked Ridicolosamente. The last, Poetico, conveys an elusive veil of notes.

Quite a transition in color and dynamics as we enter Debussy’s rarified world, liquefied and sensuous in Reflets dans l’eau, the first of the three Images. Velocity in pearly points of light – by way of a perfect fifth – cascades exuberantly and then disperses.  The same canny pedal that illuminated the Beethoven now applies in Hommage a Rameau, whose subtle metrics slide delicately in the solemn harmony of a sarabande. Gilels deftly takes on “the implacable rhythm” of ostinato triplets for Mouvement, a study in what the composer calls “whimsical lightness.” Maurice Ravel makes his appearance as the last of the “formal” recital, with his Spanish piece de bravura, Alborada del gracioso, a piece Dinu Lipatti conquers totally. Castanets, guitar effects, and flamenco rhythms converge in a sultry brew from Gilels, who knows duende when he feels it. The audience explodes enough to warrant the two encores, of which the Danse russe bristles with manic authority. The Siloti arrangement of Bach’s b minor Prelude has served Gilels much as Traumerei worked for Horowitz. The lovely gradations of color and inflection add that sense of eternity of which the great pianists own the patent.

—Gary Lemco

Martha Argerich Early Recordings (Works of MOZART, BEETHOVEN, PROKOFIEV, RAVEL – DGG (2 discs)

Martha Argerich Early Recordings (Works of MOZART, BEETHOVEN, PROKOFIEV, RAVEL – DGG (2 discs)

Youthful studio recordings by Martha Argerich provide admirers with several important works added to her discography.  

Martha Argerich – Early Recordings = MOZART: Piano Sonata No. 18 in D Major, K. 576; BEETHOVEN: Piano Sonata No. 7 in D Major, Op. 10, No. 3; PROKOFIEV: Toccata, Op. 11; Piano Sonata No. 3 in a minor, Op. 29; Piano Sonata No. 7 in B-flat Major, Op. 83; RAVEL: Gaspard de la Nuit; Sonatine – Martha Argerich, p. – DGG  479 5978 (2 CDs) 36:00, 54:50 (5/20/16) [Distr. by Universal] ****:

Assembled from German studio recordings made in Cologne and Hamburg, 1960 and 1967, these performances by Argentine virtuoso Martha Argerich (b. 1941) complement her commercial records with works that tend to reveal a more intellectual string in her multicolored harp. Having studied with German virtuoso-pedagogue Friedrich Gulda, Argerich reveals a personality that eschews mere imitation of a respected master. The first movement of Mozart’s 1789 D Major Sonata (23 January 1960) – which Argerich had prepared for the 1957 Busoni Competition in Balzano – enjoys a lusty energy that imparts notable buoyancy to its canonic devices, its “trumpet” fanfares, and penchant for two-part imitation. The intimacy of the occasion lights up the A Major Adagio, which basks in galant serenity. The last movement Allegretto becomes an object lesson in accented triplets, rife with easy virtuosity.  The graceful fluency of the performance attests to a potent sense of style that does not devolve into fitful aggression. This Mozart sonata may serve as perhaps the only such document we have of Argerich in this repertory.

The Beethoven 1798 D Major Sonata (rec. 8 September 1960) presents Argerich in a more manic mode than we find in the survey of this Beethoven sonata by her mentor Gulda. The opening Presto – even in its own time – demanded much from the pianists of Beethoven’s day, given the intention to expand the keyboard beyond what the instrument could provide, but which the modern keyboard can accommodate, high and low. The alternations of dynamic coloring that Argerich invests into the series of cascading runs and witty dialogues makes us wonder at their hues and their speed of execution.

Whatever sturm und drang the music possesses becomes explicit in the affecting Largo e mesto second movement, whose deep bass tones and high whispers resonate with a pungency that might suit the medium of the string quartet. A three-note pattern haunts the text of this often tragic movement, a trope that the last movement redeems with humor. The stately grace we find in Argerich’s congenial Menuetto manages to communicate the power of her trill and graduated dynamics, when required. The last movement Rondo displays mercurial, quicksilver grace and feline litheness, at once.  The explosive gallops testify as much to Beethoven’s iconoclastic classicism as they do to Argerich “the thoroughbred racehorse.”

It could be that Argerich was born to play the music of Prokofiev, as the items on Disc 2 indicate. The 1912 Toccata (rec. 16 September 1960) has a fury and relentlessness that easily usurps her later 1961 commercial record for DGG. The “transcendent virtuosity” applies to both composer and performer, especially since the percussive, demonic bravura of the piece suffuses so much of Prokofiev’s later opera. The Ravel Gaspard de la Nuit derives from same 16 September 1960 session. Besides the explicit technical virtuosity demanded by Ravel as an analogy to the poems by Bertrand, the Spanish temper that explodes in Scarbo perfectly suits the Argerich ethos. The sheer control of color throughout the three character sketches likely reflects the coaching of yet another potent influence in Argerich’s evolution, Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli.  While Argerich went on to record Gaspard in 1974, this rendition bursts with a youthful ardor and impetuosity that cannot be denied.

The next Prokofiev work from 16 March 1960, the a minor Sonata of Prokofiev, confirms the “racehorse” comparison. Subtitled “From Old Notebooks,” this highly compressed piece from 1917 proffers fewer than seven minutes of flying-trapeze color at the keyboard. Opening Allegro tempestoso in 4/4, the music surges ff into its second, more lyrical subject, Moderato, tranquillo, legato, semplice e dolce. Argerich builds the long furies of the coda from the ground up, catching white phosphorus as she proceeds to a blazing climax.  Refinement and sensuous textures mark the Argerich rendering of Ravel’s 1903 Sonatine (rec. 8 September 1960). She lavishes tender, loving care upon the Mouvement de menuet, a troubadour’s song in D-flat. The Anime takes all sorts of dynamic and metrical risks, especially in color gradations. We had already felt Argerich’s capacity to make color in the first movement Modere, set in the Aeolian mode. The toccata brilliance of the Anime brings the music full circle, into F-sharp Minor with a passing reference to the 5/4 of the Modere. The sheer rush of notes and cascades from Argerich manages to hide the exotic classicism that defines much of this competition-piece creation by Ravel.

The Prokofiev Seventh Sonata from 31 October 1967 will bear comparison with the Argerich reading some twelve years later, in 1979 Amsterdam, the performance of which is slightly faster in the first movement. This first of the so-called “wartime sonatas” communicates a restless mystery (“inquieto”) not entirely traceable to the fate of Russia during WW II. When the music plunges the percussive and harmonic depths, Argerich does not fear to beard the dragon. The figures collide, mesh, separate, sing, and then run wild. The Andante coloroso casts a melancholy beauty upon the scene, with Argerich’s middle voices particularly noteworthy. The bass chords, however, command our attention for the anguish they possess, certainly attributable to the Schumann song to which they allude. The finale, Precipitato, erupts with the jazzy violence that both asserts and disrupts “the life force.” Argerich might have intended to pulverize her listeners with the machine-gun staccato notes and thundering chords that beckon to this pianist’s incendiary temperament.

—Gary Lemco

Triple 9, Blu-ray (2016)

Triple 9, Blu-ray (2016)

An enjoyable action-thriller with a lot of top stars.

Triple 9, Blu-ray (2016)

Cast: Casey Affleck, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Anthony Mackie
Director: John Hillcoat
Studio: Universal Home Ent. 55179078 [5/31/16]
Video: 2.40:1 for 16:9 1080i HD color
Audio: English DTS-HD MA 5.1, DD 2.0
Subtitles: English SDH, Spanish, French
Extras: Deleted Scenes, “Under the Gun,” “An Authentic World”
Length: 1 hr. 56 min.
Rating: ****

A staged bank robbery is only the top of the iceberg when two Atlanta cops begin to suspect members of their own team are involved in the ongoing shenanigans. They don’t know who to trust, or how deep the corruption in the force really goes. And time is running out for them to find the truth.

A gutsy and star-packed thriller from start to finish.

Be sure to have your surround speaker setup working perfectly to experience the sonic thrills of this action film. Chiwetel Ejiofor is especially good, as always. The Kate Winslet role is quite small, as expected. Plenty of strong language, some nudity and drug use thruout so watch out. (But I don’t recommend getting one of the edited Christian versions from Utah.)

—John Sunier

Audio News for June 17, 2016

70% of Music Bought in Sweden is Streamed – Sweden is also the home of Spotify, considered the world leader in the wireless streaming field. Streamed music in Sweden has risen from 57% in 2012 to 70% today.  Sales of music overall grew by 12% in the first half of 2016 and have been rising steadily since 2008.

Double Digit Growth Expected for Healthcare Video Conferencing – The U.S. market for Healthcare Video Conferencing is expected to reach revenues over $1.1 billion by 2022. Video conferencing has enabled efficient and convenient access to healthcare services across the U.S. and an increased demand for prompt healthcare services and rising costs have led to the growing demand for video conferencing in the healthcare industry. Cloud-based solutions are emerging as an alternative to deliver cost efficient and scalable video conferencing solutions to the healthcare industry. Major hospital systems in the U.S. are adopting video conferencing solutions to deliver reliable and effective healthcare services.

You Must Use HDMI Connection to View 1080p Video and Lossless HD Audio –  Thank to the Sunset Rule, all recent Blu-ray decks only transmit HD video via the HDMI connection. If you don’t have your Blu-ray and/or universal player properly set up, you may not be listening to the multi-channel surround sound on Blu-ray discs and you may not be transmitting a native 1080p or 1080i video signal to your display. This also applies to the new immersive surround formats such as Dolby Atmos and DTS:X.

Marantz Into Hi-End Audio with SA-10 and PM-10 – According to designer Ken Ishiwata, the SA-10 SACD/CD player ($7000) and PM-10 integrated amp ($8000) are “a re-invention of the design principles” held by the company. The player has an all-new disc-transport mechanism (“SACD-M3”) and an external DAC input which supports up to DSD256 and 32/384 PCM. The PM-10 is 70 watts per channel and has separate power supplies for the preamp and the volume.

New Analog Devices Chip Improves Sound in Audio System Applications –  Analog Devices has announced the addition of two processor chips to its series of single-chip SHARC processors, the ADSP-SC57x and the ADSP-2157x. They meet automotive temperature ranges without the need for bulky heat sinks or fans, and provide solution for applications such as Dolby Atmos, DTS:X or active noise cancellation with headroom remaining for further audio post-processing. The chips have more than 2MBytes of memory, to realize higher DSP performance at lower power while reducing system complexity.

HAYDN: Symphonies Nos. 78, 79, 80 & 81 – Accademia Bizantina/ Ottavio Dantone – 
Decca (2 CDs)

HAYDN: Symphonies Nos. 78, 79, 80 & 81 – Accademia Bizantina/ Ottavio Dantone – 
Decca (2 CDs)

Beautifully recorded and rendered, these original instrument realizations of rare Haydn symphonies do everyone honor.

HAYDN: Symphony No. 78 in c; Symphony No. 79 in F Major; Symphony No. 80 in d; Symphony No. 81 in G Major – Accademia Bizantina/ Ottavio Dantone – Decca 478 8837 (2 CDs), 54:20, 55:10 (2/12/16) [Distr. by Universal] *****:

Recorded June-September 2015, this little-known quartet of Haydn symphonies 78-81 dates from the years 1782-1784, when Haydn still served as kapellmeister to the Esterhazy family in their spectacular summer and winter palaces in Esterháza (present day Hungary) and Eisenstadt (Austria), where the music was first performed. Collectors will know these works through the Antal Dorati editions he led with Philharmonia Hungarica, or individually: for instance, the one symphony familiar to me, the sturm und drang No. 80 in d minor, I first heard in a live broadcast of the New York Philharmonic under Dimitri Mitropoulos. Decca plans a 36-CD edition of the complete Haydn Symphonies as performed on period instruments.

We might begin with Dantone’s reading of the said No. 80 in d minor: though not “officially” part of the composer’s sturm und drang compositions, it opens with a fierce gesture in tremolo – only a stone’s throw from Wagner – that has, most humorously, a secondary subject thoroughly whimsical, one of those “The Hen” motifs directly from the barnyard. This secondary matter prevails for the movement’s development section, which proves a total surprise, given the dramatic intensity of the beginning gesture. The Adagio remains gracious, only interrupted intermittently by more agitated figures. The dark tones of the strings might be attributed to the modal writing in Mozart’s Masonic music. While the Menuetto begins in the dark humor of the first movement, its Trio invokes an ancient chant in the Gregorian style. The syncopated figures of the Presto, as pungent and aggressive as they first appear, subside into a playful D Major. Dantone’s ensemble has made the entire excursion clear and eminently buoyant in all parts.

Haydn conceived his Symphony No. 78 in c minor (1782) for a projected trip to England which fell through. Haydn openly admitted he wanted the work to sound in the manner of composers J.C. Bach and Carl Friedrich Abel. The opening movement, Vivace, does project the jabbing, sturm und drang, unison motion we know from Mozart Piano Concerto, K. 491. The woodwind writing, propelled and piquant, bleats out in a fashion consonant with a militant or hunting call, suspensions, and leaps in the strings and horns. Both the Adagio (in E-flat Major) and the Menuetto & Trio (in C Major) conform to Haydn’s sense of the galant style. Haydn opts for his favorite sonata-rondo form and a set of double variations in the Finale: Presto, which opens in c minor and concludes in the optimistic C Major. The eminently “playful” character of this music infiltrates each measure, stopping and starting, injecting sudden accents and off-beats. Haydn calls this symphony “easy,” but Dantone and ensemble reveal its clever intricacies, a clear reflection of musical genius.

The Symphony No. 79 no less injects a definite sense of humor, especially in its energetic rhythmic thrust, given at the opening Allegro con spirito, in an eight-measure phrase whose underlying support generates forward motion under long-held notes. Staccato and legato motifs then play off in counterpoint, making this work a “learned” occasion in the spirit of the “London Bach.” In the course of the development, Haydn includes some daring modulations that contribute to our sense of musical adventure. Haydn marks the second movement Adagio cantabile, but its fourth measure sets up a thematic continuity for the succeeding Un poco allegro later in the movement. Musical continuity and pregnant silences proceed in eight-measure phrases. Accademia Bizantina achieves some soulful intimacy in this movement. Elisabeth Baumer and Guido Campana do honors to the oboe part of the Menuetto, with ample sonority in the horns, Lionel Renoux and Serge Desautels. The Finale: Vivace proffers another well-wrought rondo, which in its course of development explores the relative minor. Elastic and scathing accents from the original instruments propel this music affectionately but no less incisively, much in the manner of the more familiar finale from Symphony No. 88 in G.

The opening alone of the Symphony No. 81 in G – a big chord followed by solo cellos on a repeated G, then violins above and below in F and C – make the music immortal, enough so that Mozart followed suit in his 1785 “Dissonance” Quartet. The shimmering tension of the first movement testifies to Haydn’s wild, impulsive character as much as to his urbane wit. A siciliano provides the impetus for the Andante in compound time that provides flute Marcello Gatti his special colors – along with his woodwind compatriots – as the four variations proceed. Bassoon principal Alberto Guerra dominates the hurdy-gurdy-style Trio of the ensuing, hearty Menuetto, his playing over a repeated string chord for an uneasy laendler effect. The Finale: Allegro, ma non troppo remains relatively monothematic, intimating a ‘cyclic’ connection to the first movement, as witty and pungent as it is musically economical.

—Gary Lemco

Audio News for May 24, 2016

Facebook Bought VR Audio Firm Two Big Ears and is Making Tech Free to Developers – Facebook and parent company Oculus have announced they will make the new technology free as part of the Facebook 360 Spatial Workshop. Two Big Ears said their mission is to make VR audio succeed across all devices and platforms and to help creators make the best experiences for billions of people across the world. The technology focuses largely on how sound plays in 3D spaces and how it interacts with surfaces surrounding the viewer. Both the Gear VR and Rift already support the immersive audio technology. Two Big Ears realized the concern for compatibility, and says they would continue to be platform and device agnostic.”

Radio Man Head of U.S. Classics for Universal – The current general manager of New York City’s WQXR had been appointed president of Universal Music’s classical labels in the U.S. Graham Parker is British and was head of the Orpheus Chamber Ensemble before the WQXR job, and entered the music industry thru an assistant’s job with the New York Philharmonic. “I’ve devoted my life to classical music and bringing this incredible genre to as wide an audience as possible,” said Parker. “The opportunity to not only join the legendary catalog of Deutsche Grammophon and Decca, but to also be on the forefront of identifying the classical superstars of tomorrow, was too incredible to pass up. I’m humbled by this opportunity and I’m looking forward to working with [the entire UMG team].”

Best Buy Lived Up to its Name in Last Retail Bout, but Don’t Expect It to Last – Shares of the electronics retailer are up roughly 9% this year, while a slew of apparel retailers and department-store chains have tumbled. One experts says that Best Buy has become a showroom for Amazon. People go to their local Best Buy to see that TV and then order it thru Amazon.

4.3% Growth Rate of Audio Codec Market – The audio codec market for the headphone, headset, and wearable device application is expected to grow at the highest rate between 2016 and 2022. This is because of the growing trend of the usage of wearable devices in the day to day life because of the changing consumer need with the advancement of connected life with the development of IoT (Internet of Everything) concept. Headphone, headset, and wearable device is expected to be the fastest-growing application in the audio codec market during the forecast period.

CHOPIN: Four Ballades; Berceuse in D-flat Major; Four Mazurkas – Yundi Li, piano – DGG

CHOPIN: Four Ballades; Berceuse in D-flat Major; Four Mazurkas – Yundi Li, piano – DGG

Yundi’s Chopin recital surveys the epic, the poetic, and the intimate with grace and stylistic security.

CHOPIN: Four Ballades; Berceuse in D-flat Major, Op. 57; Four Mazurkas, Op. 17 – Yundi Li, piano – DGG 481 2443, 56:00 (2/26/16) [Distr. by Universal] ****:

Having become the first Chinese performer ever to win the prestigious Chopin Competition in 2000, Yundi Li (b. 1982) has gleaned a reputation more for poetic sensitivity than for sheer bravura and flamboyant foppishness, in the manner of Lang Lang. Yundi (at eighteen) became the youngest winner in the history of the event, and the first player in fifteen years to be granted first prize. Yundi has already recorded the Preludes as part of his ongoing Chopin Project. Yundi here (rec. December 2015) turns to the four Chopin Ballades, 1835-1843, the composer’s subjective response to the Polish poet Adam Mickiewicz, wherein many of the musical impulses assume a direct connection to the verse conceits of the narratives.

From the outset of the dynamic Ballade No. 1 in g minor, Op. 23, Yundi demonstrates a combination of virile strength and flexible, poetic introspection. The rubato Yundi employs enhances the lyric ebb and flow of the melodic, vocal line, and he does not overly-exaggerate a pregnant pause. The lines often extend long over the bar lines, gaining acceleration, Neapolitan harmonies, and polyphonic textures. The Presto on fuoco designation for the latter portion of the work glides rather than storms, and Yundi’s landings remain secure and dramatically resonant.  The 1839 F Major Ballade presents a sentimental siciliano that serves as a folk prelude to a drama that erupts with torrential vehemence, captured in warm gusts by recording engineer Rainer Mallard. Dedicated to Robert Schumann, the music lilts and sighs almost in the manner of a barcarolle midway through the narrative. What sets the music apart lies in the passing dissonances and modal harmonies that graduate the colors that even in their percussive or manic state, exhibit a passion entirely conceived in pianistic terms.

The 1841 A-flat Ballade allows Yundi to bask in three distinct octaves before settling into the galloping motif that hypnotically repeats notes an octave apart that, mercurially, allows a brief waltz to materialize. Passing trills, turns, and seamless runs eventually coalesce into a grand climax that Yundi seals with assertive affirmation in the major, the only time a Chopin ballade finishes so. The 1842 f minor Ballade, Op. 52 remains the most expansive and the most contrapuntally intricate. Marked Andante con moto, the first pages set a tragic tone rife with resignation. Yundi relishes the progressive harmonies, many of which adumbrate later evolution in Debussy and Roussel. Chopin invests subtle variants into the developmental pages, whose textures thicken and exploit the grand sonority of the keyboard’s chromatic runs.  By now, we each await the explosive triple forte followed, eventually, by five soft pianissimos, all just prior to the brilliant feverish coda. Both passionate and erotic, the Yundi performance will successfully rival those classic interpretations we have heard by Moravec, Rubinstein, and Horowitz.

The masterpiece of harmonic-rhythm, Chopin’s 1844 D-flat Major Berceuse, allows Yundi a salon moment of extraordinary concentration. Built on a persistent ostinato in the left hand, the lullaby lilts between a stable tonic and its dominant response. The variants glide in watery effusion while revealing a charming tune that might have been conceived for a celestial flute. Yundi’s pedal effects color the last page, although his fingers alone had made splendid hues throughout.

The set of 1833 mazurkas, Op. 17 receives from Yundi a harder, bright patina, offering us as well the opportunity to hear the oft-encored a minor, Op. 17, No. 4 in full context besides its melancholy somber beauty. The opening B-flat Major exults in its optimistic, aggressive colors, Vivo e risoluto. The succeeding e minor Lento, ma non troppo, has Yundi attentive to its subtle shifts in motion, an edgy waltz, sporting the kind of agogics that had Meyerbeer’s complaining about Chopin’s bar lines. The A-flat Major Yundi treats like an episodic tonepoem whose jagged, folkish, color contrasts can jar, explode, or melt into ripe kernels of melody. The a minor remained long a favorite of the late Ivan Moravec. The lilting portamento opens up momentarily, only to recede into dainty units, a la Satie. The sense of fading away into eternity comes upon us slowly and inexorably.

—Gary Lemco

ELGAR: Symphony No. 1 in A-flat Major – Staatskapelle Berlin/ Daniel Barenboim – Decca

ELGAR: Symphony No. 1 in A-flat Major – Staatskapelle Berlin/ Daniel Barenboim – Decca

Daniel Barenboim revisits the Elgar Symphony No. 1 with fertile and heroic results. 

ELGAR: Symphony No. 1 in A-flat Major, Op. 55 – Staatskapelle Berlin/ Daniel Barenboim – Decca 478 9353, 51:26 (3/11/16) [Distr. by Universal] ****:

Sometimes lauded as “England’s first symphony,” the 1908 Symphony No. 1 in A-flat Major of Sir Edward Elgar found an early acolyte in conductor Hans Richter, who saw in the music a more cosmopolitan voice than had been the wont of similar efforts from Stanford, Sullivan and Parry.  For Elgar himself, the model of Brahms – especially his F Major Symphony – stood as a pinnacle of excellence in ‘absolute music,’ a genre specifically avoiding any sense of a ‘program’ in the manner of Richard Strauss.  It seems small wonder that for Barenboim – who has traversed this music prior with different orchestras – should have been influenced by his own Brahms experience – having collaborated with that other Elgar maestro, Sir John Barbirolli, in their Brahms concertos inscribed for EMI.

The present recording of the Elgar First Symphony (19-21 September 2015) finds Barenboim and ensemble in an expansive, luxurious mode, opening the famous “noble and simple” motto theme – the germ cell of the unfolding work – with loving, tender care.  Athletic confidence in the ‘Victorian frame of mind’ soon alternates with moments of fleeting caprice and bewildering anxiety, much in D Minor. Moments of pastoral serenity clash with portents of spiritual confusion.  Yet, the mood of the first movement softens by various degrees – including Elgar’s utilizing only the last stands of the string players – to effect a kind of hopeful gloaming in the coda.

The second movement, Allegro molto, wanders into an antagonistic mode in F-sharp Minor. The buzzing, angry, perpetual-motion figures assume full battle dress. Suddenly, a light texture emerges in B-flat Major, “like something you hear down by the river,” quipped Elgar. Even the quick motions become more elfin, a la Mendelssohn.  The da capo brings the military energies upon us full throttle; and here, the motion resembles the Mahler Seventh, premiered the same year. The gossamer texture persists, happily, with strings, winds, and harps in idyllic array, despite the undercurrents of war. The motion slows down, allowing us to observe that, verbatim, the notes literally form the basis of the lovely Adagio.

Elgar imparts to his slow movement a particular richness, dividing his strings into nine parts and two alternating themes. Elgar subjects each of the two themes to variation form, the second, more ominous tune subsuming the cheery aspects of the first. Barenboim accents the autumnal beauty of the melodies, again reinforcing Elgar’s affinity for the Brahms conception of orchestral beauty of color. The sunny D Major may recall us more to the Brahms Second Symphony, especially as the scoring pits the horns and strings in fulsome harmony. Against the warbles of the winds, harp and strings, the tympani passes a threatening cloud in tandem with fine viola sound from the Staatskapelle Dresden. Midway through the music, the vista opens in a way that Beethoven and Mahler could appreciate, superimposing the competing themes without having lost the expansive, pantheistic vision.

In a subtle homage to Beethoven, Elgar has his last movement Lento – Adagio look backward at motifs from movement one, the processional theme, here in a more askew guise. An eerie opening phrase  glides to a clarinet solo prior to the actual Allegro whose impulses quite point to Brahms. The hasty, martial material enters into a period of considerable strife, with the Staatskapelle tympanist making his presence felt. Elgar’s capacity for counterpoint becomes fully engaged, and for a moment we can feel Wagner’s Meistersinger’s influence, although the opening bars too had suggested Wagner’s Siegfried.  Halfway through the movement the Elgar sense of idyll returns, once more in “noble” sentiments, and Barenboim has the Staatskapelle string and brass sonorities in epic scale. A series of upward scales and impulses ushers in a new sense of festive urgency, heroic, polyphonic, and exalted. The processional motif has become a full-fledged victory of a spirit wholly dedicated to a promising future.  The often gripping sonic image belongs to Recording Engineer Sebastian Nattkemper.

—Gary Lemco