Quick Takes: Batch #4 (Beethoven, Alessandro Scarlatti, Gál, Martin Romberg)

Beethoven: Piano Sonatas Opp. 109-111; Bartók: Dirge, Op. 9a, No. 1. Imogen Cooper, pianist. Chandos CHAN 20362. 

I confess it's difficult to find obvious weaknesses in these performances. Cooper has clearly studied the scores well and plays with sensitivity and attention to detail. But if asked to identify other positive attributes I'd have an equally difficult time. I suppose one could argue that her emotional restraint here is a kind of virtue. If that's what you look for in Beethoven's last three piano sonatas, you're likely to enjoy this recording. But if you're like me, and glancing at a storied catalogue full of classic accounts that deliver more passion, spirituality, and grandeur, then the present option starts to look pedestrian pretty quickly. Cooper is probably better at these works than 99% of the pianists who attempt them. But that 1% looms large in such staple repertoire. The single most individual thing about this release is its inclusion of the tiny Bartók dirge at the end. I gather that this was intended to signal the end of Cooper's long recording career. Still, it's an odd choice; it might have been better to let Op. 111 have the final word for her as it did for Beethoven's sonata cycle. Verdict: Neutral.

Vieni, o Notte (works by Alessandro Scarlatti). Francesca Aspromonte, soprano; Boris Begelman, violinist and leader; Arsenale Sonoro. Aparté AP428. 

This is sturdy Baroque fare: three fine cantatas interspersed with a pair of beautiful string sonatas. The vocal works, as the press release notes, are united by themes of “night and thwarted love,” reflected in the title drawn from an aria in Notte ch’in carro d’ombre. Alessandro Scarlatti, the dad of the more famous Domenico Scarlatti, was occasionally capable of composing things that catch the ear. This lovely aria is one of them, as is the bouncy closing number of the same work – "Si, che priva di contento." Although the two cantatas that follow – Silenzio aure volanti and All'hor che stanco il sole (which receives its premiere recording here) – do not quite reach the same level of inspiration, they're nonetheless effective and will please most listeners. The performers superbly capture the music's darker colors. Francesca Aspromonte is a delight to hear and well suited for this repertoire. Her supporting cast balances precision with luxuriousness. On the whole, this is one of the better Scarlatti Sr. releases I've heard. A lesser cast would diminish the returns. Verdict: Recommended. 

Hans Gál: String Quintet, Op. 106; String Quartet No. 4, Op. 99; Five Intermezzi, Op. 10. Katalin Kertész, violin; Reijo Tunkkari, violin; Hanna Pakkala, viola; Emiliano Travasino, viola; Lauri Pulakka, cello; Ulla Lampela, cello. CPO 555721-2. 

About 5-6 years ago on Twitter, before the Great Microblogging Schism that followed Elon Musk's takeover, there was considerable hubbub over Hans Gál in the classical music corner of the app. Certain people whom I respect swore up and down that he constitutes one of the great discoveries of our time. I tried all of the music they told me to and remained unimpressed. Listening to this disc (and various alternatives in the catalogue), I still remain unimpressed. Gál seemed to like nothing better than to vaguely ape Brahms 50-100 years after the fact. His is very much an imitation of great music rather than great music. The way Gál tries to match the German master's idiosyncratic turns of phrase, especially in the Five Intermezzi, is at once risible and slightly incredulous. And even where he isn't simply aping Brahms, the melodic and harmonic material is so bland that you almost wish he were aping Brahms even more. Since I'm probably offending some of my readers already, I'll keep things short. If you see something in Gál's music that I utterly fail to do, this disc is for you. The performance of the Fourth Quartet, for example, is crisper and brighter in sound than the one on the premiere recording (Meridian 5015959455721). As always, we should be grateful to CPO for making so much non-canon repertoire available to us. But don't look for another Gál review from me any time soon. If nothing else, I have lots of paint to watch dry. Verdict: Indifferent. 

Martin Romberg: Symphony of Saints & Sacred Songs. Joanne Lunn, soprano; Martin Romberg, piano; Andrew Griffiths, conductor; The Orchestra of the Swan. Resonus RES10378. 

I did not know Martin Romberg's music before listening to this disc. Upon doing so I immediately sampled some of his other works. The only way to say it is that these kinds of discoveries are what make classical music so rewarding. What we have here is a master of atmosphere and, when the inspiration grabs him, of melody. The symphony is a slow burn, but it effectively conjures the mists of northern legend. Its grounding sonorities and gentle dissonances color the texts of different saints from remote times. At about 20-25 minutes, the work is just the right length for its materials. Even better is the cycle of Sacred Songs. It's clear from this, and from the piano pieces on other recordings I gladly gobbled up, that Romberg is at core a miniaturist. All of these songs are beautiful, and a few are special indeed. "Farewell" and "Night" are particularly poignant. I hope that Romberg has a long career ahead of him yet. Because contemporary music like his goes a long way toward restoring my faith in the Western tradition's viability. Verdict: Enthusiastically Recommended.

Quick Takes: Batch #2 (Aho, Schubert, Schumann, British Overtures)

Kalevi Aho: Symphony No. 17 'Symphonic Frescoes'. Erkki Lasonpalo, conductor; Lahti Symphony Orchestra. BIS 2676. 

I can't work up much enthusiasm for this, though I'd be lying if I said parts of it don't impress me against my will. It's always the same story with Aho and me: genuine respect for the composer's sonic imagination and craft, mingled with a wish that I liked it all more. Even where Aho dips into a more traditional musical language here, as in long stretches of the second and third movements, there's just not much I can get into. When he frustrates me enough, I find myself thinking things like "Finnish symphonic music after Sibelius was mostly a mistake" — which I don't really believe (Madetoja, Leiviskä, and Rautavaara, for example, composed works I'd hate to be without). But I resent the grumpiness to which Aho invariably brings me. This is just my latest journey there. That said, listeners who respond better to him than I do, and who have enjoyed his other symphonies, will very likely enjoy No. 17 too. Please do — and pay no heed to this imperfect Aho-ite. Verdict: Indifferent. 

A Moment in Time (Schubert: Impromptus, D. 899; Piano Sonata No. 21 in B-Flat, D. 960). Christian Blackshaw, pianist. Pentatone PTC5187532. 

A reviewer often feels pressure to be easier on a performer because of a hard background or an inspiring story. (I had this experience recently for Classical Candor: feeling sorry for Avril Coleridge-Taylor's prejudice-induced hardships while not being impressed with her music. See here.) Christian Blackshaw sounds like a great guy; upon the tragic death of his wife, he curtailed his performing career to raise his three daughters. The world needs more of that selflessness, full stop. But I'm afraid that what it does not need so much is another mediocre Schubert recording. The best thing on this disc is Blackshaw's slow movement in D. 960. If everything else were as smooth and well judged as that, I'd be writing a different mini-review. But the other parts, while dripping earnestness, just lack elite execution in the details: tone color, articulation, dynamic shadings, and even technique. There's a sleek sheen the best recordings have that this doesn't. At worst, things are too labored and clunky: I can think of no justification for the first movement exceeding 22 minutes. I'd like to be more favorable, but there are just too many big fish in this particular pond to do so. Verdict: Fans of the performer only. 

Schumann: Fantasie in C Major, Op. 17; Faschingsschwank aus Wien, Op. 26; Humoreske, Op. 20. Nikolai Lugansky, pianist. Harmonia Mundi HMM902753.

What we have here is a mismatch of temperament. A thunderous technique and equally impressive control — traits that serve Lugansky well in Rachmaninoff, Liszt, or Tchaikovsky — largely lack the whimsy that is absolutely necessary for Schumann. This is less of a problem in Faschingsschwank than in the Fantasie or the Humoreske, which to my ears sound too square-cut. One telling stretch is the fearsome coda of Op. 17's second movement: Lugansky has the chops to really let this rip interpretively, but he's missing the flair. This should sound slightly over-the-top; instead it's tame. The Humoreske comes closer — there's much to admire in terms of energy and color, but not enough poetry. Lugansky probably outclasses my top choice for this piece (Lupu) in terms of muscle, but in no way does he catch the late Romanian's poignancy. This recording sounds pretty good, at least until you hear the really ideal performances. Verdict: Mildly Recommended. 

Overtures from the British Isles Volume 3. Rumon Gamba, conductor; BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Chandos CHAN20351. 

Chandos sure likes cranking out overture discs. Whoever is planning their content seems shrewdly aware of how to portion this repertoire across multiple installments in ways that average 1-2 halfway memorable numbers on each. That's what we had with Volumes 1-2, and that's what we have here. Lots of pleasantness, rather less reason to come back to it. A little butter scraped over too much bread, to borrow Tolkien's expression. The most compelling item is easily Britten's Overture to Paul Bunyan, though I did heartily enjoy Clifton Parker's The Glass Slipper Overture. The secret ingredient with the latter is knowing when to quit; the thing is tuneful and slight, clocking in at only 3 minutes. Are these two pieces reason enough to buy this recording, however well Rumon Gamba and the BBC Phil dash them off? I don't know. But I do know this: about 80% of their Malcolm Arnold overtures disc (Chandos CHAN10293) made more of an impression on me than has 80% of the music in this series. Verdict: Mildly Recommended. 

New Reviews at Classical Candor

Classical Candor recently published two CD reviews of mine. The first (treating the latest Weinberg string quartet series installment from Chandos) is available here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2025/05/weinberg-string-quartets-volume-5-cd.html

The second review considers the latest Ruth Gipps orchestral music volume, also from Chandos: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2025/05/ruth-gipps-orchestral-works-volume-4-cd.html

I am significantly preoccupied with all sorts of projects at the present, which explains my lack of activity here. I will post as I am able. Thanks for reading!

New Review at Classical Candor

I couldn't stay away; I started reviewing music for Classical Candor again. First upon my return is the lovely third volume in Chandos's Ruth Gipps orchestral works series. Take a look: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2025/02/ruth-gipps-orchestral-works-volume-3-cd.html

Recording Review #56: Sturdy Sibelius

Sibelius: Violin Concerto; Smaller Works for Violin and Orchestra. James Ehnes, violinist; Edward Gardner, conductor; Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra. Chandos CHSA5267. 

Now this is what I'm talking about! Musicians who don't resort to weird stuff in order to turn heads. Interpretations that aren't intended first and foremost to tickle elite funny bones. Just extremely solid, lusty performances I can recommend to anyone, especially to those who are hearing it all for the first time. James Ehnes, Edward Gardner, and the Bergen Philharmonic deliver again in this splendid release of Sibelius's works for violin and orchestra. It's the latest winner in a steady series of wins for these artists. Long may it all continue!

I'm serious. This is one of the better Sibelius Violin Concerto performances you'll hear. It's not one of the deepest, nor is it extreme (for good or ill) in any other way. But's it's wonderfully energetic, effectively conveying this masterpiece's passion and atmosphere. Ehnes has a bold tone color that glows even during the calmer moments, and Gardner and the BPO move things along without rushing or ruining the points where the violinist must linger a bit. If the finale lacks a certain smooth lightness in some of the virtuosic passages, the performers' gusto in the whole movement soundly makes up for this. It's refreshing to hear such arresting forthrightness in a work that has invited too much eccentricity. 

What's sometimes missed in all of the critical gushing over Sibelius's longer forms is how adept he was at creating highly distinctive moods. Some of the most immersive of these are to be found in his shorter pieces for violin and orchestra, which are easy to overlook. Ehnes and Company admirably resist making them afterthoughts or mere disc-fillers. Rather, they treat them with the same seriousness of purpose that they do the Concerto. To be blunt, you won't hear better performances than the ones here. They are absolutely sumptuous. (Op. 77, No. 1 is particularly lovely!) 

One small curiosity is present, though. The brief pieces entitled Suite for Violin and Orchestra, composed in 1929, are among Sibelius's very last substantial music. Along with other late sets of miniatures, they appeared at the suggestion of his publisher Carl Fischer. While the composer had at at one time designated them as his Op. 117, his final opus list from the early 1950s shows no work carrying this opus number, stopping instead at 116. I have not read Chandos's liner notes to see why the set is listed on this recording as Op. 117 (instead of the opus-less marking of JS 185), but I thought it all worth noting here. (For a fuller treatment of this matter, see Andrew Barnett, Sibelius, Yale University Press, 2007, pp. 330-331.)

Regardless, one is grateful to have so many works so finely recorded. Make this recording your go-to option for the miniatures; and put it in your constellation of wonderful Sibelius Violin Concertos if there's room.

Verdict: Highly Recommended

New Review at Classical Candor

My review of the latest installment in Chandos's Mieczyslaw Weinberg String Quartets series can be read here.

New Review at Classical Candor

Further to my Recording Review #1 here at The Ross Review, my write-up of the next installment in Chandos's Edward Gardner/BPO Nielsen cycle can be read here.

Recording Review #1: Nifty Nielsen

 

Nielsen: Violin Concerto, Op. 33; Symphony No. 4 ("The Inextinguishable"), Op. 29. James Ehnes, Violin; Edward Gardner, Conductor; Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra. Chandos CHSA 5311. ISBN: 0095115531129.

This is not exactly a new recording, having been released one year ago. But as I am reviewing the next disc in Chandos's new Carl Nielsen symphony cycle soon for Classical Candor, I thought it propitious to begin my write-ups here with the series' excellent first installment. For excellent it is, all around. Both soloist and conductor understand Nielsen in a way that some others nowadays apparently don't. This music requires energy and clarity. And while it's sometimes quite moving, too much "syrup" spoils things. In other words, treating these works like just more late German Romantic fare is to act against their nature. (For example, see here.) 

The performance of the Violin Concerto is among the best I've ever heard. It's in turns exuberant and tender, while always sharply rendered. Ehnes plays magnificently in every way, with a mixture of deft virtuosity and well-judged timing. Gardner supports him wonderfully, and leads a balanced orchestra whose woodwinds in particular skillfully dispatch the heightened roles Nielsen gives them. All is accomplished without obscuring the soloist. By my count this is the second recording of the Violin Concerto produced by Chandos. The first has long been in my collection: violinist Kim Sjogren with the Danish National Symphony Orchestra, led by Michael Schønwandt (CHAN 8894). It is a fine recording which, though lacking some of the Ehnes/Gardner/BPO energy, radiates at least as much warmth. Both options are good, but now I may just prefer the newer one. If the classical music world were just, Nielsen's Violin Concerto would be performed far more often as the great, if quirky, work that it is.

This "Inextinguishable" Symphony is similarly exciting. Gardner and the BPO definitely get its character right. (Character states in Nielsen are all-important.) Here is a conductor who doesn't get bogged down in the slow spots, while embracing tastefully brisk tempi in the quicker stretches. And once again the BPO's woodwinds acquit themselves especially admirably; I particularly loved the second movement, where their colors come through beautifully. The timpani battle in the finale is suitably thrilling. There are plenty of good recordings of this symphony available already, but this one holds its own even in such company. I'm excited to hear the rest of the series. We certainly have an auspicious beginning. 

Highly Recommended