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.

Recording Review #55: Winsome Williams

Grace Williams: Orchestral Works (Four Illustrations for the Legend of Rhiannon; Castell Caernarfon; Ballads; Sea Sketches for String Orchestra). John Andrews, conductor; BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. Resonus RES10349. 

In late 1939, Ralph Vaughan Williams wrote this to his student, Grace Williams, about her new Four Illustrations for the Legend of Rhiannon: "Dearest Grace, I listened in on Tuesday. All is much clearer & more direct & purposeful than it used to be. I liked the last movement best (I expect I oughtn’t to) & the slow – the others not so much – But the whole thing is certainly a great advance." If I had stopped at one listen through I might've agreed with old RVW. But I'll wager I took a few more passes than he did, and with every one this music grew on me. So much so that I'm now ready to consider it a British classic. 

The Four Illustrations musically portray episodes from the life of Rhiannon, a remarkable figure of Welsh mythology whose exploits are detailed in The Mabinogion. Williams illustrates each scene in highly idiomatic fashion. There is a definite folk inflection, with Lydian and other modal seasonings adding to the overall flavor. Earworm melodies frequently get repeated with slight variation. Harmony is often static, with emphasis on savoring rich sonorities. Lest this all doesn't sound like much, I was riveted. I have a weakness for the mythic; the Iliad and Odyssey, L. Frank Baum's Santa Claus origin story, and the Kalevala are some of my favorite reads. They fire my imagination in a way that I can almost believe (or at least wish I believed) their events actually took place in some far away age when enchantment and epic deeds were still possible. Likewise I get transfixed every time I listen to Sibelius's Kullervo, so powerfully evocative is its legendary mood. Hearing it for the first time was a revelation. I'm not prepared to argue that Grace Williams had Sibelius's overall talent. But I'll say without apology that her knack for eliciting this specific kind of feeling is comparably strong. It's evident that she deeply identified with her native Welsh heritage. Good for her!

Similar things could be said of the Ballads, even though there is no explicit program attached to them. This is a much later work (1968) that shows Williams kept her gift for legend-painting across her career. Initially I thought she must have borrowed actual folk tunes for each. But after reading Leah Broad's informative liner notes, and other materials close at hand, I found no indication of this. The melodies are apparently just that good! In addition, one frequently gets the impression of harp or lute strumming from how Williams treats her rhythms and harmonies, which is of course commensurate with the title. I'll definitely be returning to this music!

Dating from around the same time of the Ballades is Castell Caernarfon, a kind of miniature tone poem commissioned for the investiture of the Prince of Wales. It's in the same general vein as the aforementioned pieces. But here I have to be more critical. The musical materials are pleasant, even inspired. But they're stretched out too much to make this work as thoroughly compelling as the sets of miniatures. I won't say that Williams is strictly a miniaturist (she convincingly demonstrates otherwise in her symphonies and extended chamber works), but with Castell I perceive some tension between content and medium. 

However, we're back to Williams at her best with the Sea Sketches for String Orchestra. Her ability to sonically envision seascapes is nearly as good as her penchant for legendary scenes. These pieces each have their own titles: High Wind; Sailing South; Channel Sirens; Breakers; and Calm Sea in Summer. All are easy on the ear, and some have splendid tunes in them (I'm thinking particularly of the first and last numbers). Here as elsewhere you can hear the influence of her famous teacher, as well as that of other greats. But Williams is also very much her own composer. On the strength of the selections rendered here, it's a creative voice that deserves to be heard in the concert hall with much more regularity. 

John Andrews and the BBC Philharmonic provide splendid performances. It's clear even without knowing other recordings of this music that their sound and sensitivity are a good match for it. Their disc will appear in my "Finds of the Year" list, which I plan to write up in late December. It provides an abundantly rewarding listening experience. 

Verdict: Highly Recommended

Recording Review #15: Stunning Stanford

Stanford: Orchestral Songs. Sharon Carty, mezzo-soprano; Morgan Pearse, baritone; John Andrews, conductor; BBC Concert Orchestra; BBC Singers. Resonus RES10345. 

After much listening, I have to say that while the still-underappreciated Charles Villiers Stanford was a fine composer of instrumental compositions, he was especially effective as a setter of sung texts. As someone who concentrates on British music in my research, I may be biased. But Stanford's Stabat Mater, sacred anthems (especially For lo, I raise up), Songs of the Sea, Songs of the Fleet, and other works I could name demonstrate ample musical personality. We're also starting to figure out, thanks in no small part to SOMM's new recording of The Travelling Companion (SOMM CD 274-2), that considerable surprises and delights await us in exploring his operas. This wonderful new disc of orchestral songs only adds to the case of Stanford deserving more respect in the history books and concert halls. Many of these songs are simply enchanting, and do not become less so with sustained hearings. 

First, it must be said that what we have here is an assortment. A generous number of Stanford's song collections are represented, but often by only one or a few entries from larger sets. Thus, we don't get all of the Songs from Old Ireland (there are fifty in total!), nor all of the Songs of Erin, Op. 76, nor all of the Bible Songs, Op. 113, etc. etc. But that's okay. The items we have here were well chosen for their charm and beauty. Second, this recording's label of "Orchestral Songs" may be slightly misleading, as many are arrangements from voice(s)-and-piano originals. But don't let that bother you, since everything works just as well (if not better) with orchestra instead. 

Since there are 22 separate tracks, I think it best to concentrate on a few of my favorites as a means of recommendation. We do get all three of the Op. 17 (listed as Op. 18 on IMSLP??) Cavalier Songs for baritone, male chorus, and piano, heard in Stanford's orchestration. These are based on poetry by Robert Browning and concern the English Civil War from a Royalist perspective. And they are FUN to listen to! Red-blooded, rousing, and melodious, with delicious idiosyncrasies of harmony and turns of phrase, they anticipate the Songs of the Sea and Songs of the Fleet. Anyone who knows and loves the latter should quickly take to the Cavalier Songs. 

But I was hooked right off the bat with the sole selection from the Op. 77 Irish Idylls set, "A Fairy Lough." The poetry by Moira O'Neill conjures an atmosphere of magic and myth, which Stanford is every bit equal to in his setting. I like the voice-piano version, but I LOVE the orchestral setting and think it is an improvement. Also magical are the four arrangements of Irish folksongs included. One wishes for more. Listeners will recognize the melody of Danny Boy in "Emer's Farewell to Cucullain," which Stanford also used to stirring effect in his First Irish Rhapsody for orchestra. 

Special mention goes to musicologist Jeremy Dibble, who is the leading Stanford expert. He very capably orchestrated the three Op. 97 Songs of Faith included here, which are united by their Walt Whitman Leaves of Grass texts. He also authored the excellent liner notes. (This reminds me: one of the best arguments for physical recordings over streaming is the written commentary you get with the booklets. The knowledge contained in many of these is more valuable than some realize, especially when top-notch scholars like Dibble provide it.)

Last but not least, plenty of praise goes to the performers. Mezzo-soprano Sharon Carty and baritone Morgan Pearse sound terrific, including when they sing together. John Andrews deftly leads the ensembles and is to be commended for his continued advocacy for repertoire that deserves to be better known. A winner all around, with everyone involved on top of their game. Go and buy this disc. 

Highly Recommended