classical music

I Came for Copland. I Will Remember Ray Chen

C. Jefferson Thom — Thu, 11 Apr 2024 23:51:19 +0000

I Came for Copland. I Will Remember Ray Chen C. Jefferson Thom April 11, 2024 - 19:51

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

Appalachian Spring

Seattle Symphony

Benaroya Hall, Seattle

There's a decent chance I just witnessed the most incredible live performance by a violinist I will be privileged to experience in my lifetime. Ray Chen has a reputation for the intense passion that precedes him, but any hype was dimmed by the supernova burst of hearing him live.

This was my favorite of many memorable evenings spent with the Seattle Symphony at Benaroya Hall. Beginning with a dynamic modern composition by Dorothy Chang titled "Northern Star," the fuse was lit for a night of explosive energy. Chang masterfully wields the loud-quiet-loud with a contrast that offers a more extraordinary richness to both ends of that spectrum. This fuse beautifully burned its way to the readied dynamite of Erich Korngold's "Violin Concerto in D major" and Ray Chen's waiting violin.

Chen breathes intensity through the bridge, strings, and bow. He speaks directly through his violin as an extension of himself. If there is a division between the two, it is difficult to see and nearly impossible to hear. He reads the language of Korngold's music, knows it, and shares it as his own with the deepest feeling due to each note. His vibrato resonates through his arm, wrist, and fingers. His double stops sing with a choral unison. His bowing seems endlessly seamless, stretching onward into a continued infinity. His joy and love are ever present, and we in the audience were graciously lavished with wave after wave of passion, playfulness, and pure celebration. If there is something exceptional about being human, moments like these best make a better argument.

Also exceptional was the work of conductor Xian Zhang. Of the many conductors I have seen lead the Seattle Symphony, Zhang coaxes a new level of intensity, bringing this body of musicians closest to dancing on the razor's edge. Aside from having the mastery to answer Zhang's call, the members of the Seattle Symphony should be credited for the adaptability of maintaining their consistent level of play while rotating through so many conductors. Since I began attending their performance in December of last year, I don't believe I've seen the same hand lift the baton twice, but these musicians make that flexibility look effortless.

Closing out the program were the soothing sounds of Aaron Copland. If America were ever to live up to the purity of its professed ideals and intentions, it might sound something like Copland's Appalachian Spring. This is a piece that has brought me to joyful tears many times, and it was this offering that drew me to Benaroya Hall last Saturday night. What a perfect way to wrap up a program of forceful fireworks. The calm after the storm… and how wonderful it was. My heart is cradled in these bars—the quiet which gently builds. The strings work double-time, and the brass supports with sustained notes from below. There is such hope. Such yearning. Such a desire for better. Maybe, like the films of Frank Capra, it's an idealism that stretches too far and sees not so clearly. Still, I have fallen for Copland ever since I first heard what he had to say and getting to listen to his Appalachian Spring played so wonderfully live was a gift, the warmth of which still gives me a little smile.

Add new comment

What’s It Going To Be Then, Eh?

C. Jefferson Thom — Tue, 09 Jan 2024 18:37:06 +0000

What’s It Going To Be Then, Eh? C. Jefferson Thom January 9, 2024 - 13:37

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

Photo credit Carlin Ma

Beethoven's 9th

Seattle Symphony @ Benaroya Hall

Right, right… it's Beethoven's glorious 9th. And what a triumph it was. Having lived in Seattle for nearly a decade now and never having encountered anyone remotely resembling Dr. Frasier Crane, going to Benaroya Hall for a performance by The Seattle Symphony seemed like one last place he might be hiding. As it turns out… Nope. There were certainly more blazer jackets than one is likely to see wandering the streets of The Emerald City, but Dr. Crane's tuxedo was a poorly represented minority. However, it made up for what the night lacked in fictional TV characters from the '90s with awe-inspiring music.

My only regret is that I didn't catch up with The Seattle Symphony sooner, and my New Year's resolution is to make up for lost time. What a magical experience! To listen to a small army of masterful musicians, all exceptionally accomplished on their instruments, brought together in an agreement of sound by the music Ludwig van Beethoven; sometimes, humanity doesn't suck. All cynicism aside, it's moments like these which make me proud to be a Homo sapien. Though it's been a long time since I listened to a symphony live, I grew up playing clarinet and have taken my place in a pit orchestra several times. I sincerely appreciate the genre, listening to it with some regularity, but this is the best classical music I have been privileged to hear live. My familiarity with Beethoven's 9th Symphony made it all the more exhilarating to hear it vibrantly brought to life. They played the 2nd movement magnificently, building to a powerful culmination with the choral finale of Beethoven's declaration of love for all humankind. Hearing that live, feeling its forceful vibrations pass through you, warming your innards, is a near-overwhelming experience. I think Anthony Burgess said best through the words of his wicked little Alex, "It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now."

I love a song that can make nonsense of gravity, so I returned the following weekend to float through interstellar space again, this time with the sounds of Antonin Dvořák and Sergey Rachmaninov. Now, I had the unique pleasure of listening with virgin ears to both pieces. There's nothing quite like the first time. With Pablo Ferrández playing the title instrument for Dvořák's "Cello Concerto in B minor," the passion was palpable. The dance between Ferrández's cello and accompanying woodwinds, particularly the leading flutist, was utterly enchanting—such humbling and humanizing sounds. Rachmaninov's "Symphony No. 2 in E minor" followed and was an emotional experience with all the rising peaks and titillating troughs that come with a memorable sexual encounter. A truly intimate experience. At moments. I felt removed from my surroundings, and if I closed my eyes, there was only an expansive darkness and my solitary consciousness as it was enveloped in the ranging pulse of human emotion. I like that. I like that very much and want more of it.

As a tail-end representative of Generation X, I find myself in a place of shifting preferences for what to do with a Saturday evening. While a band like Tool still has all the power to galvanize, I find myself with an itch for intricacy that much modern music can't quite scratch. Moreover, sitting down and not having to fight for my place in a mosh pit perpetually has its advantages. As a specific call-out to my fellows of our oft-forgotten generation, if you've never sought musical epiphany in the grandeur of Benaroya Hall, then I highly recommend exploring all the possibilities that await you. Plenty of reasons make living in a big city complicated and sometimes difficult, but having regular access to the caliber of performance presented by the Seattle Symphony is a convincing argument for making it all worth it.

Add new comment

Not The Same As It Always Was

Dusty Wright — Thu, 10 Feb 2022 18:40:36 +0000

Not The Same As It Always Was Dusty Wright February 10, 2022 - 13:40

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

I don't pretend do have an expert's understanding of classical music (or jazz), but I totally enjoy and appreciate the genre. I've got many "classic" compositions on vinyl and digital downloads. I know what I like when it comes to the masters' recordings, but I'm willing to explore new work by contemporary composers. Keeping that in mind, I'm a fan of the NYC-based trio 8 Strings & a Whistle. Matt Goeke (cello), Ina Litera (viola) and Suzanne Gilchrest (flute) have been recording and performing together for over two decades. Their latest and fourth album ...and Nothing Remains the Same... (Ravello Records) was released in November 2021 and needs to be heard. Thankfully, it's available via all digital services. And yes, it's challenging, but so rewarding. It's a truly diverse repertoire from six different composers.

Here's the rundown on the compositions: "Loki's Lair" by Mark Winges, "Magam" by Paul Théberge, "Two Journeys" by Pamela Sklar, "And Nothing Remains the Same" by John Newell, "Eidos II" by Jorge Amado, and "Souls" by Péter Kőszeghy. Given such a diverse collection of music, I asked Mr. Goeke how the band decides on the material. And while the album's liner notes suggest that the overall theme of the material is a reflection on how "change is constant" in life, whether it's the timeline of one's life or something as mundane as going to a grocery store. We are constantly in a state of flux. That is all true, but how did the trio decide on the composers? He replied:

"To be honest, there wasn't much of a plan when we put the album together –– the works kind of found each other. What's wild is how unified the works seem, even when written by people with completely different voices. There was no programming intent –– things just worked out that way."

John Newel, composer of the title piece, had this to say:

"One thing that really struck me was how beautifully you curated the selections. Six different composers' voices, but they seem, to my ears, to fit so well together, and the sequence of works flowed so naturally."

If you've not seen them in action the video below with offer a tantalizing taste of the trio live. They had the opportunity of working with composer Jorge Amado in Havana in November 2019, before recording his stirring piece "Eidos II" for the album. It demonstrates that while the piece was challenging, the synergy between the composer and the three musicians was electric. And you can see the joy in Mr. Amado hearing his piece performed by the trio. He knows they are all communing on a sublime level.

Besides tackling challenging work, they are huge advocates for mentoring and sharing new music. They launched their first "Composer Competition" in 2017. It's held every two years and they invite composers of all ages enrolled in an accredited degree program at the time of application to submit a work composed for flute, viola and cello. The First Prize is the New York Premiere of the winning composer's work on their annual Fall concert, and a Featured Composer interview on their website.

You can see via a livestream on April 6th at 7:30 pm from St. Boniface Church.

Add new comment

Haiku

Dusty Wright — Mon, 25 Jun 2018 14:37:26 +0000

Haiku Dusty Wright June 25, 2018 - 10:37

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

Tania Stavreva, Piano

Music by Steve Holtje & Others

Caffe Vivaldi, NYC

22 June 2018

Erik Satie may have pursued a simple approach to classical music, even boasting that he lacked musicianship, but the Frenchman's music is stunning in its evocative beauty. Composer Steve Holtje's miniatures recall Satie's approach, especially when using the Gymnopedie form that Satie invented,while never diminishing the music's dynamics nor beauty, much like the Haiku and Tanka poetry forms he set (using English translations by Kenneth Rexroth and Jane Hirshfield of Japanese poets including Fumiko Nakajo and Akiko Yosano) -- and, occasionally, wrote himself -- for many of his moving songs. And as played by the gifted classical pianist Tania Stavreva with help from vocalists Jayanthi Bunyan, Nikolett Pankovits, and Jason Hill, it was an unforgettable evening. To reinforce the point, after starting the show with some of her own compositions, she played Satie's timeless Gnossienne No. 4 before launching into Mr. Holtje's compositions. But the evening was made even more poignant by the mere fact that one of New York City's most cherished music venues only had one day left before closing forever thanks to yet another greedy Big Apple landlord. Truly sad that after 35 years on Jones Street this favorite haunt of Bohemians, artists, and patrons would be shuttered forever.

To my ears, there is almost an improvisational quality to Satie's music that makes one lean in and really pay attention. But it was still simple and concise and, in the "able" hands of Ms. Stavreva, lyrical and beautiful. Some critics have suggested that he's the godfather of ambient music. I asked Mr. Holtje if Satie was a fan of haiku. "I don't know. But Asian influence in turn-of-the-century Paris was strong in both art and music."

Mr. Holtje's confluence of his music and his seventeen-syllables poetry is irrefutable. And his collaboration with the extremely gifted Miss Stavreva seemed the perfect pairing. They met after one of her recitals in 2011. "I reviewed one of her concerts (for CultureCatch) and heard her play Satie. It was a natural impulse to send her my Gymnopedies, and fortunately for me, she liked them and premiered them in 2013."

But why base his latest compositions on haiku? According to Holjte: "About 2010 I started trying to strip my music down to the barest of essentials. It became highly concise as a result. Haiku seemed both a good match for my new style (though I should emphasize that it wasn't SUCH a drastic break as I had this impulse in my music all the way back in the '80s) and an inspirational example. But also Kenneth Rexroth's translations of Japanese poetry have been favorites of mine for decades, formative of my taste in poetry."

Holtje's music is cinematic. It reminds me of George Winston's compositions as well as Keith Jarrett -- according to Holtje, "Two people whose music I love for its lyricism. It all goes back to Bill Evans, of course. But I would cite two bigger influences on my music: Catalan composer Federico Mompou, for both conciseness and post-Impressionist harmony, and American jazz pianist Richie Beirach, who expanded on Evans's style with even lusher harmony (and, not coincidentally, he is also a Mompou fan whose cover of the first piece in Mompou's Musica Callada cycle interested me in Mompou). As for 'cinematic,' I have composed two soundtracks, and love how vivid music can conjure moods and mental images."

What would he hope his audience walks away with from his music and words?

"Beauty and a sense of shared humanity across time and cultures. An appreciation for the complexity and/or richness of experience to be found even in short and simple things."

The plan is to present a more formal evening at a larger venue before the year's end. The performers are also going into the studio in July to document this repertoire. Stay tuned for future details.

Add new comment

Rhythmic Movement

Steve Dalachinsky — Wed, 08 Feb 2017 06:59:01 +0000

Rhythmic Movement Steve Dalachinsky February 8, 2017 - 01:59

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

Though I am usually turned off by women musicians who tend to dress way too sexy for their roles, particularly in the classical world, I do tend, in the long run, to judge them by their ability as players. I really prefer not to have to see this underdressed ideal of womanhood because I don’t understand why it’s necessary or what it could possibly have to do with the music presented, or for that matter, their possible talent. Are they perhaps trying to sell their SEX as part of the package as an extra enticement, in case their abilities fail them?

But every now and then while listening to one of these people, trying my best not to be distracted by this seeming "shortcoming," I am overwhelmed nonetheless by their talent. Such is the case with Tania Stavreva, who, despite her sexy luxuriating atop the piano on the jacket of her debut CD, Rhythmic Movement, proves to be a formidable and accomplished pianist/composer.

The program she chooses consists mostly of works by herself, Pancho Vladigerov and Argentinian composer Alberto Ginastera, an artist whose work I know very little of but that I’m always thrilled to hear. There is also a folk tune both sung and played by Stavreva, along with works by other composers all of whom are new to me. I find the CD exhilarating, exciting, poignant, intense, tender, and surprisingly swinging. There are references to Gershwin and, whether intentional or not, many time signatures that relate to the iconic tune "Take Five." We go in one minute from an exhaustive power to clear, sweet engagement.

I would recommend this CD to folks equally afraid of adventure as they might be adventurous. Saturate yourself in all its abrupt and sudden changes and subtle yet swift nuances and the journey will be a pleasantly rocky exaltation.

ANNIVERSARIES: Dmitri Shostakovich Born 110 Years Ago

Steve Holtje — Mon, 26 Sep 2016 02:54:07 +0000

ANNIVERSARIES: Dmitri Shostakovich Born 110 Years Ago Steve Holtje September 25, 2016 - 22:54

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

Many consider Dmitri Shostakovich the greatest composer of the 20th century. Born September 25, 1906, he might not have lived past his teens if he hadn't been talented. During the famines of the Revolutionary period in Russia, Alexander Glazunov, director of the Petrograd (later Leningrad) Conservatory, arranged for the poor and malnourished Shostakovich's food ration to be increased. Shostakovich's Symphony No. 1, his graduation exercise for Maximilian Steinberg's composition course at the Conservatory, was completed in 1925 at age 19 and was an immediate success worldwide. He was The Party's poster boy; his Second and Third Symphonies unabashedly subtitled, respectively, "To October" (celebrating the Revolution) and "The First of May" (International Workers' Day).

His highly emotional harmonic language is simultaneously tough yet communicative, but his expansion of Mahlerian symphonic structure, dissonances, sardonic irony, and dark moods eventually clashed with the conservative edicts of Communist Party officials. In 1936 he was viciously denounced by Pravda in an article title "Chaos Instead of Music" after a sexual scene in his opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk offended the prudish Josef Stalin, who with his entourage walked out of the performance. This was not like a Western artist getting a bad review; artists disapproved of by Stalin had a tendency to turn up dead. In fear, Shostakovich withdrew his Fourth Symphony after rehearsals. His seemingly less controversial Fifth Symphony was dubbed "a Soviet artist's creative answer to just criticism," but if the posthumously published memoir Testimony (the authenticity of which is highly controversial) is to be believed, the Fifth's finale is hollow, a secret mockery: "The rejoicing is forced, created under threat."

His Seventh Symphony, the "Leningrad," written while Russia resisted the Nazi invasion and Leningrad underwent a 900-day siege, was smuggled out of the U.S.S.R. on microfilm to be played in the West, where in the anti-German climate of World War II it became a symbol of heroic resistance and so did the composer, depicted on the cover of the July 20, 1942 Time no less, wearing a fireman's helmet in his purported role as fire warden guarding against air raid attacks.

In 1948, his Eighth and Ninth Symphonies were attacked by Tikhon Khrennikov, First Secretary of the Union of Soviet Composers. (The former was considered too dark and therefore defeatist; the latter too trivial and thus not the desired celebration of victory. This Soviet Goldilocks did not, however, find something between them that was "just right.") Against his will, Shostakovich was called on to act as a Soviet propagandist, a role at which he was utterly unconvincing but which he was afraid to reject. It was not until 1958 that he was officially "politically rehabilitated" and more or less allowed to work under a bit less scrutiny.

According to Testimony, from his Fifth Symphony on, his major works often have double meanings: a "social realist" program, and hidden anti-Stalin messages. His use of Jewish themes was perhaps his clearest resistance in the anti-Semitic U.S.S.R.; his 13th Symphony, "Babi Yar," was censored for using a poem by Yevgeney Yevtushenko that dealt with a Nazi massacre of Russian Jews.

Shostakovich did write mediocre music constructed to please Soviet bureaucrats (mostly ballet suites and film scores), but when he was writing for himself, or surreptitiously against the authorities, his music speaks movingly of disillusionment and pessimism. ("The majority of my symphonies are tombstones," he is supposed to have stated.) The likelihood that his music showed secret resistance to Soviet authority has posthumously raised his reputation in the West.

Whatever the programmatic elements of his music, Shostakovich's work can stand on its own merits apart from political programs. His 15 Symphonies are arguably the greatest such cycle since Mahler (whose influence is clear); cumulatively his 15 String Quartets are the supreme achievement in that format since Beethoven's. His concertos have become repertoire favorites, at least by the standards of 20th century fare. Now, a look at his most important work.

Symphonies

For a few years, the choice was easy. Rudolf Barshai, a longtime collaborator with Shostakovich and an excellent conductor, recorded a generally fine and often brilliant set of the fifteen symphonies that was reissued at an ultra-bargain price by Brilliant Classics. That seems to have gone out of print, although it may still be available as an import (though not nearly as cheaply as before). One of its benefits is that the lesser works in the cycle -- Symphonies Nos. 2-3 and 12 -- get unusually persuasive readings. He's exceptionally good, even great, in some of the masterpieces as well, with the Fifth taut, the Sixth nearly definitive, the Eighth profoundly intense, the Ninth capturing its subversiveness, the Tenth powerfully dramatic, the Eleventh aptly tragic, the Thirteenth ("Babi Yar") arguably the best and certainly the most soul-shaking recording ever, the Fourteenth (which Barshai premiered) highly perceptive in interpretation and deeply nerve-wracking. In the Seventh ("Leningrad") and the Fifteenth, Barshai offers streamlined alternatives to the top recommendations, downplaying the sarcastic bombast of the former (for those who find its apparently deliberately tasteless "invasion" sequence too over-the-top) and favoring humor rather than morbidity in the latter. There's a new complete SACD set on Capriccio led by Dmitri Kitaenko that's got somewhat superior sonics and competitive interpretations, though overall I still prefer Barshai. Either way, it's worth looking at key performances of the cycle's best works.

Symphony No. 1 in F minor, Op. 10 The First, however youthful, is a mature and deeply affecting work that ranks in the pantheon of the great symphonies. It's witty in the fast movements, heartbreaking in the slow ones -- a tendency Shostakovich often showed later as well. Leonard Bernstein's first recording (with the New York Philharmonic) is still the best, but -- like way too much Sony stuff lately -- it's out of print, though presumably it will reappear. (His later recording with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, on Deutsche Grammophon, coupled with a spectacular Seventh, is a bit hysterical to be entirely apt for this early work.) Leopold Stokowski was a dedicated advocate of Shostakovich's symphonic work throughout his career, and conducted the American premiere of the First Symphony (as well as the Sixth, Eleventh, and Twelfth). The sonics of his 1933 recording (a 1958 Capitol recording in much finer sound is now unavailable) with the Philadelphia Orchestra are not up to modern standards, but it's easy to hear what a superb performance it is. It comes in a two-CD set on Pearl with equally recommendable versions of the Fifth and Seventh. Many listeners will prefer the classic 1959 Eugene Ormandy recording with the Philadelphia Orchestra, just reissued by Sony/BMG and coupled with a must-have First Cello Concerto (see below). The intensity is lower than with Stokowski, but the Philadelphians play beautifully and the sound is pretty much perfect.

Symphony No. 4 in C minor, Op. 43 Shostakovich's most daringly modern symphony in sound and construction, it sat in a drawer for 25 years after he decided it was suicidally similar to the opera that offended Stalin; the premiere came in 1961. There used to be an excellent Columbia two-fer of Ormandy/Philadelphia in the Fourth (in 1963) and the Tenth; here's hoping it reappears soon. There's a thrilling Mstislav Rostropovich rendition (National Symphony Orchestra, far superior to his London recording), but only available in an uneven and expensive Teldec box set. Fortunately, this is one of the few Barshai performances available separately (on Regis) from his box set, and at a bargain price to boot.

Symphony No. 5 in D major, Op. 47 Shostakovich "rehabilitated" himself in 1937 with his Fifth, and it's long been the most popular of his symphonies; the Largo is one of his most heartrendingly beautiful slow movements. The bombastic finale, his appeasement of the cultural commissars, contains grinding dissonances that slip by in faster tempos, so some Russian conductors like to take it slowly to emphasize these, but Shostakovich specifically praised Bernstein's manic 1959 recording with the New York Philharmonic. That's available on two issues, one coupled with Bernstein's also-recommendable reading of the neo-Classical-flavored "merry" Ninth, the other instead augmented by Barshai's recording of his own arrangement for string orchestra of Shostakovich's gut-wrenching String Quartet No. 8 (retitled Chamber Symphony, Op. 83a). Bernstein made an even better (and better-sounding) recording of the Fifth twenty years later, a little slower and more piquant; it's coupled with an excellent Cello Concerto No. 1 (see below). I believe that no maestro has ever bettered Stokowski's 1939 performance (Pearl) in terms of balancing emotional drama and coherence, and the sound is superior to most records of that era, so relatively little orchestral detail is lost. The strings in I and III -- two of Shostakovich's most heartrendingly beautiful slow movements -- are lushly ravishing, and the winds and brass are sprightly and characterful in II and IV. Above all, Stokowski balances the piece's contrasting moods vividly and perfectly contours the phrasing.

Symphony No. 7, Op. 60 "Leningrad" The controversial Seventh was begun in July 1941, after Hitler invaded the U.S.S.R. The Nazi army soon besieged Leningrad for 900 days; about a million people died, a third of the city's population. Testimony says it depicts "the Leningrad that Stalin destroyed and that Hitler merely finished off." It's also musically controversial; in the first movement, a deliberately banal theme (how Mahleresque) interrupts the normal sonata form to graphically embody the Nazi invasion. The other three movements are heart-wrenching. Leading the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, supreme Mahlerite Bernstein imbues the Seventh with the fullest measures of his great emotive power in a brooding live recording on a two-CD set that's pricey but well worth the expense (his earlier NYPO recording of the Seventh, on Columbia/Sony, has 40 bars cut from the first movement and thus can't earn a whole-hearted recommendation in spite of its good points.) Stokowski's 1942 recording of the Seventh, with the NBC Symphony Orchestra, was made in the notoriously dry acoustics of NBC Studio 8-H (nor does it appear that Pearl had especially clean disks for its transfer). Arturo Toscanini and Stokowski -- then sharing conducting duties at NBC -- competed bitterly for the first American performance of the Seventh. Toscanini in later years expressed an aversion to the piece, but at the time it was an important symbol for the devoutly anti-Fascist Italian conductor: Shostakovich supposedly disliked Toscanini's exciting but ultimately one-dimensional reading (formerly on RCA, but not worth searching for). Stokowski's version is much more full-blooded, and collectors not averse to period sonics need to hear it.

Symphony No. 8 in C minor, Op. 65 From the Fifth on, Yevgeny Mravinsky led the premieres of most of Shostakovich's Symphonies. The desolate five-movement Eighth of 1943, mournful and monumental, is dedicated to him. One of Mravinsky's finest talents was making massive, potentially unwieldy structures cohere, a must in this work which opens with a nearly half-hour movement as tortured and intense as any by Mahler. His historic 1947 Melodiya recording is out of print, but a fiery 1960 concert recording released by the BBC's label is in better sound, of course, and absolutely earth-shattering in its emotional impact. As usual, he leads the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra. (Avoid an out-of-print 1982 recording that Philips mastered a half-step too high.) Andre Previn made two fine recordings with the London Symphony Orchestra, first for Angel (later EMI) in 1973, then for Deutsche Grammophon in 1992, but both are now gone -- too bad, both had excellent sonics.

Symphony No. 10 in E minor, Op. 93 The Tenth is perhaps Shostakovich's most formally satisfying symphony; written immediately after Stalin's 1953 death, its Allegro is said -- by no less an authority than Shostakovich's son Maxim -- to portray Stalin. The Ormandy (Columbia) is still the best. Why does he not get the respect of other conductors at his level? Maybe because he didn't care about image, just about music. Mravinsky's reading is also great but in a more forceful manner, emphasizing the pain in the music. His 1976 concert recording on Erato with the Leningrad Philharmonic, which he ruled for decades, is the most intense. The 1966 recording by Herbert von Karajan, who recorded none of the other symphonies but essayed this one twice, is also excellent. It's on Deutsche Grammophon, which also has a 1981 digital version that doesn't sound as good and isn't as exciting.

Symphony No. 11 in G minor, Op. 103 "The Year 1905" Another highly programmatic work that operates on two levels. In 1957, Shostakovich and his fellow composers were expected to commemorate the fortieth anniversary of the Revolution. He'd already been there, done that with his Second Symphony, "To October." instead, he depicted the 1905 massacre of a crowd by Czar Nicholas's palace guards. He did so soon after Soviet tanks had crushed the liberal regime in Budapest and hard-liners had been installed to keep Hungary in line with the U.S.S.R., so of course there's a double meaning: on the surface, sentiments the authorities couldn't criticize, but under that an implicit accusation. For a long time the Stokowski with the Houston Symphony Orchestra (Capitol/EMI), overflowing with drama and emotion, was the #1 choice. In 1996 Valery Polyansky with the Russian State Symphony on Chandos stretched every movement to excrutiating lengths (he takes 73:57 compared to Stokowski's 62:38, already on the longer end of the spectrum) and wrung every ounce of emotion from it in an absolutely devastating rendition. Some may find Polyansky too over-the-top, though, and want to stick with Stokowski.

Symphony No. 13 "Babi Yar" Shostakovich stirred up more trouble with this work, which uses poems by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, including "Babi Yar," addressing a Nazi massacre of Jews and the way the government had basically ignored it because of anti-Semitism. It caused a stir, and eventually the authorities required textual changes to soften the accusation. Barshai's rendition is available separately on Regis and features an excellent Russian bass, Sergei Alexashkin. Kurt Masur's stirring performance with the New York Philharmonic and Sergei Leiferkus (Teldec) comes with Yevtushenko reading "Babi Yar" and "The Loss."

Symphony No. 15, Op. 141 Shostakovich's last symphony presents difficult questions of interpretation too complex to go into here, though interested readers can read my in-depth review here. This can easily be seen as a dark and bitter work, yet Shostakovich's music is never merely depressed; there are always touches of sardonic humor. Early performances by Russian conductors either played down the darkest moments (Mravinsky, 1976 concert on Melodiya and Olympia) or emphasized the sardonic aspects (Kiril Kondrashin, Moscow Philharmonic, 1974 on Icone). Another early reading is Ormandy's (he gave the U.S. premiere), which sounds great and balances the different aspects of the score well. (On RCA, it's coupled with an unbeatable Emil Gilels rendition of the Piano Sonata No. 2.) The Bernard Haitink/London Philharmonic Orchestra recording is commendable both for excellent sound and for much more expansive slow movements; altogether, it lasts 45 minutes and 39 seconds (the score suggests a duration of "approximately 48 minutes") as opposed to the much quicker Mravinsky (39:31) and Kondrashin (40:11). It includes an equally fine reading of the devastating song cycle From Jewish Folk Poetry with soloists Elisabeth Soderstrom (soprano), Ortrun Wenkel (contralto), and Ryszard Karczykowski (tenor). But for the most emotionality, Kurt Sanderling's second recording (1991, Erato) is the one to get -- plus the Cleveland Orchestra sounds wonderful.

Concertos

In all three cases, the first concerto Shostakovich wrote for an instrument is more popular than its successors. There's a Columbia disc that combines the premiere recordings of two of them. The Violin Concerto No. 1 in A minor, Op. 77 (99)was another "drawer" work, finished in 1948 but saved until 1955 (resulting in dual opus numbers) for publication and performance. Dedicated to David Oistrakh, who premiered it, it's a real virtuoso showcase and stands out sonically for its omission of trumpets and trombones. He's accompanied superbly here by the New York Philharmonic led by Dimitri Mitropoulos. The Concerto for Cello & Orchestra No. 1 in E-flat major, Op. 107 is another dazzler, thanks especially to its massive written-out cadenza. It was written in 1959 for dedicatee Mstislav Rostropovich, who amazingly learned the solo part in just four days. Ormandy and the Philadelphians support him in fine style. Both the performances on this CD were taped in the U.S. in the late 1950s, when a certain amount of cultural exchange had begun. The second concertos shouldn't be forgotten just because they are less ingratiating. Oistrakh's best version of the Violin Concerto No. 2, Op. 129, was the premiere recording with Kondrashin that used to be available on a two-CD RCA Red Seal Artists of the Century set, The Essential David Oistrakh, that also included a thrilling First Concerto with Mravinsky accompanying. (Could this label please be less cavalier about keeping its treasures available to the public?) Fortunately, a concert reading with Yevgeny Svetlanov and the USSR State Symphony Orchestra on the BBC's label, also paired with the First (with Gennady Rozhdestvensky and the Philharmonia Orchestra), picks up the slack, though it's an iota less precise and exciting. And the 1990s recordings by Maxim Vengerov must also be heard for their superhuman energy. They come on separate Teldec discs, each paired with the Prokofiev concerto of the same number. Mstislav Rostropovich conducts the London Symphony Orchestra, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he leads them along the same razor's edge that Vengerov is walking!

It's inevitable that just as Oistrakh dominates the Violin Concertos that were written for him, Rostropovich dominates the Cello Concertos composed with him in mind. His best reading of No. 2, Op. 126 came with Seiji Ozawa and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, now available on a two-CD Deutsche Grammophon set. There is also a cheap two-CD EMI set on which Rostropovich plays both concertos, with Gennady Rozhdestvensky leading the Moscow Philharmonic in the First and Yevgeny Svetlanov the USSR State Symphony Orchestra in the Second. There has so far been no Vengerov of the cello to seriously challenge Rostropovich's supremacy in these pieces.

Shostakovich was a pianist himself, and though the gloomy works are taken most seriously, he also wrote effervescent music as witty as Poulenc's; his two concertos with piano (the one adding trumpet is really No. 1) display this side of his personality. Pianists more assured than the composer have recorded them, but he did get a diploma of honor in the 1926 International Chopin Competition. His 1958 readings, now in EMI's Great Recordings of the Century series, have unsurpassed vitality and soul. The solo piano passage in the fourth movement of the First Concerto at times seem rather hectic, but the notes are all there and the effect is somehow appropriate. Trumpeter Ludovic Vaillant's vibrant tone is practically echt-Russian. Andre Cluytens leads the French National Radio Orchestra. There is more of the composer's dark humor in these performances than in any others. Some solo pieces, especially five Preludes & Fugues (despite some gabbled contrapuntal passages), are valuable filler. I also recommend Bernstein's effervescent performances of the concertos, but guess what? You'll have to look for them used. Yefim Bronfman's set with the Los Angeles Philharmonic under Esa-Pekka Salonen (Sony) is also excellent and offers fine sonics. For the most high-energy First, Martha Argerich is dazzling with trumpeter Guy Touvron and Jorg Faerber leading the Wurttemberg Chamber Orchestra Heilbronn on Deutsche Grammophon.

Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk

Ironically, the work that caused Shostakovich the most trouble was a massive success at first, hailed as a "triumph of Soviet musical theatre" and a "giant step toward Socialist Realism." Its very success led Stalin to attend a performance, where the dictator was offended by the eroticism of the story (famously, a sex scene is accompanied by lascivious trombone glissandos) and the extreme dissonances in the harmonies, leading directly to the infamous Pravda denunciation. Unheard for years, it now lives on the fringe of the repertoire, still shocking to conservative audiences. This classic performance led by Rostropovich (EMI) features soprano Galina Vishnevskaya and bass Nicolai Gedda, two of the greatest Russian singers of the second half of the 20th century. Rostropovich was a student of Shostakovich and became friend and collaborator. When Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk was allowed to be revived in the 1960s, culminating in a film, Rostropovich led the cello section, and his wife, Vishnevskaya, sang the title role. Valuable experience with the composer leading, but Shostakovich had felt obliged to revise the work. Rostropovich says Shostakovich asked him to use the original 1932 score if he ever recorded it, and Rostropovich found a copy of this lost score in, surprisingly, the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. One month before this set was recorded in April 1978, Rostropovich and Vishnevskaya had their Soviet citizenships revoked. This stunning two-CD set oozes sarcasm, fury, black humor, and even deeply touching beauty, but always emotional intensity. Vishnevskaya's indelibly etched performance as Katerina Ismailov is the focus, and she earns all of the many kudos this performance has garnered, but the entire cast is inspired.

String Quartets It has often been noted that, where the Symphonies were Shostakovich's public face, the String Quartets -- also 15 in number -- were his private expression. Partly this of course is inherent in the genre, but in his case it's also because the bureaucracy paid relatively little attention to chamber music, giving him much greater latitude for self-expression. No quartet cycle of the 20th century matches Shostakovich's 15 in sheer nerve-wracking impact, emotional breadth, and imaginative variety, not to mention debatable subtexts and hidden meanings. The angst-ridden Eighth is the boldest scream of anguish and anger, while the Fifteenth is a stunning, numbing acceptance of oncoming death, bereft of hope. The Borodin Quartet's classic second cycle (for Melodiya, the Soviet state label) is overwhelming in its outpouring of emotion, and includes the Piano Quintet with Sviatoslav Richter. Unhappily, both this set as reissued by BMG and their earlier, incomplete cycle of 1 through 13 (because the last two hadn't been written yet) reissued by Chandos have both disappeared again. Nor is the Beethoven Quartet, which premiered many of the quartets and worked closely with the composer, currently represented in the racks, though there is a reissue scheduled for November. But not only is the Emerson Quartet's 2000 cycle on Deutsche Grammophon available, it was repackaged earlier this year in a bargain box that goes for under $40 for five CDs. The Emerson's intense, energetic survey of the cycle was recorded in concert at the Aspen Music Festival in 1994 and '98-99. Intonation, blend, and balance are impeccable; this is the lean, knife-like alternative (similar to the Beethoven Quartet) to the Borodin's more expansive approach. The sonics are as good as studio sound, but the "live" playing carries an extra edge that's undeniable.

Sonata for Cello & Piano, Op. 40; Sonata for Violin & Piano, Op. 134; Trio for Violin, Cello & Piano, Op. 67 Shostakovich's chamber music is intimate and highly personal, aspects highlighted by this remarkable Eclectra collection on which the composer plays the piano parts. The 1968 Violin Sonata was recorded that year at Oistrakh's Moscow apartment. The Cello Sonata with Daniil Shafran comes from a 1946 Melodiya session, while the Piano Trio with Oistrakh and cellist Milos Sadlo dates from 1947 for Supraphon. Sound on all three items is remarkably good under the circumstances, and the performances are stunning.

24 Preludes & Fugues for Piano, Op. 87 This intimate, abstract 1950-51 cycle was inspired in the bicentennial of Bach's death by the example of the Well-Tempered Clavier. It's in stark contrast to his usual modes of writing, and as played with tonal sheen and digital dexterity by Jarrett, quite beautiful. Keith Jarrett's 1992 recording (ECM) is much easier on the ears than the dour, labored recordings by the cycle's dedicatee, Tatiana Nikolaeva (first Melodiya, then Hyperion). Though Jarrett's playing is polished and generally moves at a quicker pace than either Nikolaeva or Vladimir Ashkenazy, darker works -- for instance, No. 14 -- are given their just weight and mysteriousness. If his reading abjures overwhelming Russian angst, that seems reasonable and fittingly Bachian; if you want the angst, get Ashkenazy (Decca). Jarrett also has the best sound of the three. Choosing Jarrett in this music is a minority opinion, probably because he's -- gasp -- an American jazz musician rather than Russian, but hey, Shostakovich liked jazz.

The Art Song, Part 1: Lieder

Steve Holtje — Sun, 25 Oct 2015 16:37:03 +0000

The Art Song, Part 1: Lieder Steve Holtje October 25, 2015 - 12:37

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

A major glossy magazine that used to be devoted largely to music -- but long ago fell under the spell of Hollywood celebrity -- still continues to cover music, specializing in listicles that seem designed mainly to provoke ire in those who care more about music than does said magazine (named after a classic blues song, in case you can't guess without a hint). This summer it unleashed a list of songs that, with that aging publication's ironically weak sense of history, managed to overlook the vast majority of the history of song. To put it bluntly, if you're claiming to discuss the best songs ever written and you don't even mention Franz Schubert, you're an ignoramus. My ire over this blinkered attitude towards music history festered for months, so I finally decided to do something about it by writing about some of the timeless songs omitted in the aforementioned myopic listicle. There are so many great songs in the history of classical music that no one article could contain it, so first I focus on one particularly rich tradition, the German lieder. I plan to write a sequel covering classical songs from other traditions, though I admit that my track record of completing these big projects has been a bit spotty!

Ludwig van Beethoven: An die ferne Geliebte, Op. 98; 3 Songs, Op. 83; assorted lieder & songs

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau/Jörg Demus (Deutsche Grammophon)

Mainstream listeners often overlook Beethoven's lieder amid the richness of his more famous output, but the six-song An die ferne Geliebte (To the distant beloved), composed in 1816, is considered the first song cycle and thus is historically important to connoisseurs of song. The composer brings to the form the inventiveness and willfulness that characterizes so much of his work, although it must be noted that in his mind, "lieder" denoted strophic songs (every verse using the same music), and the songs of An die ferne Geliebte are through-composed (changing with every new verse). However, that is a distinction that soon faded, and this cycle is considered a milestone in the lieder tradition. Baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, by far the most praised exponent of the art of lieder, adds levels of emotional shading through his careful attention to the texts, and includes in this program a set of songs (Op. 83) setting poems by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, whose work was important in raising the quality of texts used in lieder. This CD includes an additional eighteen lieder and other songs by Beethoven.

Franz Schubert: Winterreise, Op. 89, D.911

Hans Hotter/Gerald Moore (EMI Classics)

Schubert's lieder are his greatest contribution to music history, not least his three great cycles -- Die schöne Müllerin, Die Winterreise, and Schwanengesang. The most famous and immediately appealing cycle is Die schöne Müllerin (The Fair Maid of the Mill), which sets twenty poems of Wilhelm Müller that tell a melodramatic tale of a simple man who falls in love but, rather easily discouraged, commits suicide in despair.

Less overstated and more psychologically profound is Die Winterreise (The Winter Journey), also setting poems of Müller. Written in 1827, it has been called the finest of all song cycles. One night in the dead of Winter, a man slips out of a village. As the poems tell us his thoughts, we learn he has had his heart broken by an unfaithful woman. He frequently relates his sorrow to the cold, dark, desolate landscape he passes through, the crow which flies overhead, the dogs that bark at him in the night, etc. Meanwhile, bittersweet memories of happier times change the mood yet ultimately only add to his anguish. By the twenty-third song, the protagonist seems to be hallucinating, seeing three suns in the sky. In the twenty-fourth and final song, he comes across an old man who, despite being shunned by people and beset by growling dogs, is playing a hurdy-gurdy with stolid determination. The image of music as eternal solace for the lonely offers a final glimmer of hope, or at least peace, in an otherwise bleak cycle.

Schubert's consummate mastery of the lieder form is apparent throughout. Even within the dominating mood of despair mingled with resigned resolution, he finds enough variety to give each song individual characterization. He does this not only with the harmonies and melodies and tempos, but also the style of the piano accompaniment; the pianist is practically an equal partner with the singer.

This classic recording from 1954 matches a superb bass-baritone with arguably the best lieder accompanist ever. Hans Hotter's dark tone perfectly matches the material. While certainly not ignoring the words, Hotter emphasizes the long line, to good effect; it adds to the intensity of this most intense of song cycles. Not that he sings in an undifferentiated manner: his tone always matches the mood of the text. In material often treated with nearly excruciating fussiness, attempting to wring every subtlety from the words (a criticism of Fischer-Dieskau), Hotter's approach is refreshing. Moore is always supportive and often sets the mood with his articulation and phrasing. Though the sound is mono, it hardly matters: the musicians have strong presence, and noise is not an issue.

Citing just one CD is severely under-representing Schubert in this field; Fischer-Dieskau recorded all of Schubert's lieder for baritone range, a monumental and educational effort that occupies 21 CDs.

Robert Schumann: Dichterliebe, Op. 48; 12 Gedichte, Op. 35; 7 Lieder: Op. 25 Nos. 2, 8, 17-18; Op. 36 No. 2; Op. 79 Nos. 23, 27; Liederkreis, Op. 24; Myrten, Op. 25 Nos. 1, 3, 5-7, 15, 21, 24, 26; 11 Lieder (poems of Emanuel Geibel): Op. 74 Nos. 6-7, 10; Op. 79 Nos. 7-8; Op. 138 Nos. 2-3, 5, 7; Op. 51 No. 1; Op. 30 No. 3; 5 Lieder: Op. 49 Nos. 1-2; Op. 45 No. 3; Op. 101 No. 4; Op. 142 No. 4

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau/Jörg Demus, Günther Weissenborn (Deutsche Grammophon)

Schumann, the most consciously Romantic of composers with his multiple personalities and self-referential writings, penned some of the most musically and psychologically complex lieder. His major cycle is Dichterliebe (A Poet's Love), a sixteen-song set written in 1840 that sets poems by Heinrich Heine. Schumann matches the feverish intensity of the poems with chromatic music that mirrors the poet's shifting emotions and extreme moods. Schumann had warmed up for this cycle with the slightly earlier Liederkreis, Op. 24 (the title just means "song cycle," and he used it again for his Op. 39), also setting poems of Heine. Perhaps not coincidentally, both sets conclude with a poem speaking of burying the songs; this emphasizes the self-consciousness of Romanticism.

This is not an actually available two-disc set, alas, but it is two CDs (later released separately) in the twenty-one disc Fischer-Dieskau Edition box from 2000. There is a two-disc set that overlaps some of these recordings, but using later recordings with pianist Christoph Eschenbach on some material. A little advice regarding Fischer-Dieskau: the earlier, the better. The older he got, the weaker his upper range became and the more he overcompensated with fussy interpretations. So the 1960 and '65 recordings with Demus are prime recommendations, and later remakes of Dichterliebe (which DF-D released four recordings of), etc. are less vocally rich -- in particular, don't let his team-up with pianist Alfred Brendel seduce you with its brand-name allure. The CD containing Dichterliebe also includes two sets in 1957 mono with Weissenborn, 12 Gedichte (poems by Justinus Kerner) and a further assortment of seven lieder, a very welcome bonus on which DF-D's quiet high notes are things of beauty and a lesson in sensitive singing.

Brahms: Four Serious Songs, op. 121; 10 assorted Lieder

Hans Hotter/Gerald Moore (EMI Classics)

It is cheating a bit to include Brahms's Four Serious Songs in a lieder overview, since these settings of Biblical texts technically aren't lieder, but they are certainly coming from that tradition and fit well alongside Brahms's lieder. If anything, I should include more Brahms lieder than this, but this particular recording is one of the glories of the literature; singing doesn't get any better than on these 1951 and '56 recordings. The Four Serious Songs have never been projected by a more beautiful, finely modulated voice, and the legendary Hotter -- the finest lieder singer before Fischer-Dieskau, and there are observers who feel Hotter was never actually dethroned -- is fully aware of the texts, while showing that awareness subtly rather than pointedly. The selection of other lieder is delivered with the same gorgeous finesse and rich tonal sheen, and accompanist Moore is -- as always -- supreme in this role. (Also on this disc is perhaps the most beautiful recording of Bach's Cantata for baritone "Ich habe genug," BWV 82 -- not lieder, but a must-own). There are so many riches here that finding this import is a necessity. (Note that an additional eight assorted lieder from the 1956 session drawn on here can be found on a Testament reissue simply entitled Lieder Recital.)

Gustav Mahler: Das Lied von der Erde

Christa Ludwig/Fritz Wunderlich/Philharmonia Orchestra & Chorus/Otto Klemperer (EMI Classics)

Lieder originally were for voice and piano, but later in Romanticism came orchestral lieder. This is the supreme example, a setting so monumental that Mahler secretly considered it a symphony. Mahler wrote the six-movement song-cycle Das Lied von der Erde (The Song of the Earth) in 1907-08 after learning of his heart problem. The nostalgic yet angst-ridden texts are from German poet Hans Bethge's collection The Chinese Flute, paraphrases of eighth-century Chinese poems. Mahler chose some of the most poignant ones; the movements are "The Drinking Song of Earthly Woe," "The Lonely One in Autumn," "Of Youth, "Of Beauty," "The Drunken One in Springtime," and the half-hour-long "The Farewell," the latter combining several poems. It's a meditation on -- and wailing against, but acceptance of -- aging and mortality against the backdrop of the eternal cycles of nature, with the orchestral colors lending both variety and intensification of emotion. I don't think there has ever been a more beautiful and profoundly musical recording than this 1964-66 one with alto Christa Ludwig and ill-fated tenor Fritz Wunderlich.

Some connoisseurs, however, prefer it to be sung by two men (tenor and baritone), which seems to fit the autobiographical nature of the work. For that lineup, it's hard to beat the classic late-'50s recording by tenor Murray Dickie and Fischer-Dieskau with the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Paul Kletzki (also on EMI).

Hugo Wolf: Goethe-Lieder Nos. 1-3, 14-15, 29, 34, 36, 49, 51; Mörike-Lieder Nos. 5, 9-10, 12; Italian Leider Book Nos. 14, 22, 27; Michelangelo Songs Nos. 1-3; Eichendorff-Lieder No. 2

Hans Hotter/Gerald Moore (Testament)

Wolf (1860-1903) was the epitome of the emotionally troubled Romantic artist, a love-triangle-obsessed bi-polar genius alternating between periods of prolific output and barren stretches of depression culminating in syphilitic brain rot, a suicide attempt in 1899 when he was no longer able to compose, and then self-incarceration in an asylum until the end of his life. In his short, turbulent lifespan, Wolf specialized almost exclusively in concisely compressed lieder, creating an insular style full of slippery chromaticism that it can take a while to warm up to. Once one acquires a taste for it, though, it is eerily compelling. Hotter's dark tone is perfect for this music, as is his emphasis on the long line in Wolf's serpentine melodies. This album collecting EMI sessions from 1951, '53, and '57 is considered a classic by lieder aficionados.

Richard Strauss: Four Last Songs; 12 Orchestral Lieder

Elisabeth Schwarzkopf/Berlin RSO, London Symphony Orchestra/George Szell (EMI Classics)

Near the end of his life, Strauss (1864-1949) did autumnal rumination as well as any composer ever did, reaching his peak with his famous Four Last Songs, written the year before his death. He started by setting the Joseph von Eichendorf (1788-1857) poem "Im Abendrot" (At Sunset), then three by Hesse; the order in which they were published (with "Im Abendrot" coming last), and even their being published as a set, were decided after the composer's death.

Alexander von Zemlinsky: Six Songs, Op. 13; Richard Wagner: Wesendonck Lieder; Brahms: Alto Rhapsody, Op. 53; Schoenberg: "Lied der Waldtaube" (Song of the Wood Dove) from Gurre-Lieder

Dagmar Pecková/Prague Philharmonia/Jiří Bĕlohlávek (Supraphon)

The music of Zemlinsky (1871-1942), a Late Romantic composer verging on modernism in the fin-de-siècle-Vienna idiom, has been much-revived in recent years, albeit mostly on recordings. His Six Songs, Op. 13, on poems of Maurice Maeterlinck are small masterpieces for mezzo-soprano and full orchestra. Dating from 1910 and 1913, they are ripely Romantic works bursting with expression. Harmonies are sometimes ambiguous (think Tristan und Isolde but more '30s Hollywood), but the rich melodies -- not only in the vocal line, but also in the strings and woodwinds -- always pull the music forward as it expresses a nearly decadent Weltschmerz, or sometimes an almost painful yearning, entirely apt to the purple poems. This album's four-composer program also lets me squeeze in Wagner's only famous lieder, plus a few pieces by composers covered elsewhere in my little survey. Alas, Pecková's Zemlinsky isn't available on YouTube.

Schoenberg: 2 Songs, Op. 1; 4 Lieder, Op. 2, Das Buch der hängenden Gärten, Op. 15

Donald Gramm/Ellen Faull/Helen Vanni/Glenn Gould (CBS Masterworks)

Schoenberg's atonal fifteen-song cycle Das Buch der hängenden Gärten (The Book of the Hanging Gardens) is an Expressionist masterpiece. In setting to music a group of poems by Stefan George about the disintegration of a relationship, the composer also commented on the disintegration of tonality (though note that this is not yet twelve-tone/serial music, which Schoenberg would famously develop a little later). Written in 1908-09, Op. 15 was his great break from tonality, which he had stretched as far as it could go. It is disturbing and far from easy listening, but quite powerful; pianist Glenn Gould, the impetus behind this 1966 release, offers exactly the febrile atmosphere the music requires, and mezzo-soprano Helen Vanni handles the difficulties of the vocal line with aplomb. Two earlier sets of songs (Op. 1 with estimablt bass-baritone Gramm, Op. 2 with underrated soprano Faull) show just how advanced Schoenberg already was at the beginning of his career while contextualizing how much further Op. 15 went.

Othmar Schoeck: Liederzyklus, Op. 44; 8 assorted lieder; 15 assorted lieder

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau/Margit Weber, Karl Engel (Deutsche Grammophon)

DF-D's devotion to lieder combined with his celebrity to bring lieder obscurities to light. A particularly rewarding example is his long advocacy of German-Swiss composer Othmar Schoeck (1886-1957), who devoted his career to vocal music. Critics emphasized the backwards-looking aspect of his lieder, which are admittedly less radical than those of Schoenberg and Webern but nonetheless are more modern (sometimes with bitonality) than he was given credit for. Though he often drew from the same poetic pool as the previous century's composers had, he also set words of Hermann Hesse (1877-1962) and thus dealt directly with modern themes of alienation that found vivid expression in his music.

Best New Classical Albums of 2014

Steve Holtje — Sun, 28 Dec 2014 08:57:40 +0000

Best New Classical Albums of 2014 Steve Holtje December 28, 2014 - 03:57

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

It was another year full of great classical music. Here are my favorites from 2014, new releases only, no reissues.

1. Magnificat/Philip Cave

The Tudors at Prayer

(Linn)

This superbly programmed and performed album contains eight Latin sacred choral works (specifically motets, mostly votive antiphons and psalm motets) by John Taverner (c.1490-1545), Thomas Tallis (c.1505-1585), William Mundy (c.1529-1591), Robert White (c.1538-1574), and William Byrd (c.1540-1621). Active during the period of greatest religious upheaval in English history, they kept writing richly layered polyphony despite changing fashions (though the later composers listed would also provide chordal English-language anthems as needed).

The mightiest work here, Mundy's Vox Patris caelestis, leads off the program. The text, speaking as it does of "flowering vines" and their "heavenly ambrosial scent," practically begs for an elaborate polyphonic setting, and Mundy provided one that is among the most exquisite works of the 16th century. The program contains two more Mundy motets, two by White, and one each by the three more generally famous composers, another point in its favor. Over the past decade, this English choir (formed in 1991) has become one of the very best in the field, and sounds perfectly luscious here, warming their phrases naturally without making it into a distracting quirk (unlike another English group I could mention). Their balance is perfect, their tone a thing of beauty, their dynamics subtly but effectively deployed. Linn, a label whose engineering is always top-notch, displays Magnificat's skills to best advantage. There is no album this year that has brought me more unalloyed pleasure.

2. The Elizabeth-Caroline Unit

Darius Jones: The Oversoul Manual

(AUM Fidelity)

A jazz-identified musician who, for this release at least, is working in the classical realm, Jones is an excellent alto saxophonist, but also a consistently interesting composer, so this move to fully notated music for an a cappella quartet of female singers is hardly too big a hurdle for him to clear. The degree to which I loved this on first hearing, however, surprised me; this isn't just interesting, it's downright masterful. The closest musical analogies I hear, and not consistently at that, are the way Morton Feldman worked with not-quite-repetitive patterns to create kaleidoscopic sound-objects, and the Gyorgy Ligeti-esque frequent deployment of rich tone clusters. And, for that matter, Jones's adept placement of particular vowels (using an invented language) on long notes also recalls some Feldman works. That said, you'd never confuse a Jones piece with anything by either Feldman or Ligeti; Jones's music is far more restless and kinetic. Beyond the piquant harmonies, rhythm/tempo contrasts, and angular melodies that give the music so much of its character, the singers use some drastically inflected timbres and intonations to adjust mood. The effect is absolutely striking, full of variety over its 52 minutes yet absolutely coherent.

3. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet/BBC Philharmonic/Gianandrea Noseda

Prokofiev: Piano Concertos Nos. 1-5

(Chandos)

This superb pianist also continued his generally excellent Beethoven piano sonatas cycle this year, but this was the Bavouzet set from Chandos that really knocked me out. It also knocked my previous preferred Prokofiev concertos cycle, by Michel Beroff on EMI, from its perch as my top recommendation. Yes, Ashkenazy's with Previn on Decca is also excellent, but there's something about the scintillating insouciance of French pianists in this repertoire that I prefer, and Bavouzet has that in spades. He and Noseda collaborate on performances that sparkle like just-poured champagne, though also allowing the slow movements their due lyricism. Noseda and the British orchestra complement and contrast as required and it's all captured in brilliant sound. Also worth a comment is that this set's booklet features some of the best notes I've ever read, first Prokofiev expert David Nice's detailed ones on the concertos, then Bavouzet's shorter observations about performing these works.

4. Alisa Weilerstein/Frank Peter Zimmermann/Garrick Ohlsson/Czech Philharmonic/Jirí Belohlávek

Dvořák: Complete Symphonies & Concertos

(Decca)

The new top recommendation for a complete set of the symphonies is certainly the best-sounding set, highly detailed (a function not only of the engineering but also of the conductor's attention to detail) yet also warm. It also, crucially, does full justice to the underrated symphonies before the famous 7-9, even making the first three sound good. Time and again, the orchestra's echt-Czech tones combine with Belohlávek's shaping of the music to present Dvorák's tuneful themes with a piquant songfulness that brings out their wistful melancholy in all its psychologically layered glory. Belohlávek's tendency to breadth is balanced by his general omission of exposition repeats (he only takes them in the more tightly wound Fourth and Fifth Symphonies), which I'm in agreement with. The concerto soloists are uniformly excellent. In particular, the Piano Concerto, which so often seems awkward, here is graceful and charming.

5. Christiane Libor/Ewa Wolak/Daniel Kirch/Janusz Monarcha/Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra & Choir/Antoni Wit

Dvořák:Requiem, Op. 89

(Naxos)

Dvořák'sRequiem, though a great work, requires considerable mastery in performance to put it across. It's a bit long even by Requiem standards, and a bit grimmer and lighter on consolation than any other Requiem in the standard repertoire; it's quite demanding of both soloists and orchestra; and its music is not especially ingratiating. That may not make it sound like something you'll want to listen to, but the good news is that Wit -- who achieves superstar results nearly every time out yet somehow still flies under the radar -- conjures just the right tempos to make it flow, assembles a magnificent quartet of soloists, and as usual makes his Warsaw Philharmonic sound like one of the top orchestras in the world. Its woodwinds glint darkly, its brass glow with burnished fire, and its choir can stand with the best. This joins the classic Kertész account on Decca at the top of the heap, but with a more characterful orchestral sound. (This is a two-disc set with just 98 minutes of music, no filler, but with Naxos being a low-cost label, that's okay.)

6. Anonymous 4

Lang: Love Fail

(Cantaloupe)

A number of Minimalist composers whose instrumental works I enjoy nonetheless stumble when setting words -- or, at least, don't match my tastes in word-setting. David Lang is a welcome exception (Reich is another). There's a gracefulness to Lang's settings, even as his music deliberately makes listeners a bit uneasy, that absolutely entrances me. Female vocal quartet Anonymous 4 (soon to retire from performance, alas) adeptly handles the hazards of Lang's tricky and exposed lines, with their slippery dissonances and stark pauses. This album has been seen by some as a near-sequel to Lang's masterpiece, The Little Match Girl Passion, given the similarities of performing forces (four voices and bells [though Love Fail also includes a little percussion]), and of course Lang's compositional style, but Love Fail has a very different impact, more intimate and personalized. It's heartbreaking not in the historical-trope fashion of Passion, but in a this-could-happen-to-you-or-me way that makes it psychologically painful to attentively listen to, though if you just put it on in the background and don't pay attention to the words, it's lovely.

7. Elizabeth Watts/Wiebke Lehmkuhl/Lothar Odinius/Markus Eiche/RIAS Kammerchor/Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin/Hans-Christoph Rademann

C.P.E. Bach: Magnificat in D major, Wq. 215; Symphony in D major, Wq. 183; Heilig ist Gott, Wq. 217

(Harmonia Mundi)

Finally C.P.E.'s superb Magnificat (written in 1749, supposedly as a sort of audition to take over his father's job in Leipzig) gets a period-performance recording that fully makes the case for its excellence. Odinius occasionally pushes his tone a bit too hard, but other than that the soloists are wonderful, the RIAS Chamber Choir is wonderful as usual, Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin sounds better than I've ever heard them before, and Rademann's apt tempos leave plenty of room for the expressive moments while getting maximum thrills out of the joyful uptempo sections and plenty of brio in the sparkling climaxes of majesty. There's also a shorter, more modern choral work and one of C.P.E.'s later symphonies to fill out the album, as well as the overview of his styles.

8. Viva Voce/Peter Schubert

Scenes from the Gospels: Motets from Josquin to Palestrina

(Atma Classique)

Readers with good memories may recall that in this article culturecatch.com/music/album-year-1961-2010-classical (see 2005) I mentioned that I studied with the conductor of this group. But though my bias made me pick this CD out of the piles that accumulate over the course of the year thanks to friendly publicists, its goodness is unconnected to my bias. This is an interesting program of 16th century choral music, with composers ranging from the famous (Josquin des Prez, Palestrina) to the favorites of aficionados (Gombert, Willaert, Manchicourt) to two new to me (Jacquet of Mantua, Michele Pesenti AKA Michael of Verona). Schubert, who literally wrote the book on this kind of polyphony (really: Modal Counterpoint, Renaissance Style [Oxford University Press]), and his Montreal-based twelve-singer choir mold these pieces beautifully, "warming up" notes and phrases without overdoing the "hairpin dynamics" the way the Hilliard Ensemble did after a while. Dynamics, blends, and balances are impeccable; no fan of Renaissance choral music should pass this album by.

9. Biljana Urban

Voříšek: Complete Works for Piano, vol. 1: 6 Impromptus, Op. 7; Fantasie in C major, Op. 12; Sonata quasi una fantasia in B-flat minor, Op. 20

(Grand Piano)

Naxos' prolific piano-centric sub-label has exposed us to a plethora of under-heard music over the past few years. Bohemian composer Jan Václav Hugo Voříšek (1791-1825), known in recent decades (though only among cognoscenti) for two masterpieces, his sole symphony and his Mass in B-flat major, died of tuberculosis at just 34 years of age. His less-known piano output, though championed by a few performers, has never to my knowledge been taken up by a top-tier virtuoso, presumably due to Voříšek's obscurity. Here, however -- more than when played by the competition -- his works come off as significant expressions of early Romanticism. (Voříšek was influenced by Beethoven and was friends with Schubert.) In particular, Urban plays Op. 20 with magnificent breadth and weight. The Impromptus, by the way, were published in 1822 and were apparently an influence on Schubert's subsequent Impromptus (pub. 1827). Voříšek's are thoroughly enjoyable on their own terms.

10. Lori Phillips (Clytemnestra/Ghost of Clytemnestra)/Dan Kempson (Orestes)/Sidney Outlaw (Apollo)/Kristin Eder (Electra)/Julianna Di Giacomo (Pythia); etc./UMS Choral Union/University of Michigan Chamber Choir/University of Michigan University Choir/University of Michigan Orpheus Singers/University of Michigan Percussion Ensemble/University of Michigan Symphony Orchestra/Kenneth Kiesler

Milhaud: L'Orestie d'Eschyle (L'Agamemnon, Op. 14; Les choéphores, Op. 24; Les euménides, Op. 41)

(Naxos)

Some classical fans will be familiar with Les choéphores, recorded most memorably by Igor Markevitch and Leonard Bernstein; far fewer will have heard L'Agamemnon and Les euménides. To have recorded all of these Aeschylus settings together for the first time is a spectacular accomplishment. So while this three-CD set is not quite a perfect package (Kempson's vibrato is wilder and woollier than I like), merely having such a welcome release of this weird, savage, and compelling music is enough. (One reviewer lamented the lack of a libretto [by the great French poet Paul Claudel] and translations, but though omitted from the booklet, these are available on the Naxos website.) Milhaud's polytonal mastery and his colorful orchestration make for many striking moments, Phillips and Outlaw deliver fine performances, and the much-featured choirs handle the harmonically demanding music with aplomb. Opera fans looking for change-of-pace repertoire will find this just as rewarding as Strauss's better-known Elektra. And considering that I'm not even that much of an opera devotee and I find this absolutely enthralling, even non-opera fans should consider picking up this highly dramatic and musically rewarding set.

11. *Andrea Danková/Jana Sykorová/Tomáš Juhás/Jozef Bendi; #Alzbeta Polácková (Angel)/Pavel Cernoch (Joachim da Fiore); Prague Philharmonic Choir/Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra/Tomáš Netopil

Janáček:*Glagolitic Mass; #The Eternal Gospel

(Supraphon)

In the past, there has been at least one edition, and apparently a few others, purporting to be the original version of the Glagolitic Mass, but apparently the one edited by Jiří Zahrádka, referred to as the September 1927 version, is the most authentic; it is recorded here for the first time. Czech conductor Tomáš Netopil has already impressed in Janáček, and based on this recording he appears to be a rising star. It's not made clear exactly what the differences are, but here and there I catch bits that sound more rhythmically complex or a little more dissonant harmonically. The overall impression is of a more feral and passionate piece; certainly this recording sounds great in all possible ways -- interpretation, execution, and sonics. We also get a different coupling than usual, a 1914 piece about a monk receiving from an Angel a vision of the coming kingdom of love. I've never heard another composer's work that sounds like Janáček's, and this program conveys that distinctiveness pungently.

12. Schola Antiqua of Chicago/Michael Alan Anderson

Missa Conceptio Tua: Medieval and Renaissance Music for Advent

(Naxos)

Yeah, Naxos had a pretty good year! I was listening to this for a possible 2014 holiday music article, but became so infatuated with this CD's world premiere recording of Missa Conceptio Tua by Pierre de la Rue (c.1452-1518) and the wonderful tone of the low basses that I couldn't resist saving it for this list instead. The other half of the program here consists of the seven ancient chants referred to as the O Antiphons, the later chant Alma Redemptoris Mater, and three familiar late Medieval English carols: "There is no rose of swych vertu," "Hail Mary, full of grace," and "Nova, nova!"

13. New York Philharmonic/Alan Gilbert

Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4

(Da Capo)

The New York Philharmonic is a perfect match for Nielsen's music, since both are craggy, muscular, mercurial, and exuding nerve-wracking tension. That's not to say Maestro Gilbert doesn't deserve credit for channeling those traits in a finely proportioned way; the keenly honed precision of the rhythms here is key. His ongoing project of recording them is one of the most valuable cycles currently in progress. With No. 4 "Inextinguishable" -- perhaps the best known of them -- on the 2014 installment, and the NYP's brass at their best in its powerful first movement, if you haven't checked out this cycle yet, this is a great place to start.

14. Angela Hewitt

J.S. Bach: The Art of Fugue

(Hyperion)

This Canadian pianist recorded 17 CDs of Bach's keyboard works before finally approaching his monumental The Art of Fugue. It is a difficult work to put across; it's a whole lot of D minor and a whole lot of canons and fugues, which at the least are an acquired taste, though those of us who love Bach have enjoyed acquiring it. Somehow under Hewitt's fingers The Art of Fugue loses the stiffness of academic demonstration and comes alive not as a series of puzzles, but as an ecstatic exploration of cosmic complexity. Her sensitive phrasing, her subtle shadings of timbre, her slight touch of rubato, her rhythmic snap, all combine to make this not just easy to listen to, but absolutely compelling.

15. Jennifer Koh/Shai Wosner

Signs, Games + Messages[Janáček: Sonata for Violin & Piano, JW VII/7; Bartók:Sonata for Violin & Piano No. 1; Kurtág: Tre Pezzi for Violin & Piano, Op. 14e; etc.]

(Cedille)

Though this has a 2013 copyright, I'm pretty sure it arrived in 2014. It's an unusual program; violinist Koh and pianist Wosner only play together on the sonatas and Tre Pezzi. The remaining ten Kurtág pieces are a mix of selections from his sets Signs, Games and Messages for solo violin and Játékok (Games)for solo piano (with a small vocal component on two of those heard here, by Koh if I'm not mistaken). Based on the album title, the emphasis could seem to be on the Kurtág material, but it is the bookending older pieces that dominate by virtue of both size and charisma. Koh and Wosner really brings out the passion of the Janáček, the former with luscious slides between notes, the former with sensitive dynamics, both with Romantic tempo fluctuations and surges. In the more mysterious, even ominous, world of the Bartók, Koh conveys its mercurial moods with a wide range of timbres. Coming between those two masterpieces, the mostly short Kurtág pieces (half under a minute) offer a playful change of pace both stylistically and sonically.

Most Overrated

Seattle Symphony Orchestra/Ludovic Morlot

John Luther Adams: Become Ocean

(Cantaloupe)

Mentioned because it's been showing up on a lot of year-end lists, and was even NPR's #1 classical album of 2014. (That the piece won a Pulitzer Prize I'll ascribe to global warming politics.) I am not averse to Minimalism, and I have enjoyed some of Adams's work in the past, but the main motif here is too trivial for such mighty subject matter. That this 42-minute piece still manages to have an effect is a tribute to his superb sense of orchestration and the rich tones of the SSO, but after 42 minutes of listening to that lame motif burble up and down, I can't help feeling that this piece is merely the "Bolero" of Minimalism.

Steve's Favorite New Classical Albums of 2013

Steve Holtje — Mon, 06 Jan 2014 05:11:17 +0000

Steve's Favorite New Classical Albums of 2013 Steve Holtje January 6, 2014 - 00:11

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

As always, there are biases at play here; my greatest interests are symphonic music, choral music, and piano music, so that's what comes my way most often. There are some paired reviews; the ranking of the second of each pair might not be the true, exact ranking, but it works better from a writing standpoint this way.

1. Brahms: Symphonies Nos. 1-4; Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80 Tragic Overture, Op. 81; Variations on a Theme by Haydn, Op. 56a; 3 Hungarian Dances; 9 Liebeslieder Waltzes; Intermezzi, Op. 116 No. 4 & Op. 117 No. 1

Gewandhausorchester/Riccardo Chailly

(Decca)

It is not easy, at this point in recording history, to match the giants of the baton in a Brahms cycle, but Chailly has done it (this is my fiftieth Brahms cycle, and I have more than another fifty Brahms Firsts, and upwards of thirty each of the other symphonies outside those cycles, so I've got some basis for comparison). Often one must choose between alacrity and clarity, but even as Chailly moves things along at a brisk pace, the Leipzig orchestra plays with such precision that everything remains crystal-clear. Similarly, there is often a tradeoff between precision and expression, but not here. Oh, it's not the effulgent expressiveness of Furtwängler, but it's plenty. And the orchestra's timbres are full and creamy yet still distinct; the winds in particular are colorful (granted, not Eastern European colorful, but far above normal German standards). And while Chailly's tempos are on the quick side, things are plenty charming where appropriate (the inner movements of the Third are especially tender); this is no Toscanini sprint, and Chailly applies some subtle but exquisite rubato. This is a Goldilocks set: just right. And though Chailly fits the four symphonies on two CDs, there's an additional disc anyway, with the usual suspects (Academic Festival Overture, Tragic Overture, Variations on a Theme by Haydn), a few less common (the Hungarian Dances and Liebeslieder Waltzes orchestrations), and some downright rare: the recording premieres of orchestrations of two Intermezzi by Paul Klengel (1854-1935) and, most crucially, the original version of Symphony No. 1's Andante. Chailly makes everything here, even the oh-so-familiar symphonies, sound fresh and new and spontaneous without resorting to gimmicks or eccentricities. Of the cycles of the stereo era, I rank this alongside my favorites by Walter, Sawallisch, Böhm, Kurt Sanderling, Mackerras, Kertesz, slightly ahead of Klemperer and the underrated Ashkenazy and Janowski, and far ahead of Karajan, Solti, etc.

2. Barry Douglas/Lukasz Dlugosz/Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra/Antoni Wit

Penderecki: Piano Concerto "Resurrection"; Concerto for Flute and Chamber Orchestra

(Naxos)

Krzysztof Penderecki's Piano Concerto "Resurrection" (2001-02/revised in 2007) is a work of epic proportions, a whopping ten movements. The pianist here, the great Barry Douglas, premiered the revised version and handles the taxing solo part with aplomb. The piece is wildly colorful and stunningly dramatic (cinematic, even), a great modernist's extension of the Romantic concerto idiom into the 21st century. Conductor Antoni Wit, so crucial to the success of Naxos's Penderecki series, is the perfect collaborator with Douglas. The competition in this edition of the Piano Concerto is also excellent, but costs more for less music, as it lacks a coupling. Here we also get the Flute Concerto, which dates from the previous decade (1992). Although nearly as colorful as its discmate, it has a cooler austerity, and is quite the showcase for Dlugosz's virtuosity.

3. R. Andrew Lee

Dennis Johnson: November

(Irritable Hedgehog, irritablehedgehog.com)

This is a bit of Minimalist history. Obscure (and retired) composer Dennis Johnson's November is the first tonal Minimalist composition, dating from 1959, and as Kyle Gann (to whom we owe its revival and the performing edition Mr. Lee uses) puts it in his liner notes, "November was apparently the first piece to proceed through the repetition of small motives, which is the technique now most commonly associated with minimalism...the first static or repetitive piece to be several hours in length…[and] the first known piece to proceed via additive process.... In short, in November most of the elements we now think of as minimalist appeared all at once." It directly inspired Johnson's college classmate LaMonte Young's iconic The Well-Tuned Piano (absent the tuning difference); it was Young, in fact, who introduced Gann to November via a cassette tape of a 1962 performance by Johnson. And it anticipated the techniques used by Steve Reich and Philip Glass, among others. Historical importance/precedence aside, it is a great listening experience. It has some of the hushed stillness of late-period Morton Feldman, albeit more emphatic at times; at nearly five hours in length in Lee's recording of Gann's reconstruction using the tape and Johnson's notes towards a performing score, it makes use of the words "hypnotic" and "meditative" almost inevitable. All concerned have done us a great service.

4. Latvian Radio Choir/Sigvards Klava

Einojuhani Rautavaara: Missa A Cappella/Sacred Choral Works

(Ondine)

5. Latvian Radio Choir/Sigvards Klava

Rachmaninoff: All-Night Vigil

(Ondine)

The first recording of a major Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928- ) work is newsworthy; when it's a choral work, I start salivating. The 26-minute Missa A Cappella is, as expected, absolutely beautiful and full of interesting harmonies (much like 1940s Britten, e.g. Hymn to St. Cecilia). The premiere came in 2011, soon after its completion, but it was begun in the '70s with the Credo (1972), around which the rest was composed four decades later, not that any such break can be discerned through listening. Very gentle, often undulating, but not without a spine, it seems destined to become a 'standard' in the choir world. The other seven pieces here are more familiar; all but one were already included in Ondine's four-CD Rautavaara choral music box set (compiled last year from previously issued material), but these are different performances and, in a few cases, different arrangements by the composer. The supreme masterwork among them is the Canticum Mariae Virginis (1978), which floats magically in this recording; the Missa duodecanonica (1963), a missa brevis, shows how even when using strict 12-tone technique, Rautavaara's style is undiluted. The Latvian Radio Choir is just about perfect.

It is also a treat to hear them in Rachmaninov (as we already did on their 2010 album of his Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom). The All-Night Vigil, AKA Vespers, is by far the Russian composer's most popular choral work, and there have been a number of excellent recordings of it. Add this one to that list; the choir's blend is positively magical, and conductor Sigvards Klava shapes the music beautifully, without any quirks. A few Russian recordings edge this one out (Tchernouchenko's, Korniev's, and Polyansky's), as the LRC basses don't have quite the heft to match the Russians, but based on blend, good tempos, and excellent recorded sound, I'm ready to call Klava's the best non-Russian recording.

6. Susan Gritton, John Mark Ainsley, Christopher Maltman/Wroclaw Philharmonic Choir/Gabrieli Youth Singers Scheme/Trebles of the Choir of New College Oxford/Gabrieli Consort & Players/Paul McCreesh

Britten: War Requiem

(Signum)

Last year was the centenary of Benjamin Britten's birth, and what with England being one of the last countries with a thriving classical music business, there were plenty of recordings to mark the occasion. Aside from operas, this was the most ambitious; the War Requiem is not only a revered masterwork with a superb recording by the composer that competes with all subsequent renditions, it's also a massive work in scope and performing forces, not easy to coordinate or to make cohere. With conductor Paul McCreesh being an early music conductor of a revisionist bent, I wondered what tricks he might get up to here. To my delight, there are no bizarre interpretive choices, no strange tempos (contrary to my expectations, McCreesh luxuriates in the music for a couple more minutes than Britten). There is just an inspired reading that fully conveys the magic of the work. The soloists are superb; whatever one might say about relative interpretive depth, which actually I have no complaints about, this is a better-sounding and better integrated set of soloists than Britten himself had. With the vastly improved recorded sound and even more precise execution of the musical demands, this is a magnificent achievement. Maybe better than Britten's, maybe not, and certainly a composer-led performance will always have a special aura, but McCreesh and company more than hold their own and on a purely sonic level sound better, no small advantage in the complex textures and rich timbres of this music.

7. Cecilia Bartoli/Nuria Rial/Yetzabel Arias Fernandez/Elena Carzaniga/Franco Fagioli/Daniel Behle/Julian Pregardien/Salvo Vitale/Swiss Radio-Television Choir/I Barocchisti/Diego Fasolis

Steffani: Stabat Mater; etc.

(Decca)

8. I Barocchisti/Diego Fasolis

Steffani: Dances and Overtures from the Operas

(Decca)

Some divas throw their weight around regarding such indulgent trivialities as the green room food, wardrobe, etc. Superstar mezzo-soprano Cecilia Bartoli, on the other hand, uses her power far more productively: she records obscure repertoire and gets the major label she's on to release it. I'll grant you that there are two other recordings of the Stabat Mater of Agostino Steffani (1654-1728) available currently, but they ain't on a major with the distribution reach and promotional clout of Decca, or featuring the star power Bartoli wields so adroitly and benevolently. After starring herself on last year's Steffani project, Mission, she has moved out of the spotlight to varying degrees on the two present Steffani discs. She is, in fact, entirely absent from the Dances and Overtures album, since it is purely instrumental. It's a great deal of fun nonetheless, and recommended to anyone who enjoys late Baroque instrumentals (such as Vivaldi fans). Fully 27 of the 43 tracks are recording premieres; 20 separate operas are heard from. The main focus, though, is of course on the Steffani album with Bartoli. Steffani's Stabat Mater is an excellent piece of its type, full of variety in the combinations of solo voices and choir. Bartoli did not shy away from hiring excellent soloists; bass Salvo Vitale in particular has a big, luscious voice (check out "Vidit suum dulcem Natum"). Of course, Bartoli's dark and vibrant tones are immediately recognizable, but she blends well enough with duet partners and always shines when in the solo spotlight. This album also includes six other sacred choral works, all taken from manuscripts and all recording premieres. They are at the same high level of compositional achievement as the Stabat Mater. All fans of Baroque sacred music should get this album.

9. Emanuel Ax

Variations [Beethoven: "Eroica" Variations, Op. 35; F.J. Haydn: Variations in F minor (Sonata), Hob.XVII:6; R. Schumann: Symphonic Etudes, Op. 13]

(Sony Classical)

The thinking man's pianist delivers again. Rather than playing the "Eroica" Variations for pure flash and coming out gangbusters, he builds it slowly. It gives the set a more profound mien, and the arc created helps make more sense of the aching 14th and 15th Variations, which are deeply affecting in Ax's reading. The way he builds up 15 is a master class in proportion. And when there are virtuoso passages, he's more than up to them. Ax also ruminates through Haydn's innovative double-themed Variations in F minor; his astute understanding of its structure helps him make it especially poignant. In the Schumann, we are more firmly in the realm of virtuoso music, but with slower, more sheerly beautiful movements interspersed. Ax also sprinkles in three of the five additional variations that Brahms included decades after Schumann's death. (Schumann had done some pruning before publication.) Once again, Ax's keen sense of proportion makes for a memorable interpretation, and the tenderness is subtly striking. The CD ends there, but the download also includes Aaron Copland's Piano Variations, taking us into a different century and a different culture. Here Ax's pearly tone pays dividends. Pianists specializing in modern music often have a steely tone that makes this thorny music seem even more forbidding; as played by Ax, this set seems less distant from the 19th century works on the program.

10. Tasmin Little/Howard Shelley/BBC Philharmonic/Edward Gardner

Britten: Concerto for Piano & Orchestra, Op. 13; Concerto for Violin & Orchestra, Op. 15

(Chandos)

More Britten, and it's no surprise coming from the great English label Chandos, which calls on two of its stars for the solo roles. In both pieces we get the revised versions, but the Piano Concerto's original (1938) slow movement is included as a bonus track; dubbed a Recitative and Aria, it seems at times like a refugee movement from a Concerto for Orchestra, what with the prominence of various winds at different times; it also sounds rather Parisian (imagine a cross between Saint-Saens and Poulenc), sparklingly flamboyant, of drastically different character from the more staid rest of the concerto, but it works well as a stand-alone piece and gets a brilliant performance from Shelley and Gardner. Shelley's performance of the revised concerto (1945) must stand, as all do, in the shadow of Sviatoslav Richter's reading for Decca with the composer conducting, but Shelley does pretty well himself with an alternative approach, making the diffuse structure cohere and earning smiles as he fully indulges Britten's cheeky parodies of Romantic concerto tropes (Richter plays them straight). Little has more to work with in the Violin Concerto, which is far more emotive and better-written. She is even more moving than most who've played this, and sounds wonderful as well. She has a big vibrato, but she varies it enough and keeps it tight enough that it never becomes sappy even though effusive. It's a very moving performance that milks it for all it's worth, especially the somberly dramatic finale. In a year chock-full of Britten, this still stands out.

11. Klara Min

Chopin: Mazurkas [Op. 24 Nos. 1-2, 4; Op. 30 Nos. 3-4; Op. 50 No. 3; Op. 56 No. 2; Op. 59 Nos. 1-3; Op. 63 Nos. 2-3; Op. 67 Nos. 2-4; Op. 68 Nos. 2, 4]

(Delos)

This Korean pianist, now residing in New York, approaches these little dance pieces from an unexpected perspective. Rather than emphasizing their dance rhythms and keeping them snappy, which is the norm, she lingers over them, turning each one into a voluptuous self-contained world. Which is not to say her rhythms are lax or flaccid; they're just as pointed as the competition's (check out Op. 50 No. 3). But the slower tempos allow Chopin's luscious harmonies a chance to be more fully apprehended, which is most welcome. One could not get away with converting these pieces into miniature tone poems -- which is what she seems to be doing -- without the most exquisite touch, and she certainly has that in spades, along with a combination of attention to detail and taste that keeps her readings engrossing on repeated listening. The approach is a little too unusual to make this the top recommendation for newcomers to this repertoire (they are of course directed to Arthur Rubinstein's iconic renditions), but this album's sensual charms have exerted a strong pull on me for months.

12. Keller Quartet

Ligeti: String Quartets/Barber Molto Adagio from String Quartet, Op. 11

(ECM New Series)

The first of Ligeti's String Quartets, "Metamorphoses nocturnes," was written in 1953-54, before he fled Hungary's Communist regime. It is an unusually structured quartet in 17 sections; technically it is one movement, but sometimes the breaks between sections are significant, and certainly the contrasts are often stark. Section styles range from Bartokian to harshly bowed swathes of dissonance to mournful elegy to sardonic vernacular bits to hushed nocturnal moments, and more. The Keller Quartet, fellow Hungarians, render the work characterfully, never curbing the astringent passages but also honoring the occasional plush areas, notably the concluding Lento. Then, in an odd but effective programming choice, comes the famous Barber Adagio, but played with a keening tone that makes this the leanest, most eerie version I've heard. I admire the chutzpah, and think it works. (But I can't help but wish that, on a 51-minute CD, they had played the entire Barber Quartet. It wouldn't provide the effect they were looking for with the way they sequenced the pieces, though.) By the time Ligeti wrote his Second Quartet, his music had become much more avant-garde (not that the First is easy listening). It proceeds through a series of musical gestures and textures, varying the material drastically according to contrasts in speed, volume, etc. The psychic turmoil that results (depiction or causation, your choice) is extremely intense. The Kellers' reading is finely nuanced and quite evocative.

13. Delitiæ Musicæ/Marco Longhini

Gesualdo: Madrigals, Books 5 and 6

(Naxos)

You're hip to how innovative Carlo Gesualdo da Venosa (1566-1613) was, right? The wildest harmonies of the Renaissance, allied to agonizing texts of lost love. (Something Carlo knew a little about after finding his wife in bed with another man. After which he naturally, being a prince and all and required to defend his honor, put his sword through them both, death being the ultimate loss.) With this three-disc set, the best complete set of Gesualdo's madrigals is finished. The high quality that has been present throughout the cycle is here as well. We get excellent pitch and blend, supple and highly expressive phrasing and dynamics (without overdoing it), and appropriate milking of Gesualdo's juicy dissonances by all-male quintets (drawing from a pool of seven singers) with two fine (non-hooty) countertenors taking the high parts. Finally the old (1965) Quinetto Vocale Italiano set has been superseded. Complete texts and translations included (hardly a given nowadays).

14. Sequentia

Celestial Hierarchy [Hildegard von Bingen: antiphons and responsories]

(Deutsche Harmonia Mundi)

Another important early music recording project concluded triumphantly in 2013: Sequentia's recordings of the complete music of Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179), a project over thirty years in the making and more than incidentally responsible for the greatly increased interest, in that time, in the "Sibyll of the Rhine." My review is here.

15. Hamburg Philharmonic/Simone Young

Bruckner: Symphony 0

(Oehms)

As I wrote for the Classical Ear app (classicalear.co.uk): "Recordings of this underrated work often seem tentative or merely dutiful, usually foundering immediately on the first movement, which can so easily come off as disjointed. Young seems fully committed to the work's validity and makes the first movement cohere superbly. Rather than going for maximum contrast between thematic sections, she integrates them in terms of both tempo and texture. Young takes the opposite tack in the Scherzo, luxuriating in the softer Trio, though playing the aggressive bits with emphatic force rather than speed. Her tempos, in all four movements, are on the broad side, and the orchestra's rich tone (refulgent brass in particular) and phrasing augment the effect of her conception of the work. It helps that this concert recording offers full-bodied yet detailed and well-balanced SACD sound (stereo/multichannel hybrid). Thanks to Young's more aptly Brucknerian tempo proportions, 'Die Nullte' finally sounds like a work of gravity and stature."

16. La Compagnia del Madrigale

Luca Marenzio: Primo Libro di Madrigali 1580

(Glossa)

Madrigal connoisseurs know that it was Luca Marenzio (c.1553-1599), not peers now more famous, who was considered the top madrigalist of his time (he was an undeniable influence on Monteverdi). He produced a whopping 24 madrigal collections, of which this, in 1580, was the first. La Compagnia del Madrigale is a new group unfamiliar to me, consisting of three male and three female singers. I almost set this disc aside on hearing some ugly sounds, but then I checked the lyrics of "Dolorosi martir, fieri tormenti": "Bitter agonies, fierce torments, harsh traps, cruel snares, rasping chains, whilst I lament my lost love wretchedly." (Luigi Tansillo is the poet, channeling Dante's Inferno.) So there was justification, and it is not overdone. "Dolorosi martir, fieri tormenti" is striking not just for the vocal timbres, but for its dissonant harmonies, advanced for that time. All the madrigals in Book I are for five voices except the last of the 14, an echo piece for two quartets (two additional singers join for that one). After that there is room for the inclusion of works from a multi-composer collection of 1582, Dolci affeti, from which we hear another Marenzio madrigal plus a collaborative Sestina (movements by Nanino, Moscaglia, Marenzio, de Macque, Soriano, and Zoilo). Finally, there is a reconstruction of Marenzio's earliest known madrigal, from a 1577 collection. This is an excellent album recommended to all madrigal fans; I eagerly await further releases from La Compagnia del Madrigale, and dream of a Marenzio cycle from them.

17. Sunhae Im/Christina Roterberg/Bernarda Fink/Marie-Claude Chappuis/Werner Güra (Evangelist)/Topi Lehtipuu/Fabio Trümpy/Johannes Weisser (Christ)/Konstantin Wolff/Arttu Kataja/RIAS Kammerchor/Staats- & Domchor Berlin/Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin/René Jacobs

J.S. Bach: St. Matthew Passion

(Harmonia Mundi)

It's hard to believe it's taken this long for a Jacobs recording of the St. Matthew to appear (well, as a conductor; he's a singer on Herreweghe's first, and Leonhardt's). "Worth the wait" definitely applies here, not least because of the unique perspective of this recording. And that's not metaphorical: this recreates the division of forces as heard at St. Thomas's in Leipzig, with Choir 1 and its accompanying orchestra in front of the congregation and the smaller Choir 2 with its own small orchestra in the back balcony. Even on my normal stereo system, the spaciousness and spatiality of this arrangement comes through; on an SACD system, I imagine the effect is stronger and more realistic. But this recording matters much more than that aspect alone. This is a majestic performance. Some have faulted the period performance movement, which Jacobs is unabashedly a part of, for removing much of the majesty that used to be commonplace in Bach performances; one cannot complain of that with this recording. This is a strongly reverential reading that lingers occasionally, though with enough rhythmic lilt that it never lumbers like some pre-PP recordings did. Nor does Jacobs skimp on other Baroque performance aspects. For instance, in the wonderful bass aria "Mache dich, mein Herze, rein," Wolff ornaments and varies the melody in the da capo section. The soloists are excellent, with many of them familiar from other Bach recordings; Güra is an especially expressive Evangelist. The choir, organist, and period orchestra produce rich tones (no one-on-a-part here), and Jacobs gives us a characterful interpretation.

18. Orchestre de la Suisse Romande/Neeme Jarvi

Raff: Symphony No. 2; Four Shakespeare Preludes

(Chandos)

Prolific but underrated composer Joachim Raff (1822-1882) is little remembered now, but he was a master symphonist, as can be heard on this fine new recording. Fans of Austro-Germanic Romanticism are particularly recommended to give him a listen and take the opportunity to acquaint themselves with this unjustly denigrated contemporary of Brahms. Review here.

19. Trinity Wall Street Choir/Tarab Cello Ensemble/Alarm Will Sound

Caleb Burhans: Evensong

(Cantaloupe)

Burhans (b.1980) is one of the younger generation of composers for whom genre boundaries mean nothing, but based on this collection of seven compositions, call him a Pop-Minimalist. Gestures of Minimalism -- simple harmony, repetitive patterns, motoric rhythms (a little trawl through his press clippings reveals a 2008 New York Times interview in which he talks about his youthful enthusiasm for "Mozart, with those Alberti basses that are almost like the arpeggio sound in Glass," and that in particular pops up again and again here) – serve a more melodic style (unlike most Minimalists [NicoMuhly being the worst], his text settings sound natural and songlike) and include non-classical instrumentation (more than one piece includes a drummer bashing away on a regular rock kit). With his knack for text setting, the choral pieces using liturgical texts – Magnificat, Super FluminaBabylonis, and Nunc Dimittis -- are immensely appealing, positioning him as a younger and hipper Morton Lauridsen (they are sung here by the Trinity Wall Street Choir, of which he is a member -- his day job, so to speak). The instrumental works are also tuneful but in a slower-moving way (whatever the speed of the beat under them), heard on "Oh Ye of Little Faith...(Do You Know Where Your Children Are?)" in particular, suggesting an Americanized/modernized Arvo Pärt. People for whom even Glass and Reich are too much could easily relax into these attractive and relatively short pieces.

20. Maurizio Pollini

Beethoven: Piano Sonatas Nos. 4, 9-11

(Deutsche Grammophon)

Recorded the year (2012) this Italian maestro of the keys turned 70, this is a successful continuation of one of the most slowly accreting Beethoven sonata cycles in history (38 years so far, with another four to go; he's recorded some twice, studio and concert). Pollini is not quite the flawless technician he used to be -- his steely rhythmic precision has gone ever so slightly fuzzy, so some of the busier passages in 4 and 11 are a tad elided -- but his touch and phrasing make Beethoven's lines sound like strings of beautifully shining pearls. And, touch being the aspect of pianistic technique that's too much underappreciated and underutilized nowadays, there is much the most hot-shot young pianists could learn from listening to this album. Equally welcome is that interpretively, there is never an exaggeration nor eccentricity, yet neither is there a rote nor bland moment to be heard. Of course, two of these sonatas (4 and 11) rank among Beethoven's masterpieces. But Pollini gives just as fully of his mastery in the pair of littler sonatas that make up Op. 14. In his hands they seem nobler, yet there is no sense of them being inflated beyond their merits or proper proportions. And proportion is one of the secrets of Pollini's mastery. His tempos seem perfectly judged, with, again, nothing odd straining for attention or novelty. There is a sense of inevitable and utterly graceful (yet smoothly powerful) rightness to the overall direction of these performances, with a warmth and poetry not always present in his earlier Beethoven recordings.

ANNIVERSARIES: John Cage Born 100 Years Ago: A 13-Album Introduction

Steve Holtje — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 06:16:25 +0000

ANNIVERSARIES: John Cage Born 100 Years Ago: A 13-Album Introduction Steve Holtje September 5, 2012 - 02:16

Topics

Music Review

Tags

classical music

John Cage(September 5, 1912 - August 12, 1992) revolutionized music as much as anyone in the 20th century. His first important music was for percussion ensembles, utilizing both homemade and ethnic instruments as well as "found objects." He achieved a breakthrough when he moved this style of composition onto the piano by placing objects between the strings to alter the sound and achieve a more percussive effect. This "prepared piano" style caught the attention of avant-garde tastemakers, and he moved to New York, where his music shocked mainstream audiences and critics.

Cage's study of Buddhism led him to believe that meditative tranquility should be the goal of his music. Since he came to feel that music dictated by taste and subjectivity conflicted with tranquility, in 1951 he started creating pieces with chance operations, using the Chinese oracle I Ching (Book of Changes) and incorporating star maps, spots on paper sheets, etc. Sometimes the musicians decided some matters in performance, while in other works everything from the type of attack to durations and dynamics was written out.

This "aleatoric" approach was Cage's most influential innovation, and in 1952 produced 4'33", a three-section piece (the length of the sections determined by chance operations) in which the pianist doesn't actually play any notes, theoretically leading the audience to experience ambient noise as music. After a brief period of "tape music" (pre-synthesizer electronic music -- his 1952 "Williams Mix" was the first piece composed for electronic tape in the U.S.) and a phase of pieces consisting of a sentence instructing the performer to, for instance, write with pen and paper for a microphone for a specified period of time, he returned to notated music, retaining the time-determined structures by giving the performers their notes and a period of time to play them in but not dictating the rhythm ("time bracket" pieces).

Of my album choices, 1-2 belong in the collections of all music lovers, and 3-9 are pretty much must-haves for anyone interested in Cage. The Wergo and Hat Art CDs are imports, not necessarily easy to track down but well worth the effort. mode is doing a complete edition of John Cage's works, an admirable goal. Fortunately, more of my suggested albums have become available on iTunes since I first wrote this article five years ago, and I suspect that all the Wergo and mode albums might be there but just hard to pinpoint in the iTunes search. And, frankly, any mode performance can be substituted for those on Hat Art in terms of quality, since interpretation isn't much of a factor in Cage performance -- I just prefer Hat Art's programs.

1. The 25-Year Retrospective Concert of the Music of John Cage [Concert for Piano and Orchestra; 6 Short Inventions for 7 Instruments; First Construction in Metal; Imaginary Landscape No. 1; The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs; She Is Asleep; Sonatas and Interludes (first half); Music for Carillon No. 1; Williams Mix]: Manhattan Percussion Ensemble, John Cage, Arline Carmen, Maro Ajemian, David Tudor, etc. (Wergo WER 6247)

This three-disc 1958 concert provides a superb cross-section of Cage's work up to that time and includes Cage as a performer. Two premieres were controversial highlights: the New York premiere of "Williams Mix" drew some boos for its drastic redefinition of music, and Concert for Piano and Orchestra, in its world premiere with the redoubtable Tudor playing piano, provoked an even more negative reaction to its then-shocking extended techniques and microtonality. Six Short Inventions for Seven Instruments, from 1934, uses Serial-related technique. From Cage's percussion period, First Construction in Metal (1939) is for orchestral bells, "thundersheets," prepared piano, 12-gong gamelan, cowbells, Japanese temple gongs, brake drums, anvils, cymbals, muted gongs, water gong, suspended gong, and tam-tam. Imaginary Landscape No. 1 (1942) legendarily foreshadows tape music by using audio research records of constant and variable frequencies, cymbal, and playing inside the piano. "The Wonderful Widow of 18 Springs" adapts text from Finnegan's Wake; the pianist plays percussively on the piano's body. She Is Asleep (1943) combines the Quartet for 12 Tom-Toms and Duo, a vocalise with prepared piano accompaniment. The first half of the Sonatas and Interludes for prepared piano (1946-48) are performed by dedicatee Ajemian. Tudor uses a two-octave electronic carillon for Music for Carillon No. 1 (1952).

2. Sonatas & Interludes for prepared piano: Philipp Vandre (mode 50)

The Sonatas & Interludes, written in 1946-48, are Cage's ultimate prepared piano statement, his most-recorded music, and one of the most important piano collections of the 20th century. These 20 pieces provide an excellent introduction to his oeuvre; it's easy for Cage neophytes to focus on the sonic differences from a regular piano without getting alienated by the randomness of later works. This particular recording was made on a Steinway "O" baby grand piano, the model Cage's measurements for the preparation were made on for the placement of the screws, bolts, nuts, rubber, plastic, and eraser in the strings of the piano, it offers the best approximation of the sounds Cage had in mind while composing these pieces.

3. Atlas Eclipticalis; Concert for Piano and Orchestra: Joseph Kubera; Orchestra of the S.E.M. Ensemble/Petr Kotik (Wergo WER 6216)

Atlas Eclipticalis (1961-62), written using star maps and the I Ching and requiring improvisation, was written for 86 orchestral musicians playing conventional instruments and some percussion, but any combination of the 86 parts can be played if the available forces are smaller, and the overall time is unspecified. It was one of Cage's most notorious and misunderstood aleatoric compositions due to its premiere, when many members of the New York Philharmonic showed utter disdain for this piece that challenged the norms of the Western classical tradition. Rather than following Cage's instructions seriously, they sabotaged the intentions of the music by sarcastically inserting nursery rhyme melodies and scales and by damaging their instruments' contact mikes. Respectful performances such as the one here abjure all triviality and make a considerable impression on open-minded listeners.

4. Ryoanji; Ten; Fourteen: Ives Ensemble (Hat Art CD 6159)

Ryoanji sonically depicts the Ryoanji rock garden in Kyoto, Japan: the chance-determined, sparse percussion represents raked sand; the other instruments represent rocks, their glissando parts shaped by tracings Cage made of 15 stones (the number of rocks in the garden). The 1985 version for flute, trombone and percussion is heard here, the contrasting timbres intriguingly attractive. In Fourteen (1990)and Ten (1991), the instruments are the only fully pre-determined aspect of the music; notes and rhythms are chosen by the musicians within a system of time brackets, the duration of sounds partly determining their volume. Ten uses a microtonal system with 84 pitches in the octave. All three works are calm and meditational.

5. Sixty-Eight; Quartets I-VIII: Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra/Lucas Vis (Hat Art CD 6168)

This CD offers the most meditative, settled Cage. The 1992 number/time-bracket work Sixty-Eight is built from sustained, overlapping notes. No matter how many players perform the calming Quartets I-VIII, it's structured so that only four instruments play at a time. Each sections is based on fragments of a Revolutionary-era hymn tune.

6. Piano Works, vol. 3: The Seasons; ASLSP; Cheap Imitation Stephen Drury (mode 63)

Cheap Imitation is a 1969 solo piano ballet written atop the structural skeleton of Erik Satie's Socrate, with chance operations producing new melodies. With no harmony, it's quite spare, and aptly Satie-esque. The Seasons (1947) has a recursive, mirror-like structure, with movement lengths reflecting rhythms used. ASLSP (1985) was written for a piano competition, but its chance-generated slow melodies in each hand make it atypical competition material.

7. The Perilous Night; Four Walls: Margaret Leng Tan; Joan La Barbara (New Albion NA 037)

These 1944 piano works, completely notated and structured, display Cage the more conventional and emotional -- yet still distinctive -- composer. The Perilous Night is six short prepared piano pieces depicting loneliness. The lengthy Four Walls, for (regular) piano with a vocal interlude, uses silences, repetitions, and just the white keys to portray a disturbed mind.

8. Music of Changes: Herbert Henck (Wergo WER 60099-50)

Music of Changes, a 1951 solo piano work, was Cage's first I Ching-derived piece (the I Ching is also called The Book of Changes). Strictly notated, paradoxically it's random yet organized. Though it requires patience to follow, it's more immediately approachable -- and much shorter -- than the somewhat similar 1974 landmark solo piano collection Etudes Australes, constructed using a star map of the Australian sky and I Ching choices and 10 minutes shy of three hours on Grete Sultan's out-of-print classic reading.

9. Music for Merce Cunningham [Five Stone Wind; Cartridge Music]: David Tudor, Michael Pugliese, Takehisa Kosugi (mode 24)

The controversial 1960 piece Cartridge Music uses contact microphones to amplify the noises of phonograph cartridges in which pipe-cleaners, wires, matches, and other objects have been inserted (not phonograph needles) and played by performers interpreting complex graphic scores, resulting in a wide variety of unusual timbres and micro-rhythms that result to be fascinating. It remains radical for how it addresses Cage's favorite theme of finding music in supposedly non-musical sounds through unbiased, open-minded listening. In Five Stone Wind (1988), Pugliese (clay drums), Kosugi (pizzicato amplified violin, "piezzo tree" for sound transducer, bamboo flute), and Tudor (electronics) use a chance-generated time-bracket score.

10. John Cage at Summerstage: Music for Three; 8 Whiskus; Four[6]: Joan La Barbara, William Winant, Leonard Stein, John Cage (Music & Arts 4875)

This July 23, 1992 in New York City's Central Park has Cage's final performance on the main piece here, the premiere of Four[6]. The four performers choose 12 sounds with "fixed characteristics" and deploy them within flexible time brackets, with each sound a major event. Eight Whiskus (1984) is a series of short solo songs using haiku-like "cut-up" texts (non-language use of words was an increasing interest of Cage's in his later years). Music for Three (1984) is another piece for wordless vocal sounds. 11. Complete String Quartets, Vol. 1: Thirty Pieces for String Quartet; Music for Four: Arditti Quartet (mode 17)

12. Complete String Quartets, Vol. 2: String Quartet in Four Parts; Four (mode 27)

In Cage's revision for the Arditti Quartet of the time-bracket piece Music for Four, the four parts are played independently and players choose note repetitions and silences in most sections. The parts are also independent The Satie-like Thirty Pieces for String Quartet (1983), 30 overlapping solos of variable length. On Volume 2, String Quartet in Four Parts (1949-50) avoids harmonic functions even when using chords, making it unpredictable and deliberately directionless, while Four (1989) is a time-bracket number pieces focusing on held notes.

13. The Choral Works 1: Hymns and Variations for 12 amplified voices; Four²; Living Room Music; ear for Ear (Antiphonies); Four Solos; Five Vocal Group Ars Nova/Tamás Vetö (mode 71)

The meditative affect of Cage's music is greatly enhanced by the sustained, non-percussive sound of multiple singers, so though the works here are generally not major ones, most of them (with the exception of Living Room Music (1940), for percussion and speech quartet) are most enjoyable and accessible. The interlocking held notes of different lengths found in Four² (1990), for four-part chorus, make it an excellent example of this approach, with two realizations included here. Especially interesting is Hymns and Variations for 12 amplified voices (1979), which takes two William Billings hymns (from the 1700s) and subtracts the majority of their notes, largely eliminating any harmonic effect.

Purchase his music thru Amazon