Peerless Schubert

Franz Peter SCHUBERT (1797-1828)

Piano Trio in B-flat Major, Op. 99, D898 [36:08]

Piano Trio in E-flat Major, Op. 100 D929 [43:29]

Wu Han (piano)

Philip Setzer (violin)

David Finckel (cello)

Recorded at the American Academy of Arts and Letters, New York, April, 2008.

ARTIST LED 10802-2 [79:37]

There has been quite a bit of apocalyptic talk in the press of late about the demise of the major classical recording labels. For those hell-bent on nostalgia, this is a bad thing, but in the grand scheme of things, the (rumored) death of big labels like Decca and the über-consolidation of companies like RCA and Sony, coupled with the relative ease and low cost of producing recordings, might just leave the paths clear for artists to produce their own material on their own terms. I see little but good in such a scheme.

Some years ago cellist David Finckel and pianist Wu Han and friends founded just such an independent label, Artist Led. Every aspect of the process of making and marketing a recording is left completely to the artists, giving them the freedom to choose their repertoire, oversee the engineering and mastering process and design the packaging and promotion material. What has resulted is a small but impressive catalogue of recordings of mainly standard repertoire. The quality of the playing and production has been consistently high, and this present issue is no exception.

Philip Setzer and David Finckel of Emerson String Quartet fame are joined by Finckel’s pianist wife Wu Han to perform these two late masterpieces from Schubert. Given that the publishers assigned them consecutive opus numbers, they have been looked upon over the years as musical twins. Yet, there are striking differences between the two works; the B-flat trio being mostly sunshine and the E-flat more serious and stormy, just to mention the obvious. Composed very near the time of Beethoven’s death in 1827, Schubert took his task very seriously indeed, trying and succeeding to produce works with the depth and scope of Beethoven’s Archduke and Ghost trios.

Opus 99 begins with a rollicking and joyous Allegro, notable for its catchy tunefulness and its well worked-out construction. Given Schubert’s tendency to run on a bit in longer-form works, this movement could have been an indication of a new maturity in Schubert’s writing, a maturity which alas was cut short by his untimely death in 1828. The lyrical Andante is as winsome as any song that Schubert produced. The tunes are simply sublime, and the lovely forays into the minor mode are breathtakingly elegant. The jaunty Scherzo is a fitting contrast to the lush second movement, and the work ends with a virtuosic rondo.

The Opus 100 trio was of significant importance to the composer. It received its first performance in December of 1827 and was performed again as the centerpiece of an all-Schubert concert given in Vienna on 26 March, 1828, the anniversary of Beethoven’s death. The concert was a watershed for the young composer, who alas did not live to enjoy the would-be fruits of its success. Grander and more serious than the Op. 99 trio, the opening movement, although rhythmic and in a major key, very quickly turns serious and takes very little time to start exploring the minor mode and other somewhat distant key centers. The brooding second movement is almost funereal with its constant pulsing, march-like rhythm. The scherzo is a bit more light hearted but still retains a bit of minor key gloom. Perhaps it is safe to say that Schubert was trying very hard in this work to make an artistic statement, and thus while it certainly contains music of great beauty, the beauty is there to make a point, to express ideas and not simply to entertain.

These are artists who obviously know each other inside and out. Their ensemble is so finely tuned that one could almost believe there was one person playing all three parts at once. Of particular merit is Wu Han’s ultra clear pianism, marked by dozens of shades of nuance and color, and by clarity of execution that falls like crystals on the ear. Finckel and Setzer, who for years now have made music together, perform like twins, bringing off some splendid duets, particularly notable in the Op. 99 scherzo. I was moved by the contrast of tone and musical “attitude” for lack of a better word that the players displayed between the two works. There is the same clarity and attention to detail, but it is palpable that these musicians have gotten inside Schubert’s head and are channeling his intentions to a modern audience.

The recorded sound is quite warm and handsomely balanced and worth special notice here. We are never overpowered even in the loudest passages. Although recorded in a fairly sizeable room, the sound is intimate and close and gives the illusion that the musicians are right in your living room playing for your personal enjoyment.

James MacMillan Channels Britten in Some Interesting New Music

James MacMILLAN (b. 1959)

Three Interludes from “The Sacrifice” (2007) [14:28]

Quickening (1998) [45:37]

The Hilliard Ensemble

City of Birmingham Symphony Youth Chorus

City of Birmingham Symphony Chorus

BBC Philharmonic

Simon Halsey, chorus master

James MacMillan

Recorded in Studio 7, New Broadcasting House, Manchester, 3 March 2007 and 22 February, 2008.

CHANDOS SACD CHSA 5072

James MacMillan has met with a good deal of international success, and for good reason: he’s one of the rare composers who actually takes the time to write music of substance and structure, devoid of the episodic blips, bleeps and snarls that make much modern music fall somewhere between boring and unbearable. Couple this with a dramatic flair not seen since Benjamin Britten and a fine knack for choosing good texts and meaty subject matter, and you get some winsome art indeed.

If these three interludes from MacMillan’s 2007 Opera The Sacrifice are any indication of the quality of the whole work, then we have something indeed to look forward to, and should encourage Chandos to release a recording of the complete opera. MacMillan is obviously influenced by Britten, and these interludes, although quite original, do bear the handprint of the Sea Interludes from Peter Grimes in the way that they conjure up such a picturesque atmosphere. Colorful orchestrations and rich, pungent sonorities make this music gripping from the start. Concise and well constructed, the listener’s attention is grabbed from the get-go and held until the end. Of particular merit is the brilliant Pasacaglia. It is nice to see a modern composer mastering such an ancient form while still making it his own.

The 1998 cantata Quickening is scored for very large forces, and is clearly modeled structurally on Britten’s War Requiem. The subject is childbirth, perhaps more accurately conception, and was inspired by the recent fatherhood of both composer and librettist. The texts are exceptionally well crafted, but I would caution first listeners to sit down with words in hand as the thick orchestral textures and large choral forces make the text a bit difficult to understand on first hearing, despite the CBSO Chorus’ excellent enunciation.

MacMillan uses his available sound palette to full effect here. His use of unusual percussion instruments adds a layer of the exotic that nicely punctuates the rather mysterious and wonderful nature of the subject at hand.

It is often said that composers do not always make the best interpreters of their own music, but in this case it is safe to say that MacMillan’s ideas for execution are as solid as his ideas for composition. He leads performances here that are dramatically well paced, and he has chosen outstanding forces. The magnificent CBSO Youth Chorus deserves special mention for their haunting virtuosity.

Quickening is a work that may take more than a single hearing to sink in, but it is well worth the effort. MacMillan has something significant to say, and he says it eloquently. Whether this work will find a permanent place in the repertoire remains to be seen, but this performance is an introduction that bodes well for the future.

An Interesting Collection of Debussy's Orchestral Music

Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918)

Pelléas et Mélisande (Symphonie, arr. Marius Constant) [25:05]
Clair de lune (orch. André Caplet) [4:34]
Nocturnes [25:26]
Berceuse héroique [4:55]
Trios Etudes (orch. Michael Jarrell, 1991) [13:31]

Orchestre National de Lyon
MDR Radio Choir, Leipzig
Jun Märkl

Recorded at the Auditorium de Lyons, France, 15-20 July 2007, 15-19 January 2008, and 11-12 February 2008.

NAXOS 8.570993 [74:09]

Three fine orchestrators give us a most welcome addition to the near-perfect output of Claude Debussy with these well-crafted arrangements of music from the opera Pelléas et Mélisande, and of four piano works, one ubiquitous and three slightly more obscure. Throw in the popular Nocturnes, and the lesser heard Berceuse, and you get over an hour of delicious listening.

Debussy’s only opera, a dreamy medieval tale of love, betrayal and tragedy, sees far too little daylight really. This is perhaps in part to its general lack of catchy tunes and the tendency of French texts to be extremely wordy. It does, nonetheless, possess page upon page of lusciously gorgeous music, particularly for the orchestra. Rumanian composer Marius Constant has taken a sizeable portion of Debussy’s thematic material to create this Symphonie, an engaging work, full of rhapsodic gestures and subtle harmonies. Mr. Constant is a more than capable orchestrator, but it is always difficult to put yourself into another composer’s head, and as such, we still miss a tad of Debussy’s remarkable originality. The music however is lush and lovely and it is a good thing to hear some of Debussy’s ideas in this form.

Little need be said about Claire de lune. Its beauty speaks for itself. Caplet’s orchestration is sensitive and colorful and does nothing to detract from the original.

The centerpiece is the Nocturnes. These masterpieces of orchestration were originally intended as solo violin works for Eugene Ysaye, but Debussy later decided that the orchestra was their preferred home. Thanks be to God! Jun Märkl leads well paced and finely balanced performances here and the Lyon orchestra obviously knows its way around the literature. One might have wanted a bit more shimmer from the strings, but in all this is an excellent reading. Few recordings top the stunning readings by Pierre Boulez and the Cleveland Orchestra or Charles Dutoit and the Montreal band in the music of Debussy and Ravel, but Märkl leads quite acceptable performances. The women of the MDR Radio Choir of Leipzig deserve a special mention for their hauntingly beautiful wordless singing in Sirens.

The disc is filled out with the Berceuse Héroique, a seldom heard little gem, and three selections from Debussy’s homage to Chopin, the Twelve Etudes for piano, deftly orchestrated by Michael Jarrell. These arrangements work quite well indeed and successfully bring out some interesting colors in the harmony that might be missed in the piano versions. They are a fitting ending to an interesting collection of works. This disc is well worth the effort.

Some Robust Brahms

Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)

Piano Trio No. 1 in B, Op. 8 (1854, revised 1889) [36:34]

Piano Trio No. 2 in C, Op. 87 (1882) [28:46]

Bonus DVD contains the Scherzo from Op. 8

Storioni Trio

Bart van de Roer, piano

Wouter Vossen, violin

Mark Vossen, ‘cello

Recorded December 2007 and April 2008 in the Concertboerjdenj Valthemond, the Netherlands.

PENTATONE HYBRID MULTICHANNEL SACD [64:09]

It seems as though Brahms had a knack for getting things right the first time. Regardless of the genre, whether it be the symphonies, serenades, violin sonatas or string sextets (to name a few), Brahms manages to be at his most original and expressive in his first attempts. Such is certainly the case with his first piano trio, which although it was substantially revised decades after its original composition, still comes through as a masterpiece of melodic contour, harmonic complexity and form.

First published in 1854, the B major trio is reminiscent of Beethoven’s monumental Archduke in its size and scope. The fifteen-plus minute opening movement contains one of Brahms most sweeping and gorgeous melodies; a tune that is worked through masterfully and completely during the course of the movement. The lively scherzo is a fittingly uplifting contrast to the autumnal melancholy of the first movement. Very few moments in music can match the serenity of the Adagio, and the work is rounded out by a lively and virtuosic ending.

The Storionis approach this music symphonically, painting with wide brushes and in bold colors. They achieve a meaty and robust sound that although at times can be quite thrillingly large, is never overpowering. They play with a rich, warm tone that works particularly well with the deeply sonorous writing of the first movement. They are also quite able to lighten up, as evidenced by the rollicking tempi of the Scherzo and final Allegro.

Although considered by many to be one of Brahms’ finest pieces of chamber music, the Second trio, composed decades after the first, seems more academic to these ears. Indeed there are the grand melodies, the elegant counterpoint and the signature play between the inner voices, but with the exception of the lovely second movement, this trio lacks the warmth and reflective nature of the first.

Again we get an outstanding performance from the Storionis, big bold phrases and superb ensemble. One does notice however the occasional audible sniff and snort from the players, a habit that many instrumentalists insist is necessary for musicality and ensemble, but in reality is an annoying bit of snooty showmanship best left in the practice studio.

Pentatone’s SACD sound is magnificent. There are however a couple of problems, one small and one large. First there’s a glaring misprint on page two of the booklet that errantly identifies Op. 87 as Trio number three. Secondly, the bonus DVD is in PAL format, rendering it useless outside of Europe, a rather inexcusable oversight.

A Wimpy Faure

Gabriel FAURÉ (1845-1924)

Requiem, Op. 48 (1893) [36:01]
Cantique de Jean Racine, Op. 11 (1863-1864) [5:18]

Sandrine Piau, soprano
Stéphane Degout, baritone

Accentus
Members of the National Orchestra of France
Laurence Equilbey, conductor

Recorded in the Basilica de Saint-Cothilde, Paris, France, January 2008.

NAÏVE V5137 [41:21]

Laurence Equilbey has made great progress in the last few years at improving the quality of choral singing in France. She has even started her own institute to train young singers for future careers in professional choirs. For this she is to be greatly admired, as even just ten years ago, the standards for choirs there were disappointingly low.

It is a bit disheartening then that we get a rather run of the mill performance of two war horses in this all too brief recording by Accentus and friends. Fauré’s simple and reverent Requiem mass gets performed and recorded rather often and seldom particularly well. Ms. Equilbey gets a fine tone from her chorus, but the recording seems to mask the choir’s sound a bit and we never get to hear a completely resonant production, despite the fine building in which the recording was made. There is certainly nothing wrong with the blend or intonation, but overall, the performance was rather uninspired and seemed to be approached as more of an obligation than a pleasure. Tempos are right on though, and it is a relief to hear this work stripped of the dirge-ishness that some conductors apply to what are some of the most beautifully written vocal lines in choral music.

Fine soloists, particularly baritone Stéphane Degout, whose warm rich and clear tone sails over the orchestra in the Libera me, and is achingly beautiful in the Hostias, give this performance some added bonus points. Sandrine Piau has a fine clear soprano, but her reading of the Pie Jesu is a little too thin and reedy.

The disc is sort of filled out with a nice reading of the popular Cantique de Jean Racine, the only French piece in the repertoires of many English speaking choirs!

What is left to be understood is why Naïve would issue a forty-one minute disc when there are so many other appropriate works that could have been added. Another performance of Duruflé’s Requiem or motets wouldn’t hurt anyone now would it? Because of its short duration and the above mentioned qualms, this disc is sadly relegated to the also-rans. Stick with Robert Shaw’s stunning performances of this and the Duruflé masses on Telarc if you want the best bang for your buck.

Kevin Sutton

Some Brilliant Flute Playing

Georg Philipp TELEMANN (1681-1767)

Twelve Fantasias for Flute

Fantasia 1 in A [3:16]

Fantasia 2 in a minor [5:01]

Fantasia 3 in b minor [3:43]

Fantasia 4 in B-flat [3:19]

Fantasia 5 in C [3:53]

Fantasia 6 in D [5:59]

Fantasia 7 in D [5:02]

Fantasia 8 in e minor [3:53]

Fantasia 9 in E [5:39]

Fantasia 10 in f-sharp minor [4:49]

Fantasia 11 in G [3:27]

Fantasia 12 in g minor [5:21]

Jed Wentz, (baroque flute)

No recording dates or locations are given on the disc.

BRILLIANT 93440

A number of composers have written works for the solo flute sans accompaniment, but very few of these pieces reach the high levels of quality and creativity that were achieved by Telemann in his twelve solo fantasias. Like most baroque instrumental pieces, these works are based on dance forms with the occasional freewheeling prelude thrown in for good measure. That Telemann was able to create music that sounds polyphonic for an instrument incapable of playing more than one note at a time is perfectly amazing.

The boldness of this music can also be a bit of a surprise. But if one comes to understand that in the seventeenth century the flute was seen as a manly instrument, capable of expressing a wide range of emotions, the vividness of these pieces makes perfect sense.

Jed Wentz certainly blows the dust off the scores as he romps through these twelve little masterpieces with enough panache and showmanship to put Liberace to shame. Almost daring in his rhythmic liberties, Wentz’ audacity turns into sheer delight very quickly. The energy with which he plays conjures up aural images of full orchestras and consorts. Slower movements almost ache with passion. Compared to Barthold Kuijken’s graceful gentility and Jean-Pierre Rampal’s phoned in performances, Wentz seems to have found the heart of these works, and dared to make them his very own.

In his charming program note, Wentz almost apologizes for his interpretations, but then turns around and says in so many words that he plays the music the way he feels it, convention be damned. Would that more early music types could shed their fear of disobeying a treatise and dare to make music from the soul.

At Brilliant Classics’ super budget price this disc is a steal. It is indeed one of the most ear-catching and imaginative performances that I have come across this year and will merit much repeated listening.