First up, a tempting SACD on the LSO label presenting Rozsa’s Violin Concerto coupled with Bartok’s 2nd, played by one of the LSO’s concertmasters (“leaders”, as the Brits call them), Roman Simovic. While his sound is rich, and he plays with heartfelt expressiveness, these readings are relaxed and easygoing. Indeed one would never guess they are taken from live performances. In the Rozsa, tempos in all three movements are slower than on any other recording of it on my shelves (especially in the 1st movement). And while I admire the beautiful playing, the leisurely tempos really don’t do the piece any favors musically. Even in the finale, after Rattle introduces the Allegro vivace with furiosity, Simovic doesn’t quite sustain the momentum.
Hoping for an improvement in the Bartok, where Simovic is joined by Kevin Edusei on the podium, this is again rather too amiable, predominated by sluggish tempos. And I was immediately put off by Simovic’s propensity for sliding between notes in the opening – which aren’t even true portamentos, but clunky, stuck-half-way-there approximations which sound a bit awkward (and disruptive) to me. If one can listen past that, his richly expressive tone is glorious. But Bartok’s music needs more and doesn’t get it here.
I like this violinist’s tone, but not his playing so much. But that’s just me; I’m sure the LSO loves their “leader” – as well they should. The recorded sound is better than often heard from this source.
Next, I was going to discuss a new Chandos release of orchestral works by Edward MacDowell, but that grew into a full-scale review, so I’ve posted it separately. Instead, I’ll describe another new Chandos release, which also features the BBC Philharmonic, in a disc of ballet music by Roberto Gerhard, conducted by Juanjo Mena. It starts with a ballet suite from Alegrias, made up of 4 short dance sections, featuring the piano prominently in the score for chamber orchestra. It’s rhythmically propelled, but lighthearted and often charming. It is notable for its strong resemblance to deFalla’s Three-Cornered Hat, especially in the 3rd dance, Farruca.
The middle piece, Pedrelliana, is the final movement of a symphony Gerhard wrote in homage to his teacher Felipe Pedrell (who, incidentally, was also deFalla’s teacher). It is pleasant and entertaining, with many varied sections within its 11-minute length. I enjoyed this so much it might be worth seeking out the Chandos recording of the complete symphony, conducted by Bamert.
So far so good then, until the complete ballet, Don Quixote, in its “second version”, which takes up the entirety of the remaining program (nearly 40 minutes). It has a rather checkered past. Gerhard created a ballet suite for chamber orchestra in 1941, then expanded it 6 years later for full orchestra, and then revised yet again for an even larger orchestra (including 2 pianos!), expanding it into five scenes, with interludes and an Epilogue, for its final full ballet version as recorded here. It starts pompously in its opening sections, with some harsh, grandiloquent brass, and I feared the worst. (And I wasn’t wrong.) Though the music soon settles down into more descriptive and colorfully orchestrated storytelling, unfortunately the big, heavy orchestration proves to be a serious detriment throughout – with loud, noisy outbursts replacing real drama. One constantly longs for a sparser, more transparent intimacy in the scoring. While there is some interesting music here, truthfully it’s a bit long and tedious for its thematic content, and a sense of sameness settles in for the duration. As purely orchestral music, it gets to be more than a bit meh before it’s done.
Mena is a wonderful conductor who does his best to get the most out of this music, and draws excellent playing from the BBC Philharmonic. The Chandos recorded sound though, while good, is not up to their usual SACD standards, and could use a good deal more spaciousness – which just might have helped with the pervading heaviness and seriousness in the scoring.
The 3 String Quartets by Ralph Vaughan Williams on CPO seems like an enticing offering. But despite the pleasant, cordial music, these are not the most engaging readings as played here by the Verdi Quartett. It’s almost too much of a good thing, with not quite enough variety to capture the interest for its entirety (78+ minutes). Even splitting them up to hear just one at a time, this was a little meh.
And if you didn’t know VW wrote three string quartets (just #1 and #2 are ever recorded), the extra work included on this CD is an early student work from 1898, played with friends at the Royal College of Music. Even the booklet writer admits this isn’t an accomplished work (and, frankly, doesn’t sound like it). His first published string quartet wasn’t written until 10 years later.
And then there’s Thomas de Hartmann. This Pentatone release proudly features violinist Joshua Bell in a concerto he has latched onto – “he has made it his mission to bring this composer’s music to light”, proclaims the booklet. Apart from the music itself, I admit I was happy (and more than a little relieved) to hear Bell has kept up his violin chops during all his conducting gigs of recent years. And there is no denying he plays marvelously here. And it’s an interesting piece too. Hartmann’s concerto is expansive; it’s laid out in 4 movements (rather than the standard 3), is melodic and tonally pleasing – but ultimately a bit overlong, particularly in the 1st movement, which alone goes on for over 13 minutes. It has many contrasting sections within it, though, and Bell’s gloriously singing violin, along with dynamic orchestral interjections, keeps the listener involved.
The Andante is a very moving, aching lament – the remembrance of war. It too may be perhaps just a bit overlong, but Bell plays his heart out. A very short Menuet (played con sordino) brings a welcome respite before an angry orchestra announces the finale, which is soon taken up by the violin playing folk-inspired dance themes with a distinct Jewish flavor. It’s energetic and entertaining. I can see why Bell would be drawn to this piece. The lyricism of the writing suits his style (and gorgeous tone) beautifully, and that finale would certainly bring an audience to its feet.
The problem is with the coupling. It is a completely different production, recorded two years earlier, with a different orchestra in a different hall. And while the recorded sound is even better, musically, this is quite a challenge. If the violin concerto seemed a bit overlong, the cello concerto declares, “Hold my beer!” The first movement alone goes on for an astonishing, mind-boggling 21 minutes! It opens with a “stately” orchestral introduction, followed by a lengthy, unaccompanied solo cadenza – all before the main theme is even introduced. I lost interest long before it got anywhere close to the end, only to discover there was yet more to come. Two more movements, with another 16 more minutes, still remain. (Yes, this is a cello concerto which lasts nearly 40 minutes.) I’m sure there’s a lot of wonderful music in there, and certainly, cellist Matt Haimovitz plays beautifully, but there’s only so much one can be expected to endure. (I can’t imagine performing this before a live audience.) Even the final rondo is a rather clumsy dance in 5/8-meter which doesn’t lend itself to the cello, much of which is written way up in the treble clef, sounding strained rather than jubilant. Still this disc is almost worth it for the violin concerto and Joshua Bell’s glorious violin playing.
An intriguing pair of unfamiliar Piano Trios from unfamiliar composers, played by an unfamiliar group, Trio Orelon, on a label I really like, Da Vinci Classics, is a recording I will always be attracted to. Nonetheless, I just couldn’t really get into this music by Dora Pejacevic (Croatian) and Amanda Rontgen-Maier (Swedish). I found the former a bit too drawn out for its material (35 minutes in total) in every movement except the delightful, little Scherzo. While the latter just isn’t all that interesting musically. Both works are similarly encumbered by a pervading relentlessness in the scoring, which in both cases lacks sufficient variety of texture, color and dynamic contrast. I can’t fault these wonderful musicians for playing what’s on the page in front of them, though a little more variety in the intensity of their vibrato and dynamics might have been beneficial. Moreover, the close, rather forward recorded perspective tends to exacerbate the imposing nature of it. Nonetheless, this disc is certainly worth exploring for those with an interest in music by female composers – along with this group’s only other recording, of chamber music by Amy Beach.
Now for a couple which are a definitive Nope – starting with Tippett’s Piano Concerto and Symphony #2 with Edward Gardner conducting the London Philharmonic on their own label. Gardner usually has a way of bringing music to life, but even his ebullience can’t make sense out of these pieces. Both come across as very much the same to me: endless little snippets of strung-together notes and uninteresting motifs meandering without direction or purpose. And the piano concerto – good grief, the 1st movement alone goes on like this for 16 minutes! It Simply Would Never End. I was so exasperated by the time it finally quit, I couldn’t bring myself to even begin to endure the 9-minute Molto Lento which follows it. The vivace finale moves along with more notes going nowhere, and some huge pounding chords from the piano.
The Symphony is more of the same – definitely by the same composer with nothing musically significant to say. I simply couldn’t get through it and turned it off. The sound is fine; the playing is fine.
The new (to me) SOMM recording of Kurt Weill’s marvelous 2nd Symphony, coupled with his Concerto for Violin and Wind band, is a great disappointment. (I’m not sure why I just acquired this 2022 release, thinking it was new; maybe I was exploring this conductor.) I started with the concerto, which I have never really cared for, hoping this new recording would change that opinion. It didn’t. In fact, I disliked it even more than usual. Though nothing wrong with Tamas Kocsis’ violin playing, so I might place more of the blame on the conductor, Jac van Steen – which I suppose spoiled whatever good might have been evident in his reading of the Symphony. And indeed, it struck me as being far too mellow and lacking gusto. The first movement is laid back and far from “allegro molto“ (it’s almost 2 minutes longer than most rivals). And where is the irrepressible verve in the finale? Despite fine playing from the Ulster Orchestra and good recorded sound, this is a hard pass. And I will certainly avoid this conductor going forward.
I’ll conclude with an oddity, Paris est une fete (“Paris is a party”). I was enticed by the highly attractive cover on this release, which I literally couldn’t resist. But musically, it’s a bit of a mishmash that doesn’t quite know what it wants to be. Essentially, it’s a chamber orchestra concert of French music, featuring a violin soloist on 2 of its 4 selections. And that’s all fine and good, but the program doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense; the pieces don’t really go together or connect in any logical way. The recorded sound, though, is excellent.
We start with Milhaud’s Le Boeuf sur le toit, in this version orchestrated by Jean Cocteau. (The original is for violin and piano, entitled Cinema-fantaisie.) This recording features violinist Alexandra Soumm in the solo part, whose playing is characterized by an extremely fast, tight vibrato which adds a frantic nervousness to her sound which I found a bit odd. Nevertheless, the piece is brought brilliantly to life in this reading, thanks in large part to the enthusiastic playing of the Pelleas Chamber Orchestra and their terrific conductor, Benjamin Levy. The same goes for Chabrier’s Bourree fantasque in this newly reorchestrated version for chamber orchestra by Thibault Perrine, which is based on sketches left by the composer which apparently indicate he had envisioned this for a small orchestra. I personally don’t hear a big difference from the one usually performed, in the orchestration for full(er) orchestra by Mottl. Nonetheless, it is fresh, vivacious and positively infectious here – taken at a cracking pace.
Unfortunately, the program stops dead in its tracks, musically, and goes downhill from here.
Ravel’s Tzigane is played next in a purported “first recording” of the “Ravel Edition”. According to the booklet, that long opening cadenza has a checkered past, appearing in many different versions – some with cuts, some with additional measures and some altered harmonies. I don’t know how they came up with this “definitive” version (though the booklet tries at length to explain it, which only confused me more), but it sounds pretty much just like what we usually hear – and, if anything, sounds truncated rather than expanded with newly discovered material. This is based solely on casual observation; I didn’t compare it measure-by-measure with the published score because I really don’t care – especially as I wasn’t persuaded by Soumm’s playing of it anyway. It seems a bit overemotive and stretched out, and her fast, nervous vibrato persists, increasing the impassioned intensity rather unnecessarily. And then she’s far too tame when the gypsy-flavored extravaganza really gets going. This needs to wild – but isn’t. I was eager to get it over with as quickly as possible.
The concert concludes inexplicably with Bizet’s perky Symphony in C. I wasn’t at all in the mood for it, and I can’t begin to imagine why anyone thought it was a good idea to include it here on this “party” program. But here it is. It is well-drilled and crisply executed, especially in the 3 fast movements which are played very fast with clinical precision.
OK it’s time to wrap this up. A big box of new releases just arrived from Presto Classical, so I’ve got lots of exciting new things to listen to.
