A great musical partnership

The Complete Beethoven Sonatas for Violin & Piano; Sonatas by Fauré, Franck & Debussy

Here are more classic Beethoven recordings to lead us into the Big Beethoven Year of 2020, the 250th Anniversary of his birthday, on December 17, 1770. The Beethoven sonatas are studio recordings from 1958 and 1961, and it would be hard to find a better-matched duo for this repertoire. When Zino Francescatti and Robert Casadesus swap the lead and support roles at the beginning of the Spring Sonata, op. 24, you're hearing a marvellous musical partnership unfold.



The keynote here is freshness. Though the temperature is rather low, as likely to be measured as fiery, the two musicians always sound spontaneous, and even, when the music allows, joyous.  I was always convinced by their decisions, and swept along by the music. And what lovely music this is! Perhaps the violin sonatas aren't as serious and profound as the string quartet cycle, but my goodness, there are so many felicities in melody and rhythm, and such inventive conversations between the instruments. When you have two such impressive musicians as Francescatti and Casadesus, so intelligent, so sensitive, so lively, you can be sure you're hearing this music as the composer intended.

The three Beethoven CDs sound exceptional, as one would expect, since Holger Siedler, who did the remastering, had fine source tapes to work with. The fourth disc is much more of a mixed bag, sound-wise, though the music and the performances are wonderful. These sonatas by Fauré, Franck and Debussy are live recordings from 1947 to 1956. The bonus disc is much more than just an encore; it makes a perfect album even more impressive!

Two great quartets, plus a potent "trou"

String Quartets by Debussy, Tailleferre, Ravel

The Debussy and Ravel String Quartets have been paired for so long on records - one to a side on LPs, and then side-by-side on CDs - that they begin to resemble each other, like old couples or dogs and masters. Once the two works were matched as twins of the "Impressionist" family, but now the challenge is to differentiate them: each a classic, to be sure, but representing two very different composers. The Stenhammar Quartet clearly contrasts Debussy's whole tone scales with Ravel's Basque-inspired tonality; Debussy's ambiguous rhythms with Ravel's strongly accented folkloric ones; and Debussy's colourful ambiguity with Ravel's precision and clarity. These are two highly characterized works, well-paced, and played with style and wit.

In the serious world of French gastronomy, it's customary to serve a glass of Calvados between courses of an elaborate meal. "Le trou Normand", it's called; the idea is to create a "hole" in the stomach to make room for the delicacies to come. More than a mere palate cleanser, the String Quartet of Germaine Tailleferre is short but as potent as the fiery apple liquor, digging a hole in our musical repast to allow the proper perspective on our two major works. Tailleferre and her colleagues of Les Six inhabit a faster, more modern world than the pre-World War I quartets of their elders, but they are their true heirs. This is clever programming by the Swedish group, with a sparkling performance reinforcing Tailleferre's rising reputation.

True gold, glittering

Berlioz: Les Nuit d'Ete, Ravel: Sheherazde, Debussy orch. John Adams: Le Livre de Baudelaire

When early in his career as a composer Maurice Ravel began to set some poems by Tristan Klingsor, he had the poet "recite his verses repeatedly in order to absorb their rhythms and tone," according to Paul Schiavo's illuminating liner notes to this new release. The result were the three Shéhérazade songs, sung beautifully here by Ian Bostridge, with the Seattle Symphony providing their patented exotic, shimmering, multi-Grammy-winning sound to back him up. Each of the works on this album demonstrate the special bond that music and poetry can share, when geniuses of each genre are matched up at the right time. Schiavo points out that Hector Berlioz's setting of poems by Théophile Gautier as Les nuits d’été was the first important song cycle for voice and orchestra. Bostridge's passionate, suave interpretation along with the support of Ludovic Morlot and his Seattle players, 100% in the groove with this music, helped me overcome a lifelong prejudice against Berlioz. It's hard to imagine a better interpretation of this gorgeous music.

The John Adams orchestral transcriptions of the Debussy settings of poems by Charles Baudelaire are as beautiful as a great painting by John Singer Sargent - The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit in Boston, let's say. In both the music and the painting there are profound meanings that are, paradoxically perhaps, hidden by the surface beauty.

In the words of another artist:

"If you want to know about Andy Warhol, then just look at the surface of my pictures, and there I am."

And John Singer Sargent himself:

"I don't dig beneath the surface for things that don't appear before my own eyes."

Which brings me to one of my favourite quotes, from that great aphorist Hugo von Hofmannsthal:

"Depth must be hidden. Where? On the surface."

The more gold that is mined, the more beautiful the surface seems, from Baudelaire's exquisite verse to Debussy's elegant melodies, to John Adams' sumptuous orchestral harmonies and textures. This true gold glitters most perfectly in this performance: Bostridge's lovely voice with a great American symphony orchestra at the top of its game.

Debussy with fire, wit and a touch of swing

Piano works by Debussy, Faure and Ravel

Under the alternating fires of two spotlights, a very young man, with troubled eyes and flaming hair, was seated before the black mass of a piano. And, alone, confronting a considerable public, delirious or collected, and who filled the vast ship of the room of the Opera of the Champs-Elysees.

This spectacle still besets my memory.

- Henry Malherbe

The very young man was Marius-Francois Gaillard, and he was in the midst of playing the complete piano works of Claude Debussy, spread over three concerts in March 1922. In 1928, 1929 and 1930, French Odéon recorded a significant subset of Gaillard's Debussy, enough to fill a generous CD, and spill over onto a second. This is outstanding playing; though the sound is of course thin and restricted, there is a full palette of tonal colour. Gaillard supplies fire, wit and just a touch of swing, rare in a Debussy performance from any period, but a revelation if you haven't heard this marvellous music played in such a way. This is a recording to listen to while reading Proust, and drinking vintage French champagne, preferably the 1985 Krug Brut, if you have any left in your cellar.



APR Recordings fills the second CD with more marvellous piano playing from the 1930s, by Carmen Guilbert. Recorded by Pathé well after the Gaillard, the sound isn't as life-like, but her playing of Debussy, Faure and Ravel still communicates musicality and authenticity through the hiss and cramped acoustic. Such a fine release!

Beginnings, reconciliation and serenity

Albert Roussel Piano Trio, op. 2; Claude Debussy: Piano Trio no. 1; Gabriel Faure: Piano Trio, op. 120

Back in October 2016 I reviewed the debut Chandos disc from the Neave Trio, American Moments, and loved pretty much everything about it, though I did quibble a bit about the title. These are such talented musicians, and they've put together another fascinating CD program, but at a significantly higher musical level. And this time around the title is just right.

As with the first disc, there's an early work to begin: Albert Roussel's Piano Trio was only his second published work, but it's definitely assured and well-crafted. It may not have the swagger of the child prodigy Erich Wolfgang Korngold's op. 1 Trio, but its opening slow introduction is really quite extraordinary, a slow climb up a mountain through a misty forest. The rest of the work doesn't quite match this atmospheric beginning, but it gets a committed reading from the Trio. Roussel took his time becoming a composer; he was 33 when his op. 2 was published, so you can imagine him as Robert Redford the Rookie in The Natural. Claude Debussy's first Piano Trio is an actual work of juvenilia, though, as he was only 18 when he wrote it. It's rather slight and a bit slick, but it's certainly fun to listen to, and this version has just the right blend of naiveté and prescient irony.

Just like with their first disc, there's a very fine mature work to finish. Gabriel Faure's op. 120 was written only a year before his death, and during a period when he was not in very good health. But it has the reconciliation and serenity that Edward Said calls the "accepted notion" of late style, citing Sophocles, Shakespeare and Verdi. This is powerful, moving music, played with great sentiment but also grace and finesse.

Here's the official trailer video from Chandos.

A picture of greatness

Otto Klemperer: live recordings from the BBC

Here's another release from the great Itter Broadcast Collection, recordings to tape and acetate disc made by Lyrita's Richard Itter from BBC FM transmissions beginning in the mid-1950s. These recording premieres on four CDs show Otto Klemperer, my favourite 20th century conductor, at the peak of his powers. His Mozart should win over all but the most doctrinaire HIPsters. The middle-period A major Symphony K.201 is relaxed and winning, while the late, great G minor Symphony K. 441 is wound up considerably tighter. "Mozart's in the closet," the last movement begins, "Let him out, let him out, let him out!" Klemperer has us worried about the composer's release, and his fine musicians keep up the pressure throughout. Violinist Bronislav Gimpel provides a lovely tone in Mozart's final Violin Concerto, K. 219, weaving through the most perfectly constructed accompaniment. This is the happiest I've felt after listening to a Mozart disc in a long time. Beethoven (no. 2), Schumann (no. 4) and Brahms (no. 2) symphonies are so impressive, but it's the Bruckner 7th that's the real standout here. This is a performance for the ages, from the quiet by-ways to the blazing glory of the slowly building climaxes. This is a picture of greatness, and I couldn't possibly recommend it more highly.

Charlie in a trance

This remarkable 2-CD set of historic recordings is most welcome. These are all remarkable readings by the great Charles Munch, with marvellous singing by excellent choirs and star soloists, and outstanding orchestral playing. The sound is generally good, relative to the recording periods, though there are inevitable issues related especially to broadcast recordings.

For me the stand-out is the Debussy Martyre de Saint Sebastien from 1956, with the Boston Symphony, the New England Conservatory Chorus and soloists Florence Kopleff, Catherine Akos and the late Phyllis Curtin. This is an RCA recording that appeared on a mono Victrola LP, and was later released (in stereo) on a RCA Gold Seal CD, coupled with Iberia. The soloists are really excellent, as is the choir, though the French diction of the American singers has been questioned. Don't ask me about that, by the way. I can tell a really bad French accent - here in Canada we sometimes talk about 'Diefenbaker French', named for the Saskatchewan-based Canadian prime minister in the 1950s and 60s - but the subtleties at this level escape me. Also, Charles Munch himself provides the French narration. This atmospheric addition to the score - it sounds like something out of a classic French movie from the 40s - is a real plus for some. An Amazon reviewer says "Now, whenever I hear this music WITHOUT the haunting voice of Charles Munch, it feels empty." I can relate. I remember the LP with real fondness, and there is a positive nostalgic vibe here for me as well.

Another fine Debussy recording is La Damoiselle Elue, taken from a Boston Symphony broadcast from April 11, 1955, and originally released on West Hill Radio Archives. Again we have fine singers, led by the incomparable Victoria de los Angeles and the Radcliffe Choral Society. And again the amazing Boston Symphony shines. This is gorgeous music, played superbly well.

This recording of Poulenc's Gloria is especially historic; it's the world premiere performance from January 1961, with soprano Adele Addison and the Chorus Pro Musica. After some problems in rehearsal, everything worked out beautifully. Here is Poulenc's report, in a letter to his friend Pierre Bernac (from D. Kern Holoman's excellent 2012 biography Charles Munch):

Monday, 23 January 1961: And so, my dear, for a triumph it was a triumph! You know that because of the snow, the Friday concert was postponed until yesterday, Sunday. Saturday night was OK. Very good, very lovely, success, but Munch less inspired than usual. Yesterday, by contrast, with the critics there, a sublime performance. Charlie in a trance, but careful; the chorus amazing, La Addison unbelievable, and thus ovation on ovation. They told me this morning that the press was excellent. Marlene Dietrich was there: kisses, photos, and all.

Besides making me want to rush down to the library to get books of Poulenc's letters - what a sublime writer! - this makes me feel pretty good about this recording.

The Vaughan Williams 8th Symphony comes from a Tanglewood broadcast, and has previously been released on a Pristine CD. The stereo sound is pretty good, and I hope it's not getting boring for me to praise the interpretation and performance. This is one of my favourite VW symphonies; I like the way he goes all out with interesting orchestration and a non-standard structure. "I feel the thing is a symphony, and it is going to remain one," he said; he felt he had to say, that is, considering the oddness of the music compared with the bulk of his symphonic output. I love the way Munch presents a polished French sound when appropriate, but makes the fabulous Scherzo sound as English as possible. This is such a genial performance! (My goodness: now I'm writing like Poulenc!)

With the 2nd Symphony of Arthur Honegger we come to the first piece with compromised sound. This is from an HMV recording made in 1942 with the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra.  The symphony is a favourite of Munch's; he made recordings for RCA in Boston in 1953, with the Czech Philharmonic in 1957, the Orchestre national de France for Auvidis-Valois in 1964, USSR State Academic Orchestra for Meloydia in 1965, and the Orchestre de Paris for EMI/Angel in 1967. Munch and Honegger had developed a close friendship, and in 1942 were trying, not always successfully, to navigate the problematic politics of living and working in Occupied Paris. Holoman's book is especially good in this period; I recommend it highly!

The album ends with the 1957 RCA (studio) recording of Barber's Adagio. Munch conducted a famous concert which featured this work at Chartres Cathedral during the BSO's European tour in 1952. And it was played by the Boston Symphony at the memorial service held for Munch in Boston on November 14, 1968, conducted by assistant conductor Charles Wilson. I find this version very moving not because it is so expressive - though it is, of course - but because it is so restrained. Charlie is again in a trance - but careful!

Charles Munch (26 September 1891 – 6 November 1968)

Shadowy fancies

What was it—I paused to think—what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth. It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in unruffled luster by the dwelling, and gazed down—but with a shudder even more thrilling than before—upon the remodeled and inverted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows.

Edgar Allan Poe's The Fall of the House of Usher is a perfect story for a one-act opera. The 'particulars of the scene', the 'details of the picture' chosen by a good librettist can stand out from the 'shadowy fancies' of a fine composer. Claude Debussy was his own librettist for Usher, based on Baudelaire's translations of Poe, with mainly positive results. This is a spare but theatrically satisfying scenario. As for the music, Poe's gloomy atmospheres are perfectly communicated by Debussy's shimmering strings, his mysterious woodwinds and muted brass, and the dramatic shaping and shading of the vocal parts. This music is reminiscent of Pelleas et Melisande, and perhaps more so of The Martyrdom of St. Sebastien. Though it was never completed (and sadly never saw a planned Metropolitan Opera premiere), the opera as completed by Robert Orledge contains a significant amount of original music by Debussy. The burlesque counter-piece to Usher, The Devil in the Belfry, however, has much more Orledge, who provides a clever pastiche of Debussy's earlier music and plausibly Debussy-sounding filler to go with the composer's original libretto and an outline of some musical ideas for the project. This is a clever and sprightly entertainment that provides a strong contrast to its gloomier mate. Orledge's fine work has brought us one final masterpiece back from the grave, and a ghost of another as an encore. Both works receive strong performances, recorded live at two performances in December 2013, from Christoph-Mathias Mueller, conducting the Gottinger Symphonie Orchester and an excellent cast of singers headed by the excellent William Dazeley as Roderick Usher, with a vivid cameo from Lin Lin Fan as Lady Madeleine.

Debussy's surgery and radiation treatments for his final illness made the composition of the Poe operas a painful ordeal, and obviously affected the music he was able to finish for both projects:

I have let myself stray and have almost only been working on Roderick Usher and the devil in the belfry. [...] I fall asleep with them and find on waking the gloomy melancholy of the one or the derisive laughter of the other. 

In the end it was as if Debussy had become a character in a Poe story.

I was on the verge – or almost – of completing La Chute de la Maison Usher. The disease has extinguished my hope [...] I find myself having difficulty coping with this turn of fate and I suffer like a damned soul.

This only makes this final music more authentic.

Here is a short promotional film promoting the original performances in Gottingen:

A multi-cultural dance

Adapting a string quartet for string orchestra is analogous to "opening up" a play to make a film. When it's done well both the adapters and the actors can take a lot of credit. Think of Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf. The success of the film is due in equal measure to a great screenplay by Ernest Lehman, great direction by Mike Nichols, and amazing acting by an ensemble of movie stars. We have a similar situation in this fine new disc from Linn Records: one of the great String Quartets, by Debussy, is adapted by Jonathan Morton, and then Morton leads the fine string players of the Scottish Ensemble in a superb performance. Two things are key here: firstly Morton loses none of Debussy's instrumental colour by homogenizing the string lines, and secondly the players are beautifully in sync with each other while still giving that "opened up" feeling. This is a successful adaptation that rewards repeated listening with new insights into the beauty of Debussy's composition and the sound of violins, violas, cellos and basses playing together.

Speaking of film, one of my favourite works for string orchestra is Toru Takemitsu's 1987 work Nostalghia (In Memory of Andrei Tarkovsky). Though Takemitsu wrote a great deal of film score music (including two additional works on this disc), this piece is not from the great film, though it wouldn't be out of place there. Tarkovsky rather used music from works such as Beethoven's 9th Symphony and Verdi's Requiem. It's an amazing film, and Takemitsu's work is a heart-felt hommage.



As to the rest of this album, everything is at this very high level of passionate music making. The alternating Debussy and Takemitsu pieces are a kind of multi-cultural dance where each composer illuminates the other. A triumph from Scotland!

The pain of unending longing

Just as Orpheus’ lyre opened the gates of the underworld, music unlocks for mankind an unknown realm—a world with nothing in common with the surrounding outer world of the senses. Here we abandon definite feelings and surrender to an inexpressible longing....

Only a week ago I was quoting E.T.A. Hoffmann's 1813 essay "Beethoven’s Instrumental
Music", in a review of a fine recording of Hoffmann's Symphony. But E.T.A. is at best only a minor composer; it's really in literature that he made his mark. The Beethoven essay is a landmark of music journalism because of its timing; it was an early appreciation of the cosmic significance of the Fifth Symphony. But the master of fantasy Hoffmann paints such a fantastic picture of why instrumental music is so romantic. Here's where he turns on the big guns:

Glowing rays shoot through the deep night of this realm, and we sense giant shadows surging to and fro, closing in on us until they destroy us, but not the pain of unending longing in which every desire that has risen quickly in joyful tones sinks and expires. 

Fifteen years ago Jane Coop rounded up a first group of especially romantic piano pieces, and CBC Records published it in their Musica Viva series. It's been a popular album since then (as was volume 2), and you can still order it from Amazon as a CD-R or on MP3. But on April 29, 2016, Skylark Music is re-releasing this disc, which is excellent news.

The music Coop has chosen comes from the gods of High Romanticism, Chopin, Schumann, Liszt, Mendelssohn, Brahms; the special god who perfectly distilled Romanticism, Debussy; and a late master who turned Romanticism up to 11, Rachmaninoff. Is there a more perfect piece to express "the pain of unending longing" than Brahms' A major Intermezzo, op. 118, no. 2? Nope; it always breaks my heart!



And is there a more perfect final quote from E.T.A. Hoffmann to end this review by letting everyone know how touched I am by Coop's playing? No, there isn't.

Romantic taste is rare, romantic talent even rarer, and perhaps for this reason there are so few who are able to sweep the lyre with tones that unveil the wonderful realm of the romantic.

Fireworks

Back in September 1999 six musicians from the Kuijken family and a harpist friend took a break from their Baroque and Classical musical diet and recorded most of the important works that Debussy wrote for chamber ensembles: the string quartet of 1893, Syrinx for solo flute from 1913, and the three late sonatas (for cello & piano, violin & piano, and flute, viola & harp). It's just now been released (or re-released) on the Arcana label with a cover that features the amazing Whistler painting Nocturne in Black and Gold - the Falling Rocket, in the Detroit Institute of Arts.

Tom Service wrote a short article in the Guardian back in 2012 which resonates with me today. He warns against the idea of reducing Debussy's music to a pretty "impressionism". Looking back on this music a century later we maybe miss out on how new it was, how revolutionary. From today it perhaps seems easier to see the radical nature of Wagner before Debussy, Stravinsky at the same time, and Schoenberg after him. For Debussy, and this is where there is a real connection with the art-for-art's-sake advocate Whistler, his music was radically about one thing: the music itself. As Service says:

The basic point is that Debussy uses music as thing-in-itself. It's not a metaphor for something else, but an experience in its own right. And with Debussy, those are experiences that music hadn't created before, and are, therefore, experiences that the human imagination hadn't had before.

So how do the Kuijkens present this important subset of Debussy's music? Very well, I'd say, though it doesn't always sound like the Debussy we're used to. The string quartet, which of course has a list of rival recordings a mile long, may not sound as polished or as tightly controlled as some versions, but it has a relaxed charm that escapes even highly-rated performances by other groups. Not that they're using gut strings and cutting back on vibrato, by any means, but the Kuijkens come to this music as something new, and that counts for something. The late sonatas were all written during Debussy's significant health problems which began with his first diagnosis with rectal cancer in 1908. Though there is no decline in quality, this music is stripped down, serious without being morbid. It looks, perhaps, to places Debussy hadn't explored in his life before. This seriousness is well communicated by the musicians. I was especially impressed with the contributions of Piet Kuijken in the two pieces featuring the piano, and his cellist uncle (I believe) Wieland.

Chamber music is a quiet art form, well suited to the family circle. But within its circumscribed limits it can still pack a wallop and and set off rockets. Here is Whistler's entire painting; I think it was well chosen to go with this music.

A fine disc of Debussy for solo instruments & orchestra,

From January 11, 2012:

This is the seventh volume in the very useful Naxos series of the complete orchestral works of Claude Debussy, containing works for solo instrument and orchestra.

The Fantaisie for piano and orchestra is a relatively early work, though Debussy made revisions to it later in his life. We hear the composer's latest version here. It's a slight but appealing work. I like the way Thibaudet swings this music, and Markl keeps things light and frothy and moving ahead.

The other works on the disc represent the mature composer's greatness in creating beautiful and dramatic soundscapes. Though Debussy had to be dragged kicking and screaming into writing a piece for saxophone, you couldn't tell from the Rapsodie that the composer wasn't completely attuned to the sonorities of this instrument, which contributed so much to the special sound of French modernist music. The works featuring the harp and the clarinet similarly present new sounds that would be taken up by generations of composers who made their way to Paris in the 1920s: George Gershwin, Heitor Villa-Lobos, and so many others. With standout solo work by saxophonist Alexandre Doisy, harpist Emmanuel Ceysson, and especially clarinetist Paul Meyer, and strong support from Markl and the musicians of the Orchestre Naqtional de Lyon, this disc is very highly recommended.

Dimitri Mitropoulos's final performance

From June 15, 2011:

Dimitri Mitropoulos's Mahler from his time with the New York Philharmonic was somewhat over-shadowed by his replacement Leonard Bernstein. But Mahler recordings conducted by Mitropoulos from New York and other orchestras are of very high quality. Recordings of the 1st, 5th, 9th, & 10th Symphonies have probably the highest reputation.

Mitropoulos's surviving New York recording of the 3rd Symphony was severely cut to fit into a radio broadcast schedule. Luckily, there exists a recording with the Kolner Rundfunk-Sinfonie-Orchester of a full, live, performance of the 3rd Symphony from October 31, 1960. It definitely trumps the New York recording, and perhaps deserves a place among Mitropoulos's best Mahler. This new disc from ICQ Classics is the first CD release of this performance.

The recording has some significant historic interest, since it represents the very last performance by this great conductor. Mitropoulos suffered a heart attack during the long first movement, and, refusing medical attention, conducted the remainder of the work from a chair. He died three days later, while rehearsing the same work in Milan. I find it very moving to listen to this music, written by someone who lived much of his life with serious illness, and whose preoccupation with death played such an large role in his music.

The Koln orchestra shines in both the Mahler Symphony and Debussy's La Mer, which was recorded a few days before the Mahler, and which nicely fills out the second CD of this set. It's great to have this music available, not only for its historic significance, but for the music itself. This is music that can be appreciated by any Mahlerian, and not just a hard-core Mitropoulitan. The sound is very good: warm and full, with the excitement that comes with the best live recordings. This is very highly recommended!