I really enjoyed John Wilson’s 2022 Rach 3 (much more than his Rach 2), finding his straightforward, no-nonsense approach worked quite well in that piece. So I was really looking forward to hearing what he would do with the 1st Symphony. After such a long wait for it, I decided to start with the coupled Symphonic Dances, which are pretty straightforward (musically) and ought to suit John Wilson’s temperament perfectly. With high expectations, I deliberately left the score up in the closet, wanting to just sit back and enjoy the music, and let the terrific Sinfonia of London work their magic. But that didn’t last long. This reading soon established itself to be so different from the norm, I had to consult the score to ascertain what Wilson was seeing that no one else has (which I suspected was absolutely nothing). And don’t for a minute think I hadn’t already noticed on the CD back cover the notation that this was “Edited by John Wilson” - just as he did with Ravel’s Daphnis and Chloe a couple years ago. So red flags were already waving wildly.
 
His approach isn’t bad; it’s just…different. But not necessarily in a good way. Immediately (and all through the piece) we hear a simple unfolding of the notes on the page with a rather cold detachment so typical of John Wilson when playing “serious” Classical music. (And we heard it affecting his earlier recording of the 2nd Symphony as well - disastrously so.)
 
After completely inaudible pizzicatos at the very beginning, a simple opening gets underway at a nicely moving non Allegro. But the Lento tempo indication for the saxophone solo is inexplicably ignored, as is the molto espressivo marking. Compared to every recording I can remember, this is very quick indeed, rendering the arpeggiated noodling in the oboe, flute and clarinet frivolous and musically nonsensical, and the sax less expressive than usual. (Why in his “editing” of the score would Wilson disregard an important tempo marking like this?) But when the 1st violins and cellos take up the tune, it becomes a bit more impassioned. But not much - until the 2nds and violas join in a few bars later, when he pours on some passion at last, finally taking note of one of the many molto espressivo indications for the first time.
 
Not intending to dissect every measure of the score, I put it down at this point and just listened as it continued on uneventfully. And after an uneventful climax, the movement ends simply, almost with resignation.

Before I move on, I must touch on the “uneventfulness” of what I’m hearing - especially the uncharacteristically restrained ff passages. Several times I observed a curious “smallness” to the sound of the orchestra on this recording. It doesn’t sound like there are as many strings as usual in this group. This is evident not only in the crisp, dry articulation of rhythmic passages, but a lack of richness to their body of sound. And the recording is not as dynamic as usual from this source. The brass lack immediacy and sheer power, confined to the very back of the hall. This is odd; dynamics are typically a hallmark of this orchestra, expanding effortlessly into the big, spacious cathedral they record in for Chandos. But that is somewhat curtailed here in music which demands it. As a matter of fact, I occasionally thought this sounds almost more like chamber music than a big symphonic piece - which doesn't seem quite right.
 
The 2nd movement is lightweight and quick - typical of Wilson’s “let’s just get through this and on to something more exciting to me” manner of recording with this orchestra. They play with such effortless perfection, he seems content to just let them do their thing. (I recently heard a quote of him saying, “I sometimes tell them ‘Just go with it.’”)
 
After a tepid brass introduction, there is a brief violin solo with a curiously fast, tight, almost nervous vibrato. It is followed by an exquisite English Horn, sounding all the more ravishing after the thin violin, before a smallish-sounding string section takes up the tune with matter-of-fact simplicity and little regard for the espressivo indication. As it gets going, the music lilts just enough to establish the waltz element, but sounds a bit contrived and not entirely spontaneous; thus it doesn’t really dance. I do like the quickness of the tempo, but Wilson's leaden stiffness inhibits any inherent ardor, as he determinedly hurries through it to get to the finale. Even those little tenuto marks in the meno mosso (just before Fig 42) go for naught, barely even acknowledged in his haste. And I constantly long for more richness, tonal color and heartfelt passion from the strings.1 
 
Now for the finale, surely he’ll turn up the power. Hardly. It’s lightweight from the get-go, and as the Allegro vivace takes off, it is curiously delicate. Even the passage of pesante downbows in the strings a couple minutes into it (just before Fig 57), marked ff with an 8th rest following each, are played looooong bows, without the pauses between them, and missing the sharp attack of bow on string. (The strings continue to sound uncharacteristically small-scale.) Later (at Fig 78), those aching violin/viola lines marked lamentoso (along with hairpin crescendo/diminuendos) go by without much notice, or barely any emotion. And the cellos immediately following, marked ff, are exasperatingly timid - barely mf. Wilson just hurries along to get to the next vivace, without much involvement or concern for detail. (“Just go with it.”) And that actually describes this entire reading - it just progresses along without much involvement or musical interest. Even as we approach the finish-line, those fanfare-like proclamations on the brass aren’t anywhere near ff, let alone triumphant, as Wilson inexplicably keeps holding them back. (And I fear with utter dread he's going to do the same thing in the finale of the Symphony.) But I like that he executes the tam-tam part at the end exactly as written.2
 
I go into such scrupulous detail because these things are musically important, and illustrate where Wilson diverges from the score. And one wonders what prompted him to undertake a new “edit” of this particular score in the first place. (The booklet makes no mention whatever of it.) But I do wish he’d stop it. For just as in his earlier Daphnis and Chloe, I hear a preoccupation with the notes at the expense of the music. As I indicated earlier, this isn’t bad. It just has no soul. (Well, now that I think about it, I guess that is bad.) I came away thinking this sounds much more British than Russian. And in Rachmaninoff, that can’t be good.
 
I was hesitant to listen to the Symphony after this. And right off the bat, in the upbeat to the very 1st measure, I was dismayed to hear the horns playing that opening triplet along with the woodwinds. Tsk, tsk. (I know, I know - almost everyone does it, but as Wilson claims to be a musical scholar, editing his own scores, I would expect a little more faithfulness to the printed page from him.) But at least there is some power to it. However, there could be more bite to the bow-on-string downbows in the strings. They’re loud enough and heavy enough, but are a bit thick rather than incisive. And at the Allegro ma non troppo, where is the articulation to the staccato 8th notes? I realize they’re marked pp, but we have to hear them. (Plus there’s nowhere left to go in ppp passages.) The violins sing with loveliness at the moderato after Fig 3, and at that first fff passage, they literally scream (almost screech - ee gads!) with startling forcefulness (surely assisted by a rather brazen boost of the volume knob in the control room). But they could use more voluptuousness to their vibrato to support it.
 
I really like the fugue at the Allegro vivace, taken at quite a clip. Wilson was just waiting to let it fly - and it does just that. And the strings have a nice sheen to them. But a few bars in, I again miss weight to the violins in those triple-stops just before Fig 7. But never mind, I’m enjoying this. And I’m happy the brass are finally delivering some real power - though I am noting a bit of congestion in the acoustic as things really get going. This movement continues on satisfactorily, building to a fine climax at the end.
 
Wilson makes a nice little Scherzo out of the second movement, scrupulously observing every little detail. It’s not that beneficial musically bringing everything out like this, but it’s sure fun to follow the score with. It’s light, gossamer and effortless.
 
In the 3rd movement, a simple clarinet announces the Larghetto, while Wilson ensures we’re aware of the little triplet motifs in the violas. (And to be fair, they’re marked f, as opposed to the clarinet’s p, so that’s pretty interesting.) As we progress, I miss some creaminess to the con sordino string sound (the violins actually sound a little thin here), but there is some heartfelt emotion to it. The central Largo is very nicely done, with some real drama, and the lower strings finally assert themselves with authority. I could use a bit more freedom of expression in the various woodwind solos along the way, as Wilson insists on keeping it rather simple. But it works well enough.
 
And now the big finale. The trumpets step up and seem happy with themselves, and there is a sense of triumph to that opening - though I continue to hear a bit of congestion. (And is that a touch of overload distortion on the low brass?) And at the moto primo, the strings finally bring it. They’re only marked f here, but they produce more sound (and muscle) than I’ve heard from them anywhere else thus far, and they're much more incisive on all those accents. Now that's more like it! And they deliver some real passion at the con anima just before Fig 48 - at a true fortissimo. Nice! (Dynamics are nicely observed all through this passage.) Unfortunately, it kind of goes on autopilot through the entire Allegro mosso (Fig 51-56), which isn't as engaging, interesting or atmospheric as it should be. ("Just go with it.")
 
As the final peroration approaches, a sense of anticipation begins to build as the Allegro con fuoco takes off. But we definitely need more sheer fuoco from the cellos - specifically in the sfs, which cry out for more muscle from the bow than they receive. (Why are the low strings consistently so anemic in this recording?) The entire ending is actually very good, as Wilson generates real momentum and a good amount of drama. And I am relieved the final section is not too ponderous and not too slow - which is good! (It is marked con moto.) And the strings produce some real strength here. But damn! - the timpani in the last 5 bars are WAY back there, slightly muffled in the reverberation. (I realize, physically, they really are way back there; but surely we can expect a little more sheer power from ff kettle drums at the ultimate climax - especially from a recording.)3 Nevertheless, Wilson is better here than I was expecting, bringing a real sense of grandeur (even a touch of pageantry), and overall I am pretty happy with it. 

However, spot checking a few other recordings for quick comparisons (Askenazy, Nezet-Seguin and Statkin's Detroit remake) proved enlightening. While the recorded sound is a notable difference in all 3, I was instantly drawn into the music (and the musicmaking) in a way that I wasn't with Wilson. All three conductors demonstrate an inspired, impassioned outpouring of music - with a natural ebb-and-flow of dynamics, rubato and emotional involvement in striking contrast to Wilson, further illustrating just how reserved and musically detached he is (in both works). And it became clear to me what I'm hearing from him. Quite simply, he follows the score rather than his heart.
 
And finally, the recorded sound. This program is transferred to disc at a very low volume level - particularly by Chandos standards. And the orchestra is set back at more of a distance than usual. (I had to turn up the volume several notches higher than normal to get any kind of impact.) This isn’t the characteristic house sound - upfront, robust and effortlessly dynamic - we typically hear from them. And I wonder why. (And I wonder if that has contributed to the slight congestion I keep hearing.) I have always maintained that Chandos' spectacular recorded sound is as important to the success of John Wilson as his conducting. And when Chandos doesn't deliver, Wilson simply falls flat. (Witness his Daphnis and Chloe a couple years ago.) And I think that's largely what has happened here. Chandos has made many recordings of this orchestra in this hall which sound pretty spectacular (with the notable exception of that Daphnis and Chloe). What happened this time? 
 
So what to make of this. The Symphony is actually pretty good, but certainly not a first choice for repeated listening (musically or sonically). It can't match the very best recordings, such as those from Ashkenazy/Concertgebouw for Decca (which unbelievably, is over 40 years old now), Yannick Nezet-Seguin in Philadelphia on DG, or best of all, Edo De Waart and the Radio Philharmonic Orchestra of Holland on a spectacular Exton SACD. Even the classic 1966 Ormandy is still pretty awesome to this day. As for Symphonic Dances, well just about any other recording you could name is preferable to this one.

In the end, I sure hope Chandos fixes whatever isn't quite right here before continuing with their current Walton series. I'm really hoping they intend to record his two Symphonies, and I really want them to be good. 

1 This just doesn’t sound settled. (Even more so than the 1st movement). And I think back to an interview John Wilson did with BBC Music magazine several years ago (right after his recording of the Korngold Symphony) in which he stated with great pride that “this orchestra can sightread anything!” And that’s exactly what this sounds like they’re doing here. Sightreading.

2 Wilson plays the controversial tam-tam crashes at the end correctly - exactly as written (and exactly as I would do it were I conducting it.) He strictly observes the note values and, more importantly, the rests notated for the tam-tam in the score. The popular thinking of many conductors these days is that the laisser vibrer (“let it vibrate”) indication should apply to the entirety of those final 3 measures - and even beyond, after the piece has ended. I personally have never agreed with that, and find no justification for it when studying the score. Letting it ring for an eternity at the very end is just absurd (and cannot possibly be what Rachmaninoff had in mind). I firmly believe the laisser vibrer literally applies to just the one measure (the 1st) where it appears, where Rachmaninoff writes a dotted half-note for the tam-tam while the rest of the orchestra has short 8th-notes followed by 8th-rests. So he wants the tam-tam to ring through that measure. Thereafter, one must adhere to the note-lengths and rests as written. That just makes sense musically and it makes sense technically as dictated by the score. I realize Wilson is not the first conductor to observe this, but it does go against the current (and inexplicably popular) trend - so hats off to Wilson for executing this properly.

3 I had the same complaint about Yannick Nezet-Sequin's otherwise superlative 2019 Philadelphia recording for DG - though to be fair, that was recorded at a live concert. ​

I have really enjoyed Domingo Hindoyan's recordings of less familiar, less over-recorded repertoire. His discs of French ballet music, the music of Roberto Sierra, and “Venezuela!” were really terrific. But then Onyx released his Bruckner 4, and now Tchaikovsky 6. And I just wonder why. Is this music he excels at? Are they filling in missing gaps in the Onyx catalog? Or, more likely, is Onyx just releasing everything Hindoyan conducts to capitalize on his current popularity and sell lots of CDs? Whatever the reason, does anyone need (or want) another Bruckner 4 or Tchaikovsky 6, unless there’s something really, really special about them? I haven’t heard the Bruckner, so can’t say if it’s anything special, but this "live" Tchaik 6 (from 2021) is definitely not special - particularly when you factor in the recorded sound.
 
So let’s start with what IS special - the coupled Souvenir de Florence, which comes first on the CD. This, of course, is the transcription for string orchestra of the original string sextet. And what better way to show off Hindoyan’s magnificent string section! And in many ways, I think it works better than the original, and I actually like it better. And it’s for a simple reason, really. A full section of strings doesn’t have to work as hard as a string sextet does to produce the full-bodied sound required to do full justice to Tchaikovsky’s many ff markings, where the music simply demands a full orchestral sound. A sextet tends to saw away at it trying to sound larger than they are. And too often it can sound forced, aggressive, or unmusical - or even worse, a combination of all three. That certainly never happens here in Hindoyan’s competent hands. His strings are absolutely, positively glorious. 

Not only does he inspire them to play their hearts out, he himself sounds thoroughly inspired by the very essence of the music. The first movement, Allegro con spirito, is spirited indeed - lilting most delightfully (practically dancing!) - lifted aloft with a joyously impassioned, yet effortless, expressiveness. This opening can sometimes sound terribly heavy when played by a sextet, with an intensity which becomes too assertive, starting off with those rolled quadruple-stops. But not here. It’s a vibrant, rich, effortlessly full-bodied sound, with a delectable, airy transparency to the textures. And there’s a silkiness too (especially in the violins) that only massed strings can produce. It’s the opposite of what we often hear from a sextet when they’re working too hard at it.
 
Even in the Adagio, there is a sweet, airy silkiness to the violin lines over delicate pizzicato 2nds and violas beneath them. Not weighed down with too much passion, even at its most impassioned moments, there is a simple, singing expressiveness which is enchanting. The Allegretto (with a gorgeous viola solo by the way), is again airy and transparent, pensive yet lifted aloft without heaviness.
 
The finale isn’t quite as vivace as I was expecting, but dynamics are expertly contrasted (which isn’t always possible at breakneck speed). And Hindoyan manages to find, and highlight, some wonderful duet passages - with separated violins in harmony, together and sometimes with violas or cellos an octave below. It’s lyrical and charming in a way not easy to describe. It actually sounds like chamber music. That’s precisely it - chamber music - just as originally conceived. Every minute variation of dynamics, tonal colors, and speed and intensity of vibrato is instantaneously produced in response to direction from the podium - played as one, with complete unanimity from the entire ensemble.
 
Hindoyan even finds a bit of gravitas there in the more passionate central section, exploiting the richness and body of tone that only a full string section can produce. And as the momentum and bustling athleticism increase, the music never turns helter-skelter (as can so often happen); Hindoyan keeps firm control over his players, not allowing them to rush it. But there’s certainly no lack of excitement - the ending is as thrilling as you’ll ever hear it.

I have never been so moved or captivated by this piece before. Hindoyan reveals it to be one of Tchaikovsky's true masterpieces - perhaps even more so than his more famous Serenade for Strings.
 
After this, I was reluctant to move on to the 6th Symphony which follows immediately on the next track. It just felt strange - that pianissimo, sorrowful bassoon coming right after the invigorating finale of Souvenir. But that’s the way they programmed it. And it wouldn’t have been any better the other way around. So maybe - just a thought here - maybe these weren’t the most logical or ideal disc mates. (For more reasons than one.) So grudgingly onward I went. And sadly, it can’t begin to measure up.
 
After a nicely flowing introductory Adagio, I soon began to notice the recorded sound is a bit gray and lackluster compared to Souvenir. And as the music (and volume level) heats up, I hear the acoustic is a bit stuffy, and the dynamics a bit compressed. And curiously, it’s a string-forward sound (which becomes even more apparent in the final two movements).
 
Aside from that, right from the first Allegro, it’s clear this is going to be a rather lightweight reading. And that impression continues in the statement of the main Andante theme, which is simple and flowing, rather than pensive or enriched with a touch of fervor. Then the major climactic section which follows is devoid of histrionics, lacking even some essential melodrama. We hear a thick, string-forward sound, constrained somewhat by a cramped acoustic and compressed dynamics. And the brass, at their first entrance, already sound tired - or even intimidated (perhaps after years of Petrenko's propensity for buttoned-down, well-mannered refinement). And the recorded balance doesn’t help, which recesses them way back behind the strings.

The Allegro con grazia is unremarkable - gracious and elegant, at a nicely flowing tempo. Equally unremarkable is the molto vivace. It’s well played, but not nearly as exhilarating as I was hoping from this energizing conductor. Hindoyan keeps firm control over the proceedings, generating a fair amount of triumph in the second half's ff march sections, but curiously not much jubilance. And again I'm bothered by the unnatural, string-heavy balance. While it’s interesting to hear them scurrying around with such clarity and focus, how I wish the brass would open up with some real power! And again, the engineer is largely to blame in favoring the strings so prominently with the microphones, which all but precludes the brass from making a thrilling impact no matter how loud they play. (Same with the bass drum.) I begin to wonder if this was originally recorded for a radio broadcast.

The finale is somewhat better. The strings at last give us some passion, while Hindoyan keeps things simple and moving forward without weighing it down too much. And just as things are getting good, the first big climax arrives only to find the brass MIA. Again. It’s as if they’re off in an entirely different room. And the strings continue to produce a flat, rough-hewn wall of coarse-textured sound. Despite this, it's is a moving performance of this movement. It's a pity the artificiality of the recording is such a constant distraction. 
 
Perplexed by the pronounced disparity in musical involvement and (especially) recorded sound between the two recordings on this CD, I turn to the booklet and immediately find an explanation. The Symphony was recorded at a live concert back in 2021, just after Hindoyan became the RLPO’s chief conductor. (This may actually have been the first concert of their inaugural season.) And the performance sounds like the orchestra and conductor are still getting acquainted and not entirely comfortable together yet. And one wonders why this overplayed, overfamiliar Tchaikovsky warhorse was chosen for this concert. I suppose it drew in a big crowd to welcome their new conductor. So I get that. But, given the mediocre recorded sound, why did Onyx then resurrect it 4 years later as coupling for a wonderful new recording of Souvenir de Florence? (One wonders what else was on that 2024 program along with Souvenir, and why Onyx didn’t give us that instead?)

I also noted that Souvenir was recorded in a different venue than their usual Liverpool Philharmonic Hall (where the symphony was played). For unknown reasons, it was recorded at the Tung Auditorium, Yoko Ono Lennon Center. How odd. But the acoustic there is marvelous, allowing Onyx to produce one of the best-sounding recordings I’ve ever heard from the label. Maybe they'll record them there more often.
 
In the end, the recorded sound is a major contributing factor in the overall satisfaction and disappointment of this release. Maybe the audience who attended that 2021 concert of the 6th Symphony will be happy to have it memorialized on CD. But for the rest of us, it’s irritating that Onyx has underhandedly stuck it in there alongside a brand new recording - a fact which is not revealed to the unsuspecting buyer except in the recording details inside the booklet.

This CD plays for an astonishing 82 minutes, which is impressive, so it’s up to each of us to decide whether just 38 minutes of it is good enough to justify the cost of this disc. As I have found myself humming all those glorious tunes in Souvenir literally for days afterwards, I suppose for me it is. And I suppose it’s also interesting to hear what Hindoyan has accomplished with this orchestra in just 3 years (a "before" and "after" example, if you will). He has matured as a conductor and built this orchestra into one of real stature. And subsequent recordings demonstrate how much the Onyx engineers have improved at recording them in their own hall since that 2021 concert. So there’s that too.

Naxos has previously released another recording of Fazil Say’s music for violin featuring violinist Friedemann Eichhorn, which included his 2 fantastic Sonatas for Violin and Piano and his more familiar (and somewhat more oft recorded) 1st Violin Concerto, “1001 Nights in the Harem”. This new release presents his new 2nd Violin Concerto (2020), an even newer String Sextet (2022), a Sonata for Solo Violin (2020) and his earlier String Quartet of 2010.
 
I started with the String Quartet, which interested me the most. It is the only work on this CD not denoted as a world premiere recording, but after an exhaustive search, I can’t find any previous recordings of it. There are several live performances of it on YouTube (with variable quality), and even an interesting transcription of it for string orchestra, but no commercial CD release that I can find. So I’m curious about that. In any event, this new Naxos CD becomes even more invaluable, as this work is quite remarkable.
 
My first impression when listening to it, however, was the rather strange recorded sound. The quartet sounds like they’re set back within an empty, bathtubby acoustic (which actually sounds rather like a high school gymnasium), but closely mic’d by the engineers to bring them forward in an effort to mitigate the cavernous reverberation. Very strange indeed. It’s not terrible, but not up to the usual high standards we have come to expect from Naxos. I read in the booklet it was recorded in an old, palace castle in Ettersburg, Germany, and one wonders under what circumstances the decision was made to record it there, of all places. Fortunately the rest of the program was recorded elsewhere, and the sound improves commensurately.
 
But never mind, I soon forgot all about the acoustic as the music grabbed my attention and never let go. The Quartet is subtitled “Divorce” - and that proved interesting, because this music is often angry, as if the players are arguing back and forth with one another. And reading the composer’s brief note in the booklet confirms that is exactly what Say is trying to portray in this music. The piece represents his personal experience with divorce, separation and failure of a relationship - presumably corresponding to each of the 3 movements.
 
The opening Allegro maestoso establishes the mood immediately. It is stark and sounds irritated (if not quite angry yet), played with sharp, incisive, stabbing bowing and a deliberate coldness - with no vibrato except on the occasional climactic note, with dizzying speed for maximum effect. Oh yes, it’s cold. Icy even. (The soundtrack from the movie Death Becomes Her comes instantly to mind.) The Andante is less agitated, but still quite chilly - with harmonics and very little vibrato emphasizing the lack of warmth - as if one is receiving (or giving) the cold shoulder treatment. Then, ingeniously, a bit of vibrancy sneaks into the violin solo - just barely a shimmer at first - above the icy atmosphere. Soon a 2nd violin joins with a touch more vibrato still, then the viola too, with even more pronounced vibrato yet - all over an incessant, menacing pizzicato cello accompaniment. And amazingly, just when it seems we’re becoming on friendlier terms, it instead begins to boil with angst - the vibrato tightens and increases into a frantic speed, intensifying into tremolos and sul-pont scratchings. (One wonders if this is notated in the score to be played like this, or has the Gropius Quartett envisioned and executed it this way?)
 
And the presto breaks out angrily with agitated, rhythmic propulsion and furious string flurries, as if the players are bickering amongst themselves. And amid the squabble, I couldn't help but smile with amusement at the vivid and realistic portrayal of what I imagine is happening in the storyline. After much screeching and shrieking (especially from the violins), the piece ends as it began, with a recapitulation of the main theme from the 1st movement. And I take pause here and consider (once again) what a great composer Fazil Say is, and what a great piece this is. And marvel at the fantastic playing of the Gropius Quartett.
 
Eager for more, I venture onward to his String Sextet, “Leopards”, where Say adds an additional viola and cello to the quartet. It is rather similar in style, with transparent, almost stark scoring and incisive articulated passages. The recording here sounds much more natural and atmospheric than in the Quartet, with a realism which enhances the vivid characterization.
 
This is a pretty amazing work. It’s even more rhythmic than the Quartet, and incorporates more innovative string techniques (such as snap-pizzicato and some screeching portamentos way up in the highest registers, for example), and even some percussive effects, such as banging knuckles on the wooden body of the cellos. This lends a bit of the feel of a safari - which Say states he personally experienced and was the inspiration for the work. But the effects are never excessive or hackneyed; Say is a consummate composer and it’s tastefully incorporated into the music - absolutely effective in depicting the wildness of nature, leopards in particular.
 
After all the driving rhythmic energy (and glissando sighing, again sul-pont) of the opening few minutes (which is, incidentally, marked Allegro assai energico, "extremely rhythmical"), there is an abrupt pause, followed by more atmospheric knocking on the cellos. Then a really eerie, otherworldly melody (sort of) emerges. What is that? - a violin playing legato col legno (with the wood side of the bow)? It sounds very much like what George Crumb specifies for that awesomely weird little violin tune in the “Sounds of Bones and Flutes” in Black Angels. But Eichhorn adds frantic vibrato to it, with ghostly effect. Soon, some not-so-subtle cat growls from sul-pont cellos and some frightened bird screeches way up high in the violins create an even creepier atmosphere. Even as a foreboding tune appears in the violas, there is a constant, nightmarish atmosphere going on everywhere around it - growls, shrieks, glissandos - and persistent pounding rhythms depicting a trek through the safari, surrounded by unknown wildness. This effect intensifies into some truly terrifying music, as if now running away.
 
And all of this is done by just 6 string instruments! (I’d love to see the score for this one day.) It really is ingenious, and totally effective. And the playing of it here is dazzling.
 
Anxious to continue the expedition into the next section (marked merely “II”), the atmosphere is quiet, ominous, and apprehensive, as if in hiding. And then suddenly running again in a hectic flurry of rhythmic agitation and furious, bustling passagework - becoming heavy with dread, punctuated by sharply incisive, muscular bowing. (Shostakovich comes to mind here.) And then, just as suddenly, the tension subsides with soft knuckles on the cellos retreating into the distance, before a final snap-pizz ends it.
 
Effective - certainly. Impressive - most definitely. And after this, I needed a break. I mean, how do you follow a musical depiction of a safari adventure being chased by leopards?
 
The next day I eased back into it with the Sonata for solo violin. The booklet explains this was originally written for viola, but has been transcribed and played here by our featured violinist on this album. I have to say I was disappointed it wasn’t played on viola, especially as the opening Largo is described as a lament. But the Allegro assai second movement has jazz/blues elements, and even a touch of hoe-down fiddling here and there, which certainly lends itself well to the violin. It would be fascinating to compare this to the viola version someday.
 
Say's chamber music is so good - so vividly descriptive and imaginative (and brilliantly scored) - I was hesitant to go back to what I skipped over and listen to his new violin concerto, which curiously appears first on the CD. (I personally think the program should have started simply with the solo Sonata, then increased the number of players as it goes - the Quartet next, then the Sextet, closing with the Concerto with full orchestra. But that’s just me.) But forge ahead I did. And it’s funny how often a hunch can be spot on. Sure enough, the concerto can’t quite equal the chamber music on this album, or even (especially) his first violin concerto over a decade earlier (2007).
 
The 1st movement (Allegro ma non troppo) starts promisingly with a bit of that exotic temperament which permeates his 1st Concerto. It eventually takes off in a more rhythmically energetic direction not unlike the chamber music on this program. In the middle, there is a substantial cadenza which incorporates some avant-garde playing techniques and effects, brilliantly played by Eichhorn. The short Dance movement which follows is very different. Described as “fast jazz swing”, Say transports us to happy hour at an intimate jazz club. It’s very fun but perhaps a bit out of place surrounded by more serious atmospheres - particularly as it lasts but 2 minutes. Then there is the Andantino tranquillo, quasi meditazione. True to its descriptor, it meanders somewhat aimlessly as if in a daze, or perhaps a drunken stupor after a night in the blues club. Eichhorn's playing is very impressive here, especially his creamy, legato double-stopped passages and ecstatic melodies soaring up into the highest register. But it ends up going on just a bit too long for its content (at over 6 minutes).
 
So when the finale, "Barren Skies", arrives (another Allegro ma non troppo), I was more than ready for something different (but not “jazzy” different) - perhaps with some demanding virtuosity from the soloist and fireworks from the orchestra. But Say doesn’t give it to us. Instead he seems intent upon trying to recreate the intoxicating atmosphere and mesmerizing rhythmic insistence of his 1st Concerto, without quite succeeding. It begins somewhat similarly to the opening, but curiously, the entire 2nd half of the movement, over 4 minutes, consists of just the solo violin playing a delirious lament, as if drifting off into slumber (or perhaps passing out) under the setting sun. And the piece simply ends, almost imperceptibly, fading away into nothingness.
 
This new concerto isn’t as ingenious or uniquely original as his 1st - nor is it as interesting or compelling. I wish it was more different than similar, but it is worth hearing nonetheless. I can hear why it didn’t come last on the program though; it doesn’t really leave a lasting impression. But it’s expertly performed here by our soloist (who really is a superb player) and Eschenbach is ever reliable on the podium (though the orchestral contribution is fairly minimal). The recorded sound from Naxos is excellent.

All in all, this is another splendid disc of original music by Fazil Say. I'm more and more impressed with his compositional prowess every time I encounter it. 

I’ve seen several YouTube videos of live concerts from this orchestra and their new Russian conductor, Stanislav Kochanovsky. He’s certainly a Russian-music specialist, as demonstrated there and on this debut album. But I have to say, it’s the recorded sound which has impressed me the most on this recording. I’ve not heard such good orchestral sound reproduction on my system in a long time. I typically love the characteristic upfront, dynamic Chandos house sound, and I get so used to hearing its consistent excellence that I often find other labels lagging behind in technical accomplishment. But harmonia mundi (yes, harmonia mundi!) has outdone most of them. They present the orchestra at a slight distance (mid-hall as opposed to front row, as is typical of Chandos), cushioned on air in a lush, spacious acoustic - yet revealing plenty of inner detail and crisp articulation. It’s natural, realistic and very satisfying. 

Not only is this Kochanovsky’s debut on record, it's also the NDR Radiophilharmonie’s debut on the harmonia mundi label. And while I have heard this orchestra before on CPO and Pentatone, I’ve never heard them sound like this.
 
So this disc is worth hearing for the beautiful recorded sound, but it really would all be for naught if the performances weren’t equally good. And are they ever. (Well, mostly.) Not only musically from the podium, but the orchestral playing itself. One can instantly hear this orchestra adores their new conductor; this isn't your routine, anonymous, efficient sound so often heard from too many orchestras today. For instance, just listen to the vibrancy in their soft playing, which is stunning. It’s not impassive or just soft to be soft - it’s alive! (And, yes, it’s definitely soft too.) And I would be remiss in not pointing out, specifically, how fabulous the strings of this orchestra are - their fervent singing lines potent with ardor. And I’m not sure if it’s the hall or the mastery of the engineer (or both), but it sounds like there are hundreds of violins soaring heavenward. This string section actually reminds me of Domingo Hindoyan’s Royal Liverpool Philharmonic strings, who sing just as rapturously under his direction. I dwell on this because it is so rare to hear - not only from the orchestral playing, but from the recorded sound as produced on a good stereo system. And I might point out that this isn’t even SACD; this is good old fashioned CD - proving once again the medium is alive and well, and when done right, can still produce some of the finest recorded sound of a symphony orchestra.
 
The opening piece by Tcherepnin (the daddy, Nikolai, who was a pupil of Rimsky-Korsakov) is a glorious thing, and makes a wonderful concert opener. It was written in 1899 as a prelude to a play, La Princesse lointaine, and sounds a lot like Tchaikovsky - a bit less passionate, but possessing rhapsodic melodies throughout. And it’s here where Kochanovsky’s strings first make a strong impression there in the central section - those melodic lines singing with an almost operatic fervor, building to an overwhelming climax. I was so moved, I could easily imagine Marilyn Horn singing it. And the magnificent recording, with its glorious portrayal of an airy, spacious acoustic, surrounding the strings with air, even in the midrange, presents the orchestra with a palpable realism - transporting the listener to the best seat in the house.
 
This Prelude has been recorded before, most notably by Pletnev and the Russian National Orchestra on a 1994 DG album entitled “The Enchanted Kingdom”. Harmonia mundi’s alluring sound is even more colorful and atmospheric than DG’s, allowing Kochanovsky to make an even more memorable and convincing case for it.
 
I was pleased to see Tchaikovsky’s Third Suite on this program. It’s quite challenging, and was rather daring of Kochanovsky to start off with this one. (And I do hope he intends to record the other 3 as well.) Even though the 4th movement Theme and Variations is often performed independently, that’s the least interesting bit for me. I absolutely adore the opening Elegie, and never more so than here in Kochanovsky’s hands, as he immerses us in the glories of one of Tchaikovsky’s most achingly heartfelt and beautiful Andante cantabiles. Cantabile for sure, but with a natural, free-flowing tempo, Kochanovsky luxuriates in the rhapsodic melodies, lush harmonies and glittering orchestration. And the orchestra plays their hearts out for him, just as they did before in the Tcherepnin.

The tempo is perfectly judged in the Valse too, which moves along with enough forward momentum to make it danceable, while fully illuminating the melancolique indication. And that presto Scherzo which follows is tricky - not only in the extremely demanding woodwind writing (all that triple-tonguing!), but its rhythmic intricacy is very difficult to come together without sounding clunky or clumsy. All those fast repeated notes passed around from section to section, measure by measure, must be handed off seamlessly and gracefully without the slightest hesitation or change in volume. It’s extremely difficult to bring off. And to be fair, the NDR Radiophilharmonie isn’t quite perfect or as effortless as the very best version ever recorded - that unbelievable, incredibly thrilling one from Vladimir Jurowski and the Russian National Orchestra on Pentatone (2006), or Jarvi in Detroit (1995 Chandos), who comes very close to it. But this is very well executed with a sense of spontaneity as if in a live concert.

Kochanovsky does the final Theme and Variations as well as anyone, generating plenty of drama and momentum as it goes - culminating in a triumphant conclusion, aided by majestic recorded sound. Yes, it could be even more dynamic and overtly exciting, but musically this is very satisfying.

My admiration for this conductor was tempered somewhat by the coupling. Sandwiched in the middle there is the ubiquitous Capriccio espagnol - which isn’t exactly a great fit with the impassioned music on either side of it. But I understand why it’s there - to entice collectors into buying this CD. (Even the marketing blurb on the back cover touts it first and foremost.) Few will be drawn to a disc of Tchaikovsky’s 3rd Suite and relatively unknown Tcherepnin. So if the Rimsky-Korsakov helps generate some sales, then I’m all for it. However, I admit I wasn’t at all in the mood for it (especially after listening to the wonderful Tchaikovsky). So I saved it for another day and came back to it later, hoping Kochanovsky would knock my socks off with it.
 
He didn’t.

In fact, it’s rather leisurely and surprisingly low-key, almost as if Kochanovsky was trying to tone down its exuberance to better match the music on either side of it. Even the brass fanfares and the solo passages there in the central section (violin, flute, clarinet) are drawn out and played with "feeling” rather than flair (yawn.) And thereafter, there isn't much verve or panache in the festivities. Even the final rush to the finish isn't much of a rush; it's "let's just get this over with" in its efficiency. Whatever the reason, it was perhaps ill-advised, as anyone buying this disc primarily for Capriccio Espagnol will likely be disappointed with it - and consequently, with this conductor. 
 
So Kochanovsky isn’t the most exciting conductor to appear; and that's OK. The rest of his program is so good, the Rimsky doesn’t really matter. I mean, realistically, who needs (or even wants) another Capriccio Espagnol? I just wish he had chosen something else instead - something more appropriate for the program and better suited to his temperament. Tchaikovsky’s 4th Orchestral Suite comes immediately to mind, which would have just fit on the CD without the Rimsky-Korsakov there, and would have been infinitely more desirable and rewarding.
 
Nonetheless, this is a splendid disc - gorgeously played and recorded. I don't think I've ever been more impressed with a recording from this label.

​This release, aptly titled “A Duke Moment”, spotlights music originating from Duke University. The Ciompi Quartet, comprised of professors at Duke, play an interesting program of new and recent works for string quartet by composers in residence at Duke. The program is a bit variable, but the disc is interesting, enterprising and superbly recorded.
 
The first two pieces are similar in flavor, based on various American styles such as blues, jazz, ragtime etc. The first one of them is a significant work, highly accomplished and much more substantial than the second. While the final work is completely different - almost a saxophone concerto of sorts which doesn't necessarily quite fit in on a string quartet program featuring the Ciompi Quartet. (More on this when we get there.)
 
Stephen Jaffe’s 3rd String Quartet (2014) is entertaining and filled with charm from beginning to end. The piece is comprised of 7 fairly short sections - the shortest just 45 seconds; the longest just over 7 minutes. The opening Prelude is coy, almost flirtatious, inviting one to come in and listen. And the rich blend of the Ciompi Quartet keeps us there, immersed in the music in anticipation of what will come next. The pace quickens and soon gives way to a delightful Scherzo, dancing with little hints of jazz here and there. Ribbons is bustling and gossamer, with lovely singing lines above the gently insistent rhythmic propulsion. Night Blues, at just over 7 minutes, is the most substantial and varied, with a nice bluesy feel. While the Postlude is reminiscent of the opening, but soon breaks into a lyrical central section, almost a chorale, before coming to a humble, rather wistful close.
 
This is highly creative and imaginative, enormously well-crafted, and superbly orchestrated without ever resorting to gimmickry (which has become far too common these days). There are several modern-day contemporary composers I can think of who could (should) learn a thing or two from Mr. Jaffe! This piece is a model of creative musical composition - inspired and imaginative - which can stand firmly on its own merit without the need for endless exploitation of sounds masquerading as music. (I find new music which continually exhibits the composer’s infatuation with inventing new ways of making noise from string instruments as a substitute for real musical creativity just so tiresome.) Jaffe is a master of the miniature for sure. Each of these sections is a real gem - concise and perfectly complete in its brevity - combining to make a pleasing and satisfactory whole. He's also a master at tunefulness, adding to its appeal. This is an important addition to the string quartet repertoire, excellent even among some of the best new String Quartets I’ve heard recently. And I hope it gains favor with groups everywhere. 
 
Incidentally, the Ciompi Quartet also recorded Jaffe's 1st String Quartet (though with a different 1st violin and cellist) way back in 1991, on an album of American string quartet music for Albany Records. It is nothing like this newer work. It is rather more substantial than the 3rd, and more determined and decidedly more avant-garde in its structure and deliberate avoidance of tonality. His 2nd Quartet, written over a decade later, and recorded by the Borromeo String Quartet for Bridge Records in 2022, veers away from the formulaic modernism of his 1st, showing the composer maturing into a more inspired, creative, and more distinguished, distinctive voice - which begins to look forward to the more alluring (and approachable) appeal of his 3rd without going that far. It really is a masterpiece which deserves to be better known.
  
Anthony M. Kelley‘s Sidelines, written in 2008, is very short and rather slight of substance in comparison. It consists of just two brief, sports-themed miniatures, Baseball and Basketball. The first (“A Ragtime Fugue”) is more modern in flavor and less beguiling than Jaffe's Quartet, but rather more overtly “American” in spirit. I hear more blues than Ragtime - tasteful, almost subtle, in inflection. It lasts barely 3 minutes. The second (“Variation on the Jump”) is shorter still, but very charming, and more overtly African-American flavored in its jazzy influence. Coming in at just over 2 minutes, I wish Mr. Kelley had developed it into something more substantial. Both sections were over much too quickly and I wanted more from this composer. 
 
In the final work, Schley Road, Scott Lindroth adds an alto saxophone to the quartet of strings. At first I welcomed its shimmering, vibrato-rich sound, which added an extra dimension of color and atmosphere. But it didn’t take long before the sax became too domineering. As it continues, there simply isn’t enough variety in the writing or the scoring to prevent the saxophone from becoming an incessant, unrelenting presence. One longs for a moment of respite where the sax stops playing and the strings take over for some much needed contrast and variety of mood, color and texture. But that never happens. The quartet of strings is relegated entirely to an accompaniment role, and there it remains for the entire 24 minutes. This might have been better suited on an album of saxophone music rather than string quartets.

This observation certainly has nothing to do with Susan Fancher’s wonderful playing, which is lovely. I read in the booklet this was commissioned by Fancher in 2019, and initially consisted of just one movement (the 2nd). Later, Mr. Lindroth composed an additional movement to come before it, adding another 9 minutes to the original 15. And I can’t help but think that the original conception would have been entirely satisfying as a stand-alone, single-movement work. This composer is obviously very talented and there is a lot of really nice, atmospheric music here - much of it very rewarding. But ultimately, I think it goes on too long.
 
In the end, I wish the Ciompi Quartet had limited Lindroth to just the one movement and convinced Anthony Kelley to compose a few new sections to add to his earlier piece to fill out the disc. There are certainly a lot more team sports he could have expanded on! I think that might have been just the right amount of saxophone variety on this string quartet program, while giving us the opportunity to hear more of Mr. Kelley’s creativity, which I would have eagerly welcomed. But I enjoyed what we have and this disc is noteworthy - most of all for Jaffe’s 3rd Quartet, which is fabulously entertaining. 

​Typical of New Focus Recordings, the recorded sound throughout is superb, as is the playing of the wonderful Ciompi Quartet.

​Two recent releases have me losing some respect for 2 esteemed Classical music labels - one for taking advantage of the consumer by offering a full price CD with a ridiculously short playing time; the other for taking advantage of the unsuspecting listener with inept, musically irresponsible “readings”.
 
Starting with Hyperion, they‘ve just released a recording of a wonderful new piano concerto by renowned pianist Stephen Hough. And it really is quite good - better than expected, and certainly enjoyable. It’s contemporary for sure, but definitely tonal, appealingly melodious and harmonically glamorous in a rather Rachmaninoffian way. It would be perfectly fitting as a film score for a classic romance film, and one can sit back and wallow in the splendor of it.

But here’s the rub - it lasts just 20 minutes. And apparently (unbelievably) having nothing in mind to fill out the disc, Hyperion decided to release it anyway - appeasing the collector by adding 2 short solo piano pieces to the CD in hopes no one would notice that the total playing time is a pitiful 39 minutes. And, adding salt to the wound, have the audacity to offer it at full-price. This is completely unacceptable, particularly coming from a fairly major player in the minor Classical label field. It is simply incomprehensible that they had no plans for Mr. Hough to record something else to go with his concerto. He’s recorded dozens of albums for this label; surely they would have had something in the can, or the pipeline, that could have been ready for this. Or with just the slightest bit of planning and foresight, wouldn't it have been a great idea to couple this new concerto with his String Quartet, just recently released on a Takacs Quartet album (2023). What a nice collection of original compositions that would have been. Or they simply could have marketed this as a single and offered it at half price. But since Hyperion has seen fit to do none of these, no one should buy this. Instead, go find the concerto on YouTube and listen to it for free. (You can even follow the score.) Which is exactly what I did.
 
I find it amusing how British reviewers will always find a reason to laud one of their own, even when they’ve been gypped. The most hilarious one I’ve seen says the short playing time allowed him to "enjoy the opportunity it provides to focus on just these compositions." Oh give me a break.  
 
At the opposite end of the issue comes a ridiculous release from Capriccio - of Bartok’s 3 piano concertos played by Florida-native, body-builder/piano-player John Barto Smith, aka Tzimon Barto. The layout here tells the entire story. Compared to any decent recording of these 3 concertos, which all fit easily onto one CD, this set takes two. The 3 concertos here take 15 minutes longer (!) than Bavouzet on Chandos (who isn't all that fast) and 8 minutes longer than the slowest, most ponderous recording I know of - the one from Aimard and Salonen in San Francisco on Pentatone (79 minutes total).
 
Barto drags these out to an astonishing 87+ minutes. The 3rd Concerto alone is extraordinary. Barto takes over 2-1/2 minutes longer in the first movement, and over 4 minutes longer in the Adagio than Bavouzet! It doesn't even sound like the same piece played this lethargically. And certainly doesn't sound anything like Bartok. Why Eschenbach went along with this is a complete mystery. Oh wait - it's not, actually. Eschenbach apparently "discovered" John Barto Smith back in the 80s. And I guess that allegiance still runs strong - music be damned. One wonders though why Capriccio waited 6 years to release this on CD. These "performances" were recorded in 2018/19 and are just seeing the light of day in 2024. 
 
The marketing blurb for this release is just embarrassing. They quote Mr. Barto: “Even Bartok needs a supple touch. If you bang away at it, without rhythmical buoyancy, of course it will become tedious.” Then Capriccio adds their own insight: “These recordings are his attempt at doing justice to his Bartok-ideal.” I laughed out loud at that and wondered how on earth they come up with such ridiculousness. To imply that every other pianist just bangs away at it and Barto alone truly understands it by making it "supple" is preposterous. As a matter of fact, this is the very epitome of tedious. Oh the irony.   
 
And here again, there’s the problem with the cost of it. Capriccio prices it higher than a single disc, but perhaps not unreasonably for a 2-CD set. But considering the second CD is completely unnecessary in the first place, this set is overpriced. Meanwhile, Gramophone touts the good recorded sound. They had to find something to praise, because they pretend Everything is GREAT! no matter what. Because that’s what sells magazines, and more importantly, keeps record labels advertising in its pages. But don't fall for it. Musically, this recording is about as tiresome as it gets, other than the recorded sound, which is actually very good (especially for the "live" performance of the Third) - definitely more dynamic and realistic than the dull San Francisco recording on Pentatone.

But in the end, it's pretty simple really: not everything needs to be recorded; and some things should never be released. The 6-year delay in bringing this to market would suggest that Capriccio knows this full well, but did it anyway - music be damned.  

​This box set was issued to celebrate the 30-year anniversary of the DAFO String Quartet. But you would never know that unless you read the enclosed booklet very attentively, where it is inconspicuously mentioned within a written interview with the musicians. Neither the group, nor the record label, seems inclined to trumpet this momentous occasion. But it is an important release nonetheless.
 
The DAFO Quartet formed in 1993 while still students, and evolved from there. And even though some of the members changed over that first decade, the group’s roster has been consistent since 2004. And they have always been all women. More importantly, as demonstrated by this collection of recordings spanning that 30-year career, what also has remained consistent is the excellence of their playing, and with the exception of the earliest recordings made in 1999, so too is the recorded sound from DUX.
 
Curious about their unusual name, just as I was with the JACK Quartet in my review of their latest recording, I learn DAFO was an acronym of the last names of its original members (just as it was with the JACK, but of their first names) - which no longer pertains to the current lineup. (Same with JACK). But no matter. 
 
I have admired the DAFO Quartet since hearing their 2010 Penderecki recording on the DUX label. My only regret was that they made that recording before the 4th Quartet (2016) was written. So when I saw this 2024 box set release, with extremely minimal information on the back cover as to its contents, it was with tentative anticipation that maybe - just maybe - they might have subsequently recorded the 4th and included it on this CD. Well, I was thrilled to discover that’s exactly what they did! At long last, we have all 4 String Quartets played by this fantastic group, along with the original couplings - the String Trio, Clarinet Quartet (joined by a superb clarinetist, Arkadiusz Adamski), and the little The Broken Thought. But that’s not all. Not only did they record the 4th Quartet, comprised of just two movements (a very short Andante and a vigorous, playful Vivo), they also recorded a recently completed third movement, as reconstructed by Claus-Dieter Ludwig in 2023 from sketches left by the composer. This final Allegro risoluto is fairly substantial, alone lasting as long as the 2 published movements combined (5-1/2 minutes) - bringing the entire work to around 11 minutes in length.
 
While it's significant to have this extra content, one can’t help but wonder how much of it is Ludwig and how much is Penderecki. The booklet provides very little detail on this, so we don't know how much of a fragment Penderecki left. It’s fascinating nonetheless, and a remarkable achievement to have it included here. When was the last time you saw a record label go to the effort and expense of making something right, for the sake of completeness, in a box set of reissued material? Hats off to DAFO Quartet, and especially to DUX Record Producers. What a terrific label this is.
 
The Penderecki was the primary enticement for me, and their recording is as good as it gets. The DAFO bring enormous atmosphere, vigor, wonderment and fascination to this music - and in the first two String Quartets, an eerie awesomeness - along with the most essential ingredient of all, the suddenness of dynamic contrasts. And the DUX engineers provide excellent recorded sound. Now that it includes all 4 String Quartets, this collection is also one of the most complete (along with the recent one on Capriccio). It remains one of the very best even among truly outstanding newer recordings from the Tippett (2020 Naxos), Silesian (2021 Chandos) and Meccore (2023 Capriccio).
 
The remaining 4 discs are logically organized by composer (more or less), taken from a variety of (mostly) reissued material. Disc 2 combines Bacewicz’s 4th with the two by Szymanowski, while Discs 3 and 4 are devoted exclusively to the three by Henryk Gorecki. The one exception is CD 5, which is comprised almost entirely of all new recordings. It presents the 4 String Quartets and 2 Piano Quintets by the only living composer represented in the box, Pawel Lukaszewski (*1968). Only the 1st String Quartet had been previously recorded by DAFO back in 1999, and I can find no other recordings of these works - making this disc indispensable. (The booklet, again very meager with details, mentions in passing “some of these are world premiere recordings.” Why wouldn’t they tout that more?) After the Penderecki, this disc is of primary significance. (More below.)
 
Another highlight for me is the Bacewicz 4th, even though it is not quite as well recorded. It was recorded in Krakow in 1999 (along with the Gorecki 1st and Lukaszewski 1st), in what sounds to be an empty, cavernous hall. The quartet is awash in reverberation - though not so much that it blunts musical impact - affording them an almost symphonic grandeur. It is interesting comparing this to the Silesian Quartet’s 2016 recording of the piece (part of their complete set of all 7 of her String Quartets for Chandos). The difference is quite shocking, actually. The Chandos acoustic is much clearer, almost stark in comparison, with the musicians presented in a much more intimate setting. While the DAFO are set back within a slightly tubby acoustic, surrounded by a halo of reverb - weightier and more dramatic. The lighter touch and transparent textures from the Silesians bring a delightfulness to this music which almost makes it sound like a completely different piece. Still, the DAFO actually make me love it more than the somewhat matter-of-fact Silesians do.

I won't delve into the Gorecki, as I have never cared for his music - and even the DAFO Quartet couldn't change that for me. But I will briefly comment on the two from Szymanowski, as I was much more captivated and moved by them here than ever before. I found it fascinating how the DAFO manage to relate the 1st Quartet to the unique soundworld of his first 2 Symphonies (written roughly 10 years before). There is a similar, richly perfumed atmosphere to it, which the DAFO relishes with an almost orchestral palette of color - propelled by a compelling sense of direction and purpose. While the 2nd Quartet, written 10 years later, is definitely more exploratory and even more intoxicating. It sounds decidedly more Impressionistic, occasionally reminding me of Ravel's String Quartet (amazingly written some 25 years earlier) in a way I had not experienced before. This reading is more characterful and characterized than the one from the Verona Quartet (whose recording I reviewed a couple of years ago), with more pronounced dynamics and articulation, along with sumptuous color - aided by beautiful recorded sound.
  
Finally, the new music on Disc 5. Lukaszewski is apparently known primarily for his choral music, and that can be heard in the inherent lyricism of his string quartet writing. These works are fairly short, and contemporary for sure, but nothing like Gorecki or Penderecki (for example). They are instantly appealing - pleasantly tonal and melodious, and rather lighthearted in spirit. The first 2 are full of character, playful even, adorned with an abundance of appealing tunes. The 3rd has more than a hint of minimalism in its rhythmic insistence - though even here, a glorious melody soars over the underlying agitation. The 4th, written much later (in 2021), returns to the enchanting congeniality of the 1st two. 

The DAFO are joined by pianist Marek Szlezer for the Piano Quintets, which are predictably heavier, with a bit of seriousness adding gravitas to the characteristic liveliness of the Quartets. This is exacerbated somewhat by the recording - which, though recorded in the same hall around the same time, sounds curiously darker and much more reverberant than the Quartets. The piano sounds overpedaled, swamped in the rather murky acoustic. However it's not too serious, and the charisma of this composer's nature emerges undiminished. All of his music is surprisingly approachable and very rewarding; I loved every minute of it. And as most of it was recorded in 2023, it clearly demonstrates the DAFO Quartet isn't showing any signs of slowing down after 30 years. Their playing is simply glorious.  
 
I had not intended to review all the individual works (or performances) in this box, but I became so engrossed in the music, I couldn't help myself. My original intent was actually to illustrate the extraordinary effort made by the DAFO string quartet, and especially this record label, in producing this box set and bringing it to market. Despite my feeling DUX has downplayed the commemorative element of this "30th Anniversary Celebration" and, especially, the world premiere recordings it presents, it is nonetheless a distinguished achievement. This set needs to be heard by everyone who enjoys contemporary string quartet music and appreciates exemplary string quartet playing. And I hope this review will bring at least a small amount of interest and attention to it.     

I received a review copy of this CD in the mail and thought I’d just sample it real quick to see if it was something I would enjoy enough to write about. And I soon found myself so immersed in the music, I simply couldn’t turn it off. And 53 minutes later, I realized I had listened to the entire disc without interruption. So yeah, I'd say I enjoyed it enough to review!

This is an enticing program of harp concertante music featuring French harpist Anaelle Tourret. It begins with a full-scale concerto by the sadly underrated composer, Reinhold Gliere. I was interested in hearing how the harp would compete to be heard over a full orchestra. Well I needn’t have worried. The recording engineer has done a terrific job with balances, and Vasily Petrenko keeps the NDR Elbphilharmonie Orchestra (of which Tourret is principal harpist) firmly under control, allowing the harp to be heard clearly without being at all spotlit by the microphones. And the result is sheer loveliness.
 
The first movement Allegro moderato is tuneful, with delectable string writing, yet with a transparency in the orchestration suitable for a harp concerto. Petrenko insists on delicacy from the orchestra, while encouraging expressiveness (especially from the strings), and establishes a forward-moving, flowing tempo which seems perfect for the music. And Tourret immediately demonstrates an impressive mastery of the harp. 
 
An interesting (and expansive) Theme and Variations occupies the central movement, with enormous variety and colorful orchestration which often reminded me of Tchaikovsky. Tourret displays inspired musicality and effortless virtuosity here in music which sounds quite challenging. The short finale, an Allegro Giocoso, is giocoso indeed, even though it sounds to be even more demanding of the soloist. There are flourishes and arpeggios aplenty, and even a glamorous double-handed glissando just before the 2nd theme is introduced. This is lovely music, and Petrenko continues to be a sensitive (if slightly reserved) partner.
 
What a wonderful piece this is, as is the Concertino by Ernst Von Dohnanyi which comes next on the program. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this Hungarian composer's harp concerto, written late in life out of financial necessity rather than artistic inspiration. While Dohnanyi was an exact contemporary of Gliere, he composed this relatively short concertino in 1952, just 14 years after Gliere’s, and it sounds fascinatingly more contemporary and harmonically expansive. And lighter in spirit (and texture) than I would have expected from him. It is a single movement comprised of 3 contrasting sections, flowing without interruption. The opening is a harmonically enterprising, melodically searching (almost yearning) Andante, which soon becomes turbulent, with some vigorous, rapidly repeated, double-strummed chorded passages in the harp - very impressively played. And it didn't take long before I began to recognize and appreciate the excellence and inherent musicianship of conductor Bar Avni, as she again and again demonstrates the importance of the orchestra as an integral (and equal) part of the music. 
 
This leads without pause into an Allegretto vivace, which is an absolutely charming scherzo with ebullient filigree darting back and forth between harp and sparkling woodwinds. It was over far too soon, and the piece ends, rather unusually, with an Adagio. But Avni wisely keeps it moving, more like a free-flowing Andante cantabile than a somber adagio, allowing the poignant melodies to sing ever so sweetly from harp and orchestral soloists alike. It is very moving, and surprisingly, makes an extremely satisfying conclusion to a glorious piece of music.
 
I was intrigued by the scoring in this work, which integrates the harp into the orchestral tapestry rather more than the soloistic prominence Gliere affords it in his. There are appealing melodic passages passed around from harp to various woodwinds in the orchestra, as if in friendly conversation, which keep the listener thoroughly engaged. And along with the marvelous harp playing, I continued to enjoy the wonderful contribution from Avni and the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra, who provide an enthralling, dynamic presence so vital to the piece. Avni’s orchestra shows no signs of restraint as their sound fills the spacious acoustic with resplendence and grandeur. 
 
I had never heard either of these concertos before and was captivated by their charming appeal - and even more so by the enchanting expressiveness and sheer accomplishment of the playing. 
 
Closing the concert is Debussy’s beloved Sacred and Profane Dances. And as wonderful as the concertos are, it is in this more familiar music where the mastery and masterful musicianship of Tourret and Avni become even more fully revealed. It’s one thing to bring neglected, relatively unknown masterworks to life; it’s another level of artistry altogether to make the familiar sound fresh and new. And that’s exactly how I hear their Debussy.
 
Right from the harp's first entrance, there is an endearing tenderness to her phrasing which is beguiling, followed by lovely expressiveness from the strings, with touching intimacy to their vibrato. Avni elicits an elasticity of phrasing which doesn’t interrupt tempos, but allows a certain freedom of expression - a slight relaxing here, a pushing ahead there - which is quite extraordinary.
 
This seductive phrasing is even more exquisitely portrayed in the Profane section, helped immeasurably by Avni’s perfectly executed tempo, which is slightly more moving than usual, inspiring the music to positively dance. (Too often this is either a bit sluggish or encumbered with too much rubato, keeping the music steadfastly earthbound.) This performance demonstrates exactly what the tempo should be, and the music is lifted aloft. And again I notice the impressive dynamic range, just as in the Dohnanyi before - an element often overlooked in this music, but once heard, becomes absolutely essential for bringing it to life. 
 
Tourret and Avni are perfect musical partners - ever responsive to one another as if playing chamber music. This is surely one of the most wondrous and enraptured recordings of the Debussy I have heard. (And it is better recorded than most.)
 
This CD appears on the ES/DUR (C2 Hamburg) label, in joint production with NDR and distributed by Onegate Media. The recording quality throughout is excellent. Even though the Gliere was made in a different venue (in Hamburg), there is an appealing naturalness to the recorded sound with both orchestras. However, the acoustic is even more luscious in Stuttgart - just a bit more spacious, airy, colorful and warmly reverberant (but not too much). One would never guess a chamber orchestra is utilized here, so richly imbued with warmth, color and texture is their sound.
 
I was somewhat apprehensive that an entire disc of harp music would be a bit too much of a good thing - but that was far from the case. Each piece is so uniquely individual, not only musically, but in the scoring as well, that I fully appreciated the “Perspectives” theme of this album. Never once, not even for a moment, did I experience a feeling of "sameness" while listening to it. I was fully engaged and immersed in the music from beginning to end. While I am certainly not an expert on harp playing, I can wholeheartedly say I enjoyed this release enormously - far more than I ever would have expected.

This is a sensational release. But I think Charlie Lovell-Jones got a bit short-changed on the production. Unlike the recent release of MacDowell orchestral works, where they featured a picture of a self-conscious Xiayin Wang on the cover (which wasn’t warranted, as the piano concerto was far from being a musical priority there), here, with Walton’s Violin Concerto very much the headliner, Charlie doesn’t get his pic on the front. And he should have. Oh it’s an attractive cover, but I wish they had used it on the MacDowell instead. These kinds of decisions just seem so nonsensical and arbitrary.
 
Be that as it may, this recording of the concerto is glorious. And Mr. Lovell-Jones deserves star status - even if I did find him largely responsible, as this orchestra’s "leader" (concertmaster) in a recent recording of music for strings, for the violin section’s ridiculously fast, frantic vibrato. (In hindsight though, it’s probably exactly what Wilson was asking for.) Mercifully, there is none of that anywhere on this Walton program. And hearing him as soloist, with the freedom to be his own musician and play from the heart, Lovell-Jones proves to be a wonderfully expressive violinist. While I do hear a fast, fairly tight vibrato from him, it’s not anywhere near frantic or hectic, and there is just enough body of tone to support it. While one could never describe his sound as large or particularly rich, there is a shimmering, almost ethereal silkiness to it which is positively lovely. And the recording engineer captures his violin naturally, without a hint of spotlighting, allowing his tone to float exquisitely up into the acoustic of that big cathedral they record in.
 
There is no denying Lovell-Jones receives superlative support from Wilson and the Sinfonia of London. Their commanding contribution makes a dramatic and powerful impact - so much so that at times they almost overpower the soloist. But that’s not Wilson’s fault, nor is it the fault of the recording engineer. Walton himself acknowledged an imbalance with the scoring after a performance in the “lamentably echo-laden” Royal Albert Hall, and proceeded to thin out the orchestration a little. But the orchestra remains an integral part of the piece, and what we hear on this recording is realistic and believable - exactly how we’d hear it in the concert hall.
 
Musically, this is about as good as it gets, despite (or more likely because of) brisk tempos. After the pensive, tranquil opening section, I was afraid the very fast speed in the molto piu mosso con brio was going to be too much. And indeed, the entire first movement is over rather quickly (nearly 2 minutes faster than Tasmin Little on her recent recording for Chandos, and over a minute faster than most other rivals, except Heifetz). But the music relaxes so graciously all around it, it works. And the ensuing Presto second movement proves it can be faster still - where Lovell-Jones plays with effortless bravura, without ever sounding breathless, followed by the most sweetly singing legato double-stopped melodic passages. 
 
The final Vivace is taken at a reasonable tempo, not at all helter-skelter, but with plenty of bravado. And I was even surprised to hear a remarkable resemblance to the finale of Prokofiev's 3rd Piano Concerto (tinged with a bit of Shostakovich and the bustling propulsion of Walton's own Spitfire Fugue) which I had never noticed before. We can possibly hear why Heifetz (the concerto's dedicatee) had some reservations with this finale, but Lovell-Jones and Wilson certainly make the most compelling and musically convincing case for it.

I have never enjoyed Walton's Violin Concerto as much as this. And the reason is simple - it is far better played, both by soloist and orchestra, than on any other recording I can remember. (And spot-checking many of them just to be sure, confirms this to be absolutely true - with the notable exception of James Ehnes and Bramwell Tovey on CBC Records in 2006.) And with superbly dynamic SACD sound which expands magnificently into the acoustic, this is most impressive - musically and sonically. It will inspire you to absolutely love this concerto, perhaps for the first time.
 
I am very impressed with Charlie Lovell-Jones, not only as a violin player but as a musician. I read in the booklet he has continued his studies even while leading the violins of the Sinfonia of London - recently graduating from Oxford (in 2020) and the Royal Academy (in 2022), and with continuing studies at Yale (with Augustin Hadelich) through 2024. At just 26 years old, he demonstrates an incredibly ambitious determination and dedication. And he plays a 1777 Guadagnini violin, which surely contributes to his lovely tone.  
 
While Wilson would certainly have opened the concert with the Overture which appears last on this disc for no logical reason, the program begins instead with the Symphonic Suite from the opera, Troilus and Cressida, as arranged by Christopher Palmer in 1987. Though quite a rarity, this is not a premiere recording. That came from Chandos back in 1989, with Bryden Thomson conducting the London Philharmonic (appropriately coupled with the 2nd Symphony). And predictably, Wilson’s tempos in all 4 movements are considerably faster than Thomson’s - remarkably so in the 3rd section, where he is nearly 3 minutes faster! But it never sounds rushed; it’s just more engaging and involving.
 
The opening section, “The Trojans" Prelude and Seascape, is very dramatic, unmistakably Walton, and characteristically operatic - especially in the central section where Wilson’s strings sing with fervor. While the Scherzo is mercurial - lively allegrettos alternating with lengthy lyrical (and very operatic) passages. “The Lovers” (3rd movement) then is somewhat reminiscent of Korngold, with Wilson’s forward-moving tempos encouraging rapturously soaring lines. (And he doesn’t shy away from its kindred affinity with the forthcoming 2nd Symphony.) And the central vivo really moves! It is followed by a breathtaking misterioso which is pure magic - as is the central tranquillo in the finale, surrounded on either side by dramatic passion. 

I've never thought of Walton as an opera composer, and this suite doesn't really change that - it works marvelously as a purely orchestral piece. Though there are tunes galore, it must be admitted this arrangement tends to sound rather more like a classic film score combined with symphonic elements right out of his 2nd Symphony, than an opera per se. (And truthfully, this may be more Christopher Palmer than Walton.) Nonetheless, it is glorious to hear. And John Wilson excels at this kind of music, with its endless variety of moods and styles. And this amazing orchestra responds intuitively and instantaneously to his every gesture. The rapport he has with this ensemble is really something quite wonderful.
​
Finally, appended at the very end of this disc for no conceivable (or musical) reason - as if just an afterthought - is an overture. I do wish someone would explain to Chandos producer, Brian Pidgeon, what an overture is. I think he thinks it’s an encore. For just as in a previous release of orchestral music by Bacewicz, where he appended an overture after the 2 major symphonies, here we have the Portsmouth Point Overture coming after the violin concerto. And Wilson, as is his wont, whips it up with as much energy and vigor as he could possibly generate. And it’s as exciting as you’d ever want to hear it, and as such, sounds ridiculously misplaced there at the end. Even the booklet writer (Mervyn Cooke) knows where it should go and writes about it first in the program notes!
 
Nevertheless, this is a terrific program - sensationally played and spectacularly recorded. For maximum appreciation though, I recommend listening to it in a completely different order than how it’s served to us on the disc. Start with the Overture (obviously), followed by the Concerto, and end with the symphonic suite - exactly as the program notes in the booklet are organized.
 
Wilson and his orchestra are fabulous in Walton (just as they were in Korngold) and I sincerely hope they have plans to record the two symphonies. We’ve desperately needed truly worthy successors to the classic 1966 Previn/RCA 1st, and the 1961 Szell/CBS 2nd. And I think Wilson and company could quite possibly be just the combination to deliver it. 

I was disappointed with Gimeno’s recent Dutilleux recording with the Luxembourg Philharmonic (although the Cello Concerto is quite good) - in large part due to harmonia mundi’s close, flat, somewhat mono-dynamic recorded sound, which lacks the necessary atmosphere and color needed for Dutilleux (especially Metropoles). I thought I’d give this conductor and label another chance with their latest release, as it involves a different orchestra and (obviously) a different hall. And the results are interesting. There are many similarities with the conducting, but the recorded sound is notably more atmospheric and dimensional in Toronto, which would have benefited the Dutilleux program more than it does Stravinsky. Gimeno has previously recorded two sets of Stravinsky ballets with the Luxembourg Philharmonic (in 2018 for Pentatone and 2022 for harmonia mundi), and it’s curious why he didn’t continue with them for this latest Stravinsky recording, and turn to Toronto for Dutilleux. If only Gimeno had switched orchestras for these two recordings, both might have been improved immeasurably. 
 
Musically, the similarities in this new release include refined, efficient, proficient and largely anonymous orchestral execution. And it could be more dynamic too. Harmonia mundi faithfully captures the spacious acoustic in Toronto, which sounds to be ideal. It’s a lovely sound which would have worked wonderfully in Dutilleux, but not as much in Stravinsky, given Gimeno’s propensity for smooth orchestral refinement over incisive articulation. Again, if only…
 
The program begins with a rather lackluster reading of Stravinsky’s Divertimento from the ballet The Fairy’s Kiss. I found it interesting reading Gimeno’s introduction in the booklet where he states he’s always interested in exploring complete scores over the more popular suites, and yet he plays just the suite from this. And it’s just as well, for he seems rather uninspired by it, and it sounds under-characterized and rather faceless. 
 
Fortunately, matters improve with the main attraction - the complete Pulcinella ballet - though I really wish Gimeno had used reduced forces, as Stravinsky envisioned this for chamber orchestra. With the full orchestra as recorded here, I miss some of the charm and intimacy of a smaller group. And it could be more articulate and vividly characterized as well. Inner detail is a bit murky and the low strings a bit woolly, as Gimeno prefers a homogenous sound. The orchestral playing is excellent though, and they certainly sound more lively than in Divertimento. 

Another problem for me is his use of big operatic voices with big voluptuous vibrato, which sound ridiculously overblown in this score. The singers are good, and I’m sure they’d be great in Verdi, but here, their boisterousness becomes more of an intrusion rather than an integral part of the narrative. (And this tenor - is his vibrato sounding concerningly close to becoming a wobble? And the mezzo is surely too dark; the score specifies soprano.) The bass/baritone is best. Even though he too has a big voice, he really does try to lighten it, and sings with a character and buoyancy befitting the text.
 
While recordings of the complete ballet are not all that common, more characterful and compelling readings can certainly be found. Chailly in Amsterdam (Decca) uses a one-on-a-part chamber ensemble to great effect, while Marriner's St. Martin in the Fields Academy (EMI) is the perfect-sized group for this music, and perhaps with the exception of the tenor, his vocalists are far more ebullient as well. Even Robert Craft, using the full London Symphony, is fresher and more engaging in his 1997 recording for Koch (reissued on Naxos).
 
And while I always prefer the complete Fairy’s Kiss over just the Divertimento excerpt, including the entire ballet here would have left no room on the CD for the commissioned work - which I suspect was a primary consideration for this release from Toronto. (And I had hoped it would be the highlight of the disc.) 
 
Curiously sandwiched in between the two Stravinsky scores, is a new work by Canadian composer Kelly-Marie Murphy, commissioned by the Toronto Symphony Orchestra and the Glenn Gould Foundation (that would have been in 2017, seven years before this recording was made) to celebrate Gould’s 85th birthday and the 70th anniversary of his debut performance with the orchestra. Its oddly cumbersome title, Curiosity, Genius, and the Search for Petula Clark, is certainly a mouthful, and not easily recalled after it’s done. (The composer explains in the booklet it originates from a radio interview Gould participated in at some point.) Unfortunately, the music is not much more memorable than the title.
 
It is contemporary for sure, somewhat avant-garde in its (lack of) tonality, and expertly orchestrated. It begins almost imperceptibly with some eerie, distant percussion and wonderfully atmospheric pp harmonics on the strings, before a series of beguiling solos emerge from the mists by a variety of woodwinds - beginning with the flute, with a marvelous improvisational quality to it. I’m instantly intrigued and drawn into this mysterious sonic landscape. An expressive bassoon plays a pensive tune before a percussion-laden crescendo takes us to an energetic, almost furious Allegro with flurrying strings and brass and percussion interjections, sounding not unlike an action movie sequence. It was at this point I kept expecting (and hoping) all this commotion would eventually lead to something substantive - a main theme perhaps, and a welcoming bit of harmonious tonality. But it never arrives. Some more high-energy film-score-sounding music soon gives way to another atmospheric section much like the opening (but more tense and uneasy this time), before agitated strings and heavy rhythmic punctuations from the brass and a battery of percussion whip up the action again - and again not really going (or getting) anywhere. And the piece abruptly ends, leaving me wanting more from it. 

So maybe not quite the highlight of the disc after all. Though inspired by an important and interesting figure, it tends to sound much like what it is - a commissioned work, written "on demand" for a specific occasion. And one wonders why it took 7 years for it to be recorded.
 
It is interesting to compare this with another new work by a female composer, Wang Jie, commissioned by the Buffalo Philharmonic and recently recorded on their album, “Contemporary Landscapes” (reviewed here on my blog). In some ways the two pieces are similar. Each is a roughly 10-12 minute long, single-movement, highly descriptive piece of program music, with varying sections and contrasting moods within it. And both are expertly scored. However, that’s where the similarities end. Though Jie’s piece too is rather erratic, it seems to have a more purposeful sense of direction. Each section leads spontaneously to the next, and its temperamental variety is capricious and entertaining, in an almost theatrical way. And it packs quite a punch too, building to a very exciting climax at the end. It really is a dazzling showpiece for orchestra - which, for all its bombast, Murphy’s is not. (And I suspect it wasn’t intended to be.)
 
All in all, this is a worthwhile release that will likely be enjoyed by many. Though there are preferable recordings of both Stravinsky works, these are satisfactory, and the commissioned piece is worth hearing. Best of all, the Toronto Symphony is sounding excellent these days - including some truly wonderful solo playing (especially in the new work) and a fantastic trombone in Pulcinella. And with harmonia mundi's irresistible cover art, this is certainly enticing.