This disc mysteriously showed up in my mailbox one day. I didn’t order it; and no one had contacted me about sending a promo copy. Not really interested in it, I laid it aside and forgot about it. Until one day when I wasn’t really in the mood for anything in my stack of new releases, I spotted this CD buried underneath them and thought I’d give it a try and see if it was any good. I read that the composer, Kris Bowers, is primarily a film/TV score composer, which piqued my interest.
 
Well…nearly half an hour later, after being completely mesmerized by what I was hearing, I came to the realization I had just listened to something wonderful. Who is this composer? Who is this marvelous violinist? And the orchestral accompaniment is played by a youth orchestra? That’s simply astonishing.
 
This violin concerto was commissioned in 2019 by the Los Angeles-based American Youth Symphony as part of their Korngold Project, and was premiered by them the following year with Charles Yang soloist. Unfortunately, extended effects and reduced funding sources in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic necessitated the orchestra to cease operations in 2024. This CD is their closing legacy.
 
Violinist Charles Yang, who attended Juilliard with Bowers, is a current member of Time For Three - self-described as a "classically trained string trio" (though not the usual kind - 2 violins and a double bass, all of whom sing while they play), which “explores a variety of musical genres including bluegrass, rock, jazz and hip hop". A quick sampling of their YouTube videos confirms they are a crossover group for sure - with an eclectic blend of vocals and strings, playing up to the audience with exaggerated involvement on stage, sometimes enhanced by ethereal lighting. While they are obviously accomplished musicians, I wouldn't have expected to hear such consummate playing from one of their members in a traditional Classical concerto on this CD.

Ultimately, none of this really matters - except that it’s interesting to know. What does matter is that Yang is an excellent violinist. The first thing that struck me (other than the superb recorded sound) is his tone - silken and wooden (rather like Ray Chen), infused with vibrant radiancy. And the heartfelt expressiveness in his playing - notable for legato singing lines soaring aloft with sweetness and fervor. Despite whatever music he was playing, it was a joy listening to him.
 
As to the concerto itself, amazingly this is Kris Bowers’ first concert work for orchestra, and it is certainly worthy of the commission and Yang’s lavish talents. (He surely should have been named first on the album cover, before the soloist.) It is superbly crafted - creative, captivating, beautifully orchestrated and extremely gratifying musically. In fact, it is so good, it makes the violin concerto by that other “film composer”, Danny Elfman (his so-called "Eleven Eleven” Concerto, reviewed elsewhere here on my blog), sound rather hackneyed and commonplace in comparison (which it is). This concerto by Bowers is in a much more exalted level altogether - even compared to the two by John Williams (since we’re talking about film composers).
 
Considering Bowers was commissioned to write this piece as part of the orchestra’s Korngold Project, it’s not surprising that it sounds so similar to Korngold’s own violin concerto, with its rhapsodic melodies and rich harmonies in the orchestra. But Bowers reveals his film-score roots much more frequently (and dramatically) than does Korngold - especially in the opening Moderato, where energetic, rhythmic outbursts often interrupt the impassioned melodic passages. There is almost an improvisational feel to it, as it establishes a freer and more adventurous exploration of harmony. Its abundance of melodies never becomes overly sentimental; there are moments of real struggle in this music, with embattled interplay between orchestra and soloist. 

The Second movement is even more reminiscent of Korngold - a pensive, nostalgic Larghetto, played here rather more like a free-flowing Andante, with an attractive forward momentum and sweeping lines. What makes it so special is the appearance of a scintillating Scherzo in the central section, leading to an intriguing cadenza, which makes some challenging demands of the soloist. It is followed by a mesmerizing final section - with a very moving, wistful melody in the violin above a spellbinding atmosphere in the orchestra.  
 
The final Presto veers far away from Korngold’s Allegro assai vivace. This is a relatively short, propulsive moto perpetuo, displaying thrilling virtuosity from the soloist. I was impressed with Yang’s ability to play all the busy passagework without ever sounding “scratchy”. His tone remains at all times full-bodied and assured - fleet and effortless, yet articulate and muscular. And the orchestral contribution throughout is dynamic, impactful and sophisticated. The piece comes to a dramatic conclusion, almost too abruptly; it was over too soon and I wanted more. 
 
This is a fantastic piece which deserves to be performed everywhere. The playing of the soloist and orchestra on this recording affords it the strongest possible advocacy - aided by inspired conducting from (cellist) Carlos Izcaray and sumptuous recorded sound.
 
After the glorious, melodious, enraptured beauty of Bowers’ concerto, the coupling is an unfortunate (and perhaps ill-advised) choice. It doesn’t really show this young orchestra at its finest (despite excellent playing all ‘round) and instantly sounds rather formulaic and derivative. I’m not a big fan of Schoenberg in the first place, and certainly not of his Chamber Symphony #1 - especially in this unnecessary arrangement for full orchestra, which just tries so hard to sound like Richard Strauss. But even in this grandiose orchestration, there is much to admire in this reading, played with elan by this fine orchestra. 
 
The recording, especially in the concerto, is quite simply, lovely. I had just listened to a new CD-only release from Chandos, which I thought sounded very good despite having been denied the usual SACD treatment. But listening to this new Orchid CD immediately after it, I was instantly immersed in a higher level of realism and involvement - transported to an absolutely gorgeous acoustic which affords the orchestra a glowing, lustrous blend, cushioned on air, full of color and sparkle. And there are some potent bass drum strokes too - deep and pillowy, but never overpowering. The Schoenberg, recorded 2 years later in a different location, is not quite as lovely. The orchestra sounds a bit less spacious and plush, revealing a slightly more rugged character in the playing - which I suppose is appropriate for Schoenberg.
 
Finally, I must address the production itself. The total playing time of this CD is just 48 minutes. So even on the face of it I feel shortchanged. And when you factor in the less than desirable Schoenberg takes up 22 minutes of it, that leaves just 26 minutes of rewarding new music. However, taking into consideration the circumstances surrounding this recording, there likely wasn’t an opportunity to record more music once it became imminent the orchestra would be disbanded. So all must be forgiven - because Kris Bowers’ violin concerto is marvelous, as is the violin playing of Charles Yang, and it simply must be heard at all costs.   

​I loved Sami Junnonen’s earlier recording on the Resonus label of Mozart’s Flute Quartets with members of Chamber Domaine. So I was eager to hear him tackle some difficult contemporary flute repertoire. What a striking contrast from Mozart!
 
I started with the Jolivet, easing myself into some contemporary music. This really is a beguiling piece (even if you don’t typically care for this composer) and Junnonen is lovely in it. In the opening Andante cantabile (and later in the Largo), his playing is beautifully singing and expressive, yet not weighed down with overindulgent emotion. And his tone is resplendent - clear, vibrant and radiant (just as it was in Mozart). The Resonus recording is seductive, revealing some positively luscious string sound in the Scherzando.
 
Sparks fly in the final Allegro risoluto, with crisp, buoyant virtuosity. Yet Junnonen brings such musical and meaningful purpose, I found myself thoroughly immersed in it all. And again I noted the glorious recording - presenting the musicians set back within a spacious, almost ethereal acoustic, with a glowing warmth to the sound. This has never been my favorite Jolivet composition for flute, but Junnonen very nearly convinces me otherwise. I don’t ever remember being so completely engrossed with the piece as I was listening to this recording of it.
 
Listening next to the Ibert, which comes first on the CD, Junnonen brings real freshness to this staple of the flute repertoire. Hearing him play it makes it sound new again. However, from the very opening measures, I was struck by the backward balance of the strings, which are very hard to hear - especially the violins in their 16th-note passagework all through the movement. But we are again treated to Junnonen’s radiant sound, which is, as before, simply resplendent. His playing is spirited and lively, accompanied by characterful woodwind contributions and splendid brass interjections. 

​The Andante is lyrical and poetic, and Junnonen incorporates a hint of “whooey-ness” to his tone (but not too much), affording it a pensive simplicity which is most alluring. And here he displays the superb breath control I noted in his Mozart. He can play long, complete phrases in a single breath, which is quite simply, amazing.
 
The finale, then, takes off like a whirlwind - with enormous gusto from rollicking horns and crisply articulated triple-tonguing from the flute. This is surely the fastest I’ve ever heard this played - light and gossamer, yet at all times effortlessly under control. Never hectic or breathless, the scherzando element is fully conveyed with an effervescence which is simply irresistible at this tempo. Once heard, I don’t think I can ever accept it played any slower - although I may have to, as I suspect most flutists can’t play it this fast. (Most recordings of it clock in about 30+ seconds longer.) Junnonen plays the now expected higher staccato notes at the end (high C to an almost impossible F above it), bringing the piece to a thrilling conclusion. The performance is so good, I almost wish he had played this last on the program.
 
He instead concludes with another real showstopper, Rodrigo’s Concierto Pastoral. This has been one of my very favorite flute concertos ever since Galway’s sensational 1978 RCA recording of it with the inestimable Eduardo Mata conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra. After it was finally published, a few brave flutists have subsequently recorded it - but surprisingly not that many. It’s extremely difficult to play and I imagine many flutists are reluctant to tackle it. And, seriously, can anyone really compare to Galway in this, his signature piece, which he commissioned from the composer?
 
And therein lies my quandary. I love the piece as Galway plays it and rarely does it satisfy in quite the same way as played by anyone else. However, after studying the published score, it must be acknowledged that Galway does take a few liberties with it - particularly with some of the dynamics and articulation, and especially the tempo in the Adagio, which is much slower than the metronome indication. He certainly made the piece his own (and there’s no denying his ravishing voluptuousness in the Adagio). I therefore admire flutists who don’t set out just to imitate Galway, but rather go back to its roots and discover new insights from the score itself.
 
I will summarily say that I enjoyed Junnonen’s recording. And it is different from Galway’s - less vigorous and a bit more rustic. It’s more, well, pastoral. And that seems to be perfectly appropriate, given the title. This observation may actually be attributed more to the orchestral contribution and the recorded balance than the flute playing - which I will get into below.
 
The opening meteoric, moto perpetuo display takes off at an animated, yet sensible tempo. But I soon began to wish for more energy and incisive articulation from the Helsinki Chamber Orchestra - especially the strings. (Right from the introduction of the main theme at ms 46, for example, the propulsive, chugging 8th-notes played by divisi violas are all but inaudible, as are the articulated cellos beneath them.) Compared to Mata on RCA, James Kahane (no relation to Jeffrey) is decidedly civilized and refined, and his orchestra sounds a bit small and lacking vigor. But overall, this is less of a bustling scramble of notes than often heard, and there is an attractive sophistication to the shape and scope of the movement as a whole.
 
The Adagio is quicker (and cooler) than usual - though I can’t quibble about it; it’s actually very close to the composer’s metronome mark. (Yes, I got out my dusty metronome and checked.) However, there is none of Galway’s mega rich vibrato here. Junnonen affords it a more plaintive simpleness, allowing a somewhat freer, more flowing naturalness which I liked very much - although it provides less contrast with the central piu mosso section which follows. But as the dynamic marking increases in the Allegro moderato, I once again needed more articulation and involvement from the orchestral strings. And in the ff melodic passage just before the cadenza, the violins sound distinctly undernourished and thin, revealing a very limited number of players. 
 
The finale launches into a true Rondo - gossamer and fleet, full of verve and charm. It’s not exuberant like Galway and Mata, and I continue to miss vitality from the orchestra. (Even the trumpet and horn calls sound a bit timid.) But there is a delightful ease and joie de vivre in the flute playing which is most appealing. And I found myself humming and whistling its many tunes for days after listening to it. I can hardly offer more praise than that.
 
This piece is extraordinarily difficult, exploiting the entire range of the instrument - from the low B (below middle C) to a multitude of high C#s and Ds at the very top. And the passagework often goes on for long stretches with nowhere to take a breath. Nevertheless, Junnonen’s flute playing is exceptional by any standards. And, yes it actually does sound difficult to play in places, lending a frisson of excitement and sense of spontaneity to his playing. Though Junnonen’s lower range is not as strong as Galway’s burly presence down there (likely aided by a close microphone), it’s refreshing to hear such a natural perspective from a recording without a hint of spotlighting of the soloist - exactly as one would experience it in the concert hall. 

Despite reservations with the orchestra in the Rodrigo, this album is excellent - especially the Ibert, which really is dazzling.

CBS/Columbia/Epic in the 50s and 60s. I won’t even try to unravel that nest of labels and subsidiaries here, or the reasoning behind the complexity of such arrangements in the first place. But SONY owns them all nowadays and many of the recordings in this box set are appearing on CD for the very first time.
 
I have to say how much I admire and respect SONY for always giving credit where credit is due, clearly identifying the original record labels on their reissued material - from RCA to CBS, or specifically on this box, Epic and Columbia - right on the front and back covers in all capital letters. As opposed to Warner, which claims everything as their own - not acknowledging, or even mentioning anywhere in the documentation, the record labels (EMI, Virgin, etc.) which made and produced the recordings they endlessly reissue under their own logo.
 
I had only been vaguely familiar with Louis Lane before acquiring this box set. I have seen his name pop up occasionally on filler material for various SONY Essential Classics CDs of Ormandy, Szell and Bernstein compilations. I also remember a couple much later Telarc recordings with the Atlanta Symphony (Respighi and Copland). In my mind, I always thought of Lane as a somewhat uninteresting conductor - in a category along with others similarly regarded, such as Yoel Levi for example. They just never excited me. But after listening to this marvelous box set of Lane's early CBS (et al) recordings, I’m beginning to change my view of him - for these are quite good.
 
There are 14 CDs here, most of which are, as usual these days, presented as the original LPs were, thus with very short playing times - most under 40 minutes (sigh). There are just three exceptions with CDs filled to over 60 minutes.

I was expecting to be underwhelmed listening to this set, but that rarely was the case. I found the vast majority of these recordings musical, engaging and thoroughly enjoyable. Disc after disc we hear consistently involving, committed readings - extremely well played, with precision and an adherence to the letter and spirit of the scores a priority - which one would expect from Szell’s orchestra. But there is a surprising amount of warmth and expressiveness not always heard from Szell. Tempos are generally well-chosen throughout - sensible rather than exhilarating, but musically just right. Best of all, the repertoire is interesting, varied and enterprising. There are even a few real rarities that I hadn’t encountered before. And the recorded sound, which has been expertly remastered for this set, is remarkably good (with one notable exception, which I will get to.)
 
I’ll not go into great detail, as there is a lot of material here. But it’s important to note that Lane conducts three orchestras (sort of) in this collection: The Cleveland Pops Orchestra - which is The Cleveland Orchestra with the “pops” nomenclature added for contractual purposes (not unlike the Boston Pops vs Boston Symphony); a smaller ensemble, The Cleveland Sinfonietta - consisting of 20 first-chair and supporting players from the ranks of the Cleveland Orchestra; and finally, The Cleveland Orchestra itself.
 
CDs 1, 2 and 3 provide top quality “light classics” without veering too far into Arthur Fiedler territory. Lane wisely avoids some of the typical pops fare done with such elan by the Boston Pops. The Clevelanders are perhaps too sophisticated for that, but what they do play is lively, enthusiastic and enjoyable. On Disc 1, Copland’s Rodeo excerpts (only 3, despite the title “4 Dance Episodes”) and Bernstein’s Candide Overture have appeared before on Essential Classics collections (as noted above). What’s especially nice here is having Morton Gould’s American Suite and Piston’s The Incredible Flutist as well.
 
There is an innovative collection of fairly uncommon Latin selections on Disc 2 (after a Gershwin overture), which turned out to be one of the most enjoyable discs of the set. Delightful and thoroughly idiomatic, Lane is in his element in this music. Especially welcome are Gould’s Guaracha and Lecuona’s Andalucia suite, where in the first of two sections, the glorious texture and air around the Cleveland strings en masse is simply amazing - particularly for a 1959 vintage recording. And notable on Disc 3 are three rousing excerpts from Bernstein’s On The Town on an inexcusably short program (even for a 1960 LP), which plays for just 34 minutes.
 
Disc 4 is the odd man out, musically and sonically, with a collection of pieces featuring the flute - indifferently played here by principal flutist Maurice Sharp. He has a cool, thin tone, with little expressiveness and an extremely fast, narrow vibrato (if any; more often none at all), which doesn’t really suit this richly Romantic music. Why he - of all the principal players in this magnificent orchestra - is featured on an entire album is beyond comprehension. There is some lovely music here, spoiled not only by the lack of warmth in the flute playing, but by unnecessary spotlighting from the engineer. This is so conspicuous because the sound everywhere else is realistically balanced and remarkably natural. Even in Honegger’s Concerto da Camera, which features a solo English Horn and flute, both soloists are ridiculously spotlit, seemingly in an entirely different acoustic from the orchestra. Worse, the close-up scrutiny of this English horn renders it sounding rather like a saxophone. A real disappointment.
 
Tempos certainly pick up in a program of symphonic marches on Disc 5 - including a rousing Rakoczy March (Berlioz) played at quite a clip, and an absurdly fast March from Symphonic Metamorphosis (Hindemith), where the strings are all but buried in the mix in all their busywork which can’t possibly be played with any kind of clarity at this speed. (This was a real surprise coming from the normally very sensible Lane.) The highlight of this program is most certainly the single excerpt from Rimsky-Korsakov’s Le Coq d’or, which is so wonderfully done, one laments he didn’t record the entire suite - especially with such atmospheric recording (amazing for 1960).
 
Another standout is Disc 6, which presents some rarely heard arrangements of movie music by the fabulous Robert Russell Bennett - including wonderful suites from Gigi and Exodus - and the charming Acadian Songs and Dances from Virgil Thomson’s Louisiana Story.
 
A splendid Outdoor Overture (Copland) starts off the pick of the bunch on Disc 7 - "Music for Young America". The program includes 3 selections from Menotti’s Amahl and the Night Visitors, Wallingford Riegger’s Dance Rhythms and Arthur Shepherd’s wonderful The Old Chisholm Trail. There’s also a fantastic ballet suite from The Happy Hypocrite by Herbert Elwell. I was not familiar with much of this music and found it enormously rewarding and gratifying. It is cause for celebration to have it on CD at last. What a wonderful album this is - superbly recorded and still sounding terrific today.
 
Disc 8 combines 2 disparate albums, separated by 8 years (1961/1969). I wasn’t really in the mood for bleeding chunks of Tchaikovsky waltzes, but Lane has such a natural flair for the waltz, they are not only enjoyable, but positively infectious! Not at all bombastic (which is too often the case in Tchaikovsky), they are infused with charm and finesse, lilting so delightfully it’s nearly impossible to sit still while they play.
 
The mood abruptly changes for the second half with some relaxing Debussy and Satie, plus Ravel’s Introduction and Allegro in a version for string orchestra. I prefer this piece in its original scoring for string quartet, flute, clarinet and harp, but it's so delicately and tastefully played here in Lane’s hands, it is positively lovely - aided by sumptuous, atmospheric sound. Why these were placed here after the boisterous Tchaikovsky waltzes, rather than on the next disc, is baffling. But I can't complain.
 
Loveliness (and sumptuous recorded sound) pervades Disc 9, with VW, Delius and Warlock - along with Francaix’s irrepressible Serenade. The Debussy, Ravel and Satie from the previous disc would have been a much better fit here.
 
Meanwhile, the Rhapsody collection is civilized rather than stirring in its buttoned-down refinement. This is the one program in which I wished for more verve from this conductor, who exhibits the mild-mannered temperament I was actually expecting to encounter more often in the set. This disc is somewhat of a disappointment compared to the sheer involvement heard most everywhere else, where Lane is usually very impressive. But on this day, he sounds rather uninspired and halfhearted. 
 
After this, I wasn't in the mood for a Mozart Divertimento (#17 in D major) on the next disc - especially played by the full Cleveland string section rather than the original chamber version for 6 players. One wonders why this was chosen for a recording session - and not with the Sinfonietta, but the full Cleveland Orchestra! But just as in the waltzes earlier, I was pleasantly surprised at how absolutely delightful it is. Lane is masterful in keeping this music light, joyful, lilting, and above all, graceful. This is 43 minutes of sheer bliss. And concertmaster Rafael Druian is ever stylish and musical in his many soloistic passages.
 
Lane brings a vivacious spirit to the 1st symphonies of Mendelssohn and Schubert On Disc 12. The Mendelssohn has always been one of my favorites and Lane does it as well as anyone. The crisp articulation in the strings, the expressive singing lines in the winds, and the airy, silky recorded sound all combine for a winning performance. The appealing sweetness and alluring sheen to the strings are simply glorious.
 
Interestingly, this album includes an alternate Scherzo which Mendelssohn himself apparently substituted for the original Menuetto when he first conducted this symphony. It’s a repurposed version of the scherzo from his Octet, shortened to just over 3 minutes and recomposed in several places. Lane was the first to record this version in 1966 and it is supplemented at the end of the symphony (which includes the original 3rd movement as well). Fascinating. (Incidentally, this recording has appeared on CD before - on a 1997 Essential Classics "Take Two" release featuring Ormandy's Italian Symphony.)
 
I’ve never loved Schubert’s 1st as much as his others, but Lane almost makes me think otherwise. His lightness of touch, crisply articulated strings and joyous exuberance are most convincing.
 
Beethoven’s Creatures of Prometheus is certainly welcome, filling Disc 13 with nearly 63 minutes of this neglected score. It is characterful and stylish in Lane’s hands, revealing so much wonderful music which has perhaps been underestimated over time. The only caveat I’d mention is the hall acoustic here is a bit more reverberant than noted elsewhere in this collection - which doesn’t exactly benefit Beethoven. But it’s not serious, and the music-making is so engaging, one quickly forgets the acoustic.
 
And at last we come to the final disc, which is yet another one I wasn’t real interested in hearing. And this time, Lane doesn’t successfully change my mind - at least not in the ballet suite, The Wise Virgins. I’ve always thought Walton’s orchestrations of Bach chorales rather pointless; and I still do. I suppose they are appropriate in conjunction with an actual ballet performance, but as purely orchestral music - not so much. Oh how I wish Lane had recorded some real Walton! The coupling, Tommasini’s ballet The Good Humored Ladies, is much better - thanks to the source material (Scarlatti harpsichord sonatas) and the delightful freshness Lane infuses into the score. Expert playing and sound bring the music vividly to life.

I was pleasantly surprised at how rewarding this set is. I've gained many hours of enjoyment listening to it. I was impressed with the inspired musicianship of Louis Lane, and definitely with the superb playing of The Cleveland Orchestra. But even more, I was amazed at the warm, alluring recorded sound, which is quite remarkable for the period. During a time when RCA was at the cutting edge of utilizing minimal microphone techniques to create a more natural-sounding orchestra for their Living Stereo series (as was Mercury with their Living Presence recordings), CBS/Columbia was not far behind. And today, SONY has certainly perfected the art of remastering classic analog recordings. With the exception of Disc 4, these are quite simply glorious.

The Orquesta Sinfonica de Galicia is one of my favorite concert orchestras to watch on YouTube. They present full length concerts in excellent sound and high-quality videography - with expert, knowledgeable camera operators who zoom in on the appropriate musicians at the appropriate times, corresponding with what we’re hearing. Watching Dima Slobodeniouk build this orchestra through the years into an ensemble of real stature has been rewarding to witness. I have always credited his success for his no-nonsense presence on the podium - eschewing ostentatious mannerisms and extravagant flailing about, instead focusing on a very crisp baton which is easy to follow and allows the orchestra to be instantaneously responsive to his every gesture. He consistently draws precision from the orchestra, and elicits weight and real power when called for.
 
Dima Slobodeniouk (hereafter referred to, simply, as “Dima”) has recorded several albums for BIS (most often with his other orchestra, the Lahti Symphony), but I was excited to see this Stravinsky release is with the Galicia. And they acquit themselves brilliantly. They can stand proudly alongside any major-league orchestra which has recorded this music.
 
In fact, I had just recently listened to the new Chandos recording of these two (orchestral) Symphonies from Andrew Davis and the BBC Philharmonic. I thought Davis’ way with Stravinsky is typical of him - warm, refined and musical - enhanced by plush recorded sound from Chandos. But he's not the most exciting conductor. Whereas I thought Dima to be more faithful to the composer - incisive, dynamic, energetic and more identifiably Russian. 
 
Listening to the 2 recordings back-to-back over several days, this impression persisted in Symphony In Three Movements, but not necessarily for Symphony in C, where I thought the tables were turned. Intrigued by the two approaches and how they succeeded differently in the two works, what started as a review of the BIS has evolved into a closer look at both discs. Moreover, comparing the two is logical, as they have much in common. Both are recent releases from two of the most esteemed Classical labels, and both are offered on SACD. And that last bit is important; for in the end, I found the recorded sound to be as much a factor as the conductors themselves.
 
Right from the beginning of the opening movement of Symphony in Three Movements, I was taken aback by the incisive articulation from the Galicia strings - aided by the extraordinarily transparent BIS recording. Rarely have I heard such precision of execution and observance of the many accents and downbow markings - and especially the crisp marcato indications. The resultant bite and spikiness are most appropriate and wholly characteristic of Stravinsky. Textures are airy and transparent, revealing intriguing inner details which often go by unnoticed, and extraordinary clarity to the piano contribution. All combined, this reading exhibits the spirit and very essence of the piece.

Comparing this to Andrew Davis in the same (1st) movement, yes Davis is a bit warmer and seemingly less incisive. But is he really? Actually I think it’s the Chandos recorded sound which makes it seem that way. I cannot fault the articulation of the strings and there is plenty of bite to brass. But Chandos softens it just slightly, capturing more of the plush, reverberant acoustic. And the overall effect becomes a bit more “symphonic”. I was much more energized by Dima's Galicia orchestra, which is more sparkling, detailed and expressive.
 
Dima pulls ahead interpretively, too, in the remaining movements. The 2nd movement is positively delightful and full of charm; whereas Davis is a bit more earthbound and matter-of-fact. In addition, the transparent textures on BIS reveal more inner details as important contributions, allowing the music to positively dance. The atmospheric acoustic, too, is most alluring - shimmering with orchestral color.
 
The differences are even more pronounced in the finale, where Davis is slower and more ponderous. Dima more closely follows Stravinsky’s con moto indication and propels the music with energy and charisma, bringing the piece to a thrilling conclusion.
 
Symphony in C is similarly played by both orchestras, however the extra richness of the BBC Philharmonic pays dividends. And Chandos provides better recorded sound here than in the other symphony on the disc. The booklet reveals it was recorded 3 years earlier (in 2019) and we can hear more spaciousness to the acoustic. And Davis has real vision in this work, especially in the first movement, where in the climactic section (about 5 minutes in) he generates majesty and sweep as the violins soar in their upper registers with ardor and a glorious body of tone, surrounded by air. The scope of this movement is most impressive.
 
Meanwhile, Dima’s crisp, precise approach emphasizes expressiveness and characterization. Both readings are most enjoyable, but Davis brings that extra bit of grandeur which is wholly appropriate.
 
In the 3rd movement, Davis is more characterful and dynamic - helped by the excellence of the Chandos recording. However, he is unusually slow and plodding in the opening of the finale, before lightening the mood delightfully in the tempo giusto which follows. Dima is less grandiose at the beginning, and then takes off at a very fast clip, leaving his strings scrambling to keep up with him as the movement takes flight. But there’s no denying his enthusiasm.
 
The improved sound Chandos provides for Davis in Symphony in C elevates it to a higher level of musical involvement. Similarly, it must be emphasized how important the superb BIS sound is to the success of the recordings in Galicia. The orchestra is presented with immediacy and clarity in a well-defined, spacious acoustic - yet with more warmth, color and richness than is often heard from this label. This is simply wonderful recorded sound - one of the very best I’ve yet heard from BIS.
 
Choosing between these two releases is difficult and I wouldn’t want to be without either. Both are excellent, but in slightly different ways, as expected. Dima is fleet, incisive and expressive; Davis is warmer and more symphonic. That’s the quick and easy summary. However, couplings may be a deciding factor for some. Davis plays a somewhat tepid and under-characterized Divertimento from The Fairy’s Kiss. While Dima, perhaps more appropriately, plays a splendid Symphonies of Wind Instruments (in the original 1920 version), bringing similar incisiveness and expressiveness as heard in the rest of the program. And his winds exhibit a beautifully refined sound which is most appealing. I strongly prefer this over the Chandos coupling.
 
Dima Slobodeniouk has a real feel for Stravinsky. And with such an intimate, deeply developed relationship with the Galicia orchestra, they respond with involvement, vigor and commitment. It was a real pleasure hearing them play this music so expertly. This BIS release is quite simply outstanding.
 
Oh…there’s one more interesting aspect which these two releases have in common. Both are comprised of recordings separated by several years - 2019-2023 (BIS) and 2019-2022 (Chandos) - presumably necessitated by the Covid-19 pandemic. We should be ever grateful these dedicated, committed record labels did not abandon these projects. Both were well worth the wait.  

This may sound like a strange observation, but for me, one of the stars of this show, aside from the composer and the conductor, is the orchestra "leader" (or as non-British orchestras call them, the concertmaster).

Anyone who follows my blog will have undoubtedly read my extreme irritation with this orchestra's string section on their most recent album of music for strings - where their manic, frenzied vibrato was just ridiculous (especially in the Enescu). The "leader" on that album was Charlie Lovell-Jones, and I suspect he is largely responsible for the string sound heard there (though likely coaxed on by the conductor). I was thrilled to hear the orchestra's strings return to normalcy and good taste on this new album of music by Kenneth Fuchs (just as they had been on Volume One in the series). And noting this is a different "leader" seems to confirm my suspicions.

The leader for this recording session is John Mills, just as he was on the previous Fuchs album. And the strings are positively glamorous - shimmering, vibrant, silky and lush. Nowhere to be heard is the frantic, hysterical vibrato we heard from this group on the Music for Strings album. One wonders why John Wilson allows it to occur with one "leader" but not the other. 

That being said, I found the orchestral playing on this new album to be absolutely sensational. Moreover, recording engineer Ralph Couzens has once again found the optimal positioning for his microphones (after the mishap with the Daphnis and Chloe recording). The orchestra has regained clarity and focus within a spacious acoustic, and dynamics expand effortlessly and powerfully into the hall. All I can say is - hooray for small miracles!

Now getting to the matter at hand, I was a little disappointed to discover there isn't a whole lot of new music on this second volume of orchestral music by Kenneth Fuchs. Of the four pieces recorded here, three are re-orchestrations of preexisting works and only one is newly composed. Fortunately, the reworked material is quite rewarding.

Eventide was originally written for English Horn and Orchestra, as recorded by JoAnn Falletta and the LSO for Naxos in 2003. It is played here by an alto saxophone instead. The bass trombone concerto was originally written for a wind band accompaniment, while the "Point of Tranquility" was an original concert band work. Both have been previously recorded in their original band versions but are transcribed for orchestra on this new recording. Only the opening work, Light Year, is completely new. 

I don't mean to sound disparaging. All of this music is quite wonderful (though not quite as wonderful as that on the first volume) and certainly benefits from the boundless color, dynamic range and atmosphere only an orchestra can produce. And with John Wilson on the podium (and John Mills leading the violins), and the very best recorded sound from Chandos - well it doesn't get much better than this.

I'll save the new work for last (and indeed I listened to it last), so let's start with the glorious saxophone playing of Timothy McAllister in Eventide. I wasn't expecting to enjoy this as much as the original, but I did. With a saxophone as soloist, the piece frequently reminded me of Henri Tomasi's magnificent Saxophone Concerto - one of his most accomplished works, and surely my very favorite piece ever written for saxophone and orchestra. McAllister plays with exquisite tone, not at all brassy or coarse. This is a sweet, buttery sound, infused with vibrancy and air (but not breathiness). And his vibrato simply shimmers with elegance, not unlike an English horn. However, there is an appealing bit of huskiness to it, along with delicacy. There’s also just the occasional hint of a jazz-influenced lip slur - but only rarely and just barely perceptible in its subtlety. In short, this is musicianship of exquisite eloquence - appropriate for the piece.
 
Well, except for that strange 6th Variation ("Bong like a church bell"), where the soloist plays with a weird guttural flutter tone for no apparent musical reason. I couldn't remember the English horn playing it this way on the Naxos recording, but a quick spot-check confirmed it did - sounding even worse there. It sounds like McAllister is doing his utmost to minimize it as much as possible on his sax, but I simply don’t understand why it's there at all. Why disrupt such gorgeousness with this? Fortunately it doesn’t last long and mercifully does not recur. And it is immediately followed by the most luscious, shimmering strings you’ll ever hear on record in the next Variation. So all is good and my admiration for this version of the piece is restored. 
 
A bass trombone concerto is certainly not something I would normally be drawn to, but this is by Kenneth Fuchs so it just might be good! Not unlike his 2015 Glacier for electric guitar and orchestra, it’s the orchestral contribution which makes the piece interesting. It’s scored with all the color and resourcefulness an orchestra can generate, with the soloist almost an afterthought. The trombone part is not really all that interesting (maybe more so for trombone players) but manages to integrate itself into the orchestral fabric without being too conspicuous. James Buckle is obviously an excellent soloist, and I especially admired his lowest notes, which are played with exceptional focus, articulation and roundness of tone. The piece is laid out in 4 continuous sections lasting 14 minutes, which is more than long enough. 
 
The orchestration of Point of Tranquility brings about a complete transformation from its original band version. I don’t know if it was a lackluster U.S. Coast Guard Band, or an uninspired director, but I found the piece rather pointless (excuse the pun) on their 2018 Naxos recording of the original. In this orchestral version, it's just as colorful and atmospheric as other orchestral works by Fuchs. There are beautiful solo passages (the opening trumpet, as joined by some woodwinds, exhibits a luscious blend of sound), followed by big swashes of orchestral color, surrounded by arpeggiated filigree played by all manner of instruments - harps, bells, clarinets (and maybe 2nds and violas). But this isn’t the brilliant splashes of color like we heard in Cloud Slant on the earlier album. True to the title, this is even more relaxing, almost meditative, like soft waves washing onto the sand. And at the end, I concluded the music really did portray tranquility - in a way a military band couldn't possibly. 

The piece is a complete success in this orchestral revision. It's like going from black-and-white to color. Or even more pertinent - mono to stereo. Even though it isn’t newly composed, it sounds newly minted as played by John Wilson and this fabulous orchestra.
 
Finally, the all new work, Light Year (suite for orchestra) is unmistakably Fuchs, and can be by no one else. But it’s not quite as uniquely original as I was hoping. It’s very similar to both Tranquility and Cloud Slant. It seems to combine all the atmosphere of the former with all the color and vitality of the latter in its portrayal of the universe - from the nothingness of space in the opening section, to the brilliant splashes of light which ensue. The endless arpeggiated undulation, agitated and swirling strings, bubbling swashes of color, and sudden brassy outbursts are all instantly recognizable from Fuchs’ other works. 

Don’t for a minute compare this with that familiar suite of planets; no, this is absolutely nothing like that. It’s more ethereal, more cosmic, and certainly more glittering. This music is more about atmosphere and imagination than compositional substance. In fact, I thought it perhaps went on a bit too long without developing real thematic material - or even a memorable tune (though the wistful melodic line on the violins, later echoed by the horn, in Lunar Valley is enchanting.) Even the Scherzos are propelled primarily by bustling, scurrying string flurries. There are certainly lots of notes in this piece!

Not to say I didn’t enjoy every minute of it. I certainly did. But remembering my earlier observation about the importance of the leader of this orchestra, this piece demonstrates why. It’s an orchestral extravaganza - a display of extreme virtuosity and bravura requiring the ultimate in color, panache and finesse. It exhibits masterful orchestration, at which Fuchs is brilliant. As I noted in my review of his music on the first volume, Fuchs can make almost anything - or almost nothing - interesting just with his extraordinary orchestration. And that's what I admire most about it. This is orchestral playing of the very highest distinction - with positively ravishing string sound throughout, thanks to Mr. Mills.

After a second listen, I began to more fully appreciate everything this piece has to offer, and realize I may have underestimated its creative distinction. In fact, I consider this to be Fuchs' Concerto for Orchestra - more so than Cloud Slant, which the composer himself subtitled "concerto for orchestra". Light Year features dazzling displays from every section of the orchestra in succession - strings here, brass there, and percussion definitely in Hot Ice, where along with bravado trombone glissandos and bold brass interjections, I was reminded of rousing movie music (specifically John Williams and Star Wars). The finale launches us into the cosmos with a splendid orchestral spectacle before fading away into the farthest reaches of outer space - bringing the piece to a wondrous conclusion. 
 
And it most definitely should have come last on the program. But that’s just me.
 
In sum, I’m happy to hear the Sinfonia of London sounding glorious again. We can hope Mr. Wilson understands that we can hear the difference. I’m also happy that Chandos has once again achieved superlative recorded sound. We can hear the difference with this as well. And these things matter.

Finally, I look forward to more new music from Kenneth Fuchs, hopefully on a future installment with John Wilson - and with John Mills in charge of the strings.

A fantastic debut album from the fantastic Pacific Quintet. Unity themed, it combines composers from 6 different nationalities, 5 of which correspond to the home countries of the players (Bernstein being the “extra”). The booklet is skimpy with details about the music and the musicians, but a quick Google search reveals this is a Berlin-based group. And while the nationalities represented by the players are listed on the back cover, they are not directly correlated with the individual musicians for some reason.

But grumbles aside, the music is interesting and varied, and the playing and recorded sound are absolutely spectacular.
 
Fazil Say (Turkey) is a composer I appreciate more and more every time I encounter his music. He’s a seriously good piano player too, but so eccentric and flamboyant at the keyboard (with ridiculous vocalizations while he plays), I don’t collect many of his recordings. But he’s a truly gifted and imaginative composer and this opening work fully demonstrates it.
 
As to these compositions from 6 different countries, the booklet continues to frustrate with its lack of useful information. There are no translations of titles or movement labels anywhere to be found. Google can assist in some instances, but I couldn’t get it to identify any of the Japanese or Turkish words. Thus I have no idea what the title of Say's work means. Relying only on the brief summary provided in the booklet, we're told it depicts a day in the life of 5 old Turkish men. Interestingly, the piece has only 4 movements, so I’m still a bit puzzled by what’s going on. So I will concentrate solely on the music itself - and this piece is an absolute knockout! And the perfect concert opener to showcase the capabilities of this group. It is highly virtuosic and expertly scored for this specific combination of instruments.
 
And indeed, the playing is simply amazing (and I don’t use that word often). The music sounds to be incredibly difficult to play - including rapid, repeated articulation (staccato double-tonguing), dizzying trills, sharp stabbing low notes from the bassoon and horn - all made to sound absolutely effortless in their execution of it. In addition, there is gorgeous tone - colorful and expressive - from all 5 players, along with an extraordinary dynamic range. And I’m hearing all of this just in the opening fantastic presto!
 
All of these characteristics extend into the Moderato, while the Andantino calls for expressive lyricism, where we hear gorgeous, vibrant flute tone and a robust, golden-hued horn (which never overpowers the others). The closing Presto returns us to the extreme bravura of the opening movement, beginning with incredible pianissimo filigree alternating between the flute and clarinet - again sounding completely effortless, yet menacing at the same time. And later on, incredibly the same gossamer flourishes are assigned to the bassoon and horn, back and forth, played just as effortlessly.

I have to admit I was astounded by what I heard. Not only the music, but especially by the playing. The remainder of the program never quite rose to this exalted level of compositional or musical achievement. However, there is a lot of interesting and rewarding music.
 
Especially Vida by Jorge Santos (Honduras). After a rather strange introduction, it is followed by 6 short, characterful sections which depict “human life in 10 minutes”. Each is descriptive of its given subtitle (as translated by Google): curiosity, imagination, puppets, wandering, “busqueda” (searching, I believe?), and fullness (of life?). The music is endlessly varied and interesting, and I found the work captivating and over much too soon.
 
The “Medley of Japanese Folk Songs” by Kyousei Yamamoto (Japan) is another delightful work. Its 4 lighthearted, folk-song inspired movements are very short and to the point: 1) a jig-like dance; 2) a song; 3) playful - charming and delightful; and 4) songful and reflective. I found it very entertaining, and like Vida, simply too short. I wanted more from both of these wonderful composers!
 
Now things get a little more serious with the Divertimento for woodwind quintet by Hanns Eisler (Germany). This was composed 20 years before his more familiar Nonetto #2, and 90-100 years before almost everything else on this CD. And yet it sounds by far the most “modern”. This was written during his 12-tone phase while a student of Arnold Schoenberg - and it sounds like it. Fortunately he grew out of it quickly and eventually began composing film music, during which time he wrote his two Nonettos, which are decidedly more melodious and tuneful. This Divertimento is not nearly as appealing, but agreeable enough if you like Schoenberg. 
 
Jumping ahead exactly 100 years, musical satisfaction improves with the Three Bagatelles by Soeui Lee (South Korea). Each is delightfully contrasting, beginning with some charming music for a marching band. It incorporates some unusual techniques such as subtle flutter-tonguing, and features the horn prominently. And what a fabulous player Haeree Yoo is! This is followed by a lyrical Serenade propelled forward by a delightfully bouncing bassoon. And the piece concludes with a Korean Dance, featuring traditional Korean rhythms. If not quite as musically rewarding as the first three works on the program, it is nonetheless enjoyable and over too quickly.
 
To close the concert, I was disheartened the group chose to represent the United States with yet another frivolous, superfluous arrangement of 3 hit tunes from Bernstein’s West Side Story. If the U.S. had to be represented at all, why not choose another original work for woodwind quintet? After a program of fascinating, wonderful original works for woodwind quintet, I wasn’t at all interested in hearing them play a merry arrangement of I Feel Pretty. I’m sure it provides a stirring encore for those who are so inclined to listen to it, which I was not.

The production itself is very fine, including charming pictures of the musicians on an attractive trifold cardboard enclosure. The rather inadequate booklet, though, is disappointing. I would have expected to read something (at least a brief bio) about this ensemble on this, its debut album. And given most of the program is comprised of new music from composers likely unknown to most of us, I expected more thorough program notes too. I did read on the back cover that 2 of the works were commissioned for this album and we can presume these are premier recordings. Fortunately, the recorded sound is superb and the playing of this group is jaw-droppingly awesome.
 
I love a highly accomplished, well-recorded woodwind quintet - especially as there is so much really good music written for the genre. Several outstanding groups have released CDs recently which I have enjoyed enormously - including the Monet Quintett (on Avi/SWR2), Orsino Ensemble (Chandos), and members of Ensemble Arabesques (Farao Classics). The Pacific Quintet can certainly stand proudly among them as one of the very finest. I simply cannot wait for another album from them - or from any of these other groups as well. 

I have enjoyed many CDs over the years from the Belgian chamber ensemble, Oxalys. On the Fuga Libera label, the Mozart and Ries Flute Quartets are simply glorious. And more recently on Passacaille, entire albums of marvelous chamber music by Jean Cras and Joseph Jongen are real finds.
 
Oxalys began producing their own recordings on the Passacaille label about 10 years ago, and along with new projects, reissued some of their previous out-of-print titles as well. Their two newest recordings reveal something of an evolution of the group - not only in overall sound, but also in expanding their instrumentation to explore a wider range of repertoire.
 
The 2021 CD “Nonetto” brought about a notable transformation in the group’s recorded sound, which is now slightly more forward and immediate than the more atmospheric glowing blend heard on previous recordings. There is a more detailed individuality afforded each member of the group - as if going from sitting down to standing up and playing in a more soloistic manner. Nino Rota’s Nonetto is an example of their somewhat more upfront and incisive sound. While there’s no denying the invigorating enthusiasm in the playing, I do miss a bit of warmth - especially when compared to Eric Le Sage’s wonderful collection of Rota's chamber music on Alpha Classics, which is slightly warmer and more colorful. Both recordings are excellent, though, and choosing one over the other as a primary recommendation would be impossible.
 
Hanns Eisler’s Nonet #2, which comes next on the Oxalys program, is then a touch more relaxed and atmospheric - wholly beneficial and appropriate for the work. This is highly descriptive music, composed during the time Eisler was writing film music. (His first Nonet was actually written as film music.) The playing is full of charm and character, made even more so by its tasteful inclusion of percussion (delightful xylophone interjections here and there bring smiles every time). This piece is wonderfully creative and appealing and would, in fact, make splendid ballet music. 
 
In the final Nonet (#2) by Martinu, Oxalys successfully combines the color of the Eisler with the energy of the Rota in a winning performance - though I have heard it played with just a bit more charm and wit than it is here. It is nevertheless enjoyable and brings the concert to a splendid close.
 
Their newest (2024) release, “The American Album”, begins with Copland’s Appalachian Spring ballet in its original version for 13 instruments. And it is one of the most convincing performances of it I can remember hearing. Indeed, for the first time, I began to appreciate it much more than the ever-popular orchestral version. Its intimacy and more transparent scoring evokes a completely different emotional reaction which I found most attractive. But again, this is a more direct and detailed interpretation of the piece than often heard, which perhaps could use just a touch more love. It is expressive certainly (and beautifully played), but not overly contemplative. However, it is afforded superb recorded sound which presents the group with presence and realism in a lovely, spacious acoustic. This performance is most appealing, if in a rather no-nonsense rendering. 
 
John Adams’ famous Shaker Loops is also played in its original setting for 3 violins, viola, 2 cellos and a bass - but in its alternate “through-composed” version rather than the “modular” one which invites the musicians to “independently intervene” during the performance. (I’m not sure exactly what that means and don’t think I’ve ever heard it played that way.) Oxalys plays it with extraordinary precision, and the recording is highly detailed, revealing every inner strand.

The first movement is incisively articulate with vigorous propulsion. The 2nd, in stark contrast, is surreal and unexpectedly mellifluous, as the players breathe exquisite tenderness into all those little glissandos. The 3rd movement starts similarly - lyrical, almost lovely, yet kept marvelously simple - before an underlying rhythmic insistence asserts itself. The music builds to an incredible, sustained climax (magnificently projected by the recording) - like an unstoppable locomotive approaching at full steam - before it finally releases the delirious intensity, dissipating into ethereal harmonics. The finale once again takes up the incessant rhythmic pulse - mesmerizing in its nervous restlessness - demonstrating minimalism at its absolute finest and most effective.

I've never been so thoroughly immersed into this piece as I was listening to this recording of it. The playing and recorded sound are electrifying - keeping the listener transfixed from beginning to end. 
 
The closing Meeelaan by Wynton Marsalis then is quite unusual - made even more so with its unusual scoring for bassoon and string quartet. The music itself is creative and certainly entertaining, but I wasn’t sure that a bassoon was the appropriate choice of soloist for music with movements titled “Blues”, “Tango” and “Bebop” - with a cadenza thrown in for good measure. (I read in the booklet this piece was originally a commission in 1961 for a bassoonist, which explains the instrumentation.) The playing is characterful and thoroughly idiomatic, but hearing the bassoon in these styles just wasn’t really convincing musically. The final Bebop, curiously, was the best, where somehow the bassoon and strings are great partners. The music is so good, I almost wish Marsalis would rescore it for a different instrumental soloist.
 
Both of these new albums offer adventurous programs - expertly played and recorded in clear, detailed, articulate sound. Moreover, the Passacaille productions are first-rate - including informative program notes, complete recording details, and imaginative, positively irresistible cover art. Highly recommended.

One wonders why. 

​Why record more Mozart symphonies? What’s special about these that merits a recording of them? BIS is apparently embarking on a complete cycle with clarinet player-turned conductor Michael Collins and the Philharmonia Orchestra. So let’s give this a listen and see what's special about Michael Collins on the podium.
 
Focusing on the outer movements, these readings are certainly vigorous but not necessarily invigorating. They sound rather driven and lacking in charm and finesse. And BIS emphasizes this impression with boisterous recorded sound, slimming down the Philharmonia's usual body of tone. This sounds more like a chamber orchestra to me; indeed one would never guess this is the Philharmonia Orchestra.
 
I find this odd. This is one of the best orchestras in the world which could never possibly be described as sounding “thin”. So why do they sound that way here? I perceive a sufficient number of strings, and Collins mercifully does not insist they play with any suggestion of “period performance” techniques. Thus the strings (and woodwinds) play with vibrato. But I miss warmth. Tempos are very swift (which under normal circumstances would be a good thing) but there isn’t a joyful impetus to them. Speeds are fast merely because the conductor is beating time that way. 

However, the inner movements fare better. Collins relaxes his grip on the rigid tempos, allowing various solos and instrumental choirs time to shape musical phrases. The playing gains expressiveness, though I still miss a sense of singing lines. For even here, there is a matter-of-fact directness which merely gets to the point and moves on to the next bustling Allegro. 
 
As a whole, I would describe Collins' way with these symphonies as determined rather than inspired. This is vigorous, heartless, no-nonsense Mozart which is rather lacking in sheer joy. The Philharmonia dutifully plays all the notes with expert precision at the speeds in which they are led, but the orchestra lacks much of the warmth and color we expect from them. The stunning immediacy of the recorded sound tends to exacerbate this effect, highlighting the whiplash dynamics and hard banging timpani - emphasizing the noisy, busyness of the scores. Whether this is all Collins' doing, or the BIS engineers, or the slightly dry hall acoustic - I cannot say. I suspect it's a concerted combination of all three.

One wonders why Collins decided to record this series with the Philharmonia rather than the orchestra he most often conducts, the Swedish Chamber Orchestra. If he's intent upon making the Philharmonia sound like a chamber orchestra, then why bother with them at all? In a very crowded field, I was attracted to this new recording primarily because it is played by the Philharmonia Orchestra. But this is far from big-band Mozart. And frankly, there are countless other recordings played by true chamber orchestras which offer a more rewarding musical experience than this - if that's what you're looking for.  

​I’ve been disappointed with Pentatone lately - for good reason. (Please see my blog for reviews.) However, this latest release is a bit different. And a lot better than what I’ve been hearing from the label so far this year. For two primary reasons: 1) It’s the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, which is in superb form these days; and 2) it’s conducted by Stephane Deneve, who is a superb conductor and always impresses me with his every recording.
 
Right from the first Allegro, one immediately recognizes the orchestra is engaged, enthusiastic and dynamic - which is an enormous improvement over the disinterested San Francisco Symphony in Pentatone's recent release of the Bartok Piano Concertos. And Deneve imbues these two pieces with vitality, musical insight and a real understanding of the very essence of the music. They come alive as never before. 
 
And then there’s James Ehnes. I love his rich, resonant, wooden tone (not as husky as Zukerman's, but in the same ballpark). But let’s be honest, he’s not the most exciting player. He can be a little sleepy on record. But not here. Deneve takes charge of the proceedings, commands the attention of everyone involved, and encourages real spirit in his playing. (Just as he did with the Jussen brothers in their 2017 recording of the Poulenc Double Concerto on DG).

Simply put, these performances of both works are inspiring and full of life. Moreover, they display a stimulating sense of new discovery. And that’s actually quite an achievement, because both of these pieces are a little reserved rather than outwardly flashy. Consequently, the Bernstein isn’t all that frequently recorded (though two excellent ones come immediately to mind - Gluzman and Neschling on BIS [2009] and Brian Lewis and Hugh Wolff on Delos [2006]), and this is only the second recording of the Williams concerto (in its revised, present form). So a fresh new recording of both is most welcome.
 
Bernstein’s Serenade has always struck me as an unusual piece. It can seem a bit too serious for a serenade; and featuring a solo violin, it's not a full-scale violin concerto either. But it is so characterful, delightful and full of vitality as played here, it succeeds at being both.
 
Ehnes is the perfect violinist in the opening Lento - his tone sweet and rich at the same time, beautifully singing in the aching, soaring melodic lines. The Allegro marcato then instantly springs to life, as the orchestra (scored for strings and percussion only) asserts itself with authority, with the violin dancing around them delightfully. This continues into the Allegretto before the capricious Presto takes off on an exciting, almost breathless jaunt - marked by perky spiccato. 
 
A lengthy Adagio leads into an even lengthier finale, which begins very severely, but soon erupts into a drunken discourse with unmistakable, jazzy influences reminiscent of Bernstein’s music for the film On the Waterfront - written the same year (1954). And the molto vivace final section brings the piece to a rousing conclusion.

Deneve infuses each movement with a thoroughly idiomatic, traditionally American flavor which is unmistakably Leonard Bernstein. I’ve never heard the piece sound so delightful, or all that exciting. Or, for that matter, not even all that distinctively “Bernstein”. But all that changes in this performance. It is so full of fervent melodies and infectious, jazzy dance rhythms, Bernstein's unique character shines through, revealing this to be one his finer symphonic creations. And with James Ehnes as a spirited soloist - well, this is a real surprise.

John Williams' (1st) Violin Concerto, written 20 years later (coincidentally premiered by the St. Louis Symphony), is a fine piece too - at least in this recording of it. I thought it was a bit reticent in Gil Shaham’s 2001 DG recording of the 1998 revised version, and I was never completely convinced or overly impressed with it. But in this new reading, it is full of an impassioned, emotional outpouring of rhapsodic singing lines and rich harmonies which was somewhat curtailed in the earlier reading - perhaps in an effort to make it a more "important", “serious” work rather than just a trifle from a “film composer".
 
And again, just as in the Bernstein, James Ehnes is perfect in the opening Moderato - resplendent in the singing lines. It is a bit too long for sure, especially as it is followed by a similar, slow-moving central movement, where Ehnes' sweetness of tone is exquisite in a peaceful, contemplative way (as indicated in the score).
 
In the final movement, which at last provides some much needed liveliness, Deneve unabashedly brings out the unmistakable John Williams element in the opening, with chimes and percussion announcing its arrival, and later with golden, chordal brass. That may sound like a strange observation, but the piece really doesn’t sound much like John Williams (at least not the John Williams of E.T.) - until here. I have always thought John Williams tries too determinedly to NOT sound like himself in his non-film scores, so it is refreshing to hear a bit of the John Williams we know and love in his violin concerto. 
 
The piece is still rather unassuming, and really could use a Scherzo in between the two slow opening movements. But it is so much more engaging and coherent in this new recording, it gains in significance and becomes more musically satisfying. It is certainly infinitely more interesting and musically substantive than Williams’ dismal 2nd Concerto written for Anne-Sophie Mutter in 2022, whose recording of it on DG is truly abysmal.

This Pentatone release is a bit of a melange. According to the booklet, the two pieces were recorded 4 years apart, each with a different recording production. The Bernstein was recorded in November, 2019 by the St. Louis Symphony team, and the Williams in January, 2023 by Pentatone. Remarkably, the recorded sound is excellent on both occasions. Why they are just now appearing (together) on this CD is a bit of a mystery, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Both pieces are superbly played and they make perfect discmates.
 
I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this nearly as much as I did. It is a wonderful recording in every way and a very pleasant surprise.

The Miro Quartet has been around since 1995, and astonishingly, 3 out of 4 of their long-standing members (since 1997) are still part of the group today. (The current 2nd violinist joined them in 2011). They haven't made many recordings over the years, but two are exceptional. Their 2003 recording of George Crumb’s Black Angels (part of the “Complete George Crumb Edition” on Bridge Records) is surely the most successful CD version - musically and technically - I have heard. It is simply awesome. And so is their complete set of Beethoven quartets, recorded over a 15-year period (2004-2019) - compiled by Pentatone from various sources and reissued in a terrific box set on their own label in 2019.
 
This new disc is, curiously, a local radio production (recorded at an Austin classical radio station) which Pentatone is distributing on CD with their logo (similar to their recent Bartok Piano Concertos CD which was recorded by the local San Francisco Symphony team). It is an innovative and attractive program featuring two commissions - from Kevin Puts and Caroline Shaw.
 
The Puts work, “Home”, is cast in 3 continuous sections, the first of which is melancholy and full of anguish - made more so by the frequent use of rolled quadruple-stopped chords, exaggerated for maximum dramatic and emotional effect. The 2nd section lightens instantly, glistening with harmonic motifs over rugged rhythmic pulses. The music becomes quite dissonant along the way (perhaps a little too deliberately) before leading into the final section, marked “dangerously fast”. This is rather more minimalistic in origin - attractively so - but doesn’t sound especially “dangerous” or even all that fast. However, it establishes a more unique voice, including some wild glissandos and intense ¼-tone outbursts, which is quite engaging. There are some achingly expressive passages in the violins too, and the piece closes with some more elongated, multi-stopped chordal sighs similar to those heard in the first movement. This is an effective and interesting piece, if ultimately not really memorable.
 
A bigger disappointment comes with the new Caroline Shaw work, whose music typically brings something fresh and novel. But here we're confronted with spoken dialogue in the form of poems recited by an anonymous female voice (unidentified anywhere in the production) before each section of music (7 in all). I personally never like spoken word as part of a music program in any circumstance, but it is especially intrusive and annoying here because nothing prepares you for it. No "narrator" is named in the credits, and nowhere is it revealed that recited poems are a part of the piece. (Even the program notes are vague about it.) Worst of all, they are not individually tracked, so it's impossible to skip over them and just get to the music.
 
The poem readings are mercifully short (and so are the bits of music which follow them) but made even more annoying as spoken in a florid, up-close sotto voce. Unfortunately, the music itself isn't all that interesting. It’s not as creative or imaginative as we have come to expect from Shaw. Oh, she employs all the identifying characteristics from her usual bag of tricks - bow scratchings, portamentos, quarter-tones, tonal harmonies coming out of noisy effects, etc. - so we definitely know it’s her. But there just isn’t much musical substance to it.
 
I found it interesting reading the Miro Quartet’s comments in the booklet that they had Zoom meetings with the composer during which they made "suggestions" - and at one point had to ask her to take out her violin and demonstrate for them some “unique string technique” she specifies in the score so they could understand what it was she was asking for.
 
At some point, enough is enough with it. Just write good music.
 
The most satisfying piece on the program is surely George Walker's Adagio from his 1st String Quartet (more familiarly known as Lyric for Strings in its version for string orchestra). It is beautifully played here, and how I wish they had played the entire quartet rather than Barber’s. The catalog could really use a new recording of the complete work.
 
The Miro Quartet's reading of the Barber Quartet is a chore - certainly not one I will ever return to again. I found it a little detached and uninvolving (where is the fervor in the opening appassionato?), burdened with slowish tempos in all three movements - extraordinarily so in the famous Adagio, which has so little forward momentum it hardly has a pulse. And when the big climax finally arrives, we hear some rather strange melodramatic, emotive, accented impulses which just don't sound right. To illustrate just how seriously slow this Adagio is, in this movement alone, the Miro Quartet takes almost 3 minutes longer (!) than the Emersons (DG) and Yings (Sono Luminus), 2 minutes longer than the Dovers (on YouTube), and well over a minute longer than the very leisurely Escher Quartet on BIS. 
 
Coming after the Molto Allegro/Presto conclusion of the Barber (which isn't molto or presto), the program inexplicably ends with an arrangement of “Over the Rainbow” for no conceivable or musically justifiable reason. Why they put it there is beyond comprehension. It is a lovely thing - exquisitely intimate and lovingly played - but so absurdly out of place here at the end of the concert.
 
Pentatone has long since abandoned their dedication to state-of-the-art DSD/SACD recorded sound (which is what put them on the map in the first place), and this release is a standard stereo CD which isn't even recorded by them. Considering the source, the sound is quite good - though I thought the group sounded a bit “confined” at times, and the acoustic could become a bit congested and dense in the more intense moments. A little more air and spaciousness would have been beneficial.
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Pentatone continues in strange directions, as evidenced by many of their recent releases. This one might have had potential - accomplished playing, some interesting music and attractive cover art. But with all the misgivings noted above, it is far from satisfactory.