The 'American Classics' series from Naxos is an amazing and invaluable treasure trove of musical riches. From women composers, to music from black composers, to wind band music, and so much else, often utilizing local musicians and orchestras, Naxos continues to give and give. I can think of no other label which consistently offers such a wealth of diversity and musical innovation.

This newest release is another terrific example. What a marvelous composer was William Grant Still! And this collection gives us another insightful look at his musical genius.

Naxos proclaims all these selections as "world premier recordings". However some of this music has been recorded before, but in different versions than these. Some were originally written for piano, or soloist and piano, and have subsequently been transcribed for various instruments and recorded. For example, there is a collection of arrangements for flute and piano of Summerland, Quit Dat Fool'nish, Pastorela and portions of the Violin Suite, recorded for Koch Records in 1994. On this Naxos CD, they are presented in versions for violin and orchestra, and they are glorious in this guise. All the remaining works are indeed, to the best of my knowledge, completely new to the collector, never before heard.

Every time I hear the music of William Grant Still, I find myself drawn into it in a way not usually associated with American music. I am reminded of another side of Americana, completely different from that of Aaron Copland, and much more similar to George Gershwin. Still's music has less of the wide open spaces of Copland, and none of his characteristic "hoe-down" evocations. It is more songful and mournfully expressive, reminiscent of Gershwin's Porgy and Bess. Indeed the selections here which feature the violin were written around the same time as Porgy (1938).

There are also hints of the jazzier side of Gershwin (his American in Paris, for example) in the opening track, Can't You Line 'Em, and the Dance movement of American Suite.

If Copland is most known for his use of folksong, Still, in his own distinctive compositional voice, favors the deeper emotions of Spirituals, with endless singing lines which are sometimes hopeful with anticipation, other times mournful, with the burden of anguish. And in general, there is less of the jazz and blues influences heard in Gershwin. 

For this Naxos release, mother and daughter (violinist Zina Schiff and conductor Avlana Eisenberg) team up to provide a thoroughly enjoyable concert, full of variety and imagination, in expressive and thoroughly idiomatic performances. The program is equally divided between the purely orchestral and those for solo violin and orchestra.

The opening piece for orchestra is lively and outdoorsy, before settling in for the more contemplative thoughtfulness which follows. Solo violin is featured in Summerland and Fool'nish, which are perfect companions, delightfully contrasted in mood - the former songful, the latter animated and cheerful. Pastorela and the Violin Suite are substantial works for the violin, with endless tunes, much variety and expansive development. Schiff plays all this music with a natural expressiveness which doesn't become overly passionate or dramatic, but displays a simple, sing-song sweetness of tone which is just perfect for this music.

Conductor Avlana Eisenberg takes control for the delightful American Suite and Serenade for orchestra, both of which invoke the very essence of American music, with beautiful, memorable tunes and colorfully descriptive atmospheres. The final work is an impressive tribute to Sibelius, which is indeed reminiscent of that composer. I loved how Still invokes Sibelius while infusing it with his own unique sound. 

Many listeners will be familiar with William Grant Still via his fantastic Afro-American Symphony, which is probably his most famous (and most frequently recorded) work. Naxos has released several discs of his Symphonies, but this latest program provides a glimpse into Still's lighter side. What impresses me most about this music is not only its creativity and heart-felt tunefulness, but its symphonic splendor. Still was a highly skilled orchestrator, showcasing his melodic prowess to great advantage. 

Overall, this composer could not have better advocates than what we have here. The playing of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra is, as ever, superbly accomplished and musically involving, and they are expertly led by Avlana Eisenberg. Violinist Zina Schiff met Still in her youth and brings an obvious love and authenticity to the proceedings. And the ever-reliable Naxos label provides excellent recorded sound throughout. I did note a more relaxed and atmospheric spaciousness to the purely orchestra works, and a decidedly more upfront immediacy to those with violin soloist, which is perhaps too closely mic'd. (Track 10, for instance, jolts one alert with quite a volume level boost after the serene Serenade). It's not serious, just unnecessary. 

In sum, this is a thoroughly delightful and musically enriching CD. I enjoyed it so much I've listened to it, in its entirety, 3 times already! And that almost never happens with a new release. I recommend it with the utmost enthusiasm.

This is the 2nd important release of relatively rare repertoire from Chandos and the adventurous Kaleidoscope Chamber Collective. This time they explore the chamber music of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor. This CD has already garnered many praises, and rightfully so. However, as esteemed as it is, I really must address the elephant in the room, and speak honestly about what I hear.

Yes the music is wonderful. And we owe the Kaleidoscope Chamber Collective (and Chandos Records) a debt of gratitude for recording it and bringing it to life. However, there are some problems, especially in the Nonet.

I'm not sure if it's a lack of blend with this group, who seem to embrace the soloistic approach to ensemble playing, with each and every member vying for attention as if in a concerto. Or if it's a too-close microphone placement from the recording engineers. Or, more likely, a little bit of both. But the result, at least in the Nonet, is a lack of refinement which tends to make the music sound a little hokey. And, frankly, a touch rowdy. 

From the very opening measures, just listen to the exposition when, within a few seconds, the horn comes blasting in at fortissimo, completely out of context, practically drowning out the other musicians. There must be a microphone right in front of his bell. Or perhaps he isn't used to playing chamber music. But whatever the reason, it is startling and quite disruptive.

But not to be too hard on the poor horn player (who is excellent, by the way), the more I listen I realize it's not his fault. Chandos is to blame here. I also hear an unnatural prominence from the clarinet, then the oboe. In fact, all through the Nonet, the bold, upfront, close perspective would suggest (and demonstrate) that each player is very closely mic'd and the overall balance is being manipulated by the control room. Not only does this soundstage all but obliterate atmosphere and blend, they've contrived a weird balance. The strings are severely overpowered by the winds and it's difficult to hear their contribution, except occasionally when the violin soars into the highest octaves. And, conversely, the piano is so backwardly balanced, it is often lost back in the mix, practically inaudible when the winds are playing. Making matters worse, dynamics are restricted to a constant mf-ff range, with precious little truly soft playing, which eventually becomes a bit tiring on the ear.

The remaining movements suffer similarly, although it sounds as if the microphones were adjusted slightly - but not enough. The strings have gained a bit more prominence and, unfortunately, a grainy texture as well. And the piano is still too recessed. The soundstage is a flat wall of sound, still with no air or space around the musicians, and no sense of the acoustic in which they play.  

As to the music itself, this is a wonderful piece. In fact, it is bursting with so many memorable tunes I found myself humming them for days. But full appreciation for all its musical riches is somewhat hampered. The recording plays a part, certainly, but perhaps the scoring itself is not expertly accomplished. Remember, all three of these works were written while Coleridge-Taylor was a student at the Royal College of Music in London.

Determined to discover what might be the problem here, I found on my shelves another recording of this Nonet (the only other one I know of) on a 2004 CD from Centaur Records. Listening to it anew, I am happy to confirm there are no inadequacies in the orchestration by the composer. For I hear an almost entirely different piece of music from Kelly Burke and friends on Centaur. The ensemble plays with a lovely blend, bringing out individual lines when important, then playing together as if one musician. The recorded sound is more relaxed and spacious too, in a well-defined acoustic, and is remarkably detailed. And as a result, the music sings! Rapturous tunes soar heavenward, inner details intrigue (all those piano arpeggios are delightful), and everywhere the music is enchanting, imbued with lovely phrasing. All of which brings a whole new dimension and interest to the piece, with so much color and variety.  

Ultimately, this performance of the Nonet succeeds because it sounds like chamber music. Which it is. Going back to Chandos, the Kaleidoscope Collective seems to be trying too hard to sound like a symphony orchestra. And they lose the intimacy of communication, struggling to make this something more than it is.

So while I'm still perplexed by what I hear on Chandos, I ultimately must accept what I suggested earlier - it's both the playing and the recorded sound which are just not quite right in this piece.

Moving on to the Trio (for violin, cello and piano), which comes next on the program, the difference in recorded perspective is remarkable. We are transported, literally, to a completely different world. The sound here is instantly more relaxed, atmospheric and positively lovely. Balance between strings and piano is now more natural, as are dynamic contrasts. With some distance now evident between the players and the listener, the resultant spaciousness brings a smoother, less grainy string tone and the playing takes on an expressive sweetness. The music positively glows, making this without doubt the highlight of the entire program. 

The closing Piano Quintet falls somewhere in between with regard to recorded sound - certainly more forward than the Trio, but more naturally balanced than the Nonet. The piano is better delineated in the acoustic, although still not quite given the realistic size and presence it should. The strings are given a strong prominence, almost too forward, with a touch of coarse-grained texture. It adds a certain intensity to the playing which I'm not sure does the music any favors. It is a sound very similar to that heard on this group's earlier (2021) Chandos CD, American Quintets, of which I had similar criticisms. However, it is not detrimental to musical enjoyment; one can fully appreciate what an accomplished (and important) work this is. But I'd sure like to hear it in a better recording.

In sum, it is glorious to have this release of some wonderful music from a neglected composer. And I really do like the Kaleidoscope Chamber Collective. However, I'm not entirely convinced the relationship with Chandos is a happy one. For here we have 2 CDs, both with innovative and invaluable musical programs and engaging playing, both hampered to varying degrees by unflattering sound.

After recently listening to Deneve's glorious 2012 Debussy set on Chandos, I was eager to hear his Ravel, recorded around the same time (2012-14). Unfortunately, a change of orchestra and record label puts it in an entirely different league.

It is lamentable that Deneve and the Chandos production team didn't continue recording with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra for this Ravel project. Instead, Deneve utilizes the Stuttgart Radio Symphony, of which he was principal conductor at the time, and its local record label, SWR Media Services. 

I had intended to prepare an extensive, in-depth review of this set after being so thoroughly impressed with the Debussy. But after listening to several of the orchestral selections, I decided there simply wasn't enough to discuss in a comprehensive overview. So I will just touch on a few observations which inform the entire set and let it be. 

This is an attractively-priced, 5-disc box of previously released CDs. There are 3 discs of purely orchestral music, followed by 2 discs of opera and vocal music, with a suite from Mother Goose appended at the very end of disc 5, completely out of place all by itself after an opera. Its inclusion is odd, as the complete ballet appears on disc 2, and its placement puzzling. 

Oddities continue with the enclosed booklet. While there is a detailed track listing and exhaustive details about the recording sessions (dates, locations, producers, engineers, etc.), there is not a word about the music or the composer. (Although they do manage to include bios of the conductor and orchestra.) 

And while I'm at it, I thought the picture on the front cover was, frankly, a bit creepy. But that's just me.

So while not impressed with the production itself, the music is what's important, and Deneve's talents shine forth. However, there is no denying the Stuttgart Radio Symphony is no match for the Royal Scottish National. As good as they are, they simply lack the consummate refinement and prowess of the very best orchestras, despite some very good playing. Nor can SWR come anywhere close to the state-of-the-art recording quality typical of Chandos, or many other labels for that matter.

Beginning with Le Tombeau de Couperin, I was pleased to hear how delightful, gracious and well-played it is. I heard good things in Alborada del Gracioso and Rapsodie espagnole too. But it didn't take long before it became painfully obvious the recorded sound was going to be a big problem. For in crescendos and tutti passages, the sound darkens and compresses, and the acoustic becomes claustrophobic and stifling. 

Curiously, inner detail is petty good, with some obvious help from the control room providing judicious spotlighting. And dynamics are also pretty good. There is impressive power in the bass region, with full-bodied presence from lower strings and some truly dramatic bass drum whacks. But the sound suffers insurmountably in the highs, seriously lacking sparkle, air and spaciousness. It's as if there is a blanket on top of the entire treble region and the sound struggles to open up and expand effortlessly into the hall.

These sonic impressions varied in severity from piece to piece, no doubt indicative of the different recording sessions involved, where perhaps minor adjustments were being made.

But, as ever, Deneve is marvelous. I really like the way he commands crisp, incisive articulation from his orchestra, especially in those works written originally for piano. For example, Alborada and Rapsodie espagnol are very impressive for their precision of playing. And yet, he also relishes the elements of orchestration which can only be accomplished by a symphony orchestra, such as string glissandi and the endless variety of tonal shadings and dynamic contrasts. The results are alluring, engaging and often very exciting. If only the recorded sound was more flattering. 

And while the orchestral playing is very good, there are times when it can sound a bit labored. I noticed it only occasionally, and the final danse generale (Bacchanale) of Daphnis and Chloe sounds a touch clumsy (taken at a quite reasonable tempo, by the way). The recording certainly doesn't help, making it all sound rather noisy and far from exciting.

I decided to call it quits there with only some spot checks on the rest. I didn't try the two operas, which aren't my specialty anyway. And I didn't bother with the Mother Goose suite, which is clearly an afterthought, all but forgotten at the very end after the operas.

After recently hearing (and reviewing) two splendid SACDs of Ravel's music from John Wilson (Chandos) and Oramo (BIS), this CD set from Deneve is disappointing. The recorded sound from Chandos and BIS simply blows away what SWR manages to produce. And that is a real shame. This could (and should) have been an excellent collection. Nonetheless, if you are more tolerant of poor recorded sound than I, there is a lot of good music-making on offer here. And maybe it sounds better on some stereo systems than others. But for me, it inhibited full musical enjoyment.

I got to know Stephane Deneve from his glorious set of Roussel recordings for Naxos (2006-2010, 5 CDs) and his sensational trio of discs of music by Guillaume Connesson - 2 on DG (2016/18) and one on Chandos (2010). In Roussel, Deneve brings the music to life as never before, and Naxos provides shockingly good sound. In Connesson, he champions this incredible composer with riveting authority and brilliance - revealing his music to be positively dazzling and thoroughly irresistible. DG's recorded sound is stunning, as is the SACD from Chandos. (Incidentally, there is a 3rd CD on DG of this great composer's music as well, conducted by Jean-Christophe Spinosi.)

Deneve is also a splendid companion in concertos. He is an energetic and commanding presence on two of my favorite Poulenc recordings - with Eric Le Sage in the Piano Concerto, Two Piano Concerto and Aubade (2003/04, RCA), and with the Jussen brothers in the Double on DG (2017). He brings a level of orchestral precision and powerful support not often heard in concerto recordings.

So when SWR Classics recently collected together Deneve's complete Ravel recordings into an attractively priced boxed set, I jumped on it, puzzled why I hadn't explored these recordings, in their individual releases, before. (And I hope to review it in the near future.)

But while waiting for that to arrive, I found on my shelves Deneve's 2-disc Debussy collection for Chandos (2012, SACD), which I have no lasting memory of. That usually indicates I found it rather unremarkable. (Or maybe I just wasn't really in the mood for it at the time.) So now was a good time to give it a fresh listen while waiting for the Ravel to arrive. And I have just one word for it - WOW! How could I have overlooked this wonderful recording all this time?

Deneve's Debussy is simply some of the best I have ever heard, fully equal to the superb collection from Lan Shui on BIS, released around the same time (more below). Even compared with illustrious classics from Haitink (Concertgebouw/Philips), Boulez (Cleveland/DG), Dutoit (Montreal/Decca) and Previn (LSO/EMI), these two modern collections stand out.

Oh, for certain, Deneve has the benefit of superlative recorded sound - absolutely some of the best ever from Chandos (and a prime demonstration of the superiority of DSD recording techniques over standard red-book CD). Deneve also has the benefit of the wonderful Royal Scottish National Orchestra at his fingertips. And often times, these two factors are enough to constitute a good/successful recording these days. (I think immediately of John Wilson. Let's be frank - the real success of John Wilson's recordings lies with the playing of his incredible, hand-picked orchestra and the glamorous Chandos sound far and above the talents inherent in the conducting itself.) Deneve, on the other hand, displays rare musical insight, vision and true inspiration.

And his Debussy is simply intoxicating. All through my listening, I hear a ravishing orchestral response, in complete affinity with their conductor. Everywhere, the music soars with rapturous, singing lines in an almost operatic way. Yet there is also a transparency and atmospheric spaciousness which are simply incredible. The dynamic swells are masterfully executed, at once dramatic and eloquent, with purpose and direction within an overall scope, always at the service of the spirit and letter of the score. I even hear the exquisiteness of Ravel in places. The unified rapport between this orchestra and this conductor is a wonder to behold - rarely experienced, particularly on a recording.

Getting into the program itself - if one were to begin listening with La Mer, you might think my praises for this release are surely misguided, for this is the one relative disappointment of the set. And the Chandos engineers are largely to blame. Compared to the rest of the program, the sound here is a bit "misty" and distant, details are muffled and dynamics a little cramped. Deneve is up to snuff, though, with a musical expression which is elegant, naturally flowing and refreshingly unfussy. However, musical involvement is curtailed by the lack of sparkle and titillating details. The ending of the 1st section lacks power. And in the 3rd, there is no menace in the thunderstorms brewing at the beginning and the ending fails to produce enough adrenaline to get the blood pumping. Just listen to Lan Shui's exciting reading on BIS to hear what this one is missing.

Fortunately the attentive engineers caught the problems early on and made the necessary adjustments. Listening next to Nocturnes, the difference in recorded sound is striking. Suddenly the acoustic is much clearer. Details now emerge with clarity and focus, and the dynamic range is restored to its full splendor, allowing climaxes to open up and fill the hall effortlessly. And, amazingly, the acoustic is just as colorfully atmospheric and gorgeous as before, but now more spacious, airy and 3-dimensional.

And with it we behold the most glorious Nocturnes ever recorded. Listening to it here, the incredible soundworld Debussy creates with his magnificently innovative, forward-thinking orchestration is simply astonishing. I am amazed this was written as early as 1897! And I can't help but wonder if Stravinsky and Dutilleux could have evolved into the composers they were to become without Debussy before them.

So what makes this Nocturnes especially revelatory? Well, to start with, Deneve's understanding of the piece is everything we could hope for, with a true vision of the overall structure of the piece and a natural unfolding of the musical lines. Tempos, always such an important element, are perfectly judged. The 1st and 3rd movements move along with a natural flow and fluid elasticity which isn't stretched forward and back unnecessarily. And conversely, Fetes isn't too fast - proving it doesn't have to be hectic and breathless to be festive. 

Each of the three movements is illuminated with its own unique character, individuality and atmosphere. Nuages transports us to a spacious, uninhabited landscape, but with orchestral colors in full bloom. And the English Horn solo is at once plaintive and sensuous. Fetes is gossamer and alive, dancing so merrily I envisioned a ballet troupe springing aloft. And for once, the central section, with its foretelling of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring (Ritual Action of the Ancestors), is not an awkward tempo adjustment, but a natural progression which Deneve masterfully comes out of and flows back into the recapitulation without a stumbling of pace, which is so often the case.

And finally we come to Sirenes. In this performance, the women's chorus creates a most incredible out-of-this-world atmosphere, sung perfectly in tune, and with a hushed vibrancy which is simply exquisite. Further, they are interpolated into the orchestral texture as rarely experienced. The chorus is distanced back into the mists, yet glows with perfect focus and "presence". The accomplishment of the Chandos engineers cannot be praised highly enough. I have never heard a more successful recording of this piece than this one. 

Another fantastic performance here is the complete Images. Deneve is dazzling, conjuring up picturesque characterization and energetic involvement, perfumed with the intoxicating aroma and flavor of Tuscany. Gigues features a real oboe d'amore, and the 3rd section of Iberia (jour de fete) is as exciting as La Mer should have been, energized by exuberant tempos and the glittering, positively cinematic recording.

The glories of the set continue with Jeux and Printemps, brought brilliantly to life. Deneve continues to deliver vivid characterization, sweeping musical lines and many felicitous details which usually go by unnoticed.

Equally treasurable are the least-known (or should I say, "least-popular") works: March ecossaise,  2 orchestral movements from the cantata L'Enfant prodique, and Berceuse heroique. All wonderful indeed.

This is some of the most musically moving, masterful and thoroughly enraptured Debussy I can ever remember hearing. And though La Mer falls behind in distinction, it certainly isn't bad. It's just a little bland. But if it is your primary interest, there are other more rewarding accounts to be found, including the very exciting one from Shui (details next).

As to comparisons, I can be brief. There is really only one other recent set of recordings which I enjoyed as much - that from Lan Shui on BIS. His collection is more encompassing, expanding to 3 discs, and includes 2 major works Deneve doesn't - Khamma and La Boite a Joujoux (The Toy Box). And how fabulous they are! We also get gems such as the Saxophone Rapsodie and Danses Sacree et Profane. 

Overall, Shui's Debussy is quite simply riveting - superbly played by the Singapore Symphony Orchestra and very well recorded. When compared with Deneve, Shui is even more colorful, luxurious and sometimes more leisurely. He can take his time to caress a phrase and love on the music a little more often than Deneve does, with an emphasis on lavish refinement. But Shui is often more exciting too, with tingling details always on display and a wide dynamic range. The variety and life he brings to this music is stunning. And BIS affords him gorgeous sound, which at the same time is even more detailed and dynamic than the Chandos.  

Both sets are equally treasurable, illuminating and musically rewarding. And with superlative, state-of-the-art SACD sound, both should be considered absolutely indispensable. I do hope Deneve will eventually record a 3rd disc of Debussy's music to supplement his collection.

Michael Collins seems to be stuck in a rut. This is his third recording of the Mozart Clarinet Concerto. Why?

I suppose I could stop writing right here, because you probably know exactly where I'm going with this. But since I've started, I'll provide a little more detail on this release.

Michael Collins's first stab at the Mozart Concerto was, oddly, with Pletnev and the Russian National Orchestra for DG in 2000. I have not heard it, as that seemed to be a dubious team for Mozart, and more importantly because its coupling is rather absurd  - a transcription for clarinet of the Beethoven Violin Concerto. This release was a real head-scratcher.

Jump ahead 13 years and Collins records the Mozart again - this time with the terrific Swedish Chamber Orchestra for Chandos. And it is superb - one of the best performances of it I've heard. Not only that, the couplings are equally fabulous - Copland's Concerto (superbly idiomatic, jazzy and very exciting), plus a new work by Elena Kats-Chernin, Ornamental Air, which is really fantastic. This Chandos release has been my go-to for both the Mozart and the Copland Clarinet Concertos, replete with truly excellent clarinet playing, orchestral support and superlative sound. 

So I was perplexed to see the Mozart showing up yet again from Michael Collins, in 2022 on BIS. After such a successful recording just 9 years prior, why take it up again - for the 3rd time?

Seeing it coupled this time around with the same composer's Clarinet Quintet (which Collins hadn't recorded before) sort of makes sense and I ordered it anyway. I was especially intrigued that the program also includes a new concerto written especially for him by cellist (and composer) Richard Birchall (b.1984), which looked very interesting.

I started with the Birchall and found it to be extremely accomplished and expertly orchestrated. The first movement, Metamorphosis, begins most promisingly with a palpable sense of anticipation. Hints of Copland's Clarinet Concerto appear along the way before the central Allegro takes flight. The energy builds with increasing momentum and some engaging interplay between soloist and orchestra ensues. I thought the occasional clarinet lip-slurs and growls were perhaps a bit overdone and out of character for the piece, but the imaginative and energetic orchestral contribution countered it.

The slow movement, Still Life, is a melancholy interlude which is perhaps a tad overlong. Thematic motifs, while melodic, are not quite melodious or musically memorable. It doesn't help that Collins's lowest register is not terribly beautiful in tone - there is an odd "honk" to it down there throughout. However, the colorful orchestration compensates, and some curious string glissandi and flute flutter-tonguing caught my attention. The finale, Impossible Construction, takes off in a motoric, perpetual-motion way. Its rhythmic, driving energy is instantly engaging and the jazz flavoring compelling. It sounds to be quite challenging to play and Michael Collins accommodates its difficulties with ease and bravura.

Taken as a whole, the work is interesting, colorfully orchestrated and musically rewarding - if ultimately not particularly memorable.

Anxious to get to the Mozart, which is the primary interest for me, I started with the Quintet. Sadly it is disappointing. Despite a sweetness to the string playing and some attractive ornamentation here and there, it ultimately is rather routine. Tempos are unremarkable and some musical point-making, particularly in the 1st movement, is a little fussy. I longed for more spontaneity, variety and unbridled joy in the playing.

Hoping matters would improve in the Concerto, alas, it is more of the same - routine and uninspired. The orchestra plays with a relaxed sweetness, but curiously sounds a little self-conscious about it. And I hear a bit of unsteadiness in some of the clarinet passagework as well - less rhythmically precise and crisply articulated than I'm used to hearing. It is an efficient read-through but precious little more. 

At this point I was beginning to wonder if I had overrated Michael Collins's previous Mozart recording for Chandos. Revisiting the 2013 Chandos CD, one instantly hears the Swedish Chamber Orchestra usher in a fresher, much more crisply executed orchestral exposition, with more spontaneous and joyfully expressive playing. There is also a delightful graciousness and exquisite musical phrasing which the Philharmonia Orchestra can't match in the later reading. And at the clarinet entry, there is crisper articulation and a sense of joy and involvement not experienced on the BIS. Also evident is a lovely legato singing quality largely missing in the 2022 reading. Tempos seem livelier in all 3 movements, despite individual timings being surprisingly similar. 

Furthermore, as good as the recorded sound is on BIS, it is even better on Chandos. There is a luscious, airy, atmospheric acoustic on Chandos which is not only extremely pleasing, but expertly defined and superbly detailed as well. (It is interesting to consider the Chandos is CD-only while the BIS is a multi-channel SACD.)

Going back to the BIS one more time, it just sounds a little "mushy" in comparison with regard to articulation and slightly sluggish tempos. And while it is musical, it is less spontaneous and involving. The 3rd movement Rondo fares best, but there needed to be more life and energy in the Allegro 1st. (The same goes for the Quintet as well.)

The inclusion of the concerto here seems to be a producer's logic for filling up the disc. However, with a contemporary concerto already on the program, there is every reason to believe another concerto other than the Mozart would have been appropriate and infinitely more rewarding. Even another chamber work would have been most welcomed.

Incidentally, Collins plays the basset-clarinet (with its extended lower register down to a low C), on all three recordings.

In sum, I am glad to have heard Richard Birchall's splendid Concerto for Basset Clarinet. But sadly, I'm not sure it alone is enough to justify the purchase of this disc.   
​

So here's how I end up spending too much money on CDs. I hear a recording by an artist or group I really enjoy and then start exploring. And one thing leads to another and I discover a new composer or two. Such is the case with Richard Blackford. I stumbled upon a disc of his Violin Concerto and Clarinet Quintet played by members of Conchord, whose disc of Poulenc's chamber music I recently listened to. While not all that impressed with that disc of "serious" music, here I am with another disc of Blackford's music, which looks interesting and intriguing. 

I was afraid this program would be rather gimmicky too. And there certainly is an element of that to it. But I was actually pleasantly surprised.

Getting to it - Blackford's original music on offer here essentially sounds like movie music. It's descriptive and colorful and...well, perhaps not quite ready for the concert hall. The Great Animal Orchestra Symphony is comprised of 5 movements, which, taken as a whole, sounds very much like a good film score (music from John Williams to horror movie classics and everything in between came to mind frequently), combined with all sorts of pre-recorded wild animal and (mostly) bird sounds juxtaposed upon it. And when you know what to expect, and you know what's coming, it's not too objectionable.

A lot of the actual orchestral writing is very good - effective and interesting in a Jurassic Park kind of way, with all the bird calls. Unfortunately, the novelty of the animal sounds wears off quickly and becomes too much of a good thing real fast. And in the end, it simply goes on too long. What I did find objectionable, however, is the use of what the booklet identifies as a "Sampler" - some device which sounds very much like a flexatone - you know, that weird "percussion" instrument which sounds like a bowed handsaw, made popular in UFO movies from the 60s (and its unfortunate prominence in the slow movement of Khachaturian's Piano Concerto). The sound of it here seems out of place among nature and birds and a real orchestra. I thought it to be a completely unnecessary, additional noise intruding on the music. 

However, if you can listen past it, this is an enjoyable 30 minutes, perfect for playing in the background while cooking dinner or dusting. I found myself listening up quite often actually. Its colorful orchestration and atmosphere make it interesting and quite pleasant. To be perfectly honest, I'd love to hear this score without all the extra sounds ("noises"). As purely orchestral music, it sounds to be imaginative and appealing. And colorfully orchestrated.

The gimmickry continues next with a new, perhaps unnecessary re-orchestration for full symphony orchestra of Saint-Saens's Carnival of the Animals, in which the duo pianos are eliminated and rescored into the standard orchestral compliment. 

My initial thoughts on it are exactly the same as my feeling about "other" orchestrations of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition:
 - 1. It couldn't possibly have been conceived without a prior, intimate knowledge of Ravel's version; and
 - 2. Ravel's orchestration is so magnificent, it can't really be improved upon. So...why bother?

While I maintain Saint-Saens knew exactly what he was doing in this piece, this new version is actually better than expected. Blackford's accomplished and imaginative orchestration skills are on full display and many parts are quite effective. Others, though, not so much. 

As this transcription may likely be the primary draw for many (myself included), let me provide some brief observations.

Sections which respond very well to the full orchestral treatment:
Introduction/Royal March of the Lion; Hens & Roosters; Kangaroos (delightful woodwind filigree); Aquarium (with a harp providing the arpeggiated accompaniment), Cuckoo; and the Finale (which mercifully doesn't become too big and pompous with the full orchestra in play).

And the ones that don't:
Wild Asses (awfully cumbersome); Elephant (substituting a contrabassoon for the Bass Viol was ill-advised); Persons with Long Ears (the use of harsh, fortissimo violin tremolos was completely unnecessary); Pianists (which loses all meaning and relevance without the piano - contextually and musically - when played by an orchestra); Fossils (which oddly eschews the xylophone and instead uses violins for the main theme, which eliminates the sonic equivalent of bones clanking around. Why?!); and The Swan (scored for a horn and harp, which simply can't match the elegance and grace of a cello). 

Tortoises and Aviary are unremarkable.

While I can't see this version gaining favor with live orchestral programming, it certainly fits nicely with the theme of this CD. And as long as one doesn't take it too seriously, it's a lot of fun and a fascinating listen. 

Two aspects of this CD make it work even better than it might otherwise have.
1. The orchestra (BBC National Orchestra of Wales) is excellent and the conductor (Martyn Brabbins) is thoroughly committed to bringing it off.
2. The recorded sound is convincing and more natural than would be expected, given the source material of animal/bird sounds mixed in with a symphony orchestra. Only the wolf howls in track 3 sounded comparatively contrived, with an unnatural ambience.

Finally, Nimbus appends the program with a final track consisting of 21 long minutes of recorded conversations between composer and "wild soundscapes" producer, Bernie Krause. So, setting that aside as immaterial on an orchestral disc, we are left with only 53 minutes of actual music. Rather short measure in my estimation. Also worth noting, this album appears to be a CD-R production; however, it played perfectly in my very finicky SACD player and sounded excellent.

This disc is an entertaining enterprise and I give Mr. Blackford kudos for imagination and innovation. It does one good to lighten up a little bit and listen to something a little different once in awhile. And while I admit I really was dusting at times while listening, I found myself smiling often while it was playing. 

​This team has been producing some very popular and highly entertaining releases over the past few years. Chandos has tapped into a goldmine with John Wilson and his fabulous hand-picked orchestra. I've enjoyed many of their recordings, including - especially - their previous outing for strings (2021, English Music for Strings). This latest one for just the strings isn't quite as nice.

Right out of the gate, the introduction of the Strauss Metamorphosen seems uneventful and rather passionless. John Wilson's characteristic no-nonsense, nuts-and-bolts style is not terribly well-suited for Richard Strauss, I'm afraid. The music moves along without much affection and I longed for more communicative intimacy. 

And as it progresses, things start to get pretty intense - and busy during climactic sections. Wilson brings out much inner detail to the fore, which should be musically informative. Instead, it tends to become a loud and complex confusion of notes. And the recorded sound intensifies it further with forward, thick, roughly textured sound. I longed for more air and light-and-shadow contrast.

I don't know if this ensemble was perhaps trying too hard to sound "big" and missed the point of it all, or if Wilson just isn't a Strauss guy, but this piece (which admittedly is difficult to bring off) was disappointing. 

Schreker's Intermezzo is a bit intense too in its thickly-scored central section. But the music is lighter in the outer sections and more colorfully Romantic. And lasting just 6 minutes, it is much more pleasing.

By far the most enjoyable music here is Korngold's Symphonic Serenade for Strings. We know Wilson has a special affinity for Korngold based upon his previous two discs of that composer's music, and it is immediately apparent here. We hear deeper musical involvement, meaningful dynamic shadings and wonderful musical phrasing. The writing is endlessly varied and interesting, which responds very well to Wilson's straight-forward approach. 

The lilting opening movement is delightful in Wilson's hands, and the strings display a lyrical sweetness missing in the Strauss. The pizzicato 2nd movement is marvelously atmospheric and full of character, and the finale is very exciting and dramatic. Just listen to the opening motif on the low strings, which is quite arresting with its heavy bow-on-string presence - made perhaps larger-than-life by the close microphone placement.

And about the Chandos sound...it's still a bit over-rich in the midrange and thick, even boomy, in the bass. But overall, it is improved over the previous works - more spacious and not quite as uptight.

There are not many recordings of the Korngold and comparisons are interesting. Somewhat surprisingly, I actually prefer the recorded sound on the 1996 Chandos CD for Matthias Bamert and the BBC Philharmonic. It is at once fresher, more relaxed, lighter and infinitely cleaner. Another recording of the work I remember enjoying is a 1989 CD from Werner Albert and the Northwest German Philharmonic on CPO. However, listening to it again, despite it being very satisfying musically, it is not as well played or recorded as either Chandos.

So while some of this music is somewhat unnecessarily intense here (there is no better word for it), the Korngold is quite wonderful. I am puzzled, though, why Chandos strayed from the marvelous recorded sound heard on their English String Music SACD just a year earlier. This orchestra did not need any "help" from the engineers. Still, the program itself is enticing and the couplings unique. I always welcome new recordings of music not often encountered.

I will try to be as succinct as possible so as to not drag this out any more than necessary.

These two Mozart releases are intriguing in that they combine major Piano Concertos (#20-24) with the two Piano Quartets and the 3rd Trio, all composed during the two years represented on each 2-disc set. But that's the extent of the attraction. Alas, they are about as disappointing as you might expect coming from a major label intent upon promoting "star power". (Look no further than the cover art to affirm where the primary focus lies.)

Not that Leif Ove Andsnes isn't deserving of "star" status. He's a fine pianist. And he's dabbled in Mozart before (some of the middle Concertos for EMI in the early 2000s were actually pretty good). But I'm just not sure what he's trying to do here. He teams up with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra (which was likely much more conducive to his recent Beethoven Concertos project) and produces Mozart which sounds for all the world as if Mahler himself would have approved. This is Mozart on a grand scale, which is quite out of fashion these days. "Grand" in and of itself isn't necessarily bad, but Andsnes takes it too far into the Romantic period with dramatic heaviness, while SONY fattens it up with overripe recorded sound. One would never know this is a chamber orchestra. It's "big band" all the way, the likes of which Karajan would produce. And it weighs down the tempos and most definitely the mood. Just try getting through Concerto #24, for example, which is downright oppressive.

To be fair, this terrific orchestra plays with a reasonable amount of precision and articulation, but I'd never describe it as "crisp". Or transparent. And tempos are far from "alert". This is serious, pretentious Mozart - with a Mahlerian scale to it. And despite excellent piano playing, Andsnes seems determined to make this "old-fashioned" in all the wrong ways. 

Surely the chamber music fares better. Nope. It's almost worse. Not only are all the characteristics described above evident here, but the lack of joy and musical involvement is astonishing. SONY doesn't help, providing an up-close, airless, flat wall of sound, slightly grainy and diffuse, within a reverberant acoustic. 

There is one high point, though. Just one. Among 4 CDs packed full of Mozart, we are rewarded with 8 minutes worthy of the master - the finale of Concerto #23. After a lugubrious Adagio, (good lord, I have never heard it this lethargic), the music finally springs to life in the Allegro assai and at last I can describe the playing as crisp, alert and joyful. And with all that surrounds it, it is a glorious moment indeed. But it's but a brief respite.

​I know I'm being terribly hard on these recordings. But this is Mozart we became accustomed to (and learned to accept) back in the 70s. Today, in 2021/22, when these were issued, we deserve something more from a modern recording of these masterworks. Something fresh. With something relevant to say. Unfortunately, these SONY releases are none of that.

This 2-CD set of Poulenc's chamber music is not a new release but was assembled and released in 2011. However, I've just acquired it and the label (Champs Hill Records) and this group (London Conchord Ensemble) are both new to me. And what a pleasant surprise it is!

Eric Le Sage's landmark complete set for RCA has long been my go-to choice for all things Poulenc. Most of it was recorded in 1998; the Concertos in 2003. The set is incomparable for its completeness (it includes all the chamber music, solo piano music and the concertos) and for its vivid, characterful and musically involving playing from pianist and soloists alike. The entire set (6 CDs in all) has been reissued in a 2016 SONY budget box with 24-bit high resolution remastering and it remains the standard by which all others are judged. Thus it's difficult to find other recorded accounts which can match it.  

Pianist Julian Milford and the London Conchord Ensemble make a commendable stab at it. And much of it is quite rewarding. Making this set particularly special, aside from the fabulous playing, is the superb recorded sound from Champs Hill. As good as the RCA set is, it has its occasional moments of "digititus". (I borrow that word from Stereophile magazine writers who sometimes use it to describe early digital recordings or inexpensive CD players.) In this case, there is just a hint of digital edge here and there and occasionally a touch of glassy hardness to the piano tone. However, overall, it has stood the test of time, musically and sonically, and is the Poulenc I turn to for sheer enjoyment.

Listening to this newer collection from Champs Hill, it is instantly apparent this is state-of-the-art digital CD sound. It is at once more relaxed, colorful and atmospheric than the RCA, yet with a believable dimensionality and communicative intimacy. There are times, though, when I still prefer the bold, dramatic presence of the RCA, which is superbly involving and can't help but provide a tremendous impact. But generally, the newer set sounds positively lustrous and most pleasing for repeated listening.

Before getting to the music, I have a few issues with the production to address.

First, I am aware that at least half of the music contained here was originally released on ASV in 2007. Champs Hills Records label was founded in 2010. Presumably they acquired these tapes from ASV, but nowhere in the booklet is this information disclosed. 

Second, no less than three clarinetists are listed in the roster of performers, but the booklet fails to identify which one is playing in which piece. I suppose it doesn't really matter, as they are all equally fantastic. But it would have been nice to know.

And while I'm at it, I suppose I have a third issue as well - that pianist Julian Milford is not more prominently credited for his inestimable contribution here is lamentable. This really is his collection, as he is featured on almost every piece, much of it very difficult music. Alas, he is merely listed as a member of the group.

​Quibbles aside, as to the music itself, the playing is uniformly excellent by all involved and the music-making thoroughly rewarding (with a couple exceptions - see below.)

Let's start with the highlights.

Along with the fabulous piano playing throughout, the clarinet playing is dazzling everywhere it occurs - in the Sonata for Clarinet and Piano, the Sonata for Two Clarinets, Sonata for Clarinet and Bassoon and in the Sextet. Variably, these are played by either Barnaby Robson or Maximiliano Martin (or both). A third clarinetist, Richard Hosford, is also listed as a "guest artist". I'm not sure why one was needed and there is no indication as to which piece he is involved with.

In the main Clarinet Sonata, we hear an amazing display of tonal variety, dynamic contrasts and the most exquisite pianissimo legato. There is no fading in and out, or any hint of a hesitancy of the tone to "speak". Here is a miraculous technique which produces rare beauty and control in clarinet playing. This is precisely why it sure would be nice to know who is playing it.

Another highlight is the outstanding horn playing of Nicholas Korth in the Sextet. His commanding focus of tone and articulation, along with an arresting dynamic range, are extraordinary - and very impressive indeed. 

Speaking of the Sextet, this account is extremely enjoyable overall. There are several really good recordings of it which I know well, but this one is so memorable it had me whistling its many tunes for days afterwards! It is notable for strong characterization of the many moods and ever-changing tempos, a pronounced observance of articulation markings (accents, etc.) and striking dynamic contrasts. And of course, that the horn steals the show tickles me no end. 

The Sonatas for Oboe and Cello are also excellent (played by Emily Pailthorpe and Thomas Carroll, respectively), and the expert recording team affords each of them an impressive immediacy, increasing musical involvement. I can't remember enjoying them more than here.

A couple oddities are included, neither of which is technically "chamber music". The short, melancholy Sarabande for Solo Guitar is beautifully tender, played with an amazingly sustained, singing legato by guitarist Tom Ellis. I had never heard it before and would never guess it comes from the pen of Francis Poulenc. I enjoyed it very much and wished there was more to it. The same goes for the one-minute-long Un Joueur de Flute, its haunting, "whooey" sound reminiscent of Debussy's Syrinx. There's also one that Le Sage omits: Villanelle for Piccolo and Piano (originally written for bamboo pipe, the "modern" rival to the recorder in the 1930s). Lasting just 2 minutes, its loveliness was over much too soon.

Unfortunately, the remaining three Sonatas are somewhat disappointing. The one for Trumpet, Horn and Trombone is a weird little piece that I've never much cared for. And listening to it here I'd surmise these players don't either. They tread carefully (almost hesitantly) in the first two movements, exhibiting some moments of insecurity and precious little musicality. The short, vivacious finale is better suited to this instrumentation and the trio sounds to be in more comfortable territory. I don't know...if I were the producer I might have scrapped this altogether.

In the Flute Sonata we encounter flute tone which is decidedly mellow and insipid. Curious, I read in the booklet that flutist, Daniel Pailthorpe, is a "keen advocate" of the modern wooden flute. Ah - that explains the lack of sparkle and brilliance to his sound. It's one thing to champion such an instrument for Bach, Telemann, Mozart (et al), but to my ears it doesn't do justice to 20th-Century flute repertoire. Pailthorpe's playing displays a pleasing degree of graceful elegance, and his musicianship is never in question. But the quirky capriciousness of Poulenc's writing is minimized. 

And finally - the Violin Sonata. Maya Koch plays sweetly and musically, but her sound is small and rather timid. There is minimal bite to bow on string and dynamics are limited. Conversely, this very piece is one of the supreme achievements on the RCA set and comparing the two is striking. Violinist Kolja Blacher, partnering with Eric Le Sage, is instantly more assured and commanding, with a more invigorating and powerfully moving musical involvement. His muscular articulation and wide dynamic range produce a positively thrilling experience. He is helped somewhat by the closer perspective from the recording engineers; the Champs Hill is especially laid back in this piece. (It was not part of the original ASV release and that may account for the slightly more distant perspective.) While this is probably the most difficult, technically, of all Poulenc Sonatas, Ms. Koch certainly accommodates all the notes with ease. But her performance is simply too polite compared to the best. I did enjoy her sweet, singing lyricism, though, and Julian Milford matches her approach beautifully.

In all, this is an enjoyable collection of Poulenc's chamber music. And if not all the performances are primary recommendations, many of them are, and there is no denying all of them are extremely accomplished and beautifully recorded. The recordings were made over a period of 10 years (2001-2011), all within the wonderful acoustics of the Music Room, Champs Hill, Sussex, UK. It's unfortunate the source of the recordings is not disclosed. Nonetheless, I am grateful to have them assembled in one collection. 

I will always love Eric Le Sage's RCA set. And while this new one doesn't displace it, it has nonetheless created a soft spot in my heart and I can't wait to listen to it all again.​

This big box from Eloquence offers Neville Marriner's Haydn Symphonies for Philips in the late '70s/early '80s. And what a glorious collection it is! This is Marriner at his very happiest. He obviously loved Haydn and a joyous outpouring is apparent everywhere. One laments that he (and Philips) didn't commit to recording all of them. But we can be grateful for the ones we do have.

These are fresh, alert, crisp and lovely readings of the 33 "named" symphonies. Tempos are perfectly chosen throughout - not only in the swift, vivacious outer movements, but also in the quick, smiling Allegrettos and Menuets, which simply bubble with charm and joy. And, mercifully, Adagios (and Andantes) never drag, but move along with a natural singing momentum which feels just right. The size of this chamber orchestra is perfectly suited for this music, and the acoustics of the various halls in which the recording sessions took place are consistently pleasing.

Eloquence lists a remastering engineer for this reissue. So I dutifully compared a couple Paris Symphonies back-to-back with my 1993 Philips Duo release. (Specifically #82 & 83, as #84, 86-7 are DDD.) The sound between the two is very close but subtly freshened on the newer issue. It is just slightly cleaner, brighter and airier, with a better front-to-back definition of the orchestral ranks layered back into the hall. However, I emphasize it is a very subtle difference, likely not even noticeable on all but the very best stereo systems (or perhaps on high-quality headphones).

Regardless, the remastered analog sound is consistently excellent - clean, warm and positively gorgeous, but not too rich or reverberant. In addition to the crisp articulation, just listen to the slow movements in the earlier symphonies (pre-Paris), especially those which use muted strings. What ravishing, positively creamy violin sound! Oh my goodness, it is absolutely delectable. So is the vibrant flute sound. (I smiled seeing in the booklet William Bennett, one of my favorite flutists ever, listed as soloist in at least one symphony, and I wonder if he was also the principal flutist in many of these sessions.) 

I could listen to this orchestra all day long and never tire of the beauty of it - especially the strings. And actually, getting through this box set, I did just that! It's worth noting, however, the few digital recordings from 1981 are slightly leaner and less glowing - to be expected from early digital. 

Eloquence gathers these recordings together for the first time, in the original layout, using the original album cover art. However, there are significant drawbacks to this lovely idea. It means an outlay of 15 CDs, most with just 2 symphonies and an average playing time of about 40-50 minutes each. Thus it's a great big box to find room for on the shelf, containing many more CDs than was necessary. 

Worse, the Symphonies are not in chronological order. (Not even all the Paris Symphonies are grouped together.) Instead they are laid out over the multitude of CDs more-or-less in the order in which they were originally released and coupled. I would have preferred the discs to be filled up (thus making the box half as big), with the Symphonies presented in numerical order for easy access and convenience. But that's just me.

I can't really fault Eloquence for doing this. It seems to be all the rage these days and all the major labels are doing it. And Decca just can't resist jumping on the bandwagon. I personally don't understand the reasoning behind it - making a set with as many CDs as possible when virtually no one is buying CDs these days. (And many labels are transitioning their back-catalogs to Download only). Plus one would think it wouldn't be cost-effective to produce a set with twice as many discs as necessary.

​But whatever. This collection is fabulous, and the sound is too. I enjoyed every minute of it and will be returning to it often.