I keep remembering how the Marmen Quartet blew me away playing Ligeti and Bartok on their debut recording for BIS earlier this year. It’s one of those momentous recordings which comes so rarely that it is simply unforgettable. Well, it is a fortuitous year indeed when we have yet another of those unforgettable recordings come along which is just as momentous and memorable. The Karski Quartet playing Bacewicz. And what a marvelous recording this is. 
 
Let’s start with the label, with its amusing logo and intriguing name: Evil Penguin. This is a Belgium production, whose website describes itself, not once, but twice, as a “boutique” label - claiming to be artist-driven, specializing in repertoire which “goes beyond the standard catalog”, and in-house expertise leading the way in “immersive” audio. Marketing hype aside, based on what I hear on this CD, it’s no mere hype. The sound is excellent, as is the playing of this string quartet based in Brussels.
           
Getting to the music, I jumped ahead and listened to the String Quartet (#4) first, a very popular piece lately which I’ve encountered twice already this year - neither of which was entirely satisfactory (please see reviews here on my blog). After a disappointing new recording from the Telegraph Quartet on Azica Records last month, I was anxious to hear another new group have a fresh go at it - hoping for all the world they would make me truly love it again. And oh my goodness do they ever.
 
The very opening is an almost inaudible ppp, prompting me to turn up the volume just to hear it. And as the music gets underway, the first thing I notice, besides the wide dynamic range, is the natural perspective of the recorded sound - which places the group slightly close to the listener, with a palpable presence within a spacious acoustic. And also the sheer gorgeousness of the group’s blend - with the luxurious sound of the viola being particularly notable. So already I’m hearing significant improvements over the Telegraph Quartet’s recording of the piece. Musically too, the music-making here conveys a communicative intimacy as if telling a story. And I’m so drawn into the music, I completely forget I’m listening to a recording.
 
As the movement progresses, I am struck by this violist’s (Diede Verpoest) solo after Fig 10, marked espressivo e con passione, and I uttered an “oh my god” upon hearing him playing it just that way - ravishing in its voluptuousness. Then a few bars later, the cellist (Julia Kotarba) eases into the first of her many solo passages with a plaintive expressiveness (marked melancolico), tempering the intensity of the vibrato, befitting the musical line. It is refreshing (and important) to hear these musical expression indications given such attentive prominence. And as the music unfolds, I hear this variety of tone color, vibrato and dynamics from the entire group - individually and as a unified ensemble. The result is a spontaneous outpouring of expression and musical involvement which is rare to hear, especially on a recording. I’m enthralled, and once again marvel at the wonderment of Bacewicz’s musical creation. The group continues building the music with enraptured intensity, culminating in an urgency in the closing section which sounds more exciting than I would have ever expected it could be.
 
The Andante, then, is expressive certainly, but with a singing simplicity which is captivating. There is a natural clarity to their ensemble which allows each individual solo line to sing out clearly, while surrounded by a rich harmonic blend from the rest of the group supporting it. There is a pervading feeling of melancholy here, but also a bit of hopefulness in the closing measures which I had not experienced in this movement before. Very, very nice.
 
And finally, the Allegro giocoso is fleet, but full-bodied too. Even light on their feet and incisively articulate and detailed (all wholly appropriate for the music), this superb group retains their body of tone - as opposed to the somewhat clinical transparency of the Telegraph Quartet. Thus there is a certain gravitas along with an exuberant freshness to their interpretation which is irresistible. And they bring the piece to an invigorating close.  
 
The Karski Quartet displays a unified purpose and direction to each movement, further demonstrating a thorough understanding of the overall scope of the piece as a whole. This, along with their blended sound and variety of color, texture and dynamic contrasts, makes it without doubt the most satisfying, rewarding, and musically enriching recording of the piece I’ve yet heard. It is so wonderful, I can only hope the group has plans to record more of these marvelous string quartets from this endlessly creative composer.
 
After that, I couldn’t wait to hear them play the Piano Quintet #1, which comes first on the CD. I recall enjoying both of Bacewicz's Piano Quintets on the 2018 Chandos recording played by the Silesian Quartet. But I have not returned to it and have no lasting memory of them. Eager to get reacquainted, I sat back and listened, hoping the perfection of the recorded sound in the Quartet has not been disturbed by the addition of a piano.
 
And it hasn’t. The piano is placed naturally behind the strings, not at all imposing or domineering. (More on this in a moment.) Though I'm not sure I like the sound of the very opening of the Moderato. It begins tentatively - very slowly and extremely mysterioso - but with an almost harsh starkness from the strings played sans vibrato, emphasized somewhat by the slightly close-up recording. Curious why they would play it this way, a quick check of the Silesians on Chandos reveals they execute it similarly.1 Bacewicz's indication in the score is molto espressivo, so this doesn't make much sense - especially as it sounds so uninviting. Fortunately they don't continue with it for long, and as the music begins to swell, so does the expression in their playing. And soon, the main Allegro takes flight, suffused with drama and enriched with passion. And I'm thoroughly engaged once more. The rhapsodic section near the end is especially memorable, with voluptuous string playing.

The relatively short Presto is lively - coquettish and even a bit skittish - featuring, at one point, some stunning 1st violin exclamations on the G string. And just as with the viola solo heard before in the Quartet, I virtually gasped at the gorgeous tone heard from this violinist (Kaja Nowak) - enhanced in no small part by the immediacy of the recording. This short little scherzo is delightful, and energetic too, with some impressive, scintillating piano playing by Jams Coleman.
 
Everything comes to a halt as the funereal Grave steals in. They take a daringly slow tempo in this movement, clocking in at well over a minute longer than the Silesian Quartet on Chandos. But they imbue it with a singing sensuality which keeps the listener fully engaged. And as it's marked grave, I can’t fault them. Curious though, I stopped here to make another back-to-back comparison with the Silesians, whose playing of this is somewhat different - simpler and less intense, with a slightly more forward-moving tempo. And the piano tone is a bit different as well. The Chandos recording affords the piano a noticeably darker, richer and more resonant tone in the lower registers compared to the one heard on Evil Penguin. And the entire perspective is slightly distanced and more atmospheric - all to great effect. But the closer perspective afforded the Karskis is in no way detrimental. Just...different.
 
The 4th movement then is a striking contrast. It is nervous and energetic, played with verve and a tantalizing friskiness. It’s marked con passione, and the group really brings it in the sensual second subject, which sounds downright seductive. And another comparison here with the Silesians proves informative. They play it slightly faster still - a bit more vivacious, yet lyrical at the same time. And again, the slightly more distanced Chandos recording is entirely beneficial, with a gain in atmosphere and a more clearly defined piano, with more sparkle to the higher octaves. Very nice. Both recordings are very satisfying, each in their distinctive ways, and it would be difficult to choose one over the other. Though if hard pressed, I suppose my preference would be the Silesians for their slightly more moving tempos and even more alluring recorded sound. But only just.
 
Curiously, the Karskis chose to close their concert with an oddity - an arrangement for string quartet of a traditional Polish folk song. It’s slow and lyrical, and actually very moving - displaying the group's richly blended sound at its most beautiful. However, I would have much preferred another major composition by Bacewicz herself to round out the program. With the total playing time on this CD of just 52 minutes (5 of that taken up by this little arrangement), there was plenty of room for another substantial work - perhaps another one of her string quartets, which the catalog desperately needs; or even the 2nd Piano Quintet, given the pianist was already on hand there in the studio with them.
 
A note about the production. The cover art and booklet are attractive and of very high quality. There are whimsical pictures of the musicians in a variety of settings, and some useful information in the booklet about the composer, the Karski Quartet and the pianist - but almost nothing about the pieces being played. How odd. For a boutique label "specializing in non-standard repertoire", I would have expected (and welcomed) in-depth program notes about both works. However, they make up for it with excellent recorded sound - which cannot be taken for granted from any label. Other than the unreasonably short playing time, overall I am impressed with Evil Penguin.
 
Postscript: Since writing the less-than-favorable review of the Telegraph Quartet’s recent Azica recording (which included Bacewicz’s 4th Quartet), I've often wondered if I had been too critical of it. But hearing how excellent this new Karski Quartet recording is - not only the playing itself, but also the recorded sound - confirms I was not. When you have such an accomplished ensemble like the Karski Quartet playing enticing and rewarding repertoire, natural recorded sound is absolutely essential for full enjoyment. And when it all comes together, as it most certainly does here, especially in the 4th Quartet, you have one hell of a recording.

1 And sampling several other recordings online, so do most other groups.

This is an enticing release - new orchestral works from American composer Kevin Puts played by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and their fabulous conductor, Stephane Deneve. It’s also interesting that it appears on the Delos label, which is making a comeback of sorts. They were acquired by Outhere Music in 2023 and have been releasing a handful of new titles (although I’ve not heard if there are plans to reissue previous material which hasn’t already been licensed to Naxos). It’s too bad their new releases are appearing at such exorbitantly high prices though. I splurged on this one (which I will certainly not do often), paying $18.75 for it from Presto Classical in Europe, but Amazon is selling it for a whopping $26! And to make matters worse, the disc plays for a mere 50 minutes. For that kind of money, I would have expected at least a full disc.1  

So, from what I’m seeing so far, the relaunch of the Delos label is not particularly promising. But landing a recording agreement with the St. Louis Symphony is encouraging, so I sat back for a nice listen. And it really is a very nice listen. I just wish it had gone on a bit longer.
 
I read with interest in the booklet that both Puts and Deneve are bigtime fans of John Williams.2 So it isn't surprising that Puts’ Concerto for Orchestra, written at the request of (and for) Deneve, displays the very essence of John Williams everywhere in the score.3
 
It is laid out in 6 movements, the first 4 of which are very short, the final two much more expansive and substantive. And right from the very beginning, Puts’ Hymn (for the Hurting) is very much like John Williams’ Hymn (to the Fallen). And it’s all good; it’s like being reacquainted with an old friend. And I hear beautiful recorded sound - from the strings, silky and airy at first, then building with texture and intensity in the soaring lines at the climax; and brass which are not too golden, but ring out resplendently with bite and sonority, as if right out of a glorious John Williams (JW) soundtrack.
 
Articulate woodwinds and lots of percussion inhabit the 1st “Caccia” (a 14th-century hunting song) which follows. And lots of horns too. And we encounter a profusion of familiar similarities to many JW scores too numerous to mention, but two come prominently to mind - Harry Potter and Indiana Jones (the motorcycle scherzo). The “Music Box” section is more atmospheric, and Puts reveals a more distinctive voice, with gorgeous woodwind solos conversing back and forth among themselves. While the “Toccata” is a terrific little scherzo, with a whirlwind of scalic flourishes on woodwinds and strings, before blazing brass and a full battery of percussion (including the splendid use of xylophone and marimba) take us firmly to classic Star Wars territory. And I’m beaming hearing the resemblance. If only Puts had developed it more; I didn't want this to end. (It lasts just 2 minutes.)

The mood is instantly subdued in the 5th movement, “Sicilienne”, beginning with a touch of Schindler's List in the strings, followed by a melancholy piano solo which reminds us even more of JW's wonderful score for Angela's Ashes. The piano is soon joined by various woodwind solos - furtive double reeds, then flute and clarinet - quoting the opening hymn. Puts develops it much further into a majestic, expressive outpouring of emotion, again somewhat similar to JW’s Saving Private Ryan. This is quite an expansive piece of writing, personal and heartfelt, lasting a full 10 minutes. It is very moving and very memorable - so much so, I found myself humming it for the rest of the day. (Always a good sign.)
 
The final “Caccia" (#2) begins similarly. But no sooner than it begins, piccolos and snare drum (with a hint of 1941) lead us abruptly into a quirky little romp, and into the world of some later Star Wars music (Phantom Menace, maybe?), complete with whooping horns and blasting trumpet fanfares. Puts’ orchestration prowess is in full bloom, with glittering woodwind interjections darting atop brass and percussion exclamations, surrounded by string flourishes. John Williams would certainly be proud! And I hope he has a chance to hear this at some point before it’s too late.
 
This piece was enormous fun to listen to, with so many fleeting snippets of familiar John Williams scores I couldn’t always put my finger on exactly which one I was reminded of. But Puts isn’t merely imitating or copying; he’s obviously inspired by it. And that’s the highest compliment one composer can give another. Moreover, Puts has his own individuality, displaying real creativity and heartfelt expressiveness along with colorful and highly effective orchestration. And Deneve brings it all to life brilliantly, and the orchestral playing is dazzling. I do wish Puts had expanded the first 4 movements into something more substantial. They’re over hardly before they even begin, and I wanted more from each of them. (The entire Concerto lasts just over 20 minutes, nearly half of that taken up by Sicilienne alone.)
 
Next is Silent Night Elegy (thankfully not that "Silent Night") in an orchestral setting of music from Puts’ 2011 opera of the same name. There are 5 (or 6) distinct sections, and I was initially disappointed the production doesn’t individually track each one, instead confining the entire 24-minute suite into just one track. But in the end, it didn’t really matter, because the music is so involving, I was captivated and engaged for the entirety of it, and forgot all about such technical matters.
 
The opening horn solo of the “Introduction” is instantly reminiscent of JW's score for JFK, tinged with the melancholy of Sleepers. But Puts soon takes off in different directions, developing the music into something completely different, and all thoughts of John Williams fade away. The “Battle” sequence, announced by piccolos and snare drum, marches into action propelled by heavy percussion, with dissonant, deep brass depicting the horror of it. It is soon followed by some impressively vigorous downbow strings en masse played with real muscle, and mighty percussion effects - all of which are extremely effective and musically descriptive.
 
The “Aftermath” continues with more angry music - and I begin to wonder how all of this comes from an opera. With so much of this music played ff by a powerful orchestra in full cry, I can’t imagine singers somehow being involved with it, competing to be heard.4 But never mind; as purely orchestral music, this is quite arresting. The “Burial” which immediately follows is a welcome respite from the discord - atmospheric and much more lyrical, featuring a variety of orchestral solos (horn, trumpet, flute) and impassioned string writing. But it doesn’t last long, as more angry, brass-laden fierceness charges into the "Generals’ Rage". And Puts doesn’t hold back with it - nor does Deneve, demonstrating his orchestra has the percussion and brass chops for just about anything. (And again I wonder how this could ever be sung to.) I don’t mean to imply this music sounds deliberately atonal or ugly. It doesn’t, and it isn't. It’s musically descriptive and, most of the time, tonal. But a lot of this music is indeed angry and mildly unpleasant, especially for a piece entitled “Elegy”.
 
At last, “Sleep” comes in the still of the night. This final section is tranquil, calm and quiet, featuring a lovely tune on the strings, which here sound silky and airy, adorned with a gossamer sheen to their body of tone. And as it progresses, the elegy of the title fully reveals itself and closes the work peacefully. And all is well.
 
But then…why would they append at the very end of the program a rousing little march like his Virelai? With its high-spirited piccolos and percussion leading a rather Beethovian marching processional, it is particularly unwelcome coming after the quiet, prayerful serenity of Silent Night. Oh it’s a wonderful little crowd-pleaser, lasting just 3-1/2 minutes, written specifically for Deneve’s inaugural concert with the St. Louis Symphony. It’s a charming, energetic march of sorts, based on a 14th-century tune, and I’m sure the audience in St. Louis welcomed it, along with their new conductor, with open arms. But for a CD production, placing it after Silent Night is simply ridiculous. It would have been a terrific concert opener if only someone had thought of that. 

Grumbles aside, this program is musically rewarding and enormously entertaining. And it is gratifying to hear Deneve doing great things with this great orchestra.

A quick comment about the recorded sound. It's big and bold, giving the listener a front row seat. However, there is an occasional touch of fierceness in fortissimo passages in the Concerto for Orchestra which is a bit concerning. The booklet reveals these 3 works were recorded over a 4-year period - the latest being the Concerto (2023), which employed a different engineer. The earlier recordings (from 2019 and 2020) are largely free from this anomaly. Much more concerning, however, is the overall short playing time and, especially, the price of this CD. These are significant issues that Outhere Music needs to address on future releases if the Delos label has any chance to be competitive and successful.    
 
1 Two other Delos titles I had considered recently similarly offered very short measure - one lasting 48 minutes, the other just 45. (I bought neither of them.) What are they thinking?
2 Which would explain all those terrific YouTube videos of Deneve conducting John Williams movie music with the St. Louis Symphony. He's definitely got a flair for it.
3 What is surprising is that several British reviews of the piece make absolutely no mention whatever of John Williams. LOL.
4 It's possible this orchestral suite draws from orchestral interludes more than from vocal passages.

After being bowled over by Sakari Oramo and the BBC Symphony Orchestra's recording of Bacewicz’s magnificent Symphonies 3 and 4 (2023 Chandos), I’ve been eagerly awaiting the follow-up disc and wondered why it’s taking so long. Chandos has been very busy, but at long last, Volume Two has arrived.
 
I was surprised the symphony comes first on the program, before the piano concerto, which doesn't make much sense musically. You’d never see it programmed this way on a live concert. But I was eager to hear if this symphony is as wonderful as those on the first volume, so I gave it a casual listen to whet my appetite. And oh yes, it is absolutely wonderful - as is the recorded sound. I took a few cursory notes and decided to come back to it later for a more comprehensive listen, and write a full review.

I listened more intently as the Piano Concerto began playing next. I really wanted to hear Peter Donohoe and Oramo play this, as I had come away with only a lukewarm impression of the piece listening to the 2023 Ondine recording played by pianist Peter Jablonski. (Please see my review here on the blog.) And right off the bat, I noticed something a bit strange with the recorded sound. My notes say: “this sounds funny”. And after listening for a few minutes, that feeling persisted and distracted me from enjoying the music. 
 
Perplexed, I set this aside and came back to it again a few weeks later. This time I started with the Piano Concerto, and once again immediately thought, oh this does sound “funny”. It’s rather hard to describe, but the piano sounds a little "boxy", like the lid is closed, and somehow separate from the orchestra, almost in its own acoustic. And too, even the orchestra sounds a bit 2-dimensional and indistinct. So it’s time to figure out what’s happening here. Going back to the aforementioned Ondine recording for a quick listen, I immediately hear a much more natural piano tone, along with vivid, more beautiful orchestral colors. The musicmaking is more alive, engaging and interesting, and I found myself being drawn into the music in a way I didn't with the Chandos. So much so, I began to think I may have underestimated the Ondine recording in my review.
 
But matters changed as I listened further. I tried the 3rd movement Molto Allegro next, where comparisons really got interesting. Chandos has suddenly given their piano a more lifelike presence, and the orchestra a more vivid focus. Ah-ha! They must have heard something was amiss in the first movement and corrected whatever was wrong for subsequent recording sessions. And now the musicmaking on Chandos comes alive and is in every way preferable to the Ondine. The tempo is faster and the playing from pianist and orchestra alike is less ponderous.
 
Going back to the beginning again to concentrate on the Chandos, musically, I found the first movement to be rather meandering and a little strange, not helped by the recorded sound, which obstinately refuses to draw the listener into the music. The Andante is better, played at a slightly more moving tempo than on Ondine. And the recording begins to improve as well. While the finale is really quite excellent compared to Jablonski's reading, played here with more verve and less heaviness, as noted above.
 
I found the piece not terribly convincing or persuasive in either recording, though admittedly for different reasons. I would have expected it to be more formally structured and musically compelling. The Chandos booklet goes into great detail about its compositional inception - pondering over its “hidden meanings” and “poetic riddles” and “disguised” use of folk melodies. Whatever. I wish there was less mystery and more obvious incorporation of folk melodies, as I consistently longed for more thematic melodiousness in the music.

So in the end, is this a good piece? Ehhh. It’s OK. I’ve listened attentively to 2 different recordings of it and ultimately came away with the same impression both times: it’s good but eminently forgettable.
 
Moving on to the Concerto for Large Symphony Orchestra however, everything changes. Very much for the better - though the very opening doesn’t begin promisingly. It is based on a note cluster - D#, E and F on the horns and trombones, so you can imagine what you’re going to hear and what this is going to sound like. The opening measures are pretty unpleasant, especially as Bacewicz intensifies the deliberate dissonance with a sizzling cymbal roll on top of it - all for no apparent musical reason.1 But the music becomes much more interesting (and gratifying) as she settles down for the piu mosso-molto ritmico. And even more so in the poco piu mosso which follows, where she incorporates some interesting string effects (such as col legno and wild glissandos), along with interesting percussive interjections from the piano and xylophone. The orchestration here really is innovative and fascinating. 
 
The Largo is gloriously atmospheric - hypnotic and otherworldly - and superbly orchestrated with an imaginative sonic palette of color. It is expressive and stark at the same time, and sensitive too. Oramo is masterful at conducting this kind of music, and he draws exquisite playing from his orchestra. The massed string glissandi, for example, are extraordinarily effective - intriguing, unsettling and downright eerie. As is the passage which follows, ingeniously utilizing a variety of tuned percussion like vibraphone, xylophone and celesta (and there are two harps as well) to create unusual tapestries of sound. It has a somewhat blurred, almost impressionistic feel to it, along with distinct hints of Bartok. My notes say “Nice”. And my heart says, oh, I really like this.
 
The Vivo starts with more purely atmospheric string writing, incorporating icy effects (sul pont) and more glissandi, punctuated with percussion and woodwind interjections. Bartok makes an even stronger presence here - reminding me not of his own Concerto for Orchestra, but his much earlier ballet, The Miraculous Mandarin. Bacewicz even incorporates bongo drums (and other percussion) along the way, propelling its rhythmic energy under the gossamer, silky string gyrations. It remains superbly evocative and atmospheric, and with its continued resemblance to Bartok's ballet, I'm really liking this. A lot.2
 
The final Allegro non troppo is notable for interesting orchestral effects and frequent punctuations from piano and a multitude of percussion. It sounds very modern and continues to evoke Bartok - late Bartok now. But there are moments of tonality too, struggling to emerge. But it’s the rhythmic drive which propels it, especially in the presto middle section. But it gets a little weird as it makes its way to the end, ultimately reminding me more of Lutoslawski than Bartok. It ends very abruptly, with a quick outburst of percussion rather than a big climactic peroration from the full orchestra, making me again wonder why Chandos puts it at the end of the program. 
 
I don't necessarily think “Concerto for Orchestra” is really the best descriptor for this piece, as it doesn’t feature much soloistic playing, or even choirs of ensembles. Nor is it virtuosic like we’d expect from a true concerto for orchestra. Instead, it explores atmosphere, color, texture and innovative orchestration above all else. Thus it seems more like a Sinfonia or perhaps an unnumbered symphony - or even more, a grand symphonic suite. But no matter, it is ever so close to being a masterpiece, and the performance of it here is stunning. Though interestingly, Oramo is a tad slower in all four movements than on the only other recording of it I could find, with Lukasz Borowicz conducting the WDR Symphony Orchestra on CPO.3
 
Finally, going back to the very beginning for the raison d'etre for this release (which surely should have come last on the disc), we hear the wonderful Second Symphony. And it is simply glorious - and gloriously recorded, returning us the wondrous sound heard in Symphonies 3 and 4 on Volume One. These 3 symphonies were written in quick succession - 1951, 1952 and 1953 respectively - so they reasonably should all inhabit a similar sound world. But they are fascinatingly different from one another - the 2nd, strikingly so.

The first movement is marked con passione, and Oramo interprets that brilliantly. He imbues it with passion, yes, but not a bit of heaviness or overindulgence. After the grandiose opening, the Allegro sentimento is less richly Baxian than the later symphonies, avoiding the chordal blocks of sound utilized so prominently in, especially, the 3rd. It is more impressionistic in its harmonic progression and fluid melodic lines, with leaner harmonies and more transparent orchestration. And as the Allegro develops, Oramo generates great momentum and excitement, then relaxes beautifully in the back-and-forth swelling and subsiding of the many meno mosso and piu mosso markings in the score - sounding at all times utterly spontaneous. I kept thinking over and over what a marvelous composer Bacewicz is and how refreshingly original this piece is.
 
The Lento tranquillo is exactly that - gloriously tranquil over a constantly moving, walking motif in the lower strings. And as the melody expands in the poco piu mosso, the upper strings are ravishing, as played by this fantastic orchestra. Yet Oramo doesn't allow it to become burdened with excess emotion - for even here, the transparency in the scoring remains a priority. And there is a certain disquietude underlying the illusive tranquility in the final section, which is spellbinding. The atmosphere of uncertainty here is awesomely portrayed by Oramo and the recording engineers. Oh my goodness, what a glorious piece of music this is.

The Scherzo vivo then takes off with energy and vigor, but also a delightful fleetness as well - at a perfectly chosen tempo. Oramo is once again masterful in preventing the music from weighing itself down, while allowing dynamics to expand with power and effortless ease into the acoustic (helped in no small part by the Chandos engineers). He again generates plenty of momentum and sheer excitement as well. It would be near impossible for an audience to refrain from spontaneous applause at the conclusion of this vivacious little scherzo (which lasts just under 4 minutes). But there is more!

The finale is a nice contrast to the Scherzo, marked Allegro moderato, which Oramo again judges perfectly. The massed strings are very impressive here - with just enough bow-on-string articulation to propel the sheer body and weight of their sound without becoming heavy. And while it's not overtly fast, Oramo brings enormous impetus and drive. And the variety of moods keeps the listener engaged in rapt attention, as Oramo thoroughly immerses us in Bacewicz’s inspirational and truly inspired creativity and imaginative orchestration. The piece ends with grandeur and panache - which would surely bring the audience to its feet.

And it's no wonder the Piano Concerto didn't make a more favorable impression, coming after the triumphant conclusion of this symphony.

This Symphony is another magnificent piece of music by this highly accomplished and endlessly impressive, pioneering composer. Its relative neglect is absolutely unconscionable and indefensible. Fortunately for us, it couldn’t possibly be afforded a more persuasive or rewarding performance than this one with the wonderful conductor, Sakari Oramo, and his equally wonderful orchestra. And the superlative recorded sound from Chandos brings it into the listening room with splendor and realism. With the exception of the Piano Concerto, orchestral recordings don’t get much better than this - musically, performatively, or sonically. I enjoyed it immensely.

1 It reminds me of her similarly dissonant Double Piano Concerto (heard on the same aforementioned Ondine CD), written 4 years later, especially as this incorporates the piano rather prominently in places.
2 Not surprising, as Bartok's Miraculous Mandarin is one of my favorite pieces of music.
3 I want to acquire that CD for comparison's sake. And, more importantly, the piece is so rewarding, it merits a second listen.

I look forward to new recordings from JoAnn Falletta and her wonderful Buffalo Philharmonic. If ever there was a musical match made in heaven, it’s this conductor and orchestra.
 
The program itself is very enticing too, though at first I was disappointed to see she recorded only Iberia from Debussy’s Images, rather than the entire thing. With a total disc playing time under 60 minutes, there was plenty of room for all of it. But never mind; I was swept away by her Iberia and all else was soon forgotten.
 
This Debussy is truly some of most atmospheric, dynamic, and musically engaging orchestral music I’ve heard all year, helped by some of Naxos’s very best recorded sound. I was immediately struck by the gorgeous, spacious, atmospheric acoustic, and the dynamic, articulate, energetic and sensitive orchestral playing - all of which drew me in, thoroughly immersing me in the perfumed colors and atmosphere of Debussy’s magnificent score. The orchestra is set back realistically in the hall, yet is afforded superb immediacy, focus and transparency.

In the opening section, Falletta brings the music brilliantly to life, with vivid characterization, boundless energy, musical phrasing and a wealth of inner detail. While Parfums de la nuit (“scents of night”) is evocative and very atmospheric, without wallowing in the impressionistic haze of it. Falletta wisely keeps it moving - and again allows every significant detail to emerge, while encouraging her strings to sing ever so sweetly. And then, get ready for jour de fete (“festival day”), which takes off like a dash, bursting into an extremely flamboyant flamenco. It is very fast, and very exciting, but never hectic or breathless. It’s an exuberant, festive celebration, ending with enormous bravura. (I love those trombones!)
 
I skipped over Alborada, anxious to hear Ibert’s Escales next. And curiously, the sound is suddenly a bit less present and dynamic here. It sounds to be mastered to disc at a lower transfer level, requiring a boost of the volume control. But once adjusted, Rome-Palermo (Sicily) begins exquisitely, with an enchanting, almost intoxicating feeling. Here Falletta does allow herself to luxuriate in it just a bit, which is entirely appropriate for the music. Though when the con sordino, multi-divisi strings rise up from the mists, they are slightly less ravishing than I’ve heard elsewhere - none more so than Eduardo Mata’s sumptuous 1994 recording with the Dallas Symphony for Dorian Records. The Buffalo strings are silky and gossamer, but not quite as lush as I was expecting. 
 
In Tunis-Nefta (Africa), we hear an ethereal, hypnotic atmosphere surrounding a truly mesmerizing, snake-charming oboe - sans vibrato. This works so well played this way, I scribbled in my notes “absolutely genius!”1 And when Ibert finally takes us to Spain in the final movement (thus in keeping with the theme of this album), the rhythmic opening of Valencia is crisply articulate and highly propulsive, though I do miss some sheer muscle in the massed strings, which are marked ff but sound more comfortably f. And later near the end, in the passages building up to the climatic finish, I wish the fff bass drum and tam-tam crashes were as overwhelmingly powerful as they are on Mata’s spectacular Dorian CD. (To be fair, none can match the sheer amplitude and dynamic range of that classic audiophile recording.) But Falletta is very impressive here, bringing a grand pageantry to this entire final section, while encouraging the strings to positively soar to the heavens at full, rapturous power.  
 
I can turn the volume back down to normal for the concluding Ravel, as the orchestra is restored to the level heard earlier in Debussy.2 And it’s interesting that with a more sharply focused immediacy to the sound, the orchestra actually gains in atmosphere and color, along with dynamic presence and inner detail.
 
This Rapsodie espagnole is, simply put, superbly played. Everywhere we hear a responsiveness from this orchestra to their conductor’s every gesture, with nuances which sound at all times totally natural, totally musical and utterly spontaneous. Prelude a la nuit is sumptuous, yes, but kept moving along nicely, revealing every detail in Ravel’s explicit orchestration. While Malaguena is, once again, very fast (marked Vif). And boy does it work at this tempo! Especially when Falletta relaxes beautifully - not too much! - when called for in the score (subito moins anime - “immediately less animated”), with a natural musical ease and expressiveness which is exceptional. Habanera is superbly atmospheric, brimming with color and extraordinary responsiveness from the orchestra, with a natural elasticity and ebb-and-flow of tempo and phrasing.
 
And hold on for the final Feria ("festival"), which is again very fast, fleet, exciting and festive - glistening with sparkle and glittering detail in the orchestration. While Falletta pushes her orchestra to their very limits at this speed, she has the innate sense to hold back just ever so slightly, for a mere split second, right where the music absolutely needs it - at the height of a climax to let it fully expand, or in a harmonic resolution to let it fully settle - before pushing ahead again. Thus it never sounds rushed or driven, just thoroughly spontaneous and absolutely exhilarating. I’ve criticized many a conductor who plays things fast just to be fast, but it’s not really all that exciting. Well, Falletta knows exactly what she’s doing; this is fast and exciting. She continues to prove over and over what a masterful conductor she is.
 
Going back to Ravel’s Alborada del gracioso that I skipped over was a delight from beginning to end. The opening is delectably atmospheric, creating a real sense of anticipation. (And the bouncing, staccato bassoon is hilariously gracioso!) And then...that first bass drum wallop is a sock to the gut! Just as it should be. (This is exactly what I was missing in the climax of Escales.) The piece continues on as the brilliant showpiece I was hoping it would be, and the orchestral playing is dazzling. Even if at the end, the accented, ff whacks on the low F# timpani aren't as crisp or powerfully impactful as they could be (they sound a bit muffled - way, way back there), the trombones' machismo more than makes up for it. And I almost wish they had played this last on the program to close the concert. It's a knockout.
 
This is yet another fabulous release from the fabulous JoAnn Falletta. I don't think I've ever heard her quite so vivacious and uninhibited before, and the musicmaking throughout is thrilling. The playing of the Buffalo Philharmonic is, as always, excellent, and even with the slight reservations with the Ibert, so too is the Naxos recorded sound. Not to be missed.
 
1 Perhaps other conductors play it this way, I just don’t remember another quite like it.
2 The recording details reveal the Debussy and Ravel were recorded in October 2023 and March 2024, while the Ibert was 7 months later in October '24. For whatever reason, microphone placement must have been slightly different for that later session. 

I like the Azica label, and I love discovering new string quartets, so this title instantly caught my eye - especially as they play Bacewicz’s very popular 4th Quartet. Everyone is playing it lately, at the complete neglect of her other 6. It’s a great piece, but a shame it has so overshadowed the others. I’m so grateful Chandos and Naxos have recorded all 7 of them (played by the Silesian and Lutoslawski Quartets, respectively). 
 
Be that as it may, the Bacewicz was the ultimate enticement for me to buy this CD. And with the price of CDs these days, I’m being much more selective in what I shell out money for, not taking chances anymore on frivolous purchases.1 So with that sentiment lingering in my mind, it’s perhaps not surprising I found this release to be less than satisfactory - for several reasons.

Beginning with the basics, let’s talk about the sound - from the recording and the (unnamed) venue, to the playing itself. The production doesn’t tell us where or when these pieces were recorded.2 It only lists the producer/engineer (Alan Bise). I looked for these details because I found the recorded sound to be less than excellent - which is surprising from this label. 

My first impression listening to the Bacewicz is that the group is recorded up close in an intimate setting - a small studio rather than a hall. The group is unnaturally forward, given an imposing presence. The opening Andante starts quietly, and soon grows with vigor, momentum and good propulsion. The playing is notable for crisp articulation and strong characterization of the various sections - enhanced by the immediate, vivid recording. So we’re off to a good start. But as the movement progresses, I begin to miss some of the sweeping harmonic richness and rhapsodic, soaring lines I normally associate with this piece. It is clinically detailed, not unlike the Chandos recording for the Silesian Quartet, but without their silkiness of tone and airy acoustic. And the overall balance (as recorded) seems to favor the violins. These factors combine to make the group sound slightly less richly blended than often heard. Nonetheless, the playing is characterful and engaging, and I’m enjoying the music.
 
And that feeling continues in the Andante, which is simple and plaintive, taken at a nicely flowing, forward-moving tempo. It’s very effective here, supple and lighter in texture, affording it a searching, almost yearning, introspective quality. The final Allegro is lively and nimble, with crisp articulation and excellent dynamics. It is marked giocoso, and that’s exactly how it sounds. It has good energy too, generating plenty of momentum.
 
So even with the close perspective and a peculiar leanness to the group’s body of sound, so far so good. But matters become more problematic as the group ventures into more difficult territory in the remainder of the program, where the extremely close microphones allow absolutely nowhere to hide.
 
Britten’s 1st String Quartet has never been one of my favorites and I was hoping the Telegraph Quartet would convince me otherwise. But they don’t - especially in that challenging 1st movement, where I began to realize something was seriously amiss.

The sonic impressions I noted in the Bacewicz seem even more unfavorable here. In that weird opening Andante sostenuto of the first movement, the very close microphone placement is ruthlessly revealing, making this passage sound bleak, icy, exposed and too loud. It is the complete opposite of atmospheric and spacious, right where the music (and playing) needs it the most. They sound a bit unstable in intonation - ruthlessly exposed by microphones which sound like they are mere inches from the fingerboards. To be fair, this passage (each and every time it recurs) doesn’t sound pleasant when anybody plays it, and one wonders what Britten was thinking when he wrote it. But it really is too stark for comfort here, and I was grabbing for the remote to turn it off. But I really wanted to give this a chance, so I forged ahead. And the immediacy of the recorded perspective eventually proved more acceptable in the Allegro vivo, emphasizing the energy and vigor in the playing. However, there remains a brightness to the violin tone which is bothersome, and, musically, I found this movement to be too long and less than appealing. 
 
Matters improve musically in the remaining movements. The playing is well-executed, with crisp articulation and dynamic gusto in the Allegretto - though I am constantly aware of the recording, which continues to be too close, precluding truly soft playing. (The opening, for example, is marked ppp, but sounds more like a comfortable p.) The same applies to the Andante calmo, but the playing is heartfelt and plaintive - very moving and not at all weighed down with itself. And the final Molto vivace is frisky and playful, and vividly characterized - especially in that teasing, coquettish central section immediately following the 1st violin’s octave glissando. Very nice. And the group ends it with bravura.
 
The playing is so persuasive, characterful and articulate, it’s a pity the recording isn’t more alluring. I am certain I would have enjoyed this much more with less fatiguing sound. This is a missed opportunity, I’m afraid.
 
And then we come to Weinberg. Ugh. I’ve never liked his music, and listening to what this group plays, I can confidently say I especially don’t like his 6th String Quartet. I initially questioned why on earth the Telegraph Quartet would pick it, but then remembered their theme of this album - music from the time during and just after WWII. As this quartet was composed in 1946, it was the choice by default.3 Surely there are any number of other string quartets from the 1940s and ‘50s they could have chosen instead. But I listened with an open mind, wanting for all the world to find something worthwhile in it. But I couldn’t. It just sounds like second-rate Shostakovich. And that’s actually more complimentary than it deserves. I tried listening to it twice and found it more and more disagreeable and irritating the longer it played on. (The Adagio alone is agonizing, going on unmusically for nearly 8 minutes. My god.)
 
Not being familiar with this piece, I can only judge it from this recording. It sounds to me that the playing - and indeed the music itself - obstinately lacks warmth and emotional involvement, exposing an absence of real creative inspiration (or even minimal accomplishment) in the writing. It just goes on interminably without musical substance or purpose. And the recording itself once again exacerbates it with persistently edgy violin tone and a forwardness which tires the ear. I couldn’t make it all the way through this either time I tried. And I really did try.
 
So, all things considered, is this CD an essential purchase? Not really. If only the recorded sound were more pleasing, this album might have been more important and musically gratifying. But at the end of the day, there are a number of excellent recordings of the Bacewicz to be had, and the Britten is well-represented on Chandos and BIS. And I can happily live out the rest of my life without ever having to hear the Weinberg again. And while it was fun to hear a string quartet I’ve not encountered before, I could never get past the conscious awareness (and continual sonic reminders) that I was listening to a recording rather than the real thing. The very best recordings are notable for drawing you into the music and immersing you into the musicmaking so completely that you forget you're listening to a CD at home on the hi-fi. That never for an instant happened when listening to this Azica recording.

This is the Telegraph Quartet's second recording for Azica. I’ve not heard the first, so I can’t say if the sound was any better there. But I can say I’d like to hear more from them - especially in more enticing music and natural recorded sound. 
 
1 I don’t mean to pick on Azica; EVERYBODY has raised prices across the board. And it’s exasperating. Fortunately, I preordered this one before the latest round of exorbitant price increases in September, where this title went from $16 to $20 overnight. (And it is only available as a digital download in Europe. Sigh.) 
2 Nor does it provide timings for individual tracks. Tsk tsk.
3 Does this group actually like the Weinberg 6th? 

I have a few recordings from this group (with various leaders/directors over the years), and have enjoyed them for the repertoire they play and their blended sound. This is slightly different from many other groups which encourage soloistic playing from the members, often playing standing up in a rather assertive manner. The Ostrobothnian Chamber Orchestra (OCO) is just the opposite - concentrating on warmth, expressiveness and a rich, almost symphonic, sound. As a result, they are not the most exciting string orchestra around, tending to sound larger than their small numbers would suggest; the pictures in the booklet reveal their number to be 16 in all. 
 
"Breaking Waves" is the group's latest recording for BIS and the repertoire they play is enterprising, which is what initially caught my eye. It features music by three female composers, of which I was familiar only with Bacewicz's 4th String Quartet, but not in this new arrangement for string orchestra. So this disc was an opportunity to discover something new.
 
The program begins with a lovely piece by Welsh composer Grace Williams. She studied at the Royal Academy with Ralph Vaughan Williams and his influence can be heard often in her Sea Sketches. However, Grace Williams exhibits her own distinctive, individual voice - more Celtic in flavor and much less properly "British" than her teacher. The suite is comprised of 5 fairly short sections, all highly descriptive and programmatic. This little gem demonstrates her to be a master of the miniature - with perfumed atmospheres, colorful harmony and orchestration, and vivid characterization.

The opening, “High Wind”, immediately grabs our attention with agitated trilling and nervous vibrato, along with flurries and flourishes portraying a wind storm. However, it’s not furious or especially turbulent. This isn’t a hurricane, it's just the wind; we don’t fear for anyone who finds themselves out on a boat in the midst of this storm. But it is energetic and engaging, and the playing exhibits this group’s signature sound - vibrant, dynamic and full-bodied, sounding like a larger body of strings than they really are.
 
“Sailing Song” brings a distinct contrast, with wonderful dynamic swells and fervent ebb-and-flow, recalling smooth sailing over restlessly undulating waves. In the 3rd section, “Channel Sirens,” the master himself (Vaughan Williams) makes a strong influence in its longing stillness, with pensive melodies full of anticipation.
 
“Breakers” (presto) returns to energetic turbulence, but not just flurries of wind and waves as before, but a real sense of impending danger. Now we do worry about anyone caught unawares out in the elements. But all seems to end well and the piece concludes with “Calm Sea in Summer”. Its tranquility is sheer loveliness, depicting a smooth, clear, reflective surface with barely a ripple. All is calm and graceful, peaceful and meditative, adorned with a glorious, gently soaring violin tune above. The atmosphere builds and the melody takes on an almost rapturous pensiveness over a richly harmonic foundation which lingers in the minor, but finally emerges resplendently into major - all the while tinged with a sense of yearning. As the sun sets over the horizon, the music eases with quiet resolve, leaving the listener with an undisturbed sense of satisfaction.
 
Grace Williams is a wonderful composer and her Sea Sketches deserves to be better known.1 The playing of it here by the OCO is marvelous, and the BIS recording compliments the group beautifully, embracing their warm, homogenous sound - though I detected just a bit of coarseness in the lower strings which was to persist to varying degrees throughout the program. But it is minor and doesn’t detract from the heartfelt music-making.
 
Next we have a bit of a novelty in the form of Grazyna Bacewicz’s 4th String Quartet arranged for string orchestra, commissioned by the OCO. This particular Quartet has become quite popular lately, with YouTube videos cropping up everywhere and several CD recordings appearing just recently. So it is not surprising it would eventually show up in an arrangement for string orchestra.2 And it works surprisingly well, although I came away much preferring the original, for reasons described below.
 
The opening Andante is a bit matter of fact and less intimate and atmospheric than the original. But it soon builds into a rather romantic, richly harmonic and colorful rhapsody. I’m rather swept away by it, although it hardly resembles the original anymore - especially in the ensuing Allegro energico, which is just a tad sluggish and much less incisive than usual, affording it a symphonic grandiosity. In this regard, it reminds me of the DAFO Quartet’s 1999 recording of the original, which was made in a large, spacious, reverberant hall, which also tended to sound rather symphonic in nature. Both are a striking contrast to the very close-up, intricately detailed 2016 Chandos recording by the Silesian Quartet, which is so much more delicate, transparent and intimate, it almost sounds like a different piece. Nonetheless, the sheer drama the OCO generates is arresting, and I especially enjoyed how the solo cello provides a pronounced contrast to the tutti strings surrounding it.  
 
The Andante, though, is surely too leisurely here - over a minute slower than the Silesians or the Telegraph Quartet on their new recording for Azica Records (review forthcoming). It is more of an adagio at this pace - heavier than ideal and losing some of its free-flowing intimacy. The music remains intriguingly temperamental played this way, but strays a bit too far from the original, becoming something rather more than it is.
 
Similarly, the final Allegro giocoso is burdened with a touch of excess heaviness and smooth, rather than incisive, bowing. Thus it loses some of the essential giocoso element. It is played with vigor and enthusiasm, but I wish it was more agile and fleet (and more crisply articulated). Listening to the Telegraph Quartet’s recording, the music is instantly and refreshingly much more nimble - notably faster and more crisply articulate. They also play with a wider dynamic range, beginning at a true pianissimo, all to great effect. 

So while this arrangement is interesting, I find it curious the OCO commissioned it when Bacewicz had composed 4 marvelous compositions specifically for string orchestra - a Divertimento, a Sinfonietta, a Concerto and a Symphony for strings (all of which can be found on two different releases from DUX Records). I suspect any of these pieces would have been a better fit for this group's distinctive characteristics.   
 
Finally, the concert closes with another string quartet arranged for string orchestra commissioned by this group. Johanna Muller-Hermann was an exact contemporary of Richard Strauss and studied in Vienna with Zemlinsky, to whom this work was dedicated. Interestingly, I hear rather more Strauss than Zemlinsky in this arrangement of her one and only String Quartet. (And I ultimately found the original would sound just the opposite.)
 
The opening Moderato starts with sweetly singing 1st violins, but as the music gets going, that bit of coarseness heard earlier in the cellos again calls attention to itself, adding a touch of Germanic intensity which doesn’t seem particularly beneficial to the music.3 And not unlike the opening of the Bacewicz, there is a bit of heaviness (even thickness) which alone may be the reason it tends to evoke Strauss more than Zemlinsky. The original string quartet reveals more inherent light-and-shade transparency to it.

The 2nd movement Allegro vivace is decidedly too ponderous for a vivace, vaguely recalling Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegel. And again I found the original to be much more vivacious and articulate. The Adagio then is positively Wagnerian in its scope and temperament, but the final Allegro con spirito perks up nicely - delightful, and frolicsome in places, building to an exciting finish.
 
I could find only one recording of the original String Quartet (appropriately coupled with the 3rd and 4th by Zemlinsky) on a 1998 Nimbus release played by the Artis Quartet. And in the process of the writing this review, I acquired it for comparative purposes to hear if my hunches were confirmed. And as noted above, they were. And I ultimately appreciated the music even more in the original version.
 
In the end, this is an enjoyable and rewarding program of unusual repertoire, played by a very accomplished, seasoned ensemble. I definitely enjoyed the works most to least exactly in the order in which they are presented on this disc. The Williams is wonderful in every way, and beautifully played. As for the two arrangements, while the Bacewicz seems to work better than the Muller-Hermann in this guise, the smooth articulation and intentional richness in the playing don't really befit the essential nature of the originals. Malin Broman, the group's current leader, has fostered a slightly heavier, more homogenous and less articulate sound than I've heard from them in the past. For example, their 2019 recording for BIS, "Russian Masquerade", conducted by Sakari Oramo (their previous director), exhibited more variety of color and transparent textures, and I didn't hear any gruffness in the cellos. I also found it curious their roster totaled 19 players on that recording, versus 16 on the current one. 

The BIS production is exemplary, as to be expected, including an informative booklet and excellent recorded SACD sound. And despite my minor reservations, I can warmly recommend it.
 
1 There is a 2024 recording of it by the BBC Philharmonic on Resonus Classics, which irritatingly appears to be available only via digital download. Sigh.
2 Similarly, there is an arrangement of Fazil Say’s String Quartet (“Divorce”) on YouTube, which is terrifically effective for string orchestra.
3 The booklet tells us this piece was recorded in a different hall from the other two, which would tend to confirm the coarseness in the cellos is a realistic representation of the sound of this group. However, this recording session seems to emphasize it with a closer microphone placement.

​I’ve been noticing over the past few years the steady increase in the price of CDs - and over just the past year, the skyrocketing price of CDs. One notable example is the explosion of prices for Naxos CDs. Well known as being a “budget” label, you now see Amazon listing Naxos titles anywhere from $14-$17 for older titles and a whopping $20 for new releases. While Presto Classical in England (where I get most of my CDs) lists their Naxos CDs for $14.25 across the board. It’s simply unthinkable to pay this kind of money for a Naxos disc now, and I’ve all but stopped buying them - unless it’s something absolutely indispensable that I absolutely must have and it’s on sale. Or I wait and find a used copy.
 
I’ve also noticed the price has jumped up even more on other labels as well - most up to around $21-$22 now in the U.S. (Amazon, ArkivMusic, etc.) and over $17 in Europe - plus shipping. And unbelievably, just this past week during the time I've been writing this commentary, prices have gone up even more! Presto just upped their list price for Chandos to $19 (with a "sale price" of $17.10), and BIS titles to $18 - while Amazon now lists them for a whopping $25! What the hell is going on? Even for "premium" labels that’s way too much - absurdly so when the CD market has shrunk so much it's practically obsolete. So to charge the few of us who still buy CDs (and even fewer buying SACDs) such exorbitant prices is unconscionable.

I’m even seeing similar price increases from small independent labels too. For instance, the defunct Delos label is under new ownership now and purportedly making a comeback. They're listing a new September release at $24 on Amazon. Oh wait - they just upped it again, just today, to an absurd $26. And a new Alpha Classics title I'm watching is coming out next week for $21. And I have to ask - do they really think people are going to buy their product at these prices? Legitimate question. 
 
And I'm not lured by reduced pricing on the download or streaming versions either. I don’t do that - for several reasons. I have optimized (and continually upgraded) my stereo system over the past 30 years to sound its best at CD reproduction. And streaming (or worse, MP3) just doesn’t live up. Plus I like holding the physical product in my hand and actually reading the booklet. And most important of all, I like the simplicity of a CD - load it in the player, press play and instantly hear music. No futzing around with internet connections and websites and subscriptions and download speeds and all that. I’m old-fashioned (or perhaps more accurately, simply getting old) and I admit I’m set in my ways. But I’ve assembled a collection of over 10,000 CDs over the past 40 years and I’m not about to change how I listen to music now - so long as they're still making CD players when mine ever fails (which is a real concern).
 
So I still buy all my music on CD, and almost all new CDs from Presto Classical in the U.K. They consistently offer considerably reduced prices compared to the U.S., along with fairly reasonable shipping rates (at least they used to be - more below), and quick delivery, considering it’s coming from Europe (usually getting here in about 10 days). Their website is very user-friendly and they have excellent customer service too - with real people who are knowledgeable and actually care, and actually respond to inquiries. (Try getting that from Amazon!) But lately I’ve been seeing their shipping rates creeping up quite dramatically for no explainable reason. And their sale prices are becoming less substantial and more selectively applied. So I know they're feeling the heat even there in Europe, where Classical music is still considered important (compared to the U.S. market). And I’m becoming even more concerned than ever.

For those relatively few titles I feel I absolutely must have, I’ll either watch for a good sale price or patiently wait for a used copy from a reliable Amazon Marketplace seller. (I actually buy a lot of used CDs.) And I will pass over others that I previously might have taken a serious look at, but which now seem less enticing or necessary at the current asking prices. Sadly, I’ll take fewer chances on something more adventurous - whether it be repertoire or unknown artists - and focus on the most desirable titles which offer the most reasonable expectation of being excellent, particularly with regard to recorded sound, musical content and the potential for rewarding performances. 
 
Ultimately that is a real shame. And terribly dispiriting. A gratifying and essential part of collecting Classical music recordings (it’s more than a mere hobby, it's a passion) is taking chances and discovering something (or someone) new. But it’s not as fun with such a cost involved, only to be disappointed when it isn’t everything you hoped it would be. But reality is reality. I’ve got to be prudent in my spending now more than ever - while keeping a certain amount in the budget for good wine too!

It's interesting to see a resurgence in Tchaikovsky’s relatively neglected Orchestral Suites in a smattering of recent new recordings. Newcomer Stanislav Kochanovsky recorded the Third with the NDR Radio Philharmonic for his debut on harmonia mundi, while another newcomer, Alpesh Chauhan, recorded the Second with the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra (much less successfully, I might add) on the 3rd disc of his ongoing series for Chandos.
 
Now another relative newcomer records #1 and 2 for Mirare. And I’m intrigued - for a couple of reasons.
 
What’s interesting is that conductors new to the recording scene are taking up Tchaikovsky’s Suites rather than his Symphonies. And that’s a very good thing. The competition is fierce in the Symphonies, and a newcomer has to be very special indeed to make any kind of impact (let alone positive impression) in such familiar repertoire. But they can have more of a chance to shine - to be distinctive and distinguished - in lesser-known works. So the Suites are a logical and intelligent place to start.
 
But it’s risky. These pieces are not easy to pull off. They require proficiency and a real understanding of the music, along with skill and real leadership abilities to get an orchestra to make them work.
 
So it’s therefore even more interesting that Russian Kochanovsky does indeed shine (at least in Tchaikovsky), while British Chauhan (a product of the Royal Northern College of Music in Manchester) does not. In fact, Chauhan reveals himself to be a rather mediocre conductor in this music - yet Chandos keeps recording more and more of it anyway, for reasons I will never understand.
 
Meanwhile, cellist-turned-conductor, Victor Julien-Laferriere (looking very young and demure on the CD cover, though he’s actually in his mid-30s), has tackled the first two Suites in this, his second recording with the Orchestre Consuelo, which he founded in 2021. I thought his first recording with them (Brahms Serenades) was surprisingly amateurish and I was extremely hesitant to purchase a new CD from this group attempting Tchaikovsky. However, after listening to Chauhan’s rather ordinary readings, I thought - well Julien-Laferriere ("J-L") can’t be any worse. Well, it turns out he isn’t worse. In fact, he's much better! I am amazed at the difference between the two conductors in the one work they have both recorded (the 2nd Suite), and I’m amazed at the difference with J-L and his young orchestra in just a year since their debut album. I’m so glad I decided to give him another chance, for this new recording is really quite wonderful.
 
Eager to compare the two recordings, it was with the Second Suite I began listening, and instantly, the enraptured, sweetly singing Consuelo strings make me once again love the opening movement in a way Chauhan could not. And instantly, I hear an emotional expressiveness from them which was somewhat curtailed in their earlier recording. And as the music progresses, the allegro molto vivace takes off in an engaging and positively invigorating way which Chauhan couldn’t begin to match. Moreover, there is a rhythmic security to the playing which enhances the sheer excitement and fervor in the musicmaking. J-L exhibits a distinct sense of purpose and involvement which was curiously missing from Chauhan.
 
To be fair, the Consuelo strings are not as rich or sumptuous as the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra’s (and I’m sure they are fewer in numbers, as I believe this is technically a chamber orchestra-sized group.) And the acoustic in which they play is just a touch dry compared to the luxurious one in Glasgow. But there is a warmth to Mirare’s recorded sound here which is an improvement over their Brahms. And taken on its own, this is entirely satisfactory, and quite pleasing, recorded sound. So we’re off to a great start.
 
The Valse is delightfully lilting and imbued with charm in J-L's hands. It’s involving too, with a propulsive sense of direction, revealing this to be yet another wonderful Tchaikovsky waltz. It is followed by the infamous Scherzo Burlesque which is very exciting here. Unlike Chandos, which ridiculously spotlights the accordions to the front of the orchestra with a concerto-like presence, Mirare keeps them back in the midst of the orchestra where they belong. And their contribution is simply an amusing, and decidedly unusual, new color coming from within the orchestra - wheezing away to-and-fro between their two assigned chords. All the while, the orchestra (marked fff) whips itself into a frenzy, just as it should. And without the unnecessary, contrived emphasis on the novelty of it (as portrayed on Chandos), the music itself becomes positively thrilling! And J-L doesn’t hold back either; he encourages his orchestra to have a real go at it. And it's simply brimming with vigor and adrenaline. This is a conductor with a real vision. What a difference from the one on Chandos!
 
After that, the dreamy slow movement can’t help but be a bit of a letdown; however J-L doesn’t just let it wither like Chauhan does. He still has a real feel for it - again displaying a naturally flowing, rhapsodic elasticity to the tempo and emotional expressiveness, while his strings continue to sing ever so sweetly, keeping us thoroughly engaged. The final Danse baroque then is light and fleet, taken at a cracking tempo. While it may not be quite as dramatically exciting as Chauhan (who finally found something he liked), it fits better within the overall conception and scope of the piece in a way which had never even occurred to Chauhan. And with its appropriately lighter touch (it is a baroque dance, after all), it is whisked away like a whirlwind, fast and ebullient, brilliantly played by this fine orchestra. It is as exhilarating as you’ll ever hear it. 
 
I’m so happy this recording makes me love this piece again. Chauhan left me feeling like it was a somewhat weak composition. But J-L confirms what I already knew to be true: that certainly wasn’t Tchaikovsky’s fault.
 
Now to the First Suite, where I can forget all about comparisons and concentrate solely on the recording at hand. And if anything, it's even better. The plaintive bassoon and shimmering strings in the opening set the tone, creating an atmosphere uniquely Tchaikovsky. While the Fuga is energetic, dramatic and purposeful (with gloriously soaring horns) without ever sounding grandiose. J-L again demonstrates a true conception of the overall scope of the piece. The Divertimento waltz is sparkling and balletic, alternating with dramatic outbursts, reminding us of Tchaikovsky’s very best ballet music. The Intermezzo (andantino semplice) starts simply, as it should, but J-L soon enriches the lines with a touch of rapturous passion. Beautiful aching melodies permeate this section, and over and over, J-L reveals this entire piece to be one of Tchaikovsky’s most glorious creations. (And once again I marvel that this is the same conductor that so disappointed in Brahms.)
 
To more familiar territory we go with the Marche Miniature, and it is as delightful as ever - though J-L reminds us it’s a “miniature” and is marked moderato; thus it’s not taken too fast, allowing its intrinsic charm to emerge. The Scherzo then is light and animated, and amusingly, J-L brings out its strong resemblance to the burlesque to come in the Second Suite. (In fact, I kept expecting rollicking accordions to come bounding in here - Ha!) The final Gavotte is playful enough, but informed with a bit of gravitas too, in keeping with the overall scope and temperament of the work. And with it, J-L has expertly shaped the entire piece into a masterly, cohesive whole, making one wonder why this masterpiece isn’t performed (or recorded) more often. 
 
This reading of the First Suite is surely the most enjoyable and musically rewarding I can ever remember hearing (though it’s been a long time since I’ve listened to one). And the recording is slightly more alluring than in the companion on the CD - just a touch warmer and more atmospheric. The booklet tells us the two Suites were recorded at different sessions, separated by 9 months, which might account for the subtle difference. 
 
So with this recording of the 1st and 2nd, and Kochanovsky’s 3rd on harmonia mundi, I can completely forget all about Chauhan (and I wish Chandos would too) and just patiently wait for one of these better conductors to do the 4th - and I’ll be happy having a complete, well recorded, modern set.

I’ve collected the 3 of these to appear so far in the series - although after listening to the first one, I haven’t been motivated to listen to the next two. Francesca and Tempest were just so underwhelming - uneventful and thoroughly unmemorable - I couldn’t imagine Chauhan sparking life into the less familiar works.

However, as this 3rd release contains the Orchestral Suite #2, which I really like a lot, I decided to give it a serious listen. And it’s actually pretty decent - though as before, there’s a pervading feeling of it being played with a carefulness (albeit by a very fine orchestra) which makes me think they’re just sightreading this. This was especially evident in the somewhat meandering 1st movement, which Chauhan ambles through without much sense of purpose or direction. And I found myself admiring the gorgeous sound rather than the gorgeous music. Then, hoping the 2nd movement Valse would pick up a bit, it doesn't really; at least not enough. It lacks a bit of charm and sounds a little pedestrian.

It occurred to me at this point that maybe Alpesh Chauhan is a little like John Wilson, who just gets through all the bits that don’t interest him much until he gets to something that does. And that’s exactly what seems to be happening here, and when he finally gets to the Scherzo burlesque, the orchestra at last comes alive. And off it goes. And when the accordions come in, they make quite an impact. Are accordions really this loud in person? I mean, can 2 accordions really make as much sound as a full symphony orchestra in full cry? Well, sound engineer Ralph Couzens seems to think so. For with quite a little boost of their microphones, they are dropped right in your lap - well out in front of the orchestra. I’m pretty sure that’s not where they’d be seated in an actual concert setting, but here they are front and center as if in a super-duper accordion concerto - even though they only play just 2 chords over and over for their entire gig (which lasts exactly 18 bars in a quick 2/4, repeated one time). And even then, with all the spectacle of hearing accordions among a modern symphony orchestra (way back before that was a thing), Chauhan somehow curbs the music's unstoppable momentum and sheer exhilaration which would make it absolutely thrilling. Instead, it’s just fast - and a little roisterous with those larger-than-life accordions rollicking back and forth between their two assigned chords. I would much rather have heard more fury and sheer muscle from the strings in their frenzied 16th-note scalic passages (marked fff) than such prominent accordions.​1 
 
After that, the slow movement can’t help but be a bit of a letdown - especially as it is admittedly not one of Tchaikovsky’s best or musically coherent creations (although a good conductor can disguise that). Chauhan doesn’t illuminate anything in particular to keep us at all engaged and just allows it to wilt, despite some expressive playing from the orchestra. And then - again kinda like when John Wilson finds something that he likes, Chauhan springs the final movement to life in a way he hasn’t before. It’s nicely articulate and fully up to tempo. There’s no way he could ignore the vivacissimo/prestissimo markings, and it’s actually pretty exciting. But it lasts just 4 minutes, and is a little too short and comes a little too late to compensate for the previous 36. Chauhan doesn't seem to have a conception of the overall scope of the piece, nor does he display any real insight. Nonetheless, the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra does a fine job playing it.

Next up are two excerpts from Eugene Onegin, including the famous "Polonaise", which comes and goes uneventfully, followed by “Dance of the Tumblers” from the opera, The Enchantress. This isn’t the familiar, vivacious tumbler’s dance by Rimsky-Korsakov for sure. Tchaikovsky’s tumblers are less acrobatic than Rimsky’s - at least with Chauhan coaching them. (I can imagine this music being more athletic than it is here.)
 
The real highlight of the program comes next in Tchaikovsky’s early work, The Storm (not to be confused with his masterpiece, The Tempest 10 years later). It is a rather long and rambling collection of somewhat disjointed episodic scenes, beginning with a hesitant and overly melodramatic opening - followed by one of Tchaikovsky’s least memorable tunes, which begins with the first 5 notes of "Oh give me a home", but stops short of "where the buffalo roam" (although you hear it in your head anyway). However, the initial Allegro takes flight nicely, and Chauhan creates an impressive atmosphere of impending ominousness - though it feels a bit too fast and breezy to forecast imminent danger. I sense a thunderstorm rather than a hurricane at this speed. And later, the fugue section is again atmospheric rather than menacing. Chauhan vividly characterizes each section, but is apparently unconcerned with attempting to conceal the seams. Nonetheless, the piece succeeds anyway - thanks in large part to the superb orchestral playing and spectacular recorded sound.
 
After it was done, I was absolutely loath to listen to March Slav and simply couldn’t bring myself to play it. Why producer Brian Pidgeon placed it here is beyond reasoning. (He exhibits this little problem frequently). But for those who just must have it yet again on yet another Tchaikovsky collection, I’m sure the BBCSSO sightreads it with blusterous aplomb.
 
Just as in a recent harmonia mundi CD, which featured Tchaikovsky's 3rd Orchestral Suite conducted by newcomer Stanislav Kochanovsky, the recorded sound is definitely the highlight of this release. In fact, this Chandos SACD sounds so glorious, it almost convinces you the musicmaking is better than it actually is. (Almost.) The BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra sounds absolutely beautiful here - warm, colorful, airy and transparent. And the engineer sets them back at a perfect perspective (except for those swashbuckling accordions) within a gorgeous acoustic - with palpable presence, immediacy and dynamic impact. The listener gets the best seat in the house - about mid-hall. This is a night and day improvement over the rather distant, somewhat diffuse and slightly congested sound they produced for Wilson’s recent Rachmaninoff 1st and Symphonic Dances. (What happened there?) So I’m very happy for that.
 
I hadn’t necessarily intended for this to be a negative review, though I can muster little more than faint praise. But I have to be sincere (and honest) about what I hear. Chauhan lacks a real vision for these works, and once again, I'm amused at British reviewers effusing all over themselves about this guy with comments like: "He evidently has a tremendous flair for Tchaikovsky", "..the stuff dreams are made of", and "...(he) brilliantly project(s) the music's theatrical excitement". No - he doesn't. Those are the very qualities which are conspicuously missing in Chauhan's Tchaikovsky. (What are they even listening to?) Both collections sound like well-played studio sessions rather than inspired performances, and aren't really distinguished or special in any way (other than the recorded sound). And I can't help but wonder - why this conductor? Why is Chandos recording all this Tchaikovsky with him?2  

Though this 3rd installment is a bit more engaging and musically rewarding than the 1st in the series, it didn’t bowl me over, or make me any more enthused about listening to the one that I skipped, or welcoming future installments. I suspect Chauhan will eventually record the remaining 3 Orchestral Suites, which might be tempting if for no other reason than the superb recorded sound. And I'm sure they're saving Romeo and Juliet for last, just to keep customers buying more discs.

1 There is a brief video of the recording session on YouTube where one can clearly see that there are in fact just 2 accordions used for this recording, rather than the 4 specified in the score - which might explain why the engineer felt the need to spotlight them with their own microphones, perhaps attempting to simulate more of them than there actually are. Tsk tsk. 

2 And why the blatant adulation from them? In the second volume for instance, there are no fewer than 11 pictures of him in various poses, alone and/or in front of the orchestra. (There are 5 in each of the 1st and 3rd volumes.) This kind of gratuitous "star" adoration in Classical music is not only off-putting (and more than a little nauseating), but simply embarrassing from a respected label like Chandos - especially when it is so completely unwarranted.

I feel sorry for the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. They got themselves a new hot-stuff conductor in 2020, and now a recording arrangement with Pentatone (although that’s not as prestigious as it once was), and this is what he chose for his debut recording with them? Italian clarinetist-turned-conductor Jader Bignamini claims in the booklet that conducting this work was an “unforgettable dream come true”. Really? Why? Of all the orchestral repertoire, classic to contemporary, this one by Wynton Marsalis was his dream piece? One wonders what’s the connection. Does he know Marsalis personally? Had he heard the piece before and was enthralled by it? What (or who) drew his attention to this? He doesn’t say - other than mentioning he has a love for jazz. (Surely he's not suggesting he considers this piece is jazz?)
 
What we have here is an hour-long “blues symphony”. I use quotations there (feel free to visualize my air quotes) because while it is (sort of) bluesy, it's certainly not a symphony. It’s more of a collection of (sort of) jazzy riffs organized into sections. And, as such, it is amusing for about the first 5 minutes before becoming tedious, repetitive and interminably boring. I’m not going to go into detail because there’s really not a lot to write about. All 7 movements are essentially the same thing - blues riffs all dressed up in different guises, with different tempos and different orchestration, over and over. It’s not even all that original; it tends to sound like an imitation of something else, just arranged for orchestra, and thus vaguely familiar all through - exacerbated by its lack of variety. The woodwinds and brass get prominent roles throughout, and there’s not much for the strings to do. In this setting, it's just musical blarney without much substance.
 
Sticking with formal Classical styles as descriptors, if anything this is actually more of a Concerto for Orchestra than a Symphony, as it features many opportunities for individual soloists within the orchestra to riff and raff in what sounds like (sort of) improvisational jam sequences - as opposed to anything even remotely resembling structured symphonic creation. But I will say, this is far and away better than that embarrassment of a piano concerto by Teddy Abrams in Kentucky a couple years ago (DG, 2023).
 
That being said, that this blues thing goes on for over an hour is simply absurd. I can’t imagine sitting in an audience listening to it live. (I wouldn’t, actually.) Nor can I imagine expecting an orchestra to play it. But to their inestimable credit, the orchestral playing is excellent and thoroughly committed. (And just a guess here, I'd venture to say this music comes more naturally to the musicians there in Detroit than it does to Bignamini.) And the recording is superb. I’m so happy to hear Pentatone producing such great sound after their abysmal 2023 Bartok release from San Francisco. And I was very happy to hear colorful orchestral sound and a spacious acoustic from Detroit Symphony Hall after the disappointing Rachmaninoff Symphonies on Naxos a decade ago (with Slatkin at the helm) - which sounded dry, lackluster and 2-dimensional. So hats off to Pentatone (for the sound, not the repertoire) and the fabulous Detroit musicians.  

I’m sure Bignamini is a fine conductor who is doing great things in Detroit (although the booklet makes absolutely no mention of it). However, this release doesn’t get me excited for future recordings from him. Perhaps if he were to conduct something which displayed his talents as a vibrant, inspiring conductor leading a world-class orchestra to musical heights, that might be something I'd be interested in. There are several YouTube videos out there of him conducting this orchestra in standard repertoire, and he’s very good at drawing engaging, musical performances from them (if not particularly exciting or insightful). There's also a fabulous Strauss Don Juan with him conducting the Frankfurt Radio Symphony. So I’d certainly welcome some of that on CD. But then, this is Pentatone, and they seem to like being a bit eclectic in what they record. So we shall see what happens.

In sum, I'm sure local concertgoers there in Detroit would absolutely love their hometown orchestra playing this piece in concert - all those familiar faces playing something completely different, jazzing around as if at the improv. And maybe the piece is more entertaining in a live performance, seeing how it all goes down. But listening to it at home on the hi-fi, it just didn't hold my interest for long. And while the recorded sound is excellent, it should be noted this Pentatone release is not SACD, but standard stereo CD - as is their wont nowadays. And their skimpy booklet doesn't even provide so much as a simple bio for either the conductor or the composer - which is odd, particularly for a debut album.