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. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The finale is somewhat better. The strings at last give us some passion, while Hindoyan keeps things simple and moving forward without weighing it down too much. And just as things are getting good, the first big climax arrives only to find the brass MIA. Again. It’s as if they’re off in an entirely different room. And the strings continue to produce a flat, rough-hewn wall of coarse-textured sound. Despite this, it's a moving performance of this movement. It's a pity the artificiality of the recording is such a constant distraction. 
 
Perplexed by the pronounced disparity in musical involvement and (especially) recorded sound between the two recordings on this CD, I turn to the booklet and immediately find an explanation. The Symphony was recorded at a live concert back in 2021, just after Hindoyan became the RLPO’s chief conductor. (This may actually have been the first concert of their inaugural season.) And the performance sounds like the orchestra and conductor are still getting acquainted and not entirely comfortable together yet. And one wonders why this overplayed, overfamiliar Tchaikovsky warhorse was chosen for this concert. I suppose it drew in a big crowd to welcome their new conductor. So I get that. But, given the mediocre recorded sound, why did Onyx then resurrect it 4 years later as coupling for a wonderful new recording of Souvenir de Florence?1 

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

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

1 One wonders what else was on that 2024 program along with Souvenir, and why Onyx didn’t give us that instead?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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