Hyperion and 30 years of musical exploration

Something about Hyperion Records brings out the record collecting anorak in me. Of all the new release listings that I get to look at in a month, few give as much anticipation as Hyperion's.

Added to that, none have inspired so many purchases from the cover image alone! A few people would say that's the worst way to buy things, but some of my very best musical discoveries have been made that way. So as the independent record label celebrates its 30th anniversary this month, I thought I would take a bit of time to consider how influential it has been on my musical life. Bear with me while I self-indulge a bit…

The first Hyperion record I bought was a tape – of Frank Bridge works for piano trio and quartet. I'd heard the 'Phantasie Trio' on Radio 3 and liked it – and it seemed perfect Autumnal music. Beautifully presented, performed and recorded, it has a special place in my collection. With such an auspicious start it wasn't long before more followed – and next up was the revelatory John Scott CD of Dupré organ works. I have known few moments as thrilling as when the 'Prelude and Fugue in B major' erupts from the speakers, a wall of euphoric sound that few can rival, music played at the highest possible voltage. Extra enjoyment is added on headphones, when turning the volume right up reveals the background sound of St Paul's Cathedral coming in to focus, before the organ sound blazes a trail across the sky.

Two more revelatory discoveries followed - firstly the sumptuous sound of Granville Bantock's 'Celtic Symphony', with massive string orchestra and twelve harps turning their hand to some infectious folk-inflected material - and then Tatiana Nikolayeva's recording of Shostakovich's '24 Preludes and Fugues', written for her and played with strong personality. Over 3 hours the sense of a musical voyage being made, through each major and minor key, is inescapable.

For me, Hyperion has excelled on pretty much every level it turns its hand to, though chamber and instrumental music is a real specialty. The Domus Piano Quartet recordings of Fauré are terrifically exciting, absolutely on the money technically but also deeply emotional. I have also greatly enjoyed the Salomon Quartet's recordings of Mozart and Haydn, which are currently hard to find but contain great personality and humour, proof that period instrument recordings don't have to be stripped back too far. On the piano I have especially enjoyed Steven Osborne's Debussy 'Préludes', Angela Hewitt's Schumann, and the bits I have heard of Leslie Howard’s monumental traversal of the complete piano works of Liszt. Yet among their piano canon one set of recordings stands out, that made by Howard Shelley early on in the label's history of the complete Rachmaninov piano works. These are not necessarily the most fiery of recordings, but have an honesty and clarity that I really warm to.

More recently my discoveries on the label have been vocal ones. Hearing a sensational concert of Richard Strauss at the Wigmore Hall by Anne Schwanewilms prompted me to go in search of her disc on the label, and I was not disappointed. Where Hyperion have triumphed in this respect is giving creative license to their accompanists, and building a series of songs around their direction. Roger Vignoles has done it for Strauss, and each disc is a winner, presenting the composer’s vocal output sensibly and in the company of great singers such as Christine Brewer, Christopher Maltman and Andrew Kennedy.

Choral music is another strong Hyperion preserve, and here I'd go for the Corydon Singers' recordings of Vaughan Williams (especially the Dona Nobis Pacem) and Rachmaninov (the Vespers, an outstanding performance). The Holst Singers have also charmed, and earlier recordings of Poulenc and Janacek by the New London Chamber Choir have proved very striking.

Early music is another field in which the label excels, and many Kings Consort recordings have brought this field alive for me. Chief among them is Handel's 'Water Music', coupled with an equally pictorial 'Water Music' by Telemann. I tried to play the cello part for this once and couldn't, so it was great to hear a cello section that could master it! Meanwhile Gothic Voices, under the leadership of Christopher Page, have made several cleverly themed CDs that celebrate the music of Mediaeval times. 'Music for the Lion Hearted King' was one that especially left its mark.

The gathering at a recent party to celebrate the label's achievement told its own story. Artists such as Stephen Hough, Steven Osborne, Angela Hewitt and Leslie Howard were all clearly delighted to be celebrating the label’s achievement, the boundaries between their administration, marketing and creative sides completely blurred.

So a very happy birthday Hyperion – and here's to another 30 years of musical exploration. My bank manager might not like you, but you're a real asset to classical music listeners in this country!

Sending classical music into Orbit

Almost imperceptibly, Decca have sneaked out a second volume of William Orbit's 'Pieces In A Modern Style'.

This may not seem like a massive event, but I remember the furore over the first album when Orbit was on Warners. Copyright issues prevented its release for a long time, and when it did finally come out in 2000 the reaction amongst many of the classical press was one of horror. It sold well, though, and introduced a lot of people to new music in the process.

Especially successful was his arrangement of Barber's 'Adagio for Strings' was hugely successful, a sort of cloudy synthesized registration that stayed faithful to the original, like a mottled Wendy Carlos. Orbit maintains this second volume is more to do with his love of the music rather than a desire to turn more people to classical music, which I firmly believe having interviewed him twice in recent years, but it may have the same effect once again.

It's fair to assume the classical press will continue in their indifference, especially when there are arrangements such as Elgar's 'Nimrod' to be heard. It seems here that Orbit has drawn from the success not just of Barber's 'Adagio' but also its remix by Ferry Corsten, who turned it into a floor filling trance music monster.

'Nimrod' ends up pitched some way in between, with some odd sounding bleeps and atmospherics that break down to a slightly psychedelic bit in the middle. Unfortunately the impact is harmed somewhat by the piece ending that bit too fast. Listening to it I was reminded of the time I tried to write a piece of trance music lifting the chords from Elgar's Cello Concerto, which was certainly unusual but petered out all too quickly once it had run its course.

Some of Orbit's arrangements stand the music on its head. 'Morning' from Grieg's 'Peer Gynt' has a very strange emphasis rhythmically, and while it loses a lot of its charm it benefits from an interesting choice of instrumentation. Likewise 'In Paradisum', which leans on Fauré's beautiful harmonic sleights in the last movement of his Requiem, while Bach's 'Arioso' tries some neat spatial tricks. Unfortunately Saint-Saëns' 'Aquarium', from 'Carnival of the Animals', is not so successful, laced liberally with cheese.

While the above proves is that these arrangements won't please everybody familiar with the originals, and might even annoy, but at no time is Orbit trying to preach from a soapbox. He simply loves the music, and wants to use his abilities in the studio to present it in a different light.

Even if the only thing to come out of the listening experience is a greater respect for the original, that surely has to be a good thing too.