Beneath the Surface #5 – Alwyn and Carwithen: Piano music

Composers: William Alwyn (English, 1905-1985); Doreen Carwithen (English, 1922-2003)

Works: Alwyn: Fantasy Waltzes (1955), Sonata alla Toccata (1946), Funeral Rites for the Death of an Artist, The Weather Vane (both 1931); Carwithen: Sonatina (1946)

Performers: Mark Bebbington (piano)

Label: Somm Recordings

Background and Critical Reception

William Alwyn is an almost exact contemporary of that other great British William composer, Walton, who enjoyed considerable success with public and royalty alike. Alwyn was not so prominent. He lived close to Benjamin Britten on the Suffolk coast, but his music did not reflect his surroundings in the same, vivid way.

Yet Alwyn was a successful composer of over 300 works, using many of the standard classical disciplines. His output includes over 70 scores for films such as The Odd Man Out, The Fallen Idol, The History of Mr Polly and The Magic Box. There are five symphonies, recorded by both Richard Hickox for Chandos and David Lloyd Jones for Naxos, a large orchestral and chamber music output, and over 100 piano works – of which six are heard on this disc.

As the pianist Mark Bebbington has discovered over the last decade or so, there is a vast amount of British music for the instrument that does not regularly see the light of day. He has undertaken a recording odyssey for the Somm label that has carried him through the slightly better known piano outputs of John Ireland and Frank Bridge, but has also unearthed rarities from composers such as Reginald King and William Matthias.

The piano music of Alwyn probably sits midway between those two extremes. The great John Ogdon performed the Fantasy Waltzes, recording them for Chandos in 1984 – and these make up the backbone of Bebbington's new disc, complemented with the smaller scale Sonata alla Toccata and four world premiere recordings, including the mini suite for children The Weather Vane.

Also included is a work by Mrs Alwyn – the composer Doreen Carwithen, who lived until as recently as 2003. Because she was so supportive of her husband's music, Carwithen did not publish much of her own, but she did write a Piano Concerto, the Suffolk Suite for orchestra and some appealing chamber works. Like Alwyn, she also wrote for film, mostly scoring smaller documentaries. Her Sonatina is heard here for the first time.


Thoughts

I found this disc appealing for both foreground and background listening, but if listening closely it tends to work better divided in half.

The Fantasy Waltzes work best on their own, being a substantial work of eleven pieces, some of which are as long as five minutes. They have melodic ideas aplenty, and Bebbington plays them with a combination of verve and intimacy.

On occasion the music can be a little dry in its harmonic language, but Alwyn largely approaches the challenge of writing in 3/4 in a number of imaginative ways, leaning a little on the music of Debussy and Ravel for inspiration. I enjoyed the subtle homage to the former composer found in the first and seventh waltzes in particular, but for me the pick of the pieces is the sixth, marked Allegro giocoso, its distinctive and sharply dotted theme played with a flourish by Bebbington, but with a contrasting central section of greater tenderness. The ninth waltz, marked Lento e lugubre, is darker, with an emphatic finish, while the second, a brief and charming piece, is notable for its twinkling right hand theme.

The piece I personally enjoyed the most was the shorter scale, ten-minute Sonata alla Toccata. The central Andante is utterly charming, its soft centre established by a really nice, restful chord on which a lot of the phrases land. The outer movements are bold and on a grand scale, the first movement firmly installed in C major with a brisk, invigorating theme, and the third a similarly inspiring call to arms.

The premiere recordings show how Alwyn could work just as well on a smaller scale, his miniature picture painting recalling the piano music of John Ireland. These are brief but intimate portraits, and those in The Weather Vane have an appealing, youthful charm. The Funeral Rites for the Death of an Artist are much heavier emotionally – the artist is unknown – while the short Bicycle Ride is a witty piece.

It is a nice touch to include music by Doreen Carwithen, and having heard the Sonatina I would certainly like to hear more. It is a very well proportioned piece that once again has the slow second movement as its emotional centre, with some beautifully wistful and dreamy music that Bebbington gets right to the heart of. Hers is an interesting musical personality, with a more open sound in the faster music than her husband perhaps, and an easy charm too.

Verdict

This is an attractive disc, suitable for later night listening and with moments of genuine inspiration. One or two of the Fantasy Waltzes were a little dry for me, but they are by and large a tuneful and invigorating set – while the shorter pieces have charm and wit aplenty.

Mark Bebbington and the Somm Recordings founder Siva Oke deserve great credit for their efforts to bring this and other British piano music in from the cold – and discs such as this prove they are absolutely right to do so.

Further listening

Bebbington's disc is not yet on Spotify, but this Mr and Mrs Alwyn playlist offers versions from the pianist Ashley Wass of the Fantasy Waltzes and the Sonata alla Toccata. I would also strongly recommend the single movement Piano Concerto no.1, an energetic and inventive piece, while the Violin Concerto is a much more sizeable and imposing achievement. Also included are some examples of the film music, and the short, neo-classical Concerto Grosso no.2. Carwithen's music can also be heard here, with the Piano Concerto and short but evocative Suffolk Suite included.

Claudio Abbado - some favourite recordings

The death of Claudio Abbado, announced on January 20, 2014, robbed classical music of one of its very finest living conductors – perhaps even the finest.

His recorded legacy, principally for Deutsche Grammophon, Decca and Sony, is far too large to do justice to in the course of a single article, but I wanted to pay some thanks to this wonderful conductor for leaving with us some very special music making indeed. The records chosen below are not necessarily his best loved, but they have stayed with me for a number of years now.

Haydn

Haydn was not necessarily one of Abbado's premier disciplines, but if my memory serves me right the first recording of his I ever heard was the Clock symphony, no.101, made with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. This is a wonderful recording that enjoys Haydn's pithy humour in the second movement, the tick-tock of the clock beautifully done.

Another recording I remember well is the Symphony no.102 in B flat major, another of the London symphonies, which is brisk and purposeful in the Minuet, like throwing open the curtains on a bright spring morning. It is a shame DG didn’t manage to get all twelve of the London symphonies recorded in time, but the seven completed have some extremely enjoyable music making.

Schubert

Abbado's Schubert has exceptional clarity and, in the case of the Symphony no.9 – the Great – a deeply impressive symphonic breadth. The Symphony no.5 in B flat I found to be absolutely charming, but one of the jewels in Abbado's crown where Schubert is concerned is a rare recording of the complete music for the ballet Rosamunde, with a couple of crisply sung choruses – for shepherds, spirits and huntsmen alike – that go with some utterly charming ballet music numbers.

Mendelssohn

In his time at the helm of the London Symphony Orchestra from 1979 until 1987, one of Abbado's greatest achievements was a cycle of Mendelssohn symphonies and overtures. Players from the orchestra speak in hushed tones of the results they achieved together on those recordings, and listening to the evergreen accounts it is easy to hear why. The overtures have a particular sparkle, with Ruy Blas and The Hebrides particularly masterful offerings of light and shade.
Even better for me are Abbado's recordings of the Scottish and Reformation symphonies, both very good examples of 'Sturm und Drang' in Mendelssohn. The rustic second movement of the Scottish is an absolute delight, while the Reformation simmers a tension that is joyously released in the major key chorale at the end.

Brahms

Several commentators have – somewhat unkindly – poured scorn on Abbado's time with the Berlin Philharmoniker. Although it may not have yielded one benchmark recording after another, I have never found his recordings less than enjoyable. In the case of his Brahms, though, I return again and again to his direction.

I should stress this is not Brahms for the purist, necessarily, but I personally love the sheer refinement of these performances, the sleek approach to orchestral texture that makes the Berliners purr like a luxury German saloon car. There are rough edges when needed, but Abbado tends to take a long term structural view of the symphonies, presenting them in one long, unbroken phrase. In the introduction to the First this is consistently rewarding, but the lilting subjects of the Second benefit from this treatment just as well. The 'fillers' are excellent as well, the substantial choral pieces that are all too rarely heard, and a taut performance of the Tragic Overture that is especially strong.

Mahler

Abbado enjoyed a special relationship with Mahler's music that carried right through to his time with the Lucerne Festival, and some unforgettable live performances of the Second (Resurrection) and Third symphonies.

My abiding memory of his discs for Deutsche Grammophon is a live recording of the Symphony no.1, a relatively early outing on the label with the Berliner Philharmoniker, made in the Philharmonie in 1989. For me this piece in particular works best live, and the emerging dawn of the first movement is a wonderful experience, as is the high spirited outdoors music on offer elsewhere. As far as I can tell this was Abbado's first Mahler for DG, the start of an extremely auspicious discography for the composer.

Prokofiev

Abbado's earlier recordings find him enjoying more twentieth-century repertoire, and it is perhaps a regret that he did not spend more time with modern composers.

A couple of DG discs – of Kurtág, Stockhausen and Sciarrino among others – reveal what he could do in this field, but it is in the earlier giants of the twentieth-century that he really excelled in the 1960s and 1970s. This Prokofiev disc, made with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, is highly revered, for it contains a Scythian Suite of formidable power, a demonstrative Lieutenant Kijé and a very deep performance of the cantata Alexander Nevsky.

Even now I feel as though I have just touched the tip of the iceberg when it comes to looking at Claudio Abbado's recorded output, for there are many more gems – especially operatic – that I look forward to exploring further. For now, though, it is time to thank him for the music!

Beneath the Surface #4 – Early and Late: Music from Greenland, Denmark and the Faroe Islands

ComposersRune Glerup (b1981), Pelle Gudmundsen-Holmgreen (b1932) and Sunleif Rasmussen (b1961)

Works: Glerup: Objets/décalages (2008); Gudmundsen-Holmgreen: Together or Not (2012); Rasmussen: Accvire (2008); Traditional works from Denmark, Greenland and the Faroes

Performers: Gáman [Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen (violin), Bolette Roed (recorder) and Andreas Borregaard (accordion)]

Label: Dacapo

Background and Critical Reception

Everything about this disc was new to me – composers and performers alike.

The Danish composer Rune Glerup, as his publisher's website states, 'goes in search of strange, almost absurd situations in music'. The piece, which can be read in full here, goes on to describe his music as alternating in violence and tenderness.

Pelle Gudmundsen-Holmgreen, also Danish, studied with one of the country's better-known twentieth-century composers, Vagn Holmboe. A brief biography for Music Sales describes him as a contrary individual, the picture often painted being 'that of a nay-sayer, an anti-expressive, anti-virtuoso, anti-romantic inveterate dissenter, a pessimist who does not believe in big metaphysical words and beautifully crafted unities'. This doesn't sound too promising – but the conclusion, that 'Time often stands still when one is in the company of his poetic beings', is much more hopeful.

Sunleif Rasmussen, meanwhile, is a Faroese composer whose work has already been heard through Dacapo. They have recorded his first symphony, subtitled Ocean Days, and an album of string quartets, the second of which is called Sunshine and Shadows. His website, perhaps not surprisingly, declares the Faroe Islands and the North Atlantic nature to be 'key factors to understanding his sensuous music, which bears indelible traces of wind, dunes, lyme grass and the ubiquitous Atlantic Ocean'.

Finally Gáman, a group who were formed in summer 2007 through a shared passion from Nordic folk music that has seen them perform traditionally inspired music from a number of different Nordic countries. On this disc alone they look at music from Greenland, Denmark and the Faroe Islands. They comprise violin, recorder and accordion, but for the Three Bridal Pieces from Sønderho at the centre of this disc they include a tin whistle, piano and melodeon.



The Danish record label Dacapo describe their disc in exalted terms: 'The rare combination of drum songs from Greenland, chain-dances from the Faroe Islands, wedding music from the island of Fanø and new sounds by three living composers'. This becomes 'an opportunity to dance, listen and immerse yourself in worlds of sound that surprisingly and enrichingly elucidate one another'.

Thoughts

This was a whole new venture for me, taking on a very intriguing mix of music from Scandinavia and the Arctic Circle. Dacapo give them a grand introduction indeed, but it is largely accurate, as the venture looks to compare and contrast traditional songs with new compositions for the less than usual combination of violin, recorder and accordion. The result is a sound world that was completely new and original to me.

The traditional songs complement the contemporary pieces perfectly. Gáman start with two Danish Svabo Polonaises, which ebb and flow with the rise and fall of the accordion, the trio making a bright sound with very little bass. The bright first Polonaise is countered by a more reflective second.

Ormurin langi, the first of the Faroese traditional songs, has a really attractive triple time lilt but still feels a bit off kilter, and has a really nice earthy feel from the accordion that goes with it. The second song, Regin Smiður is a slower, warm-hearted canon, performed over a drone. The other Faroese songs are rather winsome too, including the softly voiced Goodnight and farewell with which the disc ends.

The Greenlandic traditional songs give an idea of the remoteness of the far north, and the Qivittoq Song after Jakob Dorph in particular has a very distant quality to it. For these it is better to be sat in a quiet acoustic, then you can fully appreciate the pictures they draw.

At the centre of the disc lie Three Bridal Pieces of Danish origin, and these are light and fragile, at times as if they are traced with ice - but very tuneful at the same time.

Of the contemporary pieces, Rune Glerup's Objets/décalages explores some very weird sounds. The accordion sounds like a piece of machinery at times, making a chugging sound like a train. Then at around the three-minute mark there is an eerie quiet, with a very soft held note from violin and recorder alike, before feathery plucking sounds are heard. This is totally in keeping with the description of the composer above, alternating graceful and more violent thoughts, and is both fascinating and odd.

I was not so keen on Pelle Gudmundsen-Holmgreen's Together or Not, which I found became a little wearing with its reliance on the violin's opening strings in the closing section, despite a promising start with a reverberant recorder solo and some intersting timbres. The weary cough that the accordion makes is strangely charming, too – it sounds a bit like a sleepy animal.
Again this is a composer responding imaginatively to the constraints of the ensemble, but the material is stretched just that bit too far.

Rasmussen's Accvire hurries around at the start, the music sounding like a flock of birds jostling for position. This is the most substantial of the three new pieces for the ensemble, and in its central section it moves slowly and ponderously, the violin melody in slow motion. Then, leading up to the end, its energy returns, the lines darting in and out of each other until right at the end, where we suddenly and unexpectedly find a tonal centre, changing the outlook completely.

Verdict

One of the most invigorating things in music is listening to something completely new, something that opens your ears out further to music whose existence had passed you by. This is one of those discs, a captivating and at times hypnotic listen, painting in musical terms a strong sense of the cold experienced by these regions – but also the warmth they find in response.

For a completely different listening experience it is heartily recommended, especially to those already keen to dabble in world and folk music.

Further Listening

The Early & Late album can be heard in its entirety on Spotify here, and the liner notes are reproduced in their entirety by Dacapo here

Next week's listening - tbc

Beneath the Surface #3 – Bloch: Voice in the Wilderness, Schelomo; Caplet: Epiphanie

Composers: Ernest Bloch (Swiss-American, 1880-1959); André Caplet (French, 1878-1925)

Works: Bloch: A Voice in the Wilderness (1936), Schelomo (1916); Caplet: Epiphanie (1923); Ravel: Kaddisch (1914)

Performers: Raphael Wallfisch (cello), BBC National Orchestra of Wales / Benjamin Wallfisch

Label: Nimbus

Background and Critical Reception

Ernest Bloch has a fascinating biography. Born in Geneva, he moved around Europe before settling in the US in 1916, taking up citizenship eight years later. Early studies were with the great violinist-composer Ysaÿe in Belgium, while later in America he taught the maverick George Antheil and Roger Sessions.

A Jewish composer, Bloch often looked to his heritage and culture when writing music, as well as incorporating elements of the Baroque in dramatic works such as two Concerti Grossi for piano and strings. Yet his harmonic language could often be strikingly original, as it was in his Violin Sonatas, Symphony in C# minor and Violin Concerto. His time in America yielded a number of works delighting in his new-found heritage, such as the Sacred Service and the patriotic rhapsody for orchestra America. Despite his new found surroundings Bloch often made strong references to his Jewish roots, with modal scales that link closely to the musical language.

André Caplet, meanwhile (on the left in the picture) is known primarily as the composer who orchestrated a number of works by Debussy (also in the picture) – yet he was to win the Prix de Rome in 1901 with his cantata Myrrha, emulating last week’s composer Dukas. Of his Debussy orchestrations, Children’s Corner, Le Martyre de Saint-Sébastien and the celebrated version of Clair de lune all passed through his hands. Yet as a composer Caplet has a substantial output of that features some highly regarded if seldom heard vocal music. He died as a result of health complications sustained from World War I.

Thoughts

This disc is themed around the Holocaust, and was in fact released by Raphael and Benjamin Wallfisch and Nimbus to mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day on 27 January.

Bloch’s prayerful style of writing for the cello is ideally suited to the instrument, his melodies finding the strongest possible penetration from its tone. The disc opens with his Voice in the Wilderness, a 25 minute piece for cello and orchestra in six linked sections, written during a return to Switzerland in 1936. It is not as well known than Schelomo but is nonetheless a very emotive utterance.

Raphael Wallfisch probes hidden depths when the cello is cast adrift in its opening lament, before finding impressive strength in depth for the solo utterance that becomes the fifth section. The orchestra give him terrific support, and the clarion call of the third section is sharply caught by the recording engineers. The closing meditation is tremendous, with a really big but remarkably clear sound from the BBC National Orchestra of Wales brass. They are superb throughout, and here get a surefooted high register response from Wallfisch. The highlight for me was the terrific third section, marked Moderato, where there is a bright clarion call from the orchestra, with a real strength of feeling, before the cellist enters with assertive chords.

Bloch’s writing is quite modal, as described above, which often gives the music a closer relationship to folk melodies, meaning that sometimes his music is not a million miles from Vaughan Williams as a result. The cello’s ascent in the middle of the final section typifies this.

Schelomo, meanwhile, is a less sectional piece, about the same length as Voice in the Wilderness. Subtitled Rhapsodie hébraïque, it is a setting of melodies Bloch had written down as possible settings for songs of Solomon, from the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes. Because Bloch felt his grasp of Hebrew was not strong enough to set them directly to music, the cello provided him with a solution – so this work is effectively a group of songs without words.

That would explain the highly charged lyrical content, and cellist and orchestra feel more united here, singing with one voice. There is time for contemplation but often there is a deep seated anger, bristling just beneath the surface but sometimes surging forward through crescendos in the whole orchestra.

Again in this recording the balance between the two forces is just right. Schelomo really comes across as a powerful and anguished work in this performance, and the orchestra play brilliantly, especially the brass. The ending is downbeat – a rarity for Bloch – and completely convincing here, with cellist and orchestra completely immersed in the music they have just made.

The Caplet makes a fascinating coupling, and in his booklet notes Alexander Knapp draws out similarities between the styles of the two composers. In the case of Epiphanie there is a more obviously Eastern influence to the writing and some of the scoring here, from the tentative first forays made by the cello to the bigger, more confident display music that takes place in the centre of the second movement.

This confidence indicates that Caplet was a composer of whom more should be heard. The piece starts suspended in the treble register, with a sweetly voiced violin solo, and a distinctive sighing melody is heard. Yet the most original feature is the inclusion of a softly pulsing bass drum, a featured of Ethiopian music of which Caplet was aware. It gives the piece a completely new and original dimension, and opens the ears towards the composer’s inventive orchestration, which features some inventive colours from the woodwind as well as original cello writing. Again Wallfisch is alive to all of these elements, and plays with a technical surety that gives this piece the best possible advocacy, especially in the virtuosic final section.

The inclusion of an arrangement of Ravel’s Kaddisch is a nice and effective complement, especially given its Jewish origins. Raphael Wallfisch again plays with deep seated commitment, and his style is beautifully mellow. In the moments where the music is more suspended it is possible to detect pointers towards the meditative qualities of pieces such as John Tavener’s The Protecting Veil.

I could hardly imagine a better or more profound memorial for the members of the Wallfisch family killed in the Holocaust, to whom this disc is dedicated. Reading that part of the programme note alone provides a stark reminder in this, the World War I centenary year, that music has played a significant part in helping its performers and listeners come to terms in some way with the atrocities of the time.

Verdict

I found this disc very moving, especially in the context of the World War I anniversary. Raphael Wallfisch plays with an intensity that seems to be even greater than his other concerto recordings, while the orchestral playing and recording is exceptionally vivid. This is music whose melodies and colours can be greatly appreciated with repeated listening, where the music also becomes more directly affecting. It is very highly recommended.

Further Listening

Click on this link to access a Spotify playlist that begins with the four works on this disc in alternative versions, before exploring more Bloch through the Concerto Grosso no.1, the Violin Concerto, the three pieces for violin and orchestra Baal Shem and the rhapsody America.

Next week’s listening - Early and Late: An exploration of folk music from the Middle Ages and today from Denmark, Greenland and the Faroe Islands

Beneath the Surface #2 – Dukas: The Sorcerer's Apprentice, Cantate Velléda and Polyeucte

Composer: Paul Dukas (French, 1865-1935)

Works: The Sorcerer's Apprentice (1897), Polyeucte (1891), Cantate Velléda (1888)

Performers: Les Siècles, François-Xavier Roth

Label: Actes Sud Musicales

Background and Critical Reception

Paul Dukas was a French composer and critic, a man of few published works but one who is rightly regarded as one of the pioneers in his country’s abundance of fine composers in the twentieth-century. He has remained in the shadow of his more famous friend, Debussy, but in the little music he has left us there is clearly an accomplished mind at work.

Dukas was an intensely self-critical man, and a number of setbacks during his training at the Paris Conservatoire knocked his confidence. This means we only get to hear a very small proportion of his output, with just three works making it through to publication in the 1890s for instance. One of these, L’apprenti Sorcier (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice), by far his most successful work, enjoying prominence in his output at the expense of almost everything else. It was used by Disney for the Fantasia film in 1940, since when it has often been heard on television and adverts, and it makes a sparkling concert opener.

It is rare indeed for anything else by Dukas to be heard in the concert hall, which is a shame as there are a number of important works. His Symphony in C is highly regarded and has been recorded by conductors such as Charles Munch, Leonard Slatkin and Yan Pascal Tortelier, while his more descriptive music includes the single act ballet from 1912, La Péri. For the piano he wrote a formidable and unusual Piano Sonata in 1902, taking Beethoven as his inspiration in a work that lasts around 40 minutes, exerting massive technical demands on its performer.

Just one published opera survives in the Dukas output, the three-act Ariane et Barbe-bleue from 1907, adapted from a play by Maurice Maertelinck and admired the following year by Schoenberg, Berg and Webern. Like all of the composer’s music, however, it has not enjoyed the popularity of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.



This new disc from Les Siècles and François-Xavier Roth begins with that piece, but uses it cleverly as an overture for the main act, a first ever recording of the cantata Velléda. This is a piece Dukas submitted for the Prix de Rome in 1888, setting a prescribed text by Fernand Beissier. It secured him second place (the prize winner was Camille Erlanger) in a year that also included Debussy’s La Damoiselle élue.
Velléda tells the story of an impossible love affair between a Roman (Eudore) and a druidess (Velléda), who is driven to suicide by her own father. It is set as a cantata in a prelude and three substantial scenes, the whole work clocking in at roughly half an hour.

The disc ends with the overture Polyeucte, a response to Pierre Corneille’s tragic tale completed in 1891, when the composer’s confidence was at a particularly low ebb. However this piece was modelled on a template from the Prix de Rome itself, and is described in the booklet for this release as the ‘polar opposite’ of L’apprenti sorcier.

Thoughts

Often the best way to discover a composer’s less familiar side is to listen to a disc that contains one of their most popular works. This new release is ideal, for by beginning with L’Apprenti Sorcier it sets the scene perfectly. The thoroughbred receives a really enjoyable performance here, partly because Les Siècles are performing it on instruments of the period. With a little less vibrato but no compromise on instrumental colour, the slightly reduced forces give a sharply defined performance, operating at quite a quick tempo. Roth brings out the jauntiness of the bassoon theme and its repetitions elsewhere in the orchestra, while not losing the ability to make his audience jump with sudden loud dynamics, and the whole performance puts a smile on the face.

After this the prelude to Velléda feels like a luxury, with some lovely languid orchestral textures boosted by a softly swooning violin solo. As the music unfolds you can really get an idea of Dukas’ orchestral craft, as he creates some beautiful sounds.

It is at this point that the influence of Wagner reveals itself – and this was a key element for a large number of French composers, Debussy included, who were writing at the time. As Velléda progresses so it is clear Wagner’s penchant for long phrases and sumptuous textures is something Dukas also aspires to. Vocally he writes very well, and both soprano Chantal Santon and tenor Julian Dran, playing the lovers, benefit as they float above the orchestra.

The Polyeucte overture is a treat. It is also highly Wagnerian but does not become heavy going thanks to its lucid orchestration, which Roth brings out in this colourful performance. Most of it is slow, and though the underlying current is quite tragic, the music is poignant and largely warm hearted. The faster episodes are optimistic and supply energy where needed, but the piece ultimately subsides to a restful close.

Although these are live recordings they are very well reproduced.

Verdict

I’m not quite sure that Velléda is the best piece to start with for Dukas – the Symphony in C might be a better bet – but if you are not yet familiar with The Sorcerer’s Apprentice then I would endorse this beautifully documented disc without hesitation. Once you’ve heard Velléda a few times you ought to find it easier to get swept up in the drama, while Polyeucte is a thoroughly enjoyable and colourful postscript.

Further Listening

A Spotify playlist will appear shortly

Next week's listening tbc

Beneath the Surface #1 – Kabalevsky: Cello Concertos nos.1 & 2

Composer: Dmitri Kabalevsky (Russian, 1904-1987)

Works: Cello Concerto no.1 in G minor Op. (1949); Cello Concerto no.2 in C minor Op.77 (1964); Suite from Colas Breugnon, Op.24 (1938)

Performers: Torleif Thédeen (cello), NDR Radiophilharmonie Hannover / Eiji Oue, Adrian Prabava (conductors)

Label: CPO

Background and Critical Reception

Dmitri Kabalevsky was born in St Petersburg, and studied piano and composition at the Moscow Conservatory where his teachers included Miaskovksy. An uncredited obituary from the Musical Times, quoted on Wikipedia, describes his music rather uncharitably as 'popular, bland and successful'.

Kabalevsky wrote a lot of music for his first instrument, including four piano concertos and a large amount of solo piano music, but he was also comfortable writing for strings. As well as the two Cello Concertos there is a single-movement Violin Concerto, while his chamber music includes two String Quartets and numerous works for violin and cello with piano accompaniment.

He also completed a number of stage works, of which the three-act opera Colas Breugnon, completed in 1938, is the best known, with its overture often extracted for concert performance or compilation discs.

In my experience Kabalevsky has often been tagged on to the coat tails of Shostakovich and Prokofiev, as he writes in a style that can sometimes be seen as derivative of them. Thankfully some record companies, Naxos, Chandos and CPO in particular, have moved to rectify this with recordings of the concertos and chamber music.

Thoughts

My immediate thoughts of this disc and its music are very positive. The two Cello Concertos are very different animals. The first is quite playful, the cello writing sometimes carrying the influence of Tchaikovsky, but it also has a soft centre that reveals itself fully in the elegiac second movement, where Torleif Thédeen really invests a lot of passion into his playing. The pizzicato theme that begins the first movement is nicely done and establishes the good spirits of the piece, while the finale zips along, a little elusive at times but working through to an enjoyable conclusion.

By contrast the second concerto is a brow-beaten work that begins rather ominously. It has a greater depth of feeling than its companion and has a largely stern expression, too, turning in on itself as the cello keeps its own private company – as if marking the passing of a friend. Played without a break, it begins ominously over low double basses, before cutting abruptly to a jagged scherzo. The woodwind eventually calm this down before the main subject returns. The second movement melts, the emotional centre of the work, before the last movement - largely energetic - moves towards a major key. Kabalevsky still manages to charm in the faster music, his melodic invention strong as ever.

The extra 'filler', the Colas Breugnon Suite, is good fun. While not as emotionally rewarding, it still has a strong energy and a frothy mood that makes it easy to listen to – and there are once again a number of good tunes, tempered by a tragic element that surfaces in the third movement, marked Fleau Publique. Adrian Prabava conducts a good performance and enjoys the humour the score has to offer.

Verdict

This is an excellent disc from CPO, extremely well played and recorded, although the booklet notes have a rather loose translation at times. The music itself is confidently written, and Kabalevsky proves to be an extrovert composer with a keen sense of structure and melody who rarely outstays his welcome. The two concertos complement each other very well, one humourous and the other ravaged, and while the Suite may stretch its ideas out a little it still manages to charm. Fans of Shostakovich or Prokofiev are urged to try it out!

Further Listening

A Spotify playlist containing the Cello Concertos, the Piano Concerto no.2, the Cello Sonata and the Overture to Colas Breugnon can be found here.

Next week's listening - Dukas: Velléda, Polyeucte and The Sorcerer's Apprentice

Introducing Beneath the Surface

Second Lute Song (I) – Gloriana by Jane Mackay – her visual response to Benjamin Britten's music, used with many thanks to the artist. Her Sounding Art website can be found here.

As a new year starts I am taking up a musical resolution, alongside the other writing about pop and classical that I'm doing. This is to listen to and review one new album per week of music – mostly classical – that is not often heard.

There are several reasons for this, and most lie in the spirit of discovery. In my experience the classical music that gets the most exposure does so because of a big name artist, a big name composer, a major record label – or a combination of those three. And yet a look at a mail order company such as MDT confirms there are several hundred classical CDs released every month. Many of these do not receive much coverage even in the specialist press and websites.

While new recordings and performances of Beethoven symphonies are without question valid and welcome, they often take the spotlight away from some of classical music's deserving lesser lights. Some of these reward further investigation and should have a much greater presence!

So this is what Beneath the Surface is all about – discovering new music through new releases. This can be either the work of a new composer or an unfamiliar work from an established composer. Even Beethoven has his dark corners!

I aim to listen to one new release over the course of a week and then write about it. This year I would like to include some of those composers enjoying anniversary years, so you can expect the symphonies of Andrej Panufnik, born 100 years ago, some C.P.E. Bach and Gluck (both born 300 years ago) and even a bit of the Russian composer Liadov, who died 100 years ago. Where possible I will provide links to streaming and further listening.

We begin tomorrow with the two cello concertos of Kabalevsky, but who knows where this listening enterprise could take us?

If you read this and have a composer or release you think would deserve closer inspection, please do not hesitate to get in touch! I'm keen to involve as many people as possible.