Friday, 4.27.07, 4:49 pm
Classical Performances
Christian Tetzlaff and Janáček’s “Pilgrimage of the Soul”
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Last week, Christian Tetzlaff performed with the National Symphony Orchestra in Czech-themed concerts led by Jiří Bĕlohlávek, where he played… Mozart. (Mozart isn’t technically Czech… but was in love with – and loved by – Prague.) The central European fare of Dvořák’s Othello Overture, Smetana’s Richard III symphonic poem op.11 and Vltava (“Die Moldau”) from Má vlast was very fine, even if Smetana’s rambling and rather derivative Shakespeare tribute didn’t live up to the rest.
But there was a hidden gem and surprise in the concert and it was the Janáček Violin Concerto “Pilgrimage of the Soul” or “Wanderings of the (little) Soul” that Christian Tetzlaff – on double duty – played in the second half. The concerto is a relative rarity because Janáček never finished the composition and it had not been heard until September 1988 when Leoš Faltus und Miloš Štedron (restored and put together the score from which violinist Jan Stanovsky and the Brno Philharmonic gave the world premiere under conductor Petr Vronský. A little over a year later, Raymond Kobler and the San Francisco Philharmonic gave the US premiere under Herbert Blomstedt. Last Thursday’s performance by Tetzlaff and Bĕlohlávek was the Washington premiere.
The work is made up of two drafts and music that was intended for the Violin Concerto but ended up in the overture (and third act) of Janáček’s last opera, “From the House of the Dead”. The year of its conception, 1926, makes it a late work, created around the time that the Glagolitic Mass, the Sinfonietta, and the Capriccio were composed. That he left the concerto unfinished and recycled its music in the opera in a much changed order might hint at disatisfaction with the short, ca. 12 minute long, work. Perhaps he thought the use of the material was not concise enough, or too episodic. And indeed, one block, or theme, appears after another, like pearls on a string, without a notable climax or obvious ending. (Which was perhaps the reason why the Washington audience was apprehenisvely silent for a few seconds after the performance… although I should like to think they had simply been overwhelmed by Tetzlaff’s playing.)
But even if Janáček had a problem with his work, we ought to be glad that it has been rescued. Not just out of curiosity (which is the most ever could be said about the Elgar “Piano Concerto”, for example), but because it is a genuinely fine piece of composition, worthy of the best that Janáček wrote toward the end of his career. I had heard it before on record, but apparently forgotten it no sooner than I listened to it. Hearing it live therefore turned out a most delightful discovery. It’s stark and naked in the opening with the violin accompanied by timpani alone. (A 1992 performance with the Radio-Sinfonie-Orchester Basel used 11 timpani!). The soloist then rarely stops in a wild ride as a chorus of brass enters, winds squabble away in the background, harps plucking along. The concerto has drive and energy to spare, beautiful dissonance and is of such challenging beauty as to assuredly fascinate the “finer ears”. It is brief, too, which, much like in writing, is more virtue than detriment.
I heard all kinds of exciting new things – too many to really assign labels, though “Stravinsky” came to mind more than once. Its fluctuating and audacious moods toy with the listener which in turn reminded of Schnittke’s Fourth Violin Concerto recently heard in New York.
Here Tetzlaff was the player I expected him to be: a bona fide member of the “intellectual violinist” category where he resides among other notables such as Frank Peter Zimmerman, or Thomas Zehetmair. One might say that they are the last exponents of the “German School” of violinism – although that distinction among national lines is hardly possible anymore when, technically, there exist but different variations on the “Russian School” these days. But what Tetzlaff and the others mentioned – include Julia Fischer among them, if you wish – are decidedly not, are the “Gypsy fiddler” type whose fierce temperament will break through in every work they touch. Rather, their approach tends to be cool, executed with superior skill, calculated musicality, and little exaggeration. Technical difficulties don’t seem to exist – and it is in part the ease with which they can play their repertoire that some might get the impression of less than 100% involvement.
While Tetzlaff played most of the preceeding Third Violin Concerto of Mozart’s as if to defy that label (not to his advantage, as I felt), the Janáček was ‘in character’ and stunning. Crystlline, as if the music had been etched into the concert hall, effortless. He was in high form; his playing a joy to behold.
Rarely heard as it may be, the concerto is surprisingly well represented on disc. There are, by my count, seven recordings of it, most of them available. The talented, young and lovely Baiba Skride has just released it on Sony (recorded in 2004 with Marek Janowski and the RSO Berlin). Josef Suk and the Czech Philharmonic under Václav Neumann recorded it first in 1989 (first a Supraphon LP, later re-issued as a CD). Neumann recorded it again, just one year later, this time with Christiane Edinger and the South West German RSO (SWF Sinfonieorchester) for the super budget RCA/Arte Nova label. In 1991, three violinists recorded it: Jan Stanovský with the Janáček-Philharmonie Ostrava under Petr Vronský (Direkt CD), Thomas Zehetmair and the Philharmonia Orchestra under Heinz Holliger (Warner/Apex), and of course Tetzlaff himself with the Philharmonia under Libor Pešek, on Virgin Classics – also re-issued as a budget recording (oop ?). In 1992 Supraphon made another recording, this time with Ivan Ženatý, the Brno Philharmonic and František Jílek. Having been so intrigued by the concert, I’ll try to hunt down these recordings (I have Edinger, so far) and if one were to stand out, particularly, I will ammend this post with a recommendation or suggestion.
Those intrigued by Tetzlaff’s artistry are well advised to look for his recordings of Bartók Violin Sonatas with Leif Ove Andsnes, the complete works for Violin by Sibelius (both Virgin), and a terrific Beethoven Concerto with David Zinman on Arte Nova which is more than just an inexpensive alternative to the difficult-to-get Zehetmair recording (Frans Brüggen / Philips) I adore.
Thursday, 4.19.07, 4:19 pm
New Releases: CDs
Rawsthorne, String Quartets, Maggini Quartet
"New Releases" posts are regular columns that feature reviews of new CDs that are, for one reason or another, truly outstanding among the many I come across every month.
![]() A. Rawsthorne, String Quartets, Maggini Quartet |
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Bartók, Shostakovich, Ligeti on tranquilizers, Reger, and even Beethoven wafted by my musical nose when listening to this tremendous disc of Alan Rawsthorne’s String Quartets with the Maggini Quartet. Indeed, there was even a hint of Bach to be had. Admittedly, if you don’t like the most difficult of those just mentioned composers, don’t bother with this release. But if you do, you’ll be surprised how easy these works are on the ear; how they please despite plenty dissonance and stress. They are all in some way built around themes and variations – and the disc includes the so-titled work for two violins as well. It’s an hour of the very highest quality 20th century chamber music (the quartets date from 1939, 54, and 64 – I like them all; the third most), and easily the happiest string quartet discovery for me since happening upon the Bloch quartets or Villa-Lobos’ works in that genre (both of which ought to be had!). Once this disc was in my player, I listened through the whole thing in one sitting. Trice. The Maggini Quartet plays up to the same high standards that anyone who knows their other discs for Naxos has already come to expect. Even if it sounds redundant: To those who think they might like this (and you know who you are), this is most warmly recommended!
Rawsthorne: Naxos 570136
Bloch: Decca 4756071
Villa Lobos: Brilliant Classics 6634
Tuesday, 4.17.07, 2:11 pm
Classical Performances
Lasting Beethoven: András Schiff and Miklós Perényi in Concert
![]() L.v. Beethoven, Works for Cello & Piano, András Schiff and Miklós Perényi |
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On Wednesday, April 18th at 8PM, the Library of Congress will present András Schiff and Miklós Perényi in an all-Beethoven concert in the Coolidge Auditorium. After the Jerusalem Quartet’s performance last week (sadly cut short by a political fire alarm), it is the second high profile and most promising concert this month at the Library – and easily worth skipping Evgeny Kissin’s recital for. I hope it will last a little longer than 2/3 into the first work, because Schiff and Perényi are a splendid pair in the Sonatas for Piano and Cello. Their ECM recording from 2004 of the complete works for cello and piano is on the top of my heap (among modern recordings), despite stiff competition from Brendel père et fils (Philips, 2005) and Pieter Wispelwey and Dejan Lazic (Channel Classics, 2005). (The ‘other’ Schiff, Heinrich, together with Till Fellner – Philips, 2000, is absurdly out of print.) With András Schiff is at either his (preferred) Bösendorfer or the LoC Steinway he might play, he is not a pianist that is going to be deferent to his cello playing colleague. These are sonatas for piano and cello – in that order – and although there is little hierarchy with the two instruments being colleagues and equal partners, the piano need not – nor indeed should it – try to tread softly. Fellow Hungarian Miklós Perényi knows how to fend for himself next to a bold piano part. Although his tone is not the most burnished or the biggest, his fine cellism (too good a word not to make up – except a quick Google search shows me that I’m hardly the first to do so… very disappointing), agility and grace make him every bit an equal partner.
The two will offer one early, middle, and late sonata with op.5, no.1 (F-major), op.69 (A-major), op.102, no.1 (C-major) – although the hidden gem may well be the less often played Variations from the Magic Flute – “Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen” op.66. In op.69 you can catch two (subtle and brief) references to the “Es ist vollbracht” (”It is accomplished”) from the Johannes Passion right after the sonata takes a turn to a-minor, about six/seven minutes into the first movement. If Beethoven’s cello sonatas are towering intellectual works that push the form to new boundaries, the Magic Flute variations are just the mix of light-hearted genius and joviality that entertain the ear without making much claim on the brain.
The ticket supply for this performance is probably exhausted – but, as the Library states and is my experience, “there are often empty seats at concert time. Interested patrons are encouraged to try for standby seats at the will-call desk in the Jefferson Building by 6:30 p.m. on concert evenings. Contact: (202) 707-5502.”
Thursday, 4.12.07, 3:20 pm
New Releases: CDs
Beethoven, Piano Concertos, Pletnev
"New Releases" posts are regular columns that feature reviews of new CDs that are, for one reason or another, truly outstanding among the many I come across every month.
![]() L.v. Beethoven, Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 3, Pletnev / Gansch / RNO |
How much can an interpreter say anew about a piece played by just about every pianist under the sun and of which there are well over 100 different recordings to choose from? Beethoven’s Piano Concertos and Symphonies are the object of Mikhail Pletnev’s new recordings which Deutsche Grammophon will issue over the course of the next year. Pletnev, a superb and wilful pianist, would be the person to do just that – without necessarily distorting the music. Sometimes to triumphant and enjoyable effect (Scarlatti, Mozart), sometimes with more arguable success. Together with “his” Russian National Orchestra – which has more or less avoided becoming a pawn in the political games of Moscow (you can read more about that on ionarts) – he made 2006 a ‘Beethoven Year’ (a subtly unsubtle political message when everybody else was busy extolling the virtues of Shostakovich). His performances of the concertos in the Beethoven Haus in Bonn resulted in DG’s live recordings, the first of which was issued this March.
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Sure enough, Pletnev does things just a bit different. Concertos No.1 in C-major, op.15 and No.3 in c-minor, op.37, from the first notes on, sound a little extra bold, a little extra fresh; capricious, perhaps, but with the light and joyful touch that made his Mozart so oddly irresistible. There is an insubordinate spark and a twinkle in his notes I don’t hear from other pianists. (This is quite in contrast to how Pletnev looks when he is playing, which is rather miserable as Sviatoslav Richter had remarked a long time ago and which still hasn’t changed.) The performances appear faster than they already are – impetuous at times. And amid general beauty and excitement, Pletnev does have a few surprises to offer. The stuttering breakdown in the cadenza of the C-major concerto’s third movement is accentuated in such a way that it sounds like a genuinely different piece of music, although the notes (and their order) are apparently all the same.
Upon first hearing the effect is rather “what-the-hell”, and there was much comparing to other favorite recordings of mine (Uchida, Aimard – where that moment flutters by without much notice), and head-scratching. But these overly vigorous accents, syncopations, and the shifting of balances are supposed to be the soloist’s realm of fancy and they contribute rather than distract. For one, they make you listen closely to the music… something which may not be as much a given in these warhorses as we’d like to admit to ourselves. The RNO proves to be Russia’s finest orchestra (if not its most Russian) and Pletnev’s usual record producer (!) Christian Gansch (a pianist, former violinist for the Munich Philharmonic, and – as evident here – conductor) leads them through the concertos with aplomb, though notably as an extension of the soloist’s will. It’s a release that has me most eagerly anticipate the second installment (concertos 2 & 4) later this year.
DG 477 6415
Friday, 4.6.07, 12:26 pm
Classical Performances
Music for Easter
| Pachelbel – Easter Cantatas |
| Byrd – Gradualia |
| Buxtehude – Membra Jesu Nostri |
The first opera I ever saw was Richard Strauss’ rather obscure Die Feuersnot. I was nine years old and taken by my piano teacher to celebrate my admission to the choir I was about to join. Not that I was aware of it then, but that opera was conducted by Heinz Fricke, music director at the Washington National Opera. Earlier this week, the WNO arranged for a half-hour interview with Maestro Fricke. It ended up being a three hour chat and forgot to ask my questions. Just before I left, I remembered this weeks’ WETA post, though, and asked whether there was any particular music for Easter that he liked. He thought about it for a while (which made me feel better, because I still had not come up with much beside Wagner’s Parsifal, Bach’s eight cantatas for Easter, the Easter-Oratorio, and the St. John Passion), and then added: Anything by Bach really. Maybe not the Christmas-Oratorio, but the only reason to exclude that is its name.
Well, if intent or textual setting of the music are not the determining factor, but the way the music feels, I suggest that anything by Bruckner should be appropriate. Not the “Zero”, the First, and Second Symphony, Fricke contends, but the rest, yes, more or less. There is church in all of Bruckner’s symphonies, anyway, as he seems to have composed them all on the organ bench.
Easter-music speculations didn’t go much further, because with my suggesting the finale of Mahler’s third symphony, we are now talking ‘Bruckner-Mahler’ and all else is forgotten. (He loves the former but has never really found to the latter; I love the former but am obsessed with the latter).
There are of course innumerable other works that are composed specifically for Easter, but I was looking for popular works that happen to be appropriate for Easter.
Johann Pachelbel is popular, but not for his Easter Cantatas (but instead that massively overplayed Canon which, if I were never to hear it again, I’d be no sadder a man for it). They are lovingly recorded by Roland Wilson and La Capella Ducale on the CPO label. There is a stunningly well sung recording (ASV/Gaudeamus – Andrew Carwood, The Cardinall’s Musick) of William Byrd’s music for Easter (volume 6 of a series of all his vocal music), but Byrd is more likely thought to be a spelling mistake than a composer. Dietrich Buxtehude is known to organ buffs, but calling him popular would be missing the mark. He wrote a cantata cycle called Membra Jesu nostri; seven cantatas written about Jesus on the cross. Literally – because they are about looking at him, as observed from nearby, and categorized by body-part. (Feet, knees, hands, side, breast, heart, facial expression.) Cantus Cölln and Konrad Junghänel deliver this fascinating work with their usual consummate skill (HMU) and no baroque-lover in search for the slightly-off-the-beaten-path work should miss it.
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But I really just end up back with Bach. The Easter Oratorio is sometimes looked upon as a lesser work, because it’s put together from an earlier (secular – Bach only re-used from secular to sacred, not the other way around) cantata and therefore not very ‘original’. (Well, neither is the Christmas concerto, which stems from more recycled material than your average Yoghurt container, and we still listen to that without complaints, right?) It is rarely performed but you can enjoy it on record with Philippe Herreweghe and his Collegium Vocale (HMU). It’s a performance not likely to be bettered – and as all the best of Herreweghe’s performances do, it transcends the “period instrument” (or not) divide. Philippe Herreweghe and his group from Gent will come to New York this Easter Sunday and perform the other great Easter-appropriate work of Bach’s, the St. John Passion.
To hear him with the musicians from the Collegium Vocale in this sublime work (which has no reason to shy from comparison with the mightier St. Matthew Passion) is a very special opportunity and it is difficult to put in words how much I am looking forward to Sunday at Alice Tully Hall. It is bound to be an event that will undoubtedly be musically gratifying – but also bring a spiritual quality with it that is extraordinary and fulfilling. It is not necessary to be of a particular creed or to believe at all: If you are open to music, the music of Bach (followed at some distance by above mentioned Bruckner) is the closest to a deep sense of – for lack of a better word – the divine that an atheist (such as I’ll openly admit to being) can come.
There is not a group or conductor around whom I’d rather ‘receive’ this work from. With Konrad Jarnot (Christus), Christoph Prégardien (Evangelist), Camilla Tilling (soprano), Ingeborg Danz (alto), Jan Kobow (tenor), and Peter Kooij (bass) as his soloists and his fabled group, he is bound to create similar miracles that I know so well from his many records. If there are two conductors in Bach where I’d grab anything blindly and without sampling; Herreweghe is one of them. Karl Richter is the other – which goes to show that particular ‘style’ is not what defines greatness in this music (Richter is decidedly not a “Historical Performance” conductor), but inspiration, dedication, and quality. Or, with an eye to the choir and orchestral forces: It’s not size that matters, but what you do with it. That’s what I’ve always been told, and it seems to be true. None of his cantata discs are less than excellent; the cantata disc titled “Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen…” is among the very finest I have ever heard of Bach on record. His St. Matthew Passion (either recording, but especially the second) must be among the three, four top choices, and wherever there is mention of Harnoncourt, Gardiner, Richter, or Rilling in Bach, there will also be mention of Herreweghe.
Herreweghe seems on an unannounced and covert route to record all of Bach’s choral works (which is better than starting with great fanfare and then being yanked by your record label as happened to Ton Koopman / Erato – now fortunately continued and finished on Challenge Classics – and John Elliot Gardiner / Archiv – now re-released and finished on his own label, Soli Deo Gloria) and his St. John Passion is no less a success than any of the others. As with the St. Matthew Passion, Herreweghe has recorded the St. John Passion twice. The 2002 recording is not only his second version, but also Bach’s – the 1725, instead of the 1724 version is recorded here. The differences may be substantial in detail, but are not extensive… except where the massive opening chorus is replaced with a more humble version in the second version. I miss the full forces in that (and the) moment, but sooner marvel at all else than lament. The performance, on a technical level alone, belies the many stupid things that continue to be said about Original Performance Practice (pace Pinchas Zukerman – although one can admire that at least he has a point of view and vigorously defends it, rather than pussyfooting around like so many others, afraid to ever dare offend) and it aims straight for the heart. There is inspired singing (with countertenor Andreas Scholl capable of making you forget the contraltos you might be used to in arias like “Es ist vollbracht” – and Mark Padmore no less effective than, say, Peter Schreier), playing, and conducting on everyone’s part. It has been long since I listened to this, and I never got to compare it side-by-side. A friend, even more Bach-obsessed than I am (incidentally he is a Logician and Philosopher of Science, an occupation that demands Bach as its principle composer), had me listen to both of the latest Herreweghe Passions when they came out, and that was enough to leave an indelible impression on me. Anything I have heard since from Herreweghe in Bach has borne that out.
Still, he is not the only game in town. I mentioned Karl Richter – and there are two ways to enjoy his Johannes Passion. His later recordings of the Bach works are largely out of print on CD – but some of them have just been issued on DVD by Unitel in collaboration with Deutsche Grammophon. They include the big three choral works (St. Matthew Passion, Mass in B-minor, St. John Passion), the Brandenburg Concertos, and a “Legacy of Karl Richter” disc. I have devoured them, but can’t deny having been slightly disappointed with the St. Mathew Passion and the Mass in B-minor in this set. Although the tempos are roughly the same and the singers excellent, there is something lacking here that is present on the earlier recording(s). Especially the 1958 Matthäus Passion is much more gripping and exciting than the (fourth) 1970’s attempt.
But the “Legacy” disc, elsewhere dismissed as a hagiography (what did the reviewer expect – a critical retrospective on Richter’s difficult character?), is very moving and insightful (and yes: uncritical), and his St. John Passion with Peter Schreier (Evangelist – strangely earnest, strangely believable), Siegmund Nimsgern (Peter and Pilate), Ernst Schramm (Jesus), and Helen Donath is gripping. The Münch’ner Bach-Chor is the real marvel, though, and not the least because of this DVD, my estimation of the St. John Passion vis-à-vis the St. Matthew Passion has risen immensely. Richter’s first recording of the St. John has been given a budget-CD re-release by DG (currently on sale at www.ArkivMusic.com) and is, in its more sumptuous, slightly romantic (but never dripping over overwrought!) way something to behold. His soloists in Ernst Haefliger (Evangelist), Hermann Prey (Jesus), Evelyn Lear et al. need not hide from any other cast. Whichever your choice may be (perhaps you heard the Passion last Sunday at the National Cathedral – reviewed for the Washington Post by Joe Banno, who can say more in 240 words than I with 2000), whatever your creed or state of (dis-)belief: Bach should be as much a part of Easter and Pesach as the fuzziest bunny, or the most colorful egg, or the crunchiest matzah, or the fluffiest tsoureki.







