|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Classical Capsules |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| For all: Robert Hurwitz, executive producer; Leslie Ann Jones, engineer. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Here are three “CD
singles” (one-work recordings, each about half an hour
long, that sell for $11 apiece) of vastly different kinds of
music released to celebrate the Kronos String Quartet’s
30th anniversary. These guys have issued so many records and
been together so long—the cellist was replaced a few years
ago but the other three are founding  members—that
they probably should call themselves The Kronies. At any rate
they still play with lots of spit and vinegar, as well as an
unquenched appetite for “new music.” This involves
them, no doubt necessarily, in some ventures of questionable
taste, of which the infamous thwomping out of an egregious arrangement
of Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze” was surely
the nadir.Well, maybe not. Harry Partch’s 1943 U.S. Highball: A Musical Account of Slim’s Transcontinental Hobo Trip may give their debased Hendrix a run for the money. The subject of this proletarian odyssey is plainly put forth in its title—though the adjective “musical” is a stretch. Partch’s long, breezy-lugubrious, pseudo-folksy, argot-littered text imitates Carl Sandburg imitating Gertrude Stein. Badly. The it-never-stops vocal part (sung, spoken, yodeled, whatever) is drawled out by David Barron who sounds for all the world like Steve Martin’s Cowboy Gil in Parenthood except Barron isn’t funny, especially when he’s trying to be. The music is mostly bumpy pizzicatos, slithering glissandos, and train-whistle clusters. U.S. Highball is the sort of pretentious twaddle that too often results when artistic types try aping folk narratives, and it’s just made worse by Partch’s homegrown-crank avant-gardism. Latvian composer Peteris Vasks wrote his brand-new Fourth String Quartet as one of the hundreds of works commissioned by Kronos over the past three decades. Vasks often mixes hypnotic New Agey minimalism with contemporary effects in his music, but his heart is clearly that of a romantic. The models here are (first and primarily) Shostakovich, and to a lesser extent Gorecki and Pärt, though the layout—three slow movements sandwiching two fast toccatas—is derived from Bartók’s “arch” forms. This is a fiercely passionate work, biting and bitter in the toccatas, tormented and yearning in the adagios. Indeed, the central “Chorale” approaches the exalted fervor of Barber’s great Adagio, though the final “Meditation” is anticlimactic and over-extended. Worse, Vasks misguidedly slathers some drawn-out and bizarrely distracting glissandos over his unoffending tonal harmonic progressions. Why he would do this I can only guess, but what it comes down to is that there’s just no substitute for good taste. That said, this quartet is easily worth your time if only for that achingly beautiful 7-minute “Chorale.” I’ll return to it often, and with gratitude. With Berg’s chamber music masterpiece, his 1926 Lyric Suite, Kronos enters much-traveled territory, and I quickly got out some rival performances for comparison. Somewhat to my surprise, however, the group holds its own with the best (Arditti, Juilliard) in both technique and musicality. And this archetypal expressionist work requires both to the nth degree, charting as it does the composer’s perfervid oscillations between ecstasy and despair—a “searing psychodrama,” as the annotations put it—that mirror his hopeless love for, and final renunciation of, an unattainable married woman. Berg could never openly acknowledge the personal drama behind his music, but he sent a copy of the score, discovered only in the 1970s, to his beloved, in which he set an anguished Baudelaire poem to the Suite’s final “Largo Desolato.” This new Kronos recording is the first to incorporate Baudelaire’s lyrics. The result—which doesn’t at all violate the spirit or architecture of the music, especially since much of the vocal line simply doubles the strings—is to make this already deeply affecting composition an even more intimate and direct utterance. Dawn Upshaw’s singing is perfection itself, suitably more impassioned than usual for this often rather “cool” soprano. Anyone who cares about this music will have to hear this stunning re-creation of Berg’s secret version. Nonesuch’s excellent recordings, made on the West Coast at Skywalker Sound studio, are rich but airy and a touch laid-back—more blended than up-close or ultra-detailed—as heard from a middle-of-the-hall perspective. Mark Lehman |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Mahler:
Symphony No. 6 in A minor, “Tragic.” London Symphony
Orchestra, Mariss Jansons, conductor. James Mallinson, producer;
Tony Faulkner, engineer. LSO Live LSO0038 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Mariss Jansons’
new recording of the Mahler Sixth—the latest
in the London Symphony’s LSO Live series—is exciting
to a spectacular degree. Like most recordings of this piece
in the last 30 years, Jansons’ rests in the shadow of
Bernstein’s pioneering mid-sixties performance with the
New York Philharmonic, a searing account that realizes the subtitle
to shattering effect. Like Bernstein, Jansons plays Mahler’s
energico instructions for all they’re worth,
decisively pulling ahead of his most recent (and very fine)
rivals, Michael Tilson Thomas and Benjamin Zander, in the difficult
last movement. Where Tilson Thomas lets his grip on the gathering
intensity slacken and Zander simply fails to overwhelm, Jansons
moves this massive juggernaut inexorably forward, generating
almost unbearable tension, the impact of each climax more devastating
than the last. This despite his decision not to play the third
hammer blow, which the superstitious Mahler omitted for reasons
that, while understandable, are hardly valid. More controversial is Jansons’ judgment to heed Mahler’s final thoughts regarding the order of the middle movements, placing the Andante moderato second and the Scherzo third. This is one of those instances where a great composer subsequently retreated from his darkest vision. When the Alma theme bursts forth in all its A major splendor at the end of the first movement, surely the effect, if not the meaning, of the music is vitiated if the bucolic yearning of the Andante follows immediately instead of the continued, relentlessly cruel pounding of the Scherzo. Fortunately the disc’s layout allows you to program them the latter way. No matter—this remains an immense accomplishment, which Tony Faulkner captures in clean, transparent sonics, with powerful bass and plenty of dynamic impact. The LSO plays like demons. In EMI’s new pairing of the A minor twins by Grieg and Schumann, with the young Norwegian piano virtuoso Leif Ove Andsnes, Jansons assumes the role of accompanist, leading the Berlin Philharmonic. The performances are impressive if not entirely satisfactory. I’ve not heard Andsnes’ 1990 recording of the Grieg, but his new one foregoes the last degree of virtuosity for its own sake in favor of a more poetic lyricism. The first two movements respond best to this approach, though the last doesn’t seem to hold together quite as effectively. The Schumann is also beautifully played, again emphasizing the music’s lyricism. But for all the voltage of the performers, the first movement never quite catches fire with that special manic brand of this composer’s energy, and elsewhere I found myself wanting a keener sense of involvement. Jansons whips up a considerable storm with the Berlin Philharmonic, which plays magnificently, but he remains a considerate partner, never wanting to upstage his restrained, elegant star. This program is frustrating mostly because the sum of its superb parts never quite makes for the synergy of really special performances. The sound is wide in range but not notably transparent, the piano too big and close-up, its tonal balance canted toward the treble. Does Andsnes’ instrument actually sound like this? Paul Seydor |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Beethoven:
Fidelio. Angela Denoke (Leonore); Jon Villars (Florestan);
Arnold Schoenberg Chorus; Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, Simon
Rattle, conductor. Stephen Johns, producer; Mike Clements, balance
engineer. EMI 57555 (2 CDs) |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Simon Rattle’s
recent set of the complete Beethoven symphonies for EMI, live
performances with the Vienna Philharmonic, was a decidedly uneven
traversal and ultimately not recommendable. So it’s a
pleasure to report that this new Fidelio is a real
winner. The recording was assembled from concerts in April 2003
that occurred shortly after staged performances at the Salzburg
Easter Festival and it crackles with the kind of energy one
associates with a successful theatrical production. Rattle presents
the work—Beethoven’s favorite and the one that gave
him the most difficulty—on a thoroughly human scale that
allows Fidelio to rise above any limitations of operatic
convention (e.g., a woman disguised as a man, unrecognized by
her husband) to celebrate a triumph of the individual spirit.
This rendition, as with other venerable accounts, seems less
about a specific “rescue” than about the nature
of evil, honor, heroism, and marital loyalty. Angela Denoke, as Leonore, offers just the right blend of nobility and womanly compassion; Jon Villars’ Florestan has a Heldentenor’s heft. László Polgár, as Rocco, is completely sympathetic—never a buffoon, even when he’s regaling Leonore on the importance of financial security. The cast is uniformly strong down through the smaller roles: Juliane Banse (Marzelline) and Thomas Quasthoff (Don Fernando) are an embarrassment of riches as supporting players. The chorus is excellent and, needless to say, the BPO isn’t your average pit band. Sonics are less than state-of-the-art, even for CD, but far from objectionable. The sound is a bit closed-in—near miking may have been necessary in the concert setting—and there’s not much feel for the venue, Berlin’s Philharmonie. If one sets the playback level for full orchestral impact, the voices can be overpowering. But those voices are nicely characterized and there’s loads of detail: You’ll marvel at the miraculous intertwining of the vocal and instrumental lines in the Act I quartet “Mir ist so wunderbar,” for instance. For a first Fidelio, Klemperer’s classic 1962 version (also EMI) with Christa Ludwig and John Vickers—more monumental, angular, imposing—is probably still the way to go. Sir Simon’s is nicely complementary, when it’s time for another. Andrew Quint |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Ravel:
Boléro. Pavane pour une Infante défunte.
Rapsodie espagnole. Daphnis et Chloé (Suite No. 2). Minnesota
Orchestra, Stanislaw Skrowaczewski, conductor. Marc J. Aubort
and Joanna Nickrenz, original producers. Hybrid multichannel.
Mobile Fidelity UDSACD 4002 (Sonic rating: 9) |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| For its first hybrid
multichannel SACD, Mobile Fidelity (MFSL) has chosen performances
from an audiophile classic—Skrowaczewski’s four-LP
survey of Ravel’s orchestral music, originally released
by Vox in the mid-1970s. This material has been previously addressed
by Classic Records (a double DAD set) and Analogue Productions
(a single CD and LP of selections) but as the sessions were
recorded quadraphonically, this latest reincarnation is most
welcome. A good multichannel symphonic recording gives you three
things: a dimensional portrayal of the musicians on stage, a
feel for the venue (size, shape, materials of construction),
and a sense of the music in the air between the players and
the listening position. It’s the last characteristic that’s
the most difficult to achieve, and this recording has it in
spades. Producers Mark J. Aubort and the late Joanna Nickrenz
placed cardioid microphones facing away from the stage at the
back of Orchestra Hall in Minneapolis. For Daphnis and Chloé,
the chorus was situated at the rear of the auditorium and the
perception of the singers energizing the space of the room from
the opposite direction of the instrumentalists is musically
effective, and not the least bit artificial or distracting.
MFSL also gives us a 5.0 version of the final four-and-a-half
minutes of D & C, the center channel derived from
“Ambisonic algorithms.” It does provide a more continuous,
seamless front soundstage, though it doesn’t change the
fundamental character of the recording. Otherwise, the sound
is exceptionally warm, smooth, and detailed in both the stereo
and surround SACD programs. Skrowaczewski’s Ravel is quite idiomatic, even if the performances are not in the same league as those from various Frenchman—Munch, Dutoit, Boulez, Tortelier. Boléro is more than two minutes longer than any other version on hand. At times, it’s beyond the point of a “slow burn,” though one can certainly appreciate well the passing parade of shifting orchestral color. The Pavane is a bit matter-of-fact and La Valse is missing the very last degree of giddy sweep. But Rapsodie espagnole is atmospherically languorous and the Daphnis Suite is very successful, with sensual orchestral sonorities, building up a real head of steam for the exciting conclusion. If you’re doing multichannel, you’ve got to have this one. AQ |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Prokofiev:
Romeo and Juliet. (Complete Suites.) Cincinnati Symphony
Orchestra, Paavo Järvi, conductor. Robert Woods, producer;
Michael Bishop, engineer. Hybrid Multichannel. Telarc 60597
(Sonic rating: 7) |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Prokofiev’s Romeo
and Juliet has been recorded in many versions, ranging
from the complete ballet to variably successful collections
of excerpts. Paavo Järvi has chosen Prokofiev’s three
Suites that make up about half of the score. On the surface
this makes sense, but the composer’s Suites are essentially
an arbitrary collection of dances that don’t follow the
plot. The “Balcony Scene,” “Death of Tybalt,”
and “Romeo and Juliet before Parting” remain intact,
but the climactic Epilogue is split into two sections concluding
the second and third Suites. This makes no dramatic sense, and
effectively eliminates the complete musical development of the
final scene. However, Järvi conducts the music very well.
He may not match the perfectly balanced combination of lyricism
and dynamism that Lorin Maazel achieves in his unforgettable
complete recording, but the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra makes
lovely sounds, and there is no lack of power in the big moments.
This SACD climaxes with the “Death of Tybalt” that
ends the first Suite. Here, Järvi approximates the white
heat generated by Muti and the Philadelphia Orchestra. The sound is excellent. Its principal strength is the striking reproduction of ambient hall information, even in stereo. Bass is tight and has ample impact without overpowering the rest of the orchestra. The only thing that keeps this out of the top sonic echelon is a slightly dry and dull high end. We’re not quite talking Living Presence here. Multichannel unobtrusively expands the well-defined soundfield without calling attention to itself or compromising inner detail. If you don’t require the complete ballet, this excellent version moves to near the top of the list of Romeo and Juliet Suites. The folks at Telarc must believe they have a winning formula because they keep releasing Erich Kunzel film-score compilations. You could argue that collections work against the composer’s intentions because they remove the music from its proper context where it’s possible to develop themes more fully instead of going from one unrelated climax to another. However, Charles Gerhardt proves that it can be done in RCA’s Classic Film Score Series. In the present case, Kunzel manages to make everything sound the same. This is not easy when you consider the wide disparity in styles of composers such as Miklós Rózsa, Alex North, John Williams, and Maurice Jarre. Comparing Kunzel’s Gladiator Suite to the electrifying original soundtrack is a cruel joke. These arrangements are ponderous, bloated, monotonously slow, and suck the life out of the scores. The dense, bass-heavy sound is more a reflection of Kunzel’s interpretations than an indictment of the engineer. Multichannel enhances directionality and gives a feeling of greater spaciousness, but it does nothing to ameliorate the deadly dull effect of music that should be exciting. This SACD may appeal to some on a purely brain-stem level because most of the selections are instantly recognizable, but it offers nothing to the serious film-music collector. Arthur B. Lintgen |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Vivaldi:
The Four Seasons. Tartini: Sonata in G minor, “Devil’s
Trill.” Anne-Sophie Mutter, violin and conductor;
Trondheim Soloists. Ulrich Vette, producer and balance engineer;
Wolf-Dieter Karwatky, Mark Buecker, and Reinhild Schmidt, engineers.
Deutsche Grammophon B0001291-19 (Sonic rating: 5) |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
With this release, Universal
Classics now officially goes both ways, offering SACDs and
DVD-As. These performances were noted favorably back in Issue
128 and my high opinion hasn’t changed. The Four Seasons—Mutter’s
second version; she recorded the work with Herbert von Karajan
as a teenager—is an exceptionally colorful reading, evocative
of nature and, while certainly not lacking in technical brilliance,
intimately communicative. Mutter is supported admirably by the
Trondheim Soloists, a small modern-instrument group that’s
 with
her, interpretively, every step of the way. The program concludes
with Giuseppe Tartini’s “Devil’s Trill”
Sonata, arranged with orchestral accompaniment by Riccardo Zandonai—an
astounding and profound musical display of virtuosity.The disc plays three ways: in 48 kHz/24-bit MLP (“advanced resolution”) stereo or 5.1 surround and, on any DVD player, as Dolby Digital surround. The stereo version sounds minimally richer, fuller, more refined than the original CD, though still clearly identifiable as a digital recording—a very good digital recording, but a digital recording nonetheless. The multichannel is conservatively executed; it brings the players out in front of the plane of the speakers, but there’s not a tremendous amount of depth to the soundfield or much of a sense of the Copenhagen concert hall. I can’t say that the DVD-A format is fully taken advantage of to give great value, in terms of additional content. There’s a silly MTV-style music video and a catalog of other Mutter recordings with sound clips. A “Photo Gallery” just reproduces the many photos that adorn the CD package. And an interview with the violinist is found only in the DVD-A’s booklet, as it is with the CD. It is wonderful to finally have an unequivocally top-echelon current classical artist represented on DVD-A, but this release may not prove as irresistible to forward-looking audiophiles as the competing technology. AQ |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| For all: J. Tamblyn Henderson, producer; Keith Johnson, engineer. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| After better than a
year of silence, Reference Recordings has returned with three
superb releases. The product hasn’t changed: J. Tamblyn
Henderson is still in charge, Keith Johnson is still engineering,
the discs are still HDCD encoded. What has changed are the company’s
warehousing, sales, and shipping operations, handled now by
On-Demand Media Services LLC, which also promotes and distributes
Dorian as well as a number of other specialist labels. Henderson
notes that this arrangement allows Reference “to eliminate
a great deal of overhead expense and increase business efficiency.”
What matters most to consumers is that Reference’s defining
goal is still intact—interesting and well-played repertoire
in superlative sonics. The Minnesota Orchestra called on John Tavener for a new work to celebrate its 100th season in 2002-2003. The music of the deeply religious Tavener (he embraced the Greek Orthodox tradition in the 1970s) will either open up a spiritual world for the listener—or try his patience. In a ten-minute interview that fills out RR-102, the composer tells us that music should be “primordial, simple, and beautiful” and that “God must be attractive.” He’s suspicious of music that “does something,” be it Beethoven or Schoenberg, and acknowledges that his own “tends to sit still.” But Ikon of Eros is anything but uneventful. Consonant but not cloying, over its one-hour length it explores a range of moods, from static contemplation to swirling ecstasy. The texts Tavener sets are often just a single word—“Éros,” Metemorphóthes,” “Allilúia”—yet intimate a world of spiritual meaning. The soloists are exceptional: baritone Tim Krol (who takes on the role of a Greek psaltist, or cantor), soprano Patricia Rozario, and especially violinist Jorja Fleezanis, who plays almost continuously, the luminous manifestation of Divine Love in Tavener’s conception. The work is well-served by the recording, captured at the Cathedral of St. Paul in Minnesota’s capital; Tavener is on record as stating that the resonant acoustic there is ideal for his music. There’s a warm expansiveness and, at the same time, great clarity. The choir is placed at a distance, behind the soloists and orchestra, as specified by the composer. Reference has given us a disc of Dominick Argento before (Valentino Dances, RR-91) and here programs three more Argento compositions from the 1970s and 80s. Casa Guida was the old stone house in Florence that Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning eloped to in the 1840s. Argento sets to music letters written by Elizabeth to her sister, glimpses into the couple’s domestic bliss. Capriccio for Clarinet and Orchestra is a concerto in all but name—the composer states that he refused to call it such out of respect for Mozart’s K.622. It’s subtitled “Rossini in Paris,” inspired by the Italian composer’s life in France following his retirement from the world of opera at the ripe old age of 38. The orchestration glitters and the clarinet’s potential for both technical brilliance and soaring lyricism is fully exploited. Burt Hara, Minnesota’s first chair player, has a fluid technique and a rich, woody tone. In Praise of Music is a virtuosic work for orchestra that “probes the inherent singling quality of instruments.” Argento employs a wide range of musical materials—an Arabian street song, Hebrew chant, Monteverdi’s Orfeo. It’s very evocative, from the brassy splendor of “Apollo” to the spare, ringing, Japan-influenced “Pan.” Prof. Johnson’s recording has a see-through quality, with superb dynamics and natural scaling of the solo instrument in the Capriccio. Felix Hell is a real phenomenon, a young man who’s been packing ‘em in at organ recitals for years, although at the time this recording was made in June of 2002, he wasn’t old enough to vote (or, from the look of the cover photo, old enough to shave). He tackles a program of difficult Romantic works that requires not just a topflight technique but mature musicality as well. Rhythmically, he’s steady as a rock, and the inner voices are remarkably clear. Most impressive are the two Liszt works. Hell makes the most of the power and color of the large Schoenstein instrument, located at First-Plymouth Congregational Church in Lincoln, Nebraska, but is also fully attuned to all the contrapuntal and architectural complexities of the pieces. The organ sound is rich and dense, maintaining its focus when loud, and the recorded perspective is ideal—close enough for detail and timbral nuance but not so close that the organ doesn’t have room to breathe. Low bass is almost scary. If you have a subwoofer in a small-to-medium-sized room, prepare to have your eardrums pressurized. Reference promises SACDs and multichannel recordings soon. In the meantime, it’s good to have RR back, and in top form. Andrew Quint |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Vienna
1908-1914. Schoenberg: Five Pieces for Orchestra.
Webern: Five Pieces for Orchestra. Berg: Three
Pieces for Orchestra. London Symphony Orchestra, Antal
Dorati, conductor. Mercury SR-90316 (LP) |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Berg:
Wozzeck and Lulu Suites. Helga Pilarczyk,
soprano, London Symphony Orchestra, Antal Dorati, conductor.
Mercury SR-90278 (LP) |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Schuller:
Seven Studies on Themes of Paul Klee. Fetler: Contrasts
for Orchestra. Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, Antal Dorati,
conductor. Mercury SR-90282 (LP) |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| For all: Wilma Cozart, producer; C. Robert Fine and Robert Eberenz, engineers. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The Mercury catalog
continues to maintain its Living Presence at the center of the
audiophile world. With the first Mercury three-channel SACDs
due for imminent release by Universal, Speakers Corner Records
has also obtained the rights to these legendary recordings,
with plans to release several of them on vinyl over the next
few years. Assuming these issues approximate the sound of the
originals, they’ll give many collectors a first chance
to hear what all the fuss is about. Speakers Corner has chosen its first releases wisely. The Berg/Schoenberg/Webern recordings rank with the elite Mercurys, and the Gunther Schuller/Paul Fetler disc has astonishing sound even by Mercury’s standards, but has received little attention in the audiophile press. Vienna 1908-1914 contains a representative program of the orchestral music of Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern. For anyone of the opinion that all atonal music sounds alike, Dorati’s dramatic and incisive performances clearly demonstrate the different styles of these three composers, from Schoenberg’s analytical clarity to Berg’s romantic serialism to Webern’s miniatures. The predominantly orchestral Wozzeck and Lulu Suites provide a unique opportunity for listeners unable to digest the complete operas to hear Berg’s thorny style in powerful performances that manage to be reasonably accessible as they emphasize the dark romantic and symphonic sides of Berg’s music. Mahler was already going in this direction in his Ninth and Tenth Symphonies, and the influence of Tristan is pervasive. The most notorious aspect of the recording was Lulu’s spine-chilling death shout, but the massive orchestral climax that follows is from a musical standpoint even more overwhelming. Schuller’s Seven Studies are more of an acquired taste, but these brief essays in exotic sonorities are fascinating in Mercury’s sensational sound. Speakers Corner has given these recordings the respect they deserve. The packaging is gorgeous: a black album titled “The Living Presence of 20th Century Music” and displaying the Mercury logo holds the three records with their original covers and liner notes. In addition, there are informative annotations on the music and Dorati, and a history of Mercury Living Presence, complete with valuable photos of the recording team. The pressings and surfaces are immaculate. They sound at least as good and in some ways better than the originals, but I can’t be sure how much of that is a function of simple wear on the old LPs, even though my copies are in excellent condition. The Mercury CDs released a few years ago were also well done; their biting clarity lends itself to Berg’s dense orchestration, emphasizing the lower registers of the orchestra (so their hot high end is not a factor). However, Speakers Corner’s pressings reveal an equal amount of fine inner detail and have far more natural instrumental texture. There are no negatives and not enough superlatives to describe these magnificent reissues. It’s rare that performance, sound, and musical value combine at this level in a recording. Arthur B. Lintgen |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Vasks:
String Quartet No. 4. Nonesuch 79695
Berg:
Lyric Suite. Dawn Upshaw, soprano. Nonesuch 79696
Partch:
U. S. Highball. David Barron, vocalist. Nonesuch
79697
Grieg:
Piano Concerto in A minor. Schumann: Piano Concerto in A minor.
Leif Ove Andsnes, piano; Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, Mariss
Jansons, conductor. John Fraser, producer; Arne Akselberg,
engineer. EMI 557562
Epics.
Rózsa: Ben Hur. Zimmer: Gladiator.
Pearl Harbor. Steiner: Gone with the Wind.
Tan Dun: Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. North: Spartacus.
Jarre: Lawrence of Arabia. Doctor Zhivago. Williams:
Star Wars, Episode 2: Attack of the Clones. Harry Potter
and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Minority Report. Bernstein:
The Magnificent Seven. Strauss: Also sprach Zarathustra
(2001: A Space Odyssey). Cincinnati Pops Orchestra, Erich
Kunzel, conductor. Robert Woods, producer; Michael Bishop,
engineer. Hybrid Multichannel. Telarc 60600 (Sonic rating:
6)
Tavener:
Ikon of Eros. Jorja Fleezanis, violin; Patricia Rozario,
soprano; Tim Krol, baritone; Minnesota Chorale; Minnesota
Orchestra, Paul Goodwin, conductor. Reference Recordings RR-102
Argento:
Casa Guidi. Capriccio for Clarinet and Orchestra.
In Praise of Music: Seven Songs for Orchestra. Burt
Hara, clarinet; Minnesota Orchestra, Eiji Oue, conductor.
Reference Recordings RR-100 
Guilmant:
Sonata No. 1. Rheinberger: Abendfriede. Vierne: Symphony
No. 1—Final. Liszt: Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H. Fantasy
and Fugue on “Ad nos, ad salutarem undam.” Felix
Hell, organ. Reference Recordings RR-101
Advertisement
In the News
Poll
Buyers Guides
- How to Buy an HDTV
- One Box Surround Sound Systems
- Buyers Guide: Sub-$1.5k surround speakers
- Integrated Amplifiers Under $1500
- VIDEO: About home theaters in a box
- 2007 TAS Editors Choice Awards
All documents notede with file size are in PDF format.
Download Acrobat Reader
