Nordic piano music played by Nanna Hansen

Grieg: Lyric Pieces (selections); Sibelius: Piano pieces (selections); Nielsen: Humoresque-Bagatelles, Five Piano Pieces
Nanna Hansen, piano
EMI Classics CDC 74 9033 2 | Stereo DDD

Has this CD been reissued at all? Probably not. What a shame then. This is a very attractive program played with great warmth and charm by a pianist that had an all too brief recording career for EMI's Scandinavian branch. Early digital recordings tended to sound too bright, but the engineering on this disc has none of that. Very warm digital sound.

I couldn't find much on Nanna Hansen online. She seems to be a professor of piano at some university in Europe, but this information came from a link that, oddly enough, turned out to be a porn site. No kidding--try typing "Nanna Hansen" into Google and click on the first link. She also was awarded a scholarship from the Leonie Sonning Institute and went on to study with Monique Haas. Why she didn't become better known is hard to say when listening to this recital. She has a soft, supple touch and great legato when needed. Her runs sound lovely; very pearly toned.

Her recording of a handful of Grieg's Lyric Pieces is simply lovely. One of the best I have ever heard and it makes a wonderful companion to Gilels' and Gieseking's more complete traversals. Tempi are slower than either pianist's. Not a bad thing--this is music that is meant to be savored and enjoyed. No need to rush here.

Sibelius' piano music isn't often heard and with good cause. It simply isn't very good. Compared to Grieg's or Nielsen's works for the instrument, Sibelius' sound curiously amateurish and lacking a distinctive voice. Even compared to the salon music of the time it sounds inferior. Fortunately, Ms. Hansen only plays seven of these pieces. They're all very short and, save for the closing Arabesque, all forgettable.

Unidiomatic is the complaint you usually hear against Carl Nielsen's piano music. True, Nielsen was a brass player and violinist whose piano technique was modest at best. He approached the piano with a degree of freedom unfettered by what was considered "pianistic" and wrote some very original and powerful works for the instrument. What we have here, however, are some delightful chips from the master's work bench. Nielsen's Humoresque-Bagatelles were premiered by the composer and were written as pieces for young pianists to play. Don't let this fool you--no dry pedantry here. These works are a delight for the ear. They're also teeming with Nielsen's personality and some like Jumping Jack look forward to the world of the Sinfonia semplice. The third piece, a gently beguiling waltz (A Little Slow Waltz), is a gem that ought to make for a splendid encore for pianists on the hunt for novel repertoire. The spirit of Grieg hovers over the recital closer, the Five Piano Pieces. J.P.E. Hartmann, Gade, and Svendsen also rub shoulders here--this is a more conservative work than the Humoresque-Bagatelles but no less enjoyable. A sly wink and raising of the eybrows can be heard in the Humoreske and Arabeske, pointing the way to the more familar Nielsen we know. The haunting and evocative Mignon is followed by the gruff high spirits of the Elves' Dance, a troll-like piece that was later used again by the composer in his incidental music for the play Sir Olaf, He Rides.

Admirers of Scandinavian music and late romantic piano should look no further. Nanna Hansen was a formidable pianist with a sense of poetry that is a rare find these days. Our loss that she has been forgotten. If I ever see another Hansen disc, you can bet I'll snap it up in a heartbeat.

Mussorgsky and Shostakovich: Songs and Dances of Death, etc.

Mussorgsky: Songs and Dances of Death, The Nursery, and other selected songs

Sergei Leiferkus, baritone/Sergei Skigin, piano
Conifer Classics 75605 51229 2 | Stereo DDD

Mussorgsky: Prelude to Khovanschina (orch. Rimsky-Korsakoff), *Songs and Dances of Death (orch. Shostakovich); Shostakovich: Symphony No.15
*Sergei Aleksashkin, bass-baritone; Chicago Symphony Orchestra/Sir Georg Solti
Decca 289 458 919-2 | Stereo DDD

Mussorgsky: Songs and Dances of Death (orch. Shostakovich), and *other selected songs; Rimsky-Korsakoff, Tchaikovsky: selected arias and *songs
Galina Vishnevskaya; London Philharmonic Orchestra/Mstislav Rostropovich; *Mstislav Rostropovich, piano
EMI Great Recordings of the Century 5 62654 2 | Stereo ADD

It can be argued that even more than love--whether carnal or spiritual--death has been the number one source of inspiration for many of the works of the great composers. Happily, much of the music it has inspired is far from dour. However grim and dark it gets, it often is thrilling and, in the greatest works, can even impart in the listener a glimpse of understanding of the greater meaning of life. Just think of Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony, Beethoven’s late quartets, Schumann’s spectral late works, Mahler’s symphonies, Saint-Saens Danse macabre, the phantasmagorical Symphonie Fantastique of Berlioz, just to name a handful of the great death haunted works in the musical literature. In the hands of some composers, death is portrayed with all the glitz and glamour of a Hollywood blockbuster; a spellbinding performance of a death scene for an appreciative audience. Others view death in very idealized terms. A final release and that sort of thing. Of the many composers that have dealt with this morbid subject, only a very few have dealt with it in an honest, matter-of-fact way. Death as neither cruel nor blissful. To us it is strange and terrible, but it is not any of those things in itself. It simply is. Mussorgsky, in his quest to bring realism to music, took such a look at death. Eerie and seductive; violent and horrifying. But however it comes, it simply comes, whether we want to or not.

The lyrics by Mussorgsky’s friend and one-time roommate, Arseni Golenishchev-Kutuzov inspired what may very well be Mussorgsky’s masterpiece in the genre of the song cycle, the Songs and Dances of Death. Here death comes to a sickly infant, a suicidal young girl, a drunk on his way home from carousing, and soldiers on the battlefield. The four songs make a perfect cycle, though Mussorgsky had wanted to add a few more songs to the set. He had also wanted to orchestrate the cycle, but never got around to it. Soon after Mussorgsky’s death, Rimsky-Korsakoff and Glazunov orchestrated the cycle, but also ironed out what they considered rough hewn imperfections in their colleague’s work. If recordings are any judge, it would seem that this orchestration never quite caught on as much as the piano original. It wasn’t until Shostakovich’s 1962 orchestration for Galina Vishnevskaya that a an orchestral realization of this work won wide favor. Shostakovich's orchestration of Mussorgsky's work served to inspire him to write his Fourteenth Symphony a few years later. There has also been a recent orchestration by Kalevi Aho, but I have yet to hear that.

The music on the three discs being offered share in common, aside from an affinity for death, the inclusion of Mussorgsky’s song cycle. Sergei Leiferkus’ disc, his first volume in a four disc set of Mussorgsky’s songs, is a splendid album. His Songs and Dances of Death is sung superbly. His smooth baritone captures the mood of each song. His death as seducer in the Serenade is particularly good. In the rest of the recital, I sometimes wish for just a little more grit. His interpretation of the He-Goat, for example, is a bit flat and misses the pointed humor of this song. Darling Savishna is also much too smooth. This is, after all, the desperate plea from the town idiot. But it really is hard to resist Leiferkus’ smooth as silk voice. Semyon Skigin’s accompaniment is excellent and fits Leiferkus snugly.

Next is a Decca album where Mussorgsky is paired with Shostakovich. This album is death haunted not only by the shared mood and inspiration of the music on it, but also by the fact that the conductor of this recording, Sir Georg Solti, would die himself soon after this concert was taped. This was his last Chicago concert. I remember tuning into what was then KKGO back when I was a kid to hear this concert on a Chicago Symphony broadcast. It was a fine concert and I was very happy to see it released on CD two years later. Sergei Aleksashkin’s voice is more stentorian than Leiferkus. Not a bad thing at all, especially in The Field Marshal, where death’s roll call marches on with grim power. Solti’s recording of Shostakovich’s Fifteenth Symphony is one of the best. The CSO play mightily here as is expected. This is a lean, no-nonsense affair. You won’t find the depth and spirituality of Sanderling or the manic energy of Jarvi, to name but two other great conductors of this symphony. But this is a very fine recording of this very creepy work. Perhaps Shostakovich’s darkest, even more so than the Fourteenth Symphony.

Finally we have a recording with the woman who inspired Shostakovich’s orchestration of Mussorgsky’s song cycle, Galina Vishnevskaya. This is a good recording, but it really does capture the great Russian diva just a little bit past her prime. There is a hootiness and scratchiness in her top notes at times and some wild vibrato. Nonetheless she sings with great conviction and fervor. No wonder they called her the “female Chaliapin”. The disc is rounded out with her interpretations of various songs and arias by Rimsky-Korsakoff and Tchaikovsky. She sounds in better form there. Rostropovich and his London Philharmonic play wonderfully, though I wish they weren’t so reticent. This music needs an extra passion and vigor that eludes the gentlemanly LPO. Rostropovich also does an outstanding turn as his wife’s piano accompanist. Surprised? Aside from being the last century’s greatest cellist, he also was a formidable pianist. In fact, he had originally wanted to pursue that vocation, but he ended going the way of the cello. How lucky we are that he did.

There you have it then. Death haunted works in deathless recordings. Enjoy.

(You can find the texts and transliterations for Mussorgsky's song cycle here.)

Beecham conducts romantic overtures (RPO)

Beecham conducts Overtures
Berlioz: Le Corsaire; Mendelssohn: Midsummer Night's Dream, The Fair Melusina; Rossini: La gazza ladra, La scala di seta, Semiramide; Suppe: Poet and Peasant; *Wagner: Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra/Sir Thomas Beecham
EMI Classics 7 63407 2 | Stereo, *Mono ADD

Here is another CD that for some reason or other EMI has failed to reissue. The Rossini overtures appeared in the early 2000's on a short lived fundraiser CD for UNESCO where it was paired with recordings by Sargent and Serafin. The Wagner was reissued on BBC Classics some years back. But the remainder rests comfortably in the EMI vaults gathering dust.

If you love Beecham's way with music and haven't heard this yet, you must hear this CD. If you're unfamiliar with Beecham's art, this and my earlier post of his "Lollipops" make for a great introduction to the man and his work. For me, this disc is worth hearing just for the pert, beautiful winds in Mendelssohn's The Fair Melusina alone. The lovely opening is as magical and lyrical as one could ever hope to hear. The gentle breeze of a clear spring day.

The sound is good and airy early stereo, except for the Wagner which was recorded for a BBC broadcast from Maida Vale. That work is recorded in mono.

This is one of the discs I reach for to listen when my life is feeling out of sorts.

Itzhak Perlman plays and conducts Mozart

Itzhak Perlman! Where have you been all my life?! Seriously though, Perlman is a violinist whose work I've largely avoided. I have his Tchaikovsky concerto with Ormandy (very good) and his recording of the Korngold with Previn (shot down by muddy sonics). That's it. I just couldn't trust Perlman. All that treacly, crossover garbage he's recorded a la Yo-Yo Ma, James Galway, and the Three Tenors made me very suspicious. This can't be a serious musician, I thought. Merely a triumph of good marketing. How wrong I was.

I found this CD for cheap at Amoeba for about $3 some months ago. No need to keep that money burning in my pocket. I took a chance and decided to give this CD a good home. I'm glad I did.

Perlman, as expected, is marvelous in the Violin Concerto No.3 that opens up this album. His rich, buttery tone glazes this music with all the warmth and flavor it needs. Where a lot of contemporary violinists play this music as if they're ashamed that their instrument can produce beautifully modulated tones, Perlman just revels in it. Honestly, has any violinist played this work as luciously, as lovingly in the past 30 years? What a relief from all the squawking and scraping one has to suffer today in the name of "authenticity"! This may not be authentic Mozart, but it sure is authentic Mozart.

As good as the Violin Concerto is, the rest of the album is even better. Perlman lets the strings of the Berlin Philharmonic sing their hearts out in the Adagio and Fugue in C minor. From the moment you hear the throb of the basses at the start, Perlman and his Berliners grab you by the throat and seize you by the throat, gripping you all the way until the fugue wends its way to its severe closing cadence.

Finally we have a glowing rendition of the "Jupiter" Symphony to end the program. This has to be one of the finest recordings I've heard of this miraculous work in a long time. Has EMI pulled the ol' switch-a-roo on your's truly? Can this really be the same orchestra in all those anaemic Rattle recordings? Whether it's by virtue of Perlman's podium presence, a superior miking job by EMI, or just sheer good fortune, this recording has to be one of the greatest that the Berlin Philharmonic have made in at least the past decade. The Berliners launch into the work with uncharacterisically lusty and brawny vigor and infuse the work with plenty of blood. Perlman picks just the right tempi for the first movement and it swings along merrily. The second movement is just as lovingly shaped as you could ever hope for. The Menuetto is a just a smidge too fast for my tastes, but still very good. The finale is played with great bravado and ends with a very unauthentic rallentado worthy of Beecham--a great shout for joy. This is a Jupiter that would have made "Uncle" Bruno Walter proud.

I only wish that Perlman weren't so repeat happy. He sounds like he's never come across a repeat he didn't like. Some of them, like the first movement's exposition repeat are welcome. But I wish he had omitted the repeats in the finale. Impeding the flow of the music right when the music seems to say "let's get on with it!" But I have to admit that, while I usually don't care for the repeats, I certainly didn't mind them much while listening.

If Perlman and the Berliners ever record a set of the late Mozart symphonies--or any more Mozart or Haydn--I would snap it up in an instant. This album really changed the way I think about Perlman. If Rattle isn't jealous, he should be.

Beecham's Lollipops

In an era where great conductors strode about the concert platforms of the world like colossi, Beecham stood out. To be sure he was, along with Leopold Stokowski and Willem Mengelberg, one of the most consistently phonogenic of conductors. Furtwangler, Klemperer, Walter, and others were certainly great, but often were not able to capture in the studio the fire they could summon in concert before an audience. But Beecham seemed to come to life the moment the microphones went on. Beecham, like Stokowski and Karajan, recognized the importance of recordings and understood that if he wished to communicate to the widest audience possible it would be through records. Nearly 50 years have passed since Sir Thomas' death and his recordings are still competitive today. Some, like his recordings of Bizet's music for L'Arlesienne or Sibelius' Pelleas and Melisande, arguably remain unsurpassed.

This CD, compiled from 2 posthumous LP's, is a treasure. He was outstanding in Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, and the like--his recording of the Eroica is one of the very great ones--but if you want to hear what made the man so loved, you must listen to this CD. Many great conductors can breathe fire and life into a Beethoven symphony; it takes a very special musician to lavish the same amount of love and care on music that requires subtlety and a light touch as opposed to the grand gesture (though some of the music here, like Berlioz's march from Les Troyans roars out with great aplomb). Chabrier's March Joyeux trots by at a raucous, suspender flashing clip that is tres joyeux indeed. The flute solo in the Valse Triste has never sounded more dapper and wistful and the string tremolo coda is perfect. Just the right shading; not too dark or heavy. This is a waltz with death, yes, but that doesn't mean that death can't cut an elegant trail on the dance floor. And speaking of waltzes, his infectiously toe tapping take on the waltz from Eugene Onegin will have even the most crusty old frump twirling away in 3/4 time. I could spend days going on about this beautiful playing on this album. The silken strings, the characterful winds, and noble brass--what an orchestra the old RPO was! A half century has intervened since these recordings were made, but that sly Beecham charm still sounds verdant and fresh.

For whatever reason, EMI has kept this album out-of-print, though some of this material has reappeared on a pair of Great Recordings of the Century CD's. Well, it's here now so you know what to do. ;)

Petrushka's Ghost Thumbs His Nose: Otto Klemperer's Dark Interpretation of Stravinsky's Ballet

When you think of Stravinsky's Petrushka what comes to your mind? For most of the listening audience, an aural image of a glittering orchestral showpiece is sure to come into focus. Charming folk melodies and music-hall themes, dazzling orchestral solos, and its stretches of mordant bitonality have long won the score a much deserved respect and enjoyment among concert audiences. So effective has this score been as a concert work that it is easy to forget that it began its life as a ballet.

A world that seems to be reflected from a corridor of cracked fun house mirrors, the work's libretto conjures up a world disturbing and disorienting. Life as puppet show; mechanized and soulless. At the center you have Petrushka, a brilliant and sensitive outcast. Alternately provoking his envy and affection are the Moor--your archetypal boorish, stupid, yet somehow successful "alpha male"--and the ditzy Ballerina with her bad taste in men. Most interpretations of this work gloss over its expressionism, ultimately reflected in the treatment of this work's coda. Nearly every conductor plays this as a charming non sequitur and not as the chilling question mark it ought to be. Nearly every one except for Otto Klemperer.

At first glance, the idea of Klemperer conducting Stravinsky might seem odd. Best remembered for his monumental readings of the Austro-German classics, Klemperer in the 1920's was an ardent advocate of modern music. One of the highlights of his tenure as director of Berlin's Kroll Opera was his Stravinsky triple bill evening consisiting of Mavra, Oedipus Rex, and Petrushka. Stravinsky, who attended the performance, was deeply impressed. Petrushka remained a favorite in Klemperer's repertoire long after he fled Germany. He would perform the work often taking it along with him to, among other places, Los Angeles, New York, Rio de Janeiro, Budapest, and Sydney. By the 1950's, however, his enthusiasm for performing 20th century music cooled, telling a reporter in Amsterdam his season as a partisan for the avant garde had passed. He did remain a very enthusiastic listener of the moderns well into his late years, praising Stravinsky's Requiem Canticles and attending a rehearsal for Stockhausen's Gruppen, not to mention being an admirer of Pierre Boulez's work as both composer and conductor.

The circustances for the recording at hand are interesting and happened purely by chance. EMI had long been wanting to record a stereo Petrushka but was foiled again and again. The project was suggested to Beecham, Karajan, Giulini, and Markevitch, but was either rejected by those conductors or circumstances prevented them from recording it. In 1967, Paul Kletzki was to conduct a Philharmonia program that consisted of selections from Mahler's Des Knaben Wunderhorn and Brahms' First Symphony, among other solidly Austro-German works. Kletzki became ill shortly before the concert and Klemperer filled in for him. Unusually, he replaced the Brahms work with Stravinsky's Petrushka. Getting the hint, EMI quickly mobilized their team and initiated recording sessions. The results, according to EMI, did not find Klemperer in top form, plagued by a tired sounding orchestra and many instrumental gaffes. The master tape was withheld and remained in the EMI vaults.

Not until the mid 2000's were these tapes given another listen. The remastering engineers at Testament were surprised with the results. While the original master tape was a dull sounding recording, that was because the bulk of it was made on the third day of the scheduled sessions. They found that the tapes from the first day's session were far more impressive and have made a new master tape from those sessions. That is what you will find on this disc.

It may take a moment for the ear to adjust as this is a rather slower, more blunt Petrushka than one is normally used to hearing. But once you adjust, it overwhelms you with its sheer force. No sparkling orchestral finesse here. The New Philharmonia does suffer a few minor lapses here and there, but Klemperer's conception is so persuasive that you forget these mistakes quickly. The flute solo in the Charlatan's booth (played by Gareth Morris) is not the usual Disney-esque magic, but rather something more sinister and insinuating. The bitonal fanfares in Petrushka's cell are very heavy, almost Mahlerian. Indeed Klemperer's Petrushka seems to be one refracted through the prism of Berg's Wozzeck and Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire. It's worth it just to hear his handling of the coda. Just utter darkness. If there is one flaw here, it's that Klemperer makes a brief cut towards the end of the Dance of the Coachmen section, omitting one of the repitions of the theme.

The Pulcinella Suite included in this album is very fine too. Full blooded and muscular. But it's the Petrushka that is the star of the show here.

While I still love the recordings of Petrushka conducted by Monteux, Boulez, Ozawa, and Muti, Klemperer's is a very special reading that merits being heard. A very dark take on a beloved favorite then. It may alter profoundly how you hear this music.