CLASSICAL Record Reviews (Nov. 1992)

BARTÓK: Concerto for Orchestra, Divertimento for String Orchestra Sir Neville Mariner, Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields Philips 432-126-2 (CD only). Erdo Groot, bal. eng.; Roger de Schot, Evert Meriting, rec. engs.; Martha de Francisco, prod. DDD. TE 62:10

BARTOK : Concerto for Orchestra; Music for Strings, Percussion at Celesta Eliahu Inbal, Orchestre de la Suisse Romande Denon 81757-9044-2 (CD only). Peter Willemot S, eng.; Peter Laenger, prod. (Concerto); Yoshiharu Kawaguchi, prod. DDD. TE 67:56

Of these two Concepto performances, Marriner's is superior to Inbal's. Sadly, that's not saying much. Both interpretations are plagued by a pervasive lack of empathy with Bartók's salty, east-European accents. The two orchestras also seem to have little affinity for the music. Marriner does achieve respite from his middle-of the-road reading by nicely revealing secondary melodic lines, especially in the second set of pair games in movement two, and also in the fourth movement. And while his finale does ring of triumph, it cannot divorce itself from the recollected hollowness of so much that precedes it.

Inbal approaches the Concerto with more grace than fire, which is putting things the wrong way around. His tempos seem extraordinarily slow until you check the timings and discover that it is actually the anemic phrasing that makes the music sound slower than it really is.

The frequent ritards at the ends of phrases are especially emasculating. And in one of the most magical of this work's many magical moments

-the transition to the parody of the Shostakovich theme in movement four--Inbal's approach is far too cautious to be convincing.

The finest performances of this work that I know of are by Reiner (RCA), Dorati (Mercury), and Dohnanyi ( London). Needless to say, neither Inbal nor Marriner presents a serious challenge.

There are also preferable performances of the accompanying works on these discs. As for the Music for Strings, Percussion and Orchestra, Dutoit's 1988 performance on London presents more verve and sinew than does Inbal's. So do Karajan and Dorati on Angel and Mercury LPs, respectively. By comparison with all of them, Inbal's reading is leaden and somewhat sloppily played as well. And although Marriner achieves a nail-biting buildup of tension in the second movement of the Divertimento, his performance overall does not match the vitality and rhythmic swagger of the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra on DG, a superb performance that is also beautifully recorded.

-Robert Hesson

BEETHOVEN: Piano Sonatas Op.10, Nos.1-3 Richard Goode, piano Elektra Nonesuch 79213-2 (CD only). Max Wilcox, eng., prod. DDD. TE 54:07

BEETHOVEN: Piano Sonatas Op.2 No.1, Op.10 No.1, Op.13, Op.31 No.2 Zoltan Kocsis, piano Philips 432 127-2 (CD only). Roger de Schot, eng.; Wilhelm Hellweg, prod. DDD. TT 74:23

BEETHOVEN: Piano Sonatas Opp.109, 111, 119 John O'Conor, piano Telarc CD-80261 (CD only). Jack Renner, James Mallinson, engs. James Mallinson, prod. DDD. TT: 65:14

I find Richard Goode's Beethoven a revelation.

Technically he's superb: textural separation between hands, variation of color and touch, and intuitive weighting of chords enable the composer's every linear thought process and structural concept to identify itself. Goode somehow manages to make you feel that you are hearing 100% Beethoven, without demanding more of it than was intended, or veneering it with his own artist's persona ... but per haps that in itself is the unmistakable hallmark of Richard Goode's artistry.

The early Op.10 sonatas are not the most demanding of Beethoven's canon for performer or listener; their relative simplicity can often make them seem dull by comparison with the greater works. Goode helps us to appreciate their perfection by highlighting, say, the rhythmic importance of various motifs in 1, the beauty of immaculately played semiquaver runs against staccato quavers in 2, and the legato/ staccato juxtaposition of voices in

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3. This is wonderful stuff, the product of a great deal of analytical thought and a highly developed musical sensitivity.

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Zoltan Kocsis's Beethoven program, with its duplicate Op.10 Sonata, is one of the most provocative I have ever heard. He plays Beethoven's first Sonata with the brittle touch and excitable dynamism of Glenn Gould's Bach.

Tempo indications and sforzando accents are interpreted with great eccentricity, but Kocsis's technique is truly phenomenal: his sparkling triplet quaver runs in the Proctissimo Finale are so precipitous that a chase in a Keystone Cops movie sprang to mind.

His "Pathétique" certainly requires an open mind: the Allegro fairly explodes out of the slow introduction, compelling one to marvel at his virtuosity rather than listen to the music.

The Rondo is also predictably breathtaking, but the whole performance was spoiled for me by the snatched final chord. With the "Tempest" following much too quickly on its heels, and feeling far too rushed for the rest of its course, neither Kocsis nor the listener is allowed to relax into anything like a seductive cantabile. A peculiarly idiosyncratic set of performances, then, that you'll love or hate; I suggest you try before you buy.

John O'Conor is yet another very different artist, as subjective in his approach as Goode seems objective, and who woos his listeners with lyricism rather than the type of pyrotechnic display favored by Kocsis. I can enjoy this too; his Op.109 is played with such intensity and passion that I can't believe anyone who would not be moved by this performance. But basically his whole technique is more light weight than Goode's, and while this is accept able in the E-major work, the last two Sonatas seem mere shadows. Here O'Conor seems to lack both technical power and vision. Beethoven was stretching form, meter, and the instrument to their utmost; one needs to be made aware of a teetering on the edge of destruction.

Even in passages where I would have predicted O'Conor to be excellent, like the l'istesso tempo di Arioso in the third movement of Op.110, his lyrical flair escapes him, the right-hand "song" flat against obtrusive strumming left-hand chords. If you want a truly excellent account of these last three sonatas, look no further than-you guessed it-Richard Goode on Nonesuch Elektra 79211-2, with Sonatas 28 and 29 thrown in for Goode measure.

-Barbara Jahn

BLOCH: String Quartets 2 & 3 Arabesque Z6626. TT 57:28 BLOCH: String Quartets 4 & 5 Arabesque Z6627. TE 61:42

Portland String Quartet Both: CD only. Frank Laico, eng.; Ward Botsford, prod. DDD. This is not the Ernest Bloch of the Concerti Grossi, recently reissued on Mercury. Nor is it the Bloch of Schelomo, on the same disc. Those works could be described, respectively, as neo classic and Hebraic (a term Bloch disliked and never attached to his music). The Bloch of the string quartets is a composer of tempestuous questioning.

Listening to this music is a bit like sitting in a hurricane, but with the advantage of being able to step above the fury and look down from a satellite's-eye-view on the beautiful organization of the storm. These pieces are magnificently constructed by an intellect that abhorred the superfluous and revered the organic. Within these quartets, one discovers not an experimenter but an eclectic, capable of fusing techniques as diverse as the fugue and the twelve-tone row into a seamless whole. Incorporating the dissonances and disjunct motions characteristic of much 20th-century music, these are demanding compositions for the listener, but their re wards are commensurate with the effort invested.

The Portland String Quartet does the music justice. But in a two-horse race, they finish a close second to the only other ensemble with currently available recordings of the works, the Pro Arte Quartet on Laurel. The reasons for the difference at first seem elusive. And, as is often the case in such instances, the superiority of one performance simply comes down to a more sympathetic shaping of individual notes and phrases. The Pro Arte seems to dig deeply into the mind and spirit of Bloch to present the music in a more moving and forcible manner.

Nowhere is this better illustrated than in the opening pizzicato passage of the third movement of Quartet 4. The Portland plays the notes with equal emphasis, and they sound much the way notes look on a page. The Pro Arte brings a rhythmic perspective to the passage, shaping it into a dimensional, vivid presence. And so it goes throughout the quartets. Heard on its own, the Portland Quartet does, indeed, sound convincing. But after listening to the Pro Arte, there can be little doubt that they more tellingly realize the spirit of the music. Of course, the Portland gives us Quartet 5, and the Pro Arte doesn't. The final quartet is a fine one, offering a more meditative, tuneful vein (despite its flirtation with atonality) that the Portland portrays beautifully.

Arabesque's sound quality does little to aid the Portland Quartet's cause, mirroring the group's slightly more tepid performances. The violins become somewhat steely on louder pas sages, and none of the instruments' naturally resonant timbres is particularly well preserved.

The Pro Arte receives somewhat better, though uneven, treatment by Laurel.

I do not hesitate to recommend the Portland Quartet's recordings based on their own merits, but must admit to being more enthusiastic in my preference for the Pro Arte's.

-Robert Hesson

LISZT: De Profutulis (completed by Michael Maxwell); Fantasy on Themes from Beethoven's Ruins of Athens

SCHUBERT/LISZT: Wanderer Fantasy Philip Thomson, piano; Kerry Stratton, Hungarian State Orchestra Hungaroton HCD 31525 (CD only)Janos Horvith, mg.; Michael Maxwell, prod. DDD. TT 68:24

The unusual work here is the nearly 35-minute-long De Profundis, an extremely original piano concerto that dates from 1834 and the time when Liszt was basking at the feet of the iconoclast Abbé Lamennais in Brittany, drinking in that guru's philosophies. This almost but not quite finished and unrevised work is per haps more reminiscent of the composer's Harmonies poétiques et religieuses than it is of the piano concertos, but, make no mistake, it is a major composition and one with a great deal of impressive and highly brilliant writing. The version heard here presents a completion by Canadian composer Michael Maxwell, in which the ending is more flamboyant than the quiet, incomplete original used in the competing performance on ASV by pianist Steven Mayer with Támas Vásary conducting. The latter also contains, in addition to the Totentanz, the recently discovered and reconstructed Piano Concerto in E-flat from the late 1830s, whereas the Hungaroton recording includes the Ruins of Athens Fantasy and the orchestration of Schubert's "Wanderer" Fantasy.

So far as the present performances are concerned, there can be little complaint, for all three works are rendered in a most invigorating fashion. Neither of the Liszt Fantasies had ever intrigued me much, but I found myself responding with unexpected enthusiasm to the brilliance of the solo playing and the sympathetic orchestral support. Imaging of the sound picture is very good. The piano, just slightly clattery, and orchestra are semi-distant, but present a nice aural spread.

-Igor Ilipnis

MAHLER: Symphony 4, Linter einesfahrenden Gesellen Neeme Jarvi; Linda Finnie, mezzo; Royal Scottish Orchestra Chandos CHAN 8951 (CD only). Ralph Couzens, eng.; Brian Couzens, prod. DDD. TF 76:25

MAHLER: Symphony 3 Leif Segerstam; Anne Gjevang, contralto; Copenhagen Boy's Choir, Danish National Radio Choir, Danish National Radio Symphony Orchestra Chandos CHAN 8970/71 (2 CDs only). Jorn Jacobsen, eng.; Michael Petersen, prod. DDD. TT: 104:20

IVES: Symphony 1

BARBER: Three Essays for Orchestra Neeme Járvi, Detroit Symphony Chandos CHAN 9053 (CD only). Dan Dene, Robert Shafer, engs.; Charles Greenwell, prod. DDD. TE 70:26

I'm permanently cynical about the torrent of Mahler cycles that have been rushing to market.

So when Járvi's Mahler began to appear, I was prepared to dislike it. Wrong. The first release is one of the best Mahler Fifths available. This Fourth, the second release, is admirable in its balance of the work's light and dark forces. It is overall sweet and bucolic, though not particularly light in texture or conception. Tempos are relaxed, occasionally crossing into heaviness--there are nightmarish forces at the periphery of this child's dream.

As if to remind us of this, Jarvi draws out the low strings at ca 13:20 of I, and generally darkens the timbres throughout II. The third movement is conducted at a full adagio, even slower than Bernstein/Concertgebouw, though Jarvi does not rivet the attention so firmly as Bernstein.

The booklet says little about Linda Finnie, a frequent partner in Jarvi's Chandos recordings, other than that she is a mezzo-soprano, though most of the parts she has recorded are for contralto. The part Mahler wrote for soprano in the symphony's fourth movement lies high for her, but her timbre adds a womanly quality to the Wunderhorn song, unexpected yet effective. The first two, lighter Wayfarer songs fare less well, Finnie and Jarvi lumbering where they should play. Murray/Litton on Virgin are closer to the spirit of these songs. Kh hab' emn glühende Messer is, however, excellent, benefiting from the performers' extravert personalities. An expansive Die zwei blauen Augen is good as well.

The sound on this disk is very good: a bit more forward than most Chandos recordings I've heard, with an excellent illusion of depth.

Chandos appears to be building a second Mahler cycle, with Leif Segerstam and the Dan ish Radio Symphony. I expect his Third to be less controversial than the Sixth that opened his cycle. Upon first hearing the opening movement, I was prepared for something special.

Segerstam draws out the trombone elegy and the slow march which follows, making them elemental and incantatory. My initial high expectations were tempered by the rest of the symphony. The second movement, though well played, lacks personality, with more than a whiff of the trifling. Segerstam comes back to life in the big music of III, managing wonderfully the mood change from pastoral interlude to climax at 17:40, his concentration continuing through the end of the movement.

Anne Gjevang's rich contralto lends strength to the fourth movement, but the music making here could benefit from more awe and mystery, as it could in V. In his very good VI, Seger stam, like Levine and Bernstein, seems to find in this music childlike, Charles Ives-ish quotations of sounds heard in the countryside. (The string chorale which opens the movement is here redolent of Ives's own Symphony 3.) Don't know if this is what Segerstam has in mind, but I think other Americans will hear it as well, while they won't with Horenstein or Haitink.

I'm impressed with Segerstam's deft handling of the long climax through the conclusion of the work, though the emotion I hear sounds as much like rage as the love Mahler originally set as the movement's subject. In isolation this works well enough, though I'm left unsure of the context for the violence, as well as of any principle tying together the performance of the whole symphony. First choices remain Horenstein, Levine, Bernstein (times 2), and Haitink.

Audiophile warning: this recording, like Segerstam's Sixth, suffers from a lack of bass.

Speaking of Charles Ives, Neeme has turned to that composer's Symphony 1 for his hundredth Chandos release. (Chandos has for the occasion coated the disc with gold, adding a few bucks to the cost.) Ives wrote the work while a Yale undergraduate composing under the advice of Professor Horatio Parker, a conservative pedagogue of Brahmsian allegiances.

Jarvi emphasizes the Teutonic influence rather more than I think the music warrants, so the first movement sounds like warmed-over Brahms, the sweet second, chorale-like movement like Dvorák, the third like a scherzo-trio from an early Bruckner symphony (Jarvi really makes this work). Jarvi renders the finale as if to exorcise its brassy American influence.

Among other recordings of the First, the very good Ormandy awaits reissue by Sony.

Best of all is the recent Michael Tilson-Thomas.

With Thomas you're more likely to hear Tchaikovsky than Brahms, and that's to the good.

What you hear most of all is the 22-year-old composer's love/hate relationship with Teutonic orthodoxy, his remarkable control of difficult material, and his irrepressible Americanness.

To my ears, Samuel Barber's three rather intellectual Essays are odd accompaniments for Ives, even if both composers were Americans.

Jarvi gives none of them a memorable performance; he broadens these quite different works to the point where they lose the energy necessary to assert their individuality. There are better recordings of each. Sony is again overdue in reissuing the Schippers/NYP Second Essay on CD. A good recording of the First is avail able on the audiophile label, Sheffield Lab. All three may be found on an RCA disc with Slatkin/St. Louis; I haven't heard it, but it has been widely praised.

Sound is more distant than on Jarvi's Mahler disc, as if listening down from the loge, and would be excellent if the strings didn't sound undernourished. More than compensating for this is the reference-quality reproduction of percussion, which figure prominently in the second and third Essays.

Chandos CDs are often just the things to get a convinced digitophobe to listen to the silver discs. These three releases mostly share that label's typical good sound, though I would recommend none as a top choice for performance.

-Kevin Conklin

MOZART: La clentenza di Tito

Anthony Rolfe Johnson, Tito; Anne Sobe von Otter, Sesto; Sylvia McNair, Servilia; Julia Varady, Vitellia; Catherine Robbin, Annio; Cornelius Hauptmann, Publio; Mon teverdi Choir, English Baroque Soloists; John Eliot Gardiner Archiv 431 806-2 (2 CDs only). Karl-August Naegler, prod. DDD. TE 118:04

Because I'm tired of trying to convince people that Clemenza is on a par with the da Ponte operas, I won't even bother citing chapter and verse. Those who know will rave about its concision, its lack of flab, its gorgeous, direct melodies, its subtle and not-so-subtle use of wind instruments, its remarkable first-act finale; all the while acknowledging that Mozart was stuck in the opera serial mode and wound up with an eponymous hero who is rather dull and goes nowhere, either dramatically or musically, from first to last. Detractors will harp on the lack of sexiness (for want of a better word), and never get further. No, it never thrills and titillates the way Cosi does, but it isn't supposed to. It's noble.

This new recording is a nice companion to Gardiner's recent Idomeneo on Archiv; both grew out of live performances, both are on original instruments, and in both the action moves briskly and the recitatives are urgent and dramatically apt. One also finds in both extraordinary singing and a few of the same performers. Rolfe Johnson is as fine a Tito as he was an Idomeneo, singing with class and clarity.

McNair's Ilia was lovely; so is her Servilia, making us wish there were more to the part.

Von Otter can apparently do no wrong-her Idamanœ was smooth and heroic while expressing vulnerability, and her Sesto is complex too, and sung with great virtuosity.

Julia Varady is fabulous as Virelli2, the opera's most fully drawn character. She has no trouble with the 2 1/2 -octave range, she's always expressive, and she sings the great showpiece, "Non piu di for," like a dream come true.

Catherine Robbin is a nice Annio; Hauptmann is a drab Publio (not altogether his fault). Needless to say, Gardiner's chorus and instrumentalists sing and play as if they mean it, and the recording is fin; with no evidence, except urgency of exclamation in the performers, of an audience. There are no mediocre performances of this opera available (that alone should tip the detractors off that they're wrong), and this one is terrific too. If it's original instruments you want, this one's for you. Otherwise, go for Davis, Bohm, or Kertész, the last two on bud get labels.

-Robert Levine

MOZART String Quartets 14 Az 15 Cleveland Quartet Telarc CD-80297 (CD only). Jack Renner, eng.; Judith Sherman, prod. DDD. TE 60:05

The Cleveland Quartet has existed for some time, but only cellist Paul Katz was part of the group that made its debut more than two decades ago. As presently constituted (with William Preucil, Peter Salaff, James Dunham), it is a formidable ensemble: technically adroit, beautifully balanced, and-as this release makes clear-highly responsive to the Classical style.

This is as fine an account of 14 as I have ever heard. Tempos are exceptionally well-judged, with animated allegros and a slow movement that, in its freedom from sentimentality, reveals the group's awareness that andante means "walking" in Italian. In addition, rhythm is rock steady and motivic profile sharply etched, traits that bring out the dramatic tension at the core of so much of the work. Adding to the performance's virtues is the Cleveland's decision to observe all repeats, a practice that produces four movements of roughly equal length.

Quartet 15 is almost as impressive. Technically the playing is every bit as accomplished, my only reservation being that the Cleveland is not quite so successful as other quartets (nota bly the Juilliard) in conveying this work's peculiar demonic gloom and eerie contrasts. Note, for example, how the slight tempo shifts for the Trio of the Minuet and the D-major variation of the finale undermine rather than italicize the sudden shift of harmonic color. Still, this is a performance that should prove generally appealing, and Telarc's close but natural sound offers welcome intimacy without the intrusion of extraneous noise generated by the musicians.

A distinguished release. -Mortimer H. Frank

Mozart: Piano Music Sonatas: No 5 in G, K.283; No.8 in D, K.311; Duport Variations, K.573; Rondo in D, K.485; Adagio in b, K.540 Stefan Vladar, piano Sony SK 46700 (CD only). Sid McLauchian, eng.; David Mottley, prod. DDD. TE 64:13

BRAHMS: Piano Music Sonata 1 in C, Op.1; Ballades 1-4, Op.10 Stefan Vladar, piano Sony SK 47196 (CD only). Marcus Herzog, eng.; David Mottley, prod. DDD. TE 54:21

At the age of 27, Stefan Vladar is emerging as one of the most talented of younger pianists.

Already to his credit is the distinction of having won the International Beethoven Competition at the age of 20. Three years later he recorded what remains-for a 23-year-old-remarkably sensitive performances of four of the Beethoven concertos (currently available on Naxos). Now, under contract to Sony, he continues to fulfill (as these two releases attest) the early prom- ise of his youth.

I approached the Mozart disc with some apprehension, having heard some disparaging remarks about it from fellow critics. But a listening did not confirm their views. Vladar's way with the composer may lack some of the subtlety and tension of Lili Krause, the tonal shadings and rhythmic nuances of Mitsuko Uchida, or the extreme use of tubato that stamps Alfred Brendel's most recent Mozartean excursions. It has, nevertheless, an assertive directness that removes the composer's music from an 18th-century drawing-room gentility that can neutralize the passion that lies beneath its ele gant surface. Granted, there may be passages in the Duport Variations and the Rondo in D that are a bit too machine-like and wanting in dynamic and rhythmic shadings. But elsewhere, Vladar produces these shadings, especially in dynamics, with resulting contrasts that probably exceed the capabilities of the keyboard instruments of Mozart's day. All the same, his overall approach is stylish, especially in its sparing use of the sustain pedal. In the main, this is vital, virile Mozart.

Even more impressive is the disc devoted to early Brahms works. The Op.1 Sonata, let it be remembered, is the piece with which Brahms chose to make his big initial splash (publishing it before the earlier Op.2 Sonata). It is a work that recalls the early C-Major Sonata of Beethoven and (more obviously) Beethoven's late "Hammerklavier" Sonata; furthermore, it reflects the strong influence of Schumann.

In short, the work is at once grandiose, ruminative, even potentially pompous, traits that, along with its technical difficulty, make it especially demanding.

Vladar meets all of its demands, handling its most difficult passages with seeming ease and avoiding what can easily become in this piece crass splashiness. The opening movement, in particular, has a grand dignity that also permits its more relaxed moments to sing without being sentimental. And in the finale there is fire aplenty, but never at the expense of clear articulation. Interestingly, too, Vladar's sonority in this work is rounder and less clangorous than in some of his previous recordings. The four Ballades are also impressive: rhythmically and technically secure, and tonally more pleasing than Vladar's previous efforts.

Both discs are recorded at fairly close range, which works better for Mozart than for Brahms, where the relatively flat perspective weakens the impact of the loudest, almost symphonic chordal writing. This, however, is a minor blemish on a very major achievement. More and more, it seems as if Stefan Vladar may become one of the pianistic stars of the 21st century.

-Mortimer H. Frank

MUSSORGSKY: Boris Godson Nicolai Ghiaurov, Boris; Nicola Ghiuselev, Pimen; Michail Svetlev, Grigory; Josef Frank, Shuisky; Stefka Mineva, Marina; Boris Martinovich, Rangoni; Dimiter Petkov, Varlaam; Minch Popov, Simpleton; others; Sofia National Opera Chorus, Sofia Festival Orchestra, Emil Tchakarov Sony S3K 45763 (3 CDs only). Michel Glotz, prod. DDD. TE 3:40:47

This is the second recording to show up in a couple of years which uses David Lloyd Jones's 1975 critical edition of Mussorgsky's original score. Like the Erato performance under Rostropovich (reviewed here in January 1991, Vol.14 No.1), it is absolutely complete, which is to say that both the St. Basil and the Kromy Forest scenes are included. I liked the Erato performance and I like this one-I find that I miss Rimsky's clanging and weightiness less and less and appreciate Mussorgsky's lean, mean approach more.

A pleasant surprise is how fresh Ghiaurov sounds (although I note that this was recorded in '86). His Boris is world-weary from the start, but he's amazingly potent as well. He can boom and growl, although perhaps not as vividly as Christoff, and the portrait he paints is complete.

This is a hard role-we only meet Boris four times in 3 1/2 hours, so we have to get to know him fast-and Ghiaurov covers all the bases.

Josef Frank's Shuisky is a good, malevolent foil, and the Pimen of Ghiuselev is eloquent and moving rather than didactic. Stefka Mineva's Marina is slightly more alluring than many (does anyone sound good in this role?), and Boris Martinovich scores high points with his Rangoni, a role which benefits from being presented complete. Svedev's Grigory/Dmitri occasionally sounds utterly strangled, but he's believable. Petkov's Varlaam is a washout, al though this could be Tchakarov's fault, and the rest of the cast is good without knocking us out.

Tchakarov is terrific in the one-on-one moments-the clock scene is truly spooky, the Marina-Rangoni scene a strange seduction- but his crowd is awfully well-mannered, and franldy, the Sofia Chorus is not as good as the orchestra. The sound, too, seems to favor the players over the massed chorus, but is other wise bright and vivid. I recommend this set for Ghiaurov (he's more authoritative than Raimondi on Erato) and the personal moments.

This is a Boris which makes a statement about sadness and sickness; it only misses it in the larger political sense.

-Robert Levine

RACHMANINOFF: Piano Concertos 2 ek 3 Horacio Gutiérrez, piano; Lorin Maazel, Pittsburgh Symphony Telarc CD-80259 (CD only). Jack Renner, eng.; Robert Woods, prod. DDD. TT 73:20

The attractive coupling of Rachmaninoff’s two finest concerti notwithstanding, the performances contained here are far from memorable Romantic sweep all too often is a missing commodity, at least on the part of the orchestral direction, and the milting of the soloist, for all of his obvious technical skills, places the piano in too much of a recessed position within the orchestra. The slightly grainy string tone lacks silkiness, imaging is adequate but not especially pronounced, and one does not obtain much feeling for the hall as a sound source.

-Igor Ripnis

RACHMANINOFF: Symphony 2

Semyon Bychkov, Orchestre de Paris Philips 432 101-2 (CD only). Hans Lauterslager, eng.; Hein Dekker, prod. DDD. V1 58:20

What a pleasant surprise! This Rach. 2 has everything I want from the work: a heartfelt but unsentimental approach, neat but spontaneous playing, and, above all, immaculate timing from Semyon Bychkov. True, he's free with rubato and aaelerandi, but he reads the emotional barometer so well that it all works perfectly.

This is one of those performances that feels right from the word go, and even though you feel that it can't last, and anticipate the place where things must almost inevitably fall apart, I'm happy to say that moment never comes.

The strings of the Orchestre de Paris play quite seamlessly, and are entirely in tune with Bychkov's vision and involvement. They re spond instantly to his tempi adjustments and calls to take a back seat when some more inti mate detail of orchestration needs nurturing.

Nor is there any weakness in tempi relation ship between movements; Bychkov is as strong in the Scherzo and Allegro vivace as in the beautiful but potentially elusive Adagio. This one comes strongly recommended.

-Barbara Jahn

STRAUSS: Four Loot Songs, 13 Songs Dame Kin i Te Kanawa, soprano; Sir Georg Sold, piano; Sir Georg Sold, Vienna Philharmonic London 430 511-2 (CD only). James Lock, JohnDunker ley engs.; Christopher Raeburn, prod. DDD. TE 50:18

Dame Kin has established quite a high profile in Strauss recently; with the role of Arabella already in her repertoire, the appearance of this recording and that of her Marschallin in Rosen kavalier coincided with her preparation as the Countess in Capriccio at Covent Garden. Al though I wouldn't regard her as a typical Strauss heroine, or German as her most fluent operatid lieder language, I was, to my surprise, impressed by this disc.

Neither she nor Sir Georg are prepared to linger mawkishly over the Four Last Songs, yet the music loses nothing of its beauty or repose by being hard-driven, its sentiments tackled head-on. It is encouraging to hear that these performers have confidence in the music per se, and have no intention of using it as a mirror to reflect their own glory. The VP0 supports with expected eloquence.

I was frankly amazed by Sir Georg's skillful handling of the demanding piano accompaniment to the 13 songs which fill out the disc.

These are wonderful performances, the septuagenarian displaying as much agility and vigor as Dame Khi does in her singing. Together they have made a fine selection that not only demonstrates Strauss's dazzling diversity but shows both performers tackling frippery and heartfelt sentiment with deceptive ease. The recordings are well-handled too, although the sudden intimacy of the songs with piano is initially jar ring. I recommend this disc, and will return to it often.

-Barbara Jahn

WAGNER: Catterammerung Eva Martón, Brünnhilde; Siegfried Jerusalem, Siegfried; John Tomlinson, Hagen; Thomas Hampson, Gunther; Eva-Maria Bundschuh, Gutrune; Marjana Lipovsek, Waltraute; Theo Adam, Alberich; Jard Van Nes, First Nom; Anne Sofie von Otter, Second Nom; Jean Eaglen, Third Nom; Julie Kaufmann, Woglinde; Silvia Her man, Wellgunde; Christine Hagen, Flosshilde; Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra & Chorus; Bernard Haitink

EMI CDCD 54485 (4 CDs only).

Wolfram Graul, Peter Alward, prods.; Martin Wühr, eng. DDD. TE 4: 17:42

It's easy to get jaded by the constant flood of record-company "product" that monthly drowns my desk: endless, unnecessary recordings of the standard repertoire by no-names with nothing to say.

Well, everyone should have such problems.

But as I sat on the edge of my seat for the more than 4 1/4 exciting hours of this final installment of Haitink's Ring cycle, I felt what I felt when Audiophile first hired me: I couldn't believe I was actually being paid to have such a great time.

As any critic will tell you, the convincing rave is the hardest sort of review to write-and the past few years' embarrassment of recorded Wagnerian riches has set me to scraping through the bottom of my barrel of superlatives. The two new studio cycles of Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen, from James Levine (on DG) and Bernard Haitink (EMI), both now complete, have, after not the strongest of starts, moved from strength to strength. With Levine's Siegfried (Vol.15 No.7) and now Haitink's Gotterdammerung, both have ended with recordings that challenge the best of the last 40 years.

In this concluding chapter of his Ring, Bernard Haitink once again proves himself a compellingly dramatic conductor. As much as I enjoyed Haitink's recording of Siegfried (Vol.15 No3), and Levine's of Gotterdammerung (Vol.15 No.2) even more, and Levine's own Siegfried (Vol.15 No.7) even more than both of those, I have to admit: of the two new Ring cycles, Haitink's Gotterdammerung is the pinnacle in terms of singing, conducting, and recorded sound.

As Levine grew into the cycle, seeming to discover only after recording Rheingold and Walleare that, yes, he did have something to say after all, his vision grew ever more grand, noble, and expansive. His own Gotterdammerung was very nearly profound, his Siegfried darker, more foreboding than any other. Levine's is definitely a god-driven Ring, vast elemental forces passing shuddering through his monumental world orchestra. His darkly elegiac grandiloquence in the Ring's last half almost makes up for his cold, lumbering emptiness in the first.

Haitink's approach has been quite different, and-considering his reputation of careful, balanced scholarship and impeccably "correct" if unexciting performances of the standard symphonic repertoire-all the more surprising.

For Haitink has, from the beginning (Die Walküre, Vol.13 No.4), been far more interested in the tale, in character and motive (this last in the senses of both Wagner and Stanislaysky), in real people and their problems.

This Gotterdammerung is a triumph of that approach. Everything I've always read about Furtwangler's vision of the Ring, but in his two extant recordings have never actually heard (a generational glitch?), I now hear in Haitink: that seemingly instinctive feel for the act-long line and rhythm of this architectonically most challenging of works, that sense of (quite literally) divinely inevitable unfolding, of a door opening upon a musical/dramatic tale ever and already in progress. Haitink shows no hesitation (as did Karajan for DG), nor does he drive the music past itself (as so many accuse Solti of doing); nothing here is rote (like Janowski), or a primer in some revisionist conductoral manifesto (Boulez). Haitink is spiritual without being too reverent (like Goodall) or remote (like much of Levine), and lean without Krauss's tendency toward scrawniness. In fact, and despite its entirely different tonality and pace, I find Haitink's Ring most similar to Beihm's: there is that same strength of pulse and through-line, of a gripping, necessary tale aching to be told, and of a conductor as enabler rather than visionary, window rather than interpreter.

Of course, I know: to make a work sound as if it has not been interpreted is in itself the best sort of interpretation-just as the perfect loud speaker will sound only "like" whatever music is being played through it. But there can be more than one kind of perfection. Where Beihm's strength was in the effortless Mozartean grace with which he made Wagner's massive orchestrations glitteringly dance without losing a bit of weight or heft, Haitink's is in his impeccably right pacing everywhere, in his superb balance, leading, and accompanying of his singers and orchestra, and in the burnished, polished, golden sound of the Bavarian Radio Sym phony. For this is a tonally sumptuous Gotter dammerung for the ages, sounding not at all "digital," but rich, effortless (again!), and-I listened to it in a single 4 1 / 4 -hour listening session-absolutely un-fatiguing.

With very different emphases, I was no less admiring of Levine's Gotterdammerung-until I started talking about the singers. But even here, in this dark age of Wagnerian singing, Haitink's recording-truly a singers' Gotterdammerung--can take its place with the best.

The Brünnhilde, Eva Martón, was the single drawback of Haitink's Walküre and Siegfried, but she seems to have got religion for Gotterdammerung. The transformation is astonishing. In the first two operas she seemed to have strength enough only for reining in her large, impressively rich, dark-toned dramatic soprano, leaving nothing whatever left over for nuances of character or emotion. Here, for the first time, she sounds like a fully-rounded person in extreme circumstances, and one who also just happens to be a world-class vocalist. In fact, she turns in one of the most emotionally pres ent, exciting, fire-breathing, strong-willed Gotterdammerung Brünnhildes I've ever heard, even rivaling Nilsson in some scenes. Brünnhilde is a complex character, a demigoddess newly awakened into mortality and swinging from madness to ecstasy to rage several times a day, and Martón is completely convincing. It's hard to believe this is the same singer who somnam bulated at full cry through Siegfried. Other than the fact that no one would ever mistake her for a native German speaker, the only drawback is what seems to be a slowly growing wobble.

But in a performance this vital, who cares? Even Nilsson had intonation problems.

Martón is almost perfectly matched in Siegfried Jerusalem's Siegfried. Jerusalem seems not to be enjoying himself as much as he did in Siegfried, but here he is in robust, if not exactly finely honed, voice (though he does seem to tire in his Act III retelling of the Forest Bird's advice). He brings an edge to the role that I have not heard before: of a Siegfried in some way aware of his role, if not its ultimate implications, within the curse-tangled universe of the Ring, and on whom the mantle of hero sometimes chafes. Sure, he'll do what's expected of him, but he'd really just rather have a good time. This is a Siegfried as Babbitt, his hail-fellow-well met beginning to fray around the edges, but who keeps on slapping backs because he doesn't know what else to do; a Siegfried just beginning to wonder why everyone around him isn't having as good a time as he is, when Hagen stabs him in the back. This could all just be a factor of the rough edges of Jerusalem's voice implying a more complex interpretation than the singer intended or was aware of, but it works perfectly, intended or not. For the first time, I was stimulated to imagine Siegfried at 50. Scary.

Perhaps most impressive in this recording, because so unexpected, are the Gibich half brothers, Gunther and Hagen, sung here by John Tomlinson and none other than Thomas Hampson. Haitink's casting of the latter as the traditionally weak-willed Gunther was a stroke of genius fully equivalent to Solti's choice of Fischer-Dieskau for the role almost 30 years ago: you get a strong singer/actor to play a weak character. Hampson's gorgeous baritone, unique tonal quality, and considerable dramatic range, though not quite as transparently, emotionally accessible as Dieskau's (whose mellifluous croon turned the usually hapless Gunther into a sensitive, reluctant poet-king), still create an interesting, vital character where too often one finds a generic doormat.

And Tomlinson's Hagen is, quite simply, the best since Gottlob Frick's-in some scenes, even better. The voice is big, dark, and serpentine flexible, and Tomlinson's Calling of the Vassals sounds disturbingly real-this is not pretty to listen to, nor should it be. But listen too to Hagen's short passage in I,i ("Gedenk des Trankes im Schrein"), in which he tells his half-brother and -sister of his idea of drugging Siegfried to forget Brünnhilde and fall in love with Gutrtme. In ten short lines he goes from hushed secrecy to quiet triumph to open gloating, Haitink and Tomlinson taking their time to fully experience all of this. It's a small moment, but one thoroughly digested, carefully observed. The entire opera is conducted and sung in this way, Haitink's infectious attentive ness to detail ever in the service of the characters and their inner lives. Listen to Karajan's DG recording for an example of how a dedication equally punctilious but exclusively musical robbed an entire Ring cycle of any life whatsoever, subjecting it to the paralysis of undiluted introspection.

Eva-Maria Bundschuh as Gutrune gives an introspective, matronly reading in a dark, covered voice. She is fully present emotionally, however, as is the very strong Madana Lipovsek as Waltraute, who reminded me of Christa Ludwig (the best) when she wasn't reminding me of herself; a classic performance. Theo Adam seems to have entirely recovered the singer in his Alberich, which in Rheingold had seemed almost entirely lost. But I've never heard a bad Alberich in this scene; the genius of Wagner's writing seems to make an exciting, commit ted performance easy, or inevitable, or both.

The three Noms, including as they do some of the better singers of their generation (Van Nes, von Otter), though impervious to technical complaint, are also proof against passion.

An argument can be made for this-they are, after all, the Fates, and hardly human-but I think it's a bad one; the one eventuality these particular Fates did not foresee was their own destruction. It should disturb them more than it does here.

The opera's other female trio, the Fthinemai dens, are simply perfect. Anna Russell once called Woglinde, Wellgunde, and Flosshilde "a sort of aquatic Andrews Sisters:' and that description was never more apt as here: the voices of Kaufmann, Herman, and Hagen-the first two reprising their Rheingold roles for Haitink--blend so richly and smoothly that it's difficult to believe they weren't all hatched together in the depths of the Rhine. They sing with a flawless balance of clarity and too-good-to be-true seduction (the Rhinemaidens were, after all, born to entice while themselves feeling nothing but amusement and curiosity), with out the almost too-heavy richness of Soles trio.

Singers, orchestra, conductor, and engineers all come together perfectly in Act II, that miracle of operatic concision and ever-mounting tension, joy and horror, celebration and intrigue, unconscious betrayal and blind revenge. Jerusalem and Marten are savage, drawing blood in their contradictory oaths on Hagen's spear- there is little nobility in them as they spit out charge and countercharge. No, the nobility is all in the orchestra, and lots of it. The Calling of the Vassals is electrifying, gripping as in no other recordings but Solti's and Levine's. I followed the easy-to-read libretto (thanks, EMI) line for line, on the edge of my seat throughout the entirety of this act I've heard a hundred times.

The rest of the opera is no less demanding of the listener's commitment and passion. Haitink gets power, massiveness, and bite from the orchestra in Siegfried's Funeral Music and Rhine Journey, and the Immolation Scene has all the apocalyptically autumnal, dying grandeur it needs. But do be careful when the Rhine over flows its banks to wash away the Gibichung Hall: what the engineers have done here out Culshaws Culshaw in special effects, and is shockingly appropriate. Owners of WAMMs and IRS Betas might first make out their wills.

The entirely natural, un-digital sound through out all 4 1/4 hours is that of a real orchestra and singers in the very real--and excellent--Herkulessaal of Munich's Royal Residenz. Though it's hard to believe they avoided it, there's no sonic hint of spot-miking, or of trigger-happy engineers riding gain on four dozen tracks. Per haps the most satisfyingly, realistically recorded studio Gotterdammerung ever (this is true for the entire cycle), and definitely the best-ever thunder between scenes ii and iii of Act I. Offstage horns (III,i) are handled as well as I've heard, again with no hint of electronic manipulation.

With this Gotterdammerung, Haitink's Ring finally bumps Clemens Krauss's live, mono 1953 Bayreuth recording from my list of Top Three to Recommend. It's almost as accessible as the Solti, though that and the Bohm still have the best singing overall. So Haitink is a very dose third choice for singing and conducting, and first choice for sound. But here's a reality check: While listening to this Gotterdammerung, I never once wished I was hearing a different recording, or even thinking that some one else did this bit here better; what little of that there was all came afterward. Haitink's recording is completely satisfying, and that's its glory. If you've never heard the work, it's a perfect first-and last-recording. And that's recommendation enough.

-Richard Lehnert

++++++++++++

CLASSICAL COLLECTIONS

BRAIIMS: Piano Music Sonata in f, Op5; Capriccio in b, Op.76 No.2; Intermezzo in e-flat, Op.118 No.6; Rhapsodies Op.79 No.1, Op.119 No.4 Murray Perahia, piano Sony SK 47181 (CD only). Bud Graham, Christian Mein cken, engs.; Steven Epstein, Andreas Neubronner, prods. DDD. TE 60:24

FRANCK/LISZT: Piano Music Franck: Prelude, Choral et Fugue Liszt Mepluito Waltz No.1, Sonetto 104 del Petratra, Waldesrauschen, Gnomenreigen, Au bord d'une source, Rhapsodic espagnole Murray Perahia, piano Sony SK 47180 (CD only). Kevin Boutote, Bud Graham, Pauline Heister, engs.; Steven Epstein, Andreas Neu bronner, prods. DDD. TE 60:14

Both these discs present Perahia at least partially removed from his former, more interior style of interpretation and now, seemingly, much more consciously extraverted. In the case of the Franck/Liszt program, the Prelude, Chorale, and Fugue is a stunning example of the Horowitzian approach, involving consider able excitement but also a most beautiful and dynamically wide color palette. Some of the Liszt, likewise, is stunning, notably the super brilliant, fire-eating virtuosity of the Spanish Rhapsody but also the dazzling and poetic Dance of the Gnomes and Au bord d'une source. Not everything conveys the kind of electricity that was Horowitz's or, for that matter, the Roman tic yearning that so characterizes Lipatti's classic Sonetto 104. Overall, despite gestures that seem more calculated than natural, this is an excellent example of a distinguished pianist opening up new chapters for himself.

The Brahms collection I found projected in an equally overt manner, but I sorely missed a feeling of expansion in the late and early works. The sonata lacks the rhythmic panache and typically rhapsodic rapture of the young Brahms. To be sure, there are some wonder fill moments, none more so than the exquisitely intimate second movement of that sonata, but Perahia's Brahms performances also made me aware of the pianist's two basic moods: breathtakingly quiet in the slow pieces and loud, extraverted, and not always emotionally convincing or spontaneous in the fast ones. There is, at the moment at least, not a great deal in between. The piano tone varies slightly from the greater depth and transparency of the Snape concert hall in England for the Franck and most of the Liszt to the marginally tighter sites used for the remaining material (UCLA's Royce Hall for the rest of the Liszt and the Brahms Sonata, a hall in Hamburg for the shorter Brahms). Of the two discs, the Brahms seemed less colorful and harder. -Igor Kipnis

CARLOS KLEIBER: 1992 New Year's Concert Works by Nikolai, Johann Strauss, Johann Strauss Jr., Josef Strauss Carlos Kleiber, Vienna Philharmonic Sony SK 48376 (CD only). Sid McLauchlan, eng.; Cord Gerben, prod. DDD. TT: 75:14

Those who caught last New Year's Day's telecast from Vienna will need no urging on my part to acquire some of the greatest Strauss Family performances to be heard on disc, past or present. The matching of this unique conductor-to my mind, one of the true greats of our time-with the Vienna Philharmonic is in every respect a superb combination. The selection includes a good number of popular favorites plus several lesser-known items, all rendered with incredible verve, marvelous precision, wonderfully detailed phrasing, and rhythmic élan. The fact that the whole disc is so irresistibly played makes it an essential acquisition, despite the fact that the reproduction, slightly shy in the bass (where is the fabled warmth of the VPO strings?), suffers from a decided lack of transparency, imaging that is no better than fair, and surprising harshness in the climaxes.

A few examples will suffice: the cymbals in the Music of the Spheres Waltz lack clarity and open ness, the high-pitched winds in the same piece tend to shriek, and the brass in the Thunder and Lightning Polka are unpleasantly raucous. None of the sound can in fairness be described as terrible or disastrous, but it's disappointing to think of the missed opportunities for really first-rate sound when one has performances of this caliber.

-Igor Kipnis

++++++++++++++++++

[adapted from Nov-1992 issue]

Also see:

No Looking Back -- Roy Goodman (Nov. 1992)

BUILDING A LIBRARY -- Munch and BSO