In the immortal words of Julius, jacta alea est, the die is cast. (No, not Julius Futterman, audio freaks. Julius Caesar.) This will be strictly a CD and DAT column. There will be no LP's reviewed here, even though that possibility was brought up three issues ago. LP's are no longer a factor in purchasing decisions involving new releases, and our precious vinyl heritage is currently being archived on CD with considerably greater skill than was the case initially. A widely traveled industry figure recently observed that various audio journalists known for their anti-digital protestations seem to be playing nothing but CD's these days; their turntables are always being serviced, updated, exchanged, borrowed by a friend, etc., and therefore not available at the moment. Very interesting-and not surprising.

CD's from the Golden Age of Audio (Meaning Right Now)

By Peter Aczel Editor and Publisher

We have reached the point in the evolution of the CD where the least good new release sounds pretty nice and the best sounds awesome--and the same is true of the new CD players. I call that the golden age of audio because LP's and phono cartridges never came close to giving that kind of consistent satisfaction, even if the absolute best of them were quite wonderful. Today the medium is on an entirely new level of sonic reliability.

For that reason I want to get away from grouping my reviews label by label, as if that were the major determinant of audiophile interest. Although a few labels still offer more predictably excellent sound than others (especially the three D's and the double R-Delos, Denon, Dorian, and Reference Recordings), surprisingly good engineering is currently encountered with some regularity on many labels, major and minor. The reasonable thing to do now is to alphabetize by composer, like the catalogs, and treat the sound as just one more attribute of the recording.

Beethoven

Ludwig van Beethoven: Piano Sonatas. John O'Conor, piano. Volume I: Sonata No. 8 in C Minor, Op. 13 ("Pathétique"); No. 14 in C-sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 ("Moonlight"); No. 23 in F Minor Op. 57 ("Appassionata"). Volume II: Sonata No. 21 in C Major, Op. 53 ("Waldstein"); No. 17 in D Minor Op. 31, No. 2 ("Tempest"); No. 26 in E-flat Major, Op. 81a ("Les Adieux"). Volume Il: Sonata No. 15 in D Major, Op. 28 ("Pastoral"); No. 16 in G Major; Op. 31, No.1; No. 18 in E-flat Major, Op. 31, No. 3 ("Hunt"). Volume IV: Sonata No. 1 in F Minor, Op. 2; No. 2inA Major, Op. 2; No. 3 in C Major, Op. 2. Telarc CD-80118, CD 80160, CD-80185, CD-80214, respectively (all DDD, recorded 1985/1989 by Jack Renner, released 1986/1990).

Prof. Charles Rosen of the University of Chicago, one of the outstanding intellects of the music world and some thing of a cult figure as a pianist, points out in a recent article in The New York Review of Books that the piano sonatas of Beethoven and Schubert were not composed for concert hall performance but, in most cases, for a semiprivate soirée audience of 20 or 30 Viennese music lovers. John O'Conor plays Beethoven as if that were his principal guideline, and I find his intimate style, with its total eschewal of declamatory distensions, quite refreshing. My feeling as I listen to him is that he is playing for me, not for an adoring gallery, and that he wants me to understand the structure and flow of the music. Not that he is lacking in virtuosity; he is fleet fingered and accurate enough to satisfy any nitpicker of keyboard technique; but his aim is to make his audience say "aha" or "hm" rather than "wow." One could, of course, cynically speculate that a pianist who possesses neither the emotional profundity of a Schnabel nor the brilliance of a Horowitz is probably reduced, willy-nilly, to such a "good taste," musicianly approach. I feel, however, that a complete set of the Beethoven sonatas, which this Telarc series will eventually become, actually gains a certain reference value by avoiding extremes and normalizing its performance rhetoric to the middle of the spectrum. That helps to bring hotter and colder performances, when they occur, into proper perspective.

Since the highest opus number in these four volumes is 81a, it remains to be seen, or rather heard, how the O'Conor treatment suits the biggies like Op. 106 ("Hammerklavier") or Op. 111. His "Appassionata" is already a bit tame (i.e., unimpassioned) for my taste, although quite lovely in many respects. Hey, maybe his taste is more refined than mine.

As for the audio quality of these four CD's, Volumes IIT and IV were recorded in the same hall in Worcester, Massachusetts, with identical equipment, whereas Volumes I and II represent slightly earlier implementations of the same technique in two different halls in England, so that the sound is similar throughout but perhaps slightly superior in the later recordings. A spaced pair of Bruel & Kjaer 4006 omnidirectional condenser mikes is the common denominator of them all; like the playing of John O'Conor, that constitutes another "normative" factor here-even a recording engineer as pragmatic and as different from Jack Renner as John Eargle uses the very similar 4004's for solo piano- resulting in a solid, well-delineated, dynamic, completely unproblematic piano sound with a fairly close-up perspective but without any blow-your-socks-off ambitions. I can recommend this continuing series by the rising young Irish artist to all those who like their Beethoven straight up.

Berlioz

Hector Berlioz: Symphonie Fantastique, Op. 14. Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra, Eliahu Inbal, conductor. Denon CO-73208 (DDD, recorded 1987 by Detlev Kittler, released 1989).

The most fantastic thing about Berlioz's fantastic "episode from the life of an artist" is that it was composed in 1830, only six years after Beethoven's Ninth. The stylistic light-year Berlioz was able to put between himself and all who had preceded him still doesn't fail to astonish. This a very fine performance of this amazing work, in the deliberate, meticulously constructive manner of Inbal, who obviously believes that too many climaxes would be equivalent to no climax at all. He graduates the tension from movement to movement, phrasing each measure with exactly the emphasis it organically needs, and at the end the work escalates to an overwhelming blaze of glorious sound. There is something to be said for taking your time.

The recording with Denon's usual B&K technique in the Alte Oper in Frankfurt is very successful; the violins are smooth as silk; the timpani, bass drum, and lower strings are audible in almost frightening detail; but what are those RF birdies doing on Track 3, beginning at 4:41? This is too good a production for something like that to be allowed to slip through. Even so, if you believe in owning more than just one or two Fantastiques, get this disc.

Bernstein/Barber/Gershwin

Samuel Barber: Overture to "The School for Scandal." George Gershwin: An American in Paris. Leonard Bernstein: Arias and Barcarolles. Seattle Symphony, Gerard Schwarz, conductor; Jane Bunnell, mezzo-soprano; Dale Duesing, baritone. Delos DE 3078 (DDD, recorded 1989/1990 by John Eargle).

Along with the Walter Piston album reviewed below, this CD represents a new standard of sonic excellence in the Schwarz/Seattle series engineered by John Eargle, which I have already glorified more than sufficiently. The sound is cleaner, crisper, more transparent than ever, without even a suggestion of strain or hardness. Definitely 1990 demo quality. Could it be an improved method of digital encoding? The credits cryptically list "Digital Recording: Sony" where there used to be model numbers of the digital processing equipment. Very interesting...

A little over 50% of the music is a Bernstein joke, a cutesy farrago of fluff and nonsense composed (concocted?) in 1988, which Lenny must have considered very important because he let one Bright Sheng do the orchestration. I am decidedly underwhelmed. The best reason to buy this disc is a highly idiomatic performance of Gershwin's "An American in Paris" in-get this!-the uncut, original version that apparently has never been performed until now. About three minutes of music already fully orchestrated by the composer were excised from the premiere performance, for reasons no longer known, and can be heard here for the first time.

All that and a great bass drum, too, in the familiar passages.

Samuel Barber's eight-minute graduation thesis from the Curtis Institute (he was 22) is also a class act, a very nicely crafted piece of 1930's eclecticism and very nicely played.

Although I wouldn't include this album in "All the Classical Music Your Family Will Ever Need" (remember that incredible TV commercial?), I can recommend it for half of the music and all of the sound.

Bruckner

Anton Bruckner: Symphony No. 4 in E-flat Major ("Romantic"), ed. Nowak. Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Riccardo Chailly, conductor. London 425 613-2 (DDD, recorded 1988 by Colin Moorfoot, released 1990).

Anton Bruckner: Symphony No. 4 in E-flat Major ("Romantic"), original 1874 version. Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, Jesis Lépez-Cobos, conductor. Telarc CD-80244 (DDD, recorded 1990 by Jack Renner).

I happen to be one of those who find much of Bruckner's music disjointed, naively grandiose, and lacking the natural fluency of other grandiose 19th century composers like Wagner, Liszt, or Tchaikovsky. Nevertheless, I concur with the musicologist Alfred Einstein that Bruckner "produced his most harmonious work in his Fourth Symphony, which depends almost entirely on beauty of sound." For beauty of sound you would expect the Royal Concertgebouw to be an easy choice over the Cincinnati Sym phony, but such is not the case. Lépez-Cobos appears to have much more of a con amore approach to the symphony than Chailly, or perhaps more of a sense of occasion, since he is conducting the very rarely performed 1874 Urtext of the Fourth, published only in 1975, the first of five different versions by the perpetually self-doubting composer. The Cincinnatians respond to their conductor with beautiful sonorities and great discipline, and Jack Renner's recorded sound is more beautiful than Colin Moorfoot's, although the latter is very respectable in the Decca/London multimiked idiom. Jack Renner is back to his trusty old Schoeps omnis and getting much sweeter upper midrange and lower treble than in his recent Sennheiser recordings.

I unhesitatingly choose the Chailly, however, as the musically preferable disc of the two. The original 1874 version has a Scherzo totally different from and not nearly as brilliant as the "Hunting Scherzo" of the later versions, which also have a considerably altered Finale. As a non Brucknerian, I always thought it was those amazing brass passages in the later Scherzo that made the Fourth worth the price of admission. In this case Bruckner wasn't just being insecure to have listened to criticism; he did improve on the symphony, at least in my not very authoritative opinion.

Therefore, historical/puristic considerations aside, I opt for the standard Nowak edition-but then Chailly has lots of competition from greater conductors.

Dvorak

Antonin Dvorak: Piano Quartet in DMajor, Op. 23; Piano Quartet in E-flat Major, Op. 87. The Ames Piano Quartet: Mahlon Dar lington, violin; Laurence Burkhalter, viola; George Work, cello;

William David, piano. Dorian DOR-90125 (DDD, recorded 1989 by Craig Dory, released 1990).

For once I have to criticize, albeit mildly, Craig Dory's work at his favorite recording site, the Troy Savings Bank Music Hall. This recording of three stringed instruments and a piano is too reverberant; it should have been miked a little more dryly and intimately. I think Craig is so much in love with the unique acoustics of the TSBMH that he wants to make sure you don't miss the slightest nuance of it, but in this case the frame, so to speak, threatens to overwhelm the picture. Don't misunderstand me; it's still a very nice, musical sound, but from Craig I expect a "ten" every time.

The music here is one early work of Dvorak and one mature spellbinder; the players are excellent but not world class; even so they play the exceptionally lovely Lento of Op. 87 with sufficient flair to make me almost like the not quite-right recording. That movement, excerpted in advance on a Dorian sampler, remains the high point of the album. Overall, an honorable near miss.

Elgar

Sir Edward Elgar: Cockaigne (In London Town), Concert Over ture, Op. 40; Variations on an Original Theme (Enigma Variations), Op. 36; Serenade in E Minor for Strings, Op. 20; Salut d'amour (Liebesgruss), Op. 12. Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, David Zinman, conductor. Telarc CD-80192 (DDD, recorded 1989 by Jack Renner, released 1989/1990).

The first thing that struck me when I began to listen to this was how well the Baltimore orchestra was playing. No provincial symphony, this one. David Zinman is obviously doing a good job. The recording, too, shows Jack Renner in very good form; he seems to have figured out the Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in Baltimore to a T, and here again he is back to his nice Schoeps omnis after his flirtation with those overly aggressive Sennheisers. This is the kind of sound I expect from Telarc (see Issue No. 14, p. 39, third column).

The music is of course familiar; I don't claim to be an Elgar maven but I find his anglicized late-19th-century idiom without sentimentality quite exhilarating. The "Enigma Vari ations" are definitely a minor masterpiece-maybe not even so minor-and the "Cockaigne" overture is rousing good fun. Zinman conducts all of it with authority and sensitivity; short of a DDD recording of a resurrected Toscanini or Sir Adrian Boult, this will do.

Franck

César Franck: Symphony in D Minor; Variations symphoniques. Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Claus Peter Flor, conductor; Rudolf Firkusny, piano. RCA Victor Red Seal 60146-2-RC (DDD, recorded 1988/1989 by Mike Hatch & Mark Vigars, released 1990).

To me, the important part of this release is the Variations for piano and orchestra, not the Symphony. I like only the second movement of the latter; the rest strikes me as a bunch of overstated platitudes. Thus I am disinclined to judge the finer points of what is an obviously well-played, musicianly performance. The Variations, on the other hand, are a lovely, beautifully crafted, classically restrained work of lasting appeal-and an excellent vehicle for one of my longtime heroes, Rudolf Firkusny. He is now 78 years old, but when he was 50 he absolutely owned the Beethoven Third Piano Concerto, for example (in my opinion, at least), and his Mozart was equally marvelous, not to mention the Czech masters, which of course he played in the best native idiom. Here he is still the aristocratic, singing-toned, lyrical player of old, and the 15-minute piece becomes an intense musical experience under his hands. The 37-year old Ger man conductor, Flor, is new to me, but he is as good as is needed for this effort and so is the Royal Philharmonic.

The RCA recording is interesting because it is so smooth, sweet, rounded, and trouble-free. I suspect a commercially calculated restriction of dynamic range, making the album sound good on just about any system but not extraordinarily good on systems such as mine. Anyway, it's a better philosophy than boosting everything to the point of unpleasantness.

Handel

George Frideric Handel: Arias for Montagnana. David Thomas, bass; Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra, Nicholas McGegan, con ductor. Harmonia Mundi HMU 907016 (no SPARS code, recorded 1989 by Peter McGrath, released 1990).

When I heard excerpts from this for the first time at the 1990 Summer CES, I went to the Harmonia Mundi booth, identified myself to the man in charge, and said, "I can't live without this CD." He took pity on me and gave me a copy for review. What I didn't know then was that there's a certain sameness to all these florid, virtuoso bass arias (if you've heard three, you've heard all 17), but taken a few at a time, they remain absolutely dazzling even after repeated exposure to them.

Antonio Montagnana was the number one bass of Handel's oratorio company in 1732 and 1733; he was famed for his range, intonation, and super-accurate leaps. Handel composed Montagnana's showstoppers specifically to dis play his vocal equipment; the tendency toward repetitious ness is therefore not surprising. A good thing bears some repetition, however, and this music is definitely a good thing.

The surprise here is the English bass, David Thomas, widely known as a highly competent and thoroughly musi cal baroque specialist, but not as a superstar. Here he is one.

His stylistic confidence, vocal security, and general panache remind me of Ezio Pinza, although he may not quite match the latter in sheer beauty of voice. His bottom notes are astonishing; his energy is inexhaustible. You shouldn't deny yourself the experience of hearing this. What a singer! And, for once, I find myself in total agreement with McGegan's handling of the often brilliant orchestral parts-gorgeous playing, wonderful articulation.

The recording is something of a departure for Peter McGrath; the venue is a big sound studio at Lucasfilm in California, very different from his usual school chapels. I find the recorded sound to be a bit too reverberant for the music, but every note is crystal-clear and sweet, and the balances are perfect, so it really comes down to a matter of individual taste. I assume this is another Schoeps omni job, but why no SPARS code, Peter? Have you gone under ground as an AAD diehard? Mendelssohn/Schubert Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy: Piano Trio No. 1 in D Minor, Op. 49. Franz Schubert: Piano Trio No. 1 in B-flat Major, D898. The Rembrandt Trio: Valerie Tryon, piano; Gerard Kantarjian, violin; Coenraad Bloemendal, cello. Dorian DOR-90130 (DDD, recorded 1989 by Craig Dory, released 1990).

This, too, is a Troy Savings Bank Music Hall chamber music recording, just like the Dvorak album above, produced by the same team only two months later. The results, however, are distinctly superior in my opinion; the sound is a little less reverberant, with still plenty of liveness and sufficient TSBMH signature, and the three instrumentalists are superb.

These are wonderful works, needless to say, by two of the greatest masters of the piano trio form, so there is very little else to say except perhaps that this is what today's golden age of audio is all about. There may be greater performances than these in the catalog (bristling with names like Casals, Heifetz, Rubinstein, etc.), but this combination of lovely playing and you-are-there sound is a pleasure unique to our era.

Piston

Walter Piston: Symphony No. 2; Sinfonietta; Symphony No. 6. Seattle Symphony (in the Symphonies); New York Chamber Sym phony (in the Sinfonietta); Gerard Schwarz, conductor. Delos DE 3074 (DDD, recorded 1988/1989 by John Eargle, released 1990).

This is the CD John Eargle trots out these days when he wants to show his stuff to the fans. Enough said. The Symphony No. 6, especially, is state-of-the-art orchestral re cording, in transparency, spatial perspective, dynamics, and freedom from even momentary nasties (it was the last to be taped). To use John's own terminology, both "texture" and "structure" are close to perfection. Again, the credits say "Digital Recording: Sony" without specifying the actual en coding equipment (see also the Bernstein/Barber/Gershwin review above), so I don't know whether that had anything to do with the new sonic heights scaled here. John claims it was simply the right orchestration matching the right hall on the right day; he didn't do anything special. Modest man.

I am quite thrilled by the Seattle/Schwarz revival of mid-20th-century American symphonists (Walter Piston, Howard Hanson, David Diamond, etc.) because it has made me more keenly aware of the ridiculous musical snobberies prevailing during my formative years. My generation was expected to delight in Schonberg, Webern, and Elliott Carter, not to mention Stravinsky's dodecaphonic dotage, while smiling condescendingly at the highly accessible works of those neoclassical and neo-romantic eclectics. What non sense! Walter Piston is more enjoyable than the twelve-tone contortionists and at least as good a craftsman. If you like Shostakovich (and even the old snobs allowed that, since Stalin had forbidden him to compose like Alban Berg, right?), then there's no reason why you shouldn't find Piston's leaner, more classically restrained, but just as "popular" idiom equally appealing. The orchestration alone is worth your careful attention. And the Seattle Symphony is getting better all the time. Keep 'em coming, Delos.

Ravel

"Nojima Plays Ravel." Maurice Ravel: Miroirs, Gaspard de la nuit. Minoru Nojima, piano. Reference Recordings RR-35CD (DDD, recorded 1989 by Keith Johnson, released 1990).

When I raved about Nojima's Liszt in Issue No. 12, I was reacting to his astonishing combination of technique, drama, and lyricism. The man has the "chops" to play any thing accurately at any speed and any volume, but he is equally capable of expressive, singing phrasing when the music calls for it and doesn't feel the need to showcase his strength when that's not the point. Liszt gives him the opportunity for such contrasts of power and gentleness; Ravel is another matter. Ravel is cool, in the jazz sense. Rhythm, color, dynamic nuances, precision are the name of the game in Ravel, and it's a game that Nojima plays equally well. These are awesome performances.

This is supposed to be some of the hardest-to-play piano music in the world (especially the Gaspard de la nui), but you wouldn't know it listening to Nojima. He is experiencing about as much difficulty as if he were playing Fur Elise. The characteristic sonorities and coloristic effects of Ravel come through in his playing with greater conviction than 1 have heard from anyone since Gieseking, and the slower passages have continuity where lesser players tend to fragment them. And when flying fingers are needed- wow! At moments the piano whistles like the wind. Of course, Ravel is Ravel, not Beethoven. He doesn't transport you to Elysium (not me, anyway), and I don't expect the performer to make him sound transcendental. His music is a feast for the ear, not a probing of our emotions, and Nojima does it full justice.

The recording by Keith Johnson makes the upper strings of the piano, so important in this music, sound more vivid than I ever expected to hear through loudspeakers- absolutely stunning-but the hiss from the microphone elec tronics obtrudes even more than in the Nojima/Liszt album, probably because there are more pianissimo passages. I buttonholed Keith at the CES and asked him about this; the problem seems to be the very low output from the Coles figure-eight ribbon mike combined with less than ideal transformer matching to the preamp input. Keith has various fixes in the back of his mind but hasn't gotten around to them yet. To archive such a rare performance, I personally would have opted for a hiss-free B&K recording with possibly a smidgen less upper-string realism, but that's a value judgment which may not be Keith's or Tam Henderson's. Hiss or no-get this CD.

Schubert

Franz Schubert: Mass No. 2 in G Major, D167; Mass No. 6 in E flat Major, D950. Atlanta Symphony Orchestra & Choruses, Robert Shaw, conductor. In Mass No. 2: Dawn Upshaw, soprano; Da vid Gordon, tenor; William Stone, baritone. In Mass No. 6: Benita Valente, soprano; Marietta Simpson, mezzo-soprano; Jon Humphrey, tenor; Glenn Siebert, tenor; Myron Myers, baritone. Telarc CD-80212 (DDD, recorded 1988/1989 by Jack Renner, released 1990). Go to Track 9, 2:28, on this CD. Listen to the Et in carnatus est in the Credo of the E-flat mass. Isn't this the most beautiful music in the world? And hardly anyone ever talks about it! I must admit, of course, that I became addict ed to it on the basis of the Erich Leinsdorf recording from the 1960's (with the Berlin Philharmonic and St. Hedwig's Choir on EMI), not because of this performance. Leinsdorf's first tenor in that magical , sunlit nativity passage was the one and only Fritz Wunderlich; Shaw's soloists are not in that league-but who is? Shaw's choral work, on the other hand, is outstanding, maybe better than Leinsdorf's, and the many great choral passages come off splendidly (for ex ample the brooding Crucifixus that alternates with the Et in carnatus). This is late Schubert, composed in the last year of his life, when he produced nothing but towering master pieces. The early Mass is a simple, tuneful, and unimportant work.

As a footnote, I'd like to observe that Bach, in his B Minor Mass, treats the incarnation as a dark mystery al ready foreboding the pain and tragedy of the crucifixion, which is then followed by the unbridled joy of the resurrection--whereas to Schubert the incarnation is a pastoral idyll, the crucifixion a fateful disaster, and the resurrection almost a matter of course. The Protestant versus the Catholic perception, one could argue.

As for the sound, you can always assume that a Jack Renner choral recording will be excellent, and that is definitely the case here. Transparency, inner detail, spatial qualities, dynamics, transients are all what they're supposed to be at the summit of the art. Surprisingly, both Sennheiser and Schoeps microphones were used, so my theories about that are shaken, but then a choral/orchestral recording with solo singers has its own special rules. I love Schubert more than I love my theories, so I say- nice disc.

Verdi

Giuseppe Verdi: Messa da Requiem. Oberlin Musical Union & Orchestra, Daniel Moe, conductor; Carolyn James, soprano; Susan Toth Shafer, mezzo-soprano; Franco Farina, tenor; Gerald Craw ford, bass-baritone. Bainbridge Records BCD2103, Discs 1 and 2 (DDD, recorded 1988 by Brad Miller, released 1988).

This not a very new recording, but I received it only recently and find it rather interesting. It documents a live, large-scale musical event-in celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Verdi Requiem's first performance at the Oberlin College Conservatory of Music--strictly from the perspective of the conductor.

To quote Brad Miller's note: "Our intent was to archive an 'event' as it occurred; or to be more succinct, digitally record this 'live' performance from the perspective of Daniel Moe. A single microphone position was chosen, center stage and elevated over the podium.

The Colossus, a state-of-the-art, 4-channel digital recording system, employed a direct feed from the producer's own MS-4 microphone. No outboard mixers or amplifiers were used. The MS-4 is a discrete 4-channel surround (quadraphonic) device, with a frequency response of 2 Hz to 20 kHz, +2 dB. The microphone is DC servoed, which maintains low-frequency imaging very precisely, and will handle sound pressure levels (SPL) of 146 dB before clipping or distorting. The front and back channels were mixed together for this stereo compact disc..." What do I think of the sound? Stupendous--but...

The absence of any other microphone than the MS-4 makes the spatial perspective and overall balance utterly natural, uncomplicated, and plausible-the best I've heard. On the other hand, the words of the choir would have been much more distinctly audible with helper mikes, and I think any large commercial recording company would have opted for them, purism be damned. I'm not sorry, however; the disc as it is makes a wonderful imaging test tool. In every other way-dynamics, low-level decay, timbral accuracy, lack of distortion-the recording is fantastic. (No "ouch!" on the la dies' fortissimo top notes, not even a trace.) Since no subtle artfulness, as such, was possible in microphone deployment, I must attribute this success to the hardware--in which case other recording companies should take notice.

It has become something of a cliché that the Manzoni Requiem is operatic rather than religious in spirit, but what does that really mean? I think it means that Verdi always sounds like Verdi-but so does Beethoven, in which case the Missa Solemnis is symphonic, right? And isn't Parsifal religious in spirit even though it's an opera? I admit that the Recordare in the Dies Irae of the Requiem could be straight out of Aida, but that's something pretty good to be straight out of, as long as the singing is good. In this performance the singers are competent but not great, except the mezzo soprano Susan Toth Shafer, who is superb. Her lower range, especially, is quite thrilling. The playing of the conservatory orchestra is on a respectable professional level without pos ing a threat to the ranking of their colleagues in nearby Cleveland. Daniel Moe paces and phrases the music effec tively, but then anything by Verdi more or less plays itself; the "interpretation" is built in. (The man was a pro.) Overall, I'd have to say that this recording makes more of an audio statement than a musical one, but it is far from inferior musically.

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[adapted from TAC 15, Spring through Winter 1990-91 ]

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Also see:

The Present State of CD Player Technology: Who Is Doing It Right? By David A. Rich, Ph.D. Senior VLSI Design Engineer, TLSI, Inc. Adjunct Assistant Professor, Polytechnic University

Cartridge, Arm and Turntable vs. the Groove: Who's Winning?

Various audio and high-fidelity magazines