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Überhaupt ist jeder einzelne Musiker auf seiner Position ein Gewinn für das Ensemble. Die Freude am Spiel und der angenehme Respekt vor dem jeweils anderen Mitstreiter ist den ganzen Abend spürbar und kreiert eine zusätzlich angenehme Atmosphäre.

Norie Takahashi and Björn Lehmann’s piano duo has been around since 2009 and already has two previous releases on the Audite label: “Originals and Beyond” and “Transcriptions and Beyond.” Allusions and Beyond continues an exploration of familiar and more or less unknown repertoire, and this nicely programmed recording is packed with variety and interest.

Max Reger’s admiration for Johann Sebastian Bach knew no bounds, and he made around 150 transcriptions of his works, of which this Fifth Brandenburg Concerto is a fine example. This kind of music in piano duet can easily sound rather dated, and as a domestic entertainment it certainly belongs firmly in that period before we became provided with the passive ease of broadcast music. Takahashi/Lehmann turn in a nice performance with plenty of life and expression, not attempting to introduce ‘authentic’ atmosphere but also not making Reger’s version of the piece into anything heavier than it need be.

Equally if not more intriguing are György Kurtag’s transcriptions of Bach. Kurtag as a composer is quite an uncompromising modernist, but timid listeners need have no fears with regard to these tracks. Bach’s music is kept intact while the colour of the piano is broadened as an organ might with extra stops, adding octaves or fifths here and there and exploring contrasting registers for instance in the rumbling textures of Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu Dir. The added notes in O Lamm Gottes, unschuldig give the upper register a remarkable toy piano/music box effect.

With Bernd Alois Zimmermann we enter the world of two pianos as well as that avant-garde tension in which artistic abstraction meets the challenges of time and tradition. Zimmermann’s work in this period involves much layering of time in every sense, and the allusions here appear in unexpected musical quotes that emerge and mix with each other, pitting Bach against Messiaen, Debussy, Mozart and other elements including fragments of jazz. This is ‘music about music’: demanding, but with an acceptance of its poetic impact by no means unrewarding. Zimmermann’s stormy rages and sunlit shafts of beauty are to my mind like Beethoven’s – only difficult in their requirement of focus and clarity, and the musicians here certainly give a virtuoso demonstration of communicating the force and “imploring appeal” of this score.

The musical contrast here between Monologues and Brahms’ Variations on a Theme by Haydn could hardly be greater, but creates its own moment of musical magic. Takahashi/Lehmann play this work with plenty of detailed consideration, only giving in to legato richness where the variations demand it, but with nicely proportioned dynamic contrasts and articulation giving as much clarity as they deliver with the other works in this programme. Collectors will have their own favourites when it comes to recordings of this work, and I have my own soft spot for the heightened drama from Martha Argerich and Nelson Freire in their live Deutsche Grammophon recording (review), but this version will do very nicely.

Beautifully recorded and nicely presented, this is the kind of release I have no hesitation in recommending to anyone looking for a meaty and entertaining adventure into the toothsome sonorities of good piano duo playing.

Leopold I (1640–1705) was more than a music lover. In his youth he had an excellent musical training under Antonio Bertali. And he appears to have had enough talent to compose at least 69 works, most of them for voices. The program includes four of his most substantial pieces: two motets, Stabat Mater and Motetto de Septem Doloribus Beatae Mariae Virginis ‘Vertatur in Luctum Cythara Nostra’; a Mass for the Dead; and a setting of three lessons from the first nocturne of the Office of the Dead, titled Tres Lectiones I. Nocturni Pro Defunctis Piae Claudiae Felici Lugens Maestusque Leopoldus Posuit et Musicis Legibus Distinxit. These works exhibit solo vocal writing with continuo, chorus with orchestral accompaniment, and instrumental sonatas to open each one.

It is not the most inspiring music of the period, but it sounds glorious in the hands of these fine musicians. Leopold I combines choir and soloists with some skill, and the sonatas for cornetts, trombones, strings, and continuo sound quite lovely. There are striking moments in each work. For example, the setting of ‘Lachrymantem et Dolentem’ in the Motetto de Septem Doloribus Beatae Mariae Virginis has a descending chromatic subject for the opening point of imitation that seems to express the weeping inherent in the text. The Mass for the Dead, composed in 1673 for Leopold’s first wife (and niece) Margarita Teresa, shows heartfelt pathos in its restrained use of dissonance in the setting of ‘Requiem Aeternam’. Notes are in English, but the texts are translated into German only.

The Piano Quintet has not been recorded often; the same composer’s Piano Quartet has been recorded more. I have three recordings of the quintet, and I have grown to like it a lot. The Hyperion recording is British—Nash Ensemble—and dominated by the piano (Sept/Oct 2005). It is very straightforward but still quite pleasant. The Naxos (Sept/Oct 2013, coupled with the Piano Quartet) has excellent piano work from Cristina Ortiz and very sweet, sensitive playing by the Fine Arts Quartet (American). This one is more passionate than the others, and the pianist may be the best of the three. It is never rushed, but it comes across the way Italian males tend to do: eager and arduous but not especially tender. I like it! But I will need to keep the Naxos for the beautiful contrast. Certainly this recording deepened my respect for the music: there’s more here than I realized.

The string quartet (No. 1 in E minor) also seems to be a better piece than I had thought—probably again it’s the Italian passion and the German engineering. It still has some boring moments; Saint-Saens often wrote almost automatically.

This is a beautiful recording.

Maureen Forrester (1930–2010) had that rarest of voices, a true alto or contralto, placing her in the company of singers like Kathleen Ferrier and Helen Watts. We don’t train contraltos these days. Lower women’s voices are almost always made into mezzos, where the repertory choices are wider. In truth, we as a musical culture don’t much like the contralto voice, which is often characterized as “matronly”. Besides, the mezzo voice cuts through textures better and is more “exciting”. In the uncommonly perceptive liner notes, though, Heribert Henrich points out a chief difference between the voice types: the alto employs head voice with little use of chest voice, whereas the mezzo will typically use chest below the E above middle C. That means the alto voice is more homogeneous from top to bottom, even though the upper range is more limited than with the mezzo. With regard to Forrester in particular, we also note her narrow, tight vibrato and an ability to sing messa di voce anywhere in her range. Indeed, her excellent breath control, evenness of color, and intonation all point to an almost flawless technique.

These recordings, all produced by Berlin Radio, come from fairly early in her career. The repertory is remarkable, ranging from baroque (Johann Wolfgang Franck) up through Barber, Britten, and Poulenc, whose songs were modern for the mid-1950s. Her ability to scale back her voice makes the earlier music unusually satisfying, though perhaps the best example of her control is in Mahler’s ‘Ich atmet einen linden Duft’ or perhaps the very end of Barber’s ‘Clocher chante’. To hear what a contralto can do (that a mezzo can’t!) listen to the end of Schubert’s ‘An den Mond’, where the melody goes quite low with no change of register.

Forrester achieved considerable fame as a recitalist and oratorio singer, often with more than 150 appearances a year. She would have been better known and appreciated had she done opera. She was not drawn to the stage, partly out of personal choice, partly because there are few roles that suited her voice. Nonetheless, she did make a limited number of appearances, including Erda (the Ring) and Ulrica (Ballo), both at the Met, as well as Cornelia in Julius Caesar at New York City Opera. She also did some opera in Europe and her native Canada.

Her performances with orchestra, particularly Mahler, have been well documented by recording, but the song repertory has been less known, and here she does everything with piano accompaniment. Furthermore, she avoids the chestnuts with Schubert and Schumann; and with Loewe she chooses some lieder, not the familiar ballads. Nothing here is at all disappointing, but I would point to the Mahler and Wagner as perhaps the best of all. This is of particular interest to lovers of fine singing who also want to sample less heard pieces. The sound is quite good, and the liner notes are extensive and very informative, but there are no texts.

Last year I reviewed the Mandelring Quartett's 4-CD traversal through Mendelssohn’s complete chamber music for strings. It was my first encounter with this ensemble, formed in 1988 and based in Neustadt an der Weinstraße, Germany. It’s very much a family affair, comprising three siblings. Sebastian Schmidt leads, sister Nanette plays second fiddle, with brother Bernhard on the cello. In 2015, the viola player Roland Glassl was replaced by Andreas Willwohl, becoming the third violist the group has had since the quartet's formation in 1988. Glassl took over from Nora Niggeling in 1999. He rejoins them for this recording. To maintain their sense of family identity, the name Mandelring originates from the street where the Schmidt family lived. Their repertoire is far-reaching, embracing Haydn and Beethoven to Koechlin and Shostakovich. They've recorded the 15 Shostakovich quartets for Audite - their largest project to date (review). They now turn their hand to the two String Quintets by Brahms, both late works composed in 1882 (Op. 88) and 1890 (Op. 111).

The Quintets are richly scored and rank amongst the composer's finest chamber works. In both, Brahms chose to double the viola, following Mozart’s example, rather than adopting the Schubertian model of two cellos. I’ve never understood why the Op. 88 is one of his least popular chamber works. The composer, himself, thought very highly of it, describing it to Clara Schumann as ‘one of my finest works’, and to his publisher Simrock, ‘You have never before had such a beautiful work from me.’ The Mandelrings convey the affable pastoral character of the opening movement to perfection, without losing sight of its more wistful moments. There’s tremendous warmth and commitment in their playing, and this is captured by the first class recording quality. The second movement is unusual in that Brahms combines a slow movement with a scherzo. I love the way the players make the contrast between the heavier, solemn, slow section and the more light-hearted episode, which is kept nimble and light on its feet. The fugal passages in the finale are the composer’s nod to the Baroque. There’s plenty of cumulative energy in the performance, with an underlying restless feel. All the contrapuntal strands are neatly articulated and clearly projected.

Brahms intended his Second String Quintet to be his final composition. Fortunately this was not to be and, over the next seven years before his death in 1897, he went on to compose the Clarinet Trio and Quintet, the two Clarinet sonatas and the Opp. 116-119 piano pieces. Cast on a larger scale than its predecessor, the work displays virtuosic string writing, outshining any of his other chamber works. Perhaps his confidence was buoyed up by the successful instrumental writing of the Double Concerto, written three years earlier. Although low in spirit, fearing his creative powers were ebbing, the overall mood of the work doesn’t reflect this. The first movement opens exuberantly, and the Mandelring’s invigorating account and sense of abandon is compelling. Bernhard Schmidt’s surging cello figures at the beginning are confident and assured and add to the dramatic impact. There’s a subdued, introspective quality in the two inner movements, the Adagio especially is expressively contoured. The high energy returns in the finale, delivered with infectious vivacity and enthusiasm.

These performances benefit from clear, rich sounding sonics. For those seeking a recording of the two Quintets played with conviction and authority, this release from Audite neatly fits the bill. I look forward eagerly to their recording of the two Sextets, which I gather is in the pipeline.

Leopold von Hapsburg (1640–1705) is another one of the lost composers of the...

Ina Siedlaczek interpretiert diese 300 Jahre alten Lieder, begleitet vom Originalklang-Trio „Hamburger Ratsmusik“, sehr einfühlsam. Ihre Intonation ist klar, geschmeidig, schnörkellos, der Ausdruck zutiefst berührend. Die „deutsche Nuria Rial“ wird mit dieser exzellenten SACD, die man in Stereo, aber auch im Fünf-Kanal-Raumklang hören kann, viele neue Freunde finden.

Der junge Gulda hat zwischen 1950 und 1959 für Rias Berlin Mozart, Beethoven, Frederic Chopin, Debussy, Maurice Ravel, ja Prokofjews siebte Sonate eingespielt: makellos perfekt, virtuos ohne Allüre, bestechend stilsicher, in jeder Hinsicht kontrolliert, dabei mit energischem Drive – ein Musterschüler mit Überschuss (vier CDs bei audite).