The sibling duo performs cello and piano pieces by four of the great minds of French Romanticism and Impressionism.

As the aesthetics and ideologies of classical music have evolved in the passing centuries, the cello sonata has boasted an enduring allure, captivating listeners and composers alike. In this album, siblings Bryan and Silvie Cheng perform cello sonatas by French composers of the Romantic and Impressionist eras, plus orchestral pieces arranged for cello and piano duo.

In the spotlight of this latest volume in Audite's Lucerne Festival edition is the Austrian violinist Wolfgang Schneiderhan (1915-2002). He was one of several artists who made an outstanding contribution to the Festival over the years since its inauguration in 1938. He first appeared there in 1949, and went on to make annual visits most years until 1985. His trio, in which he was joined by the pianist Edwin Fischer and the cellist Enrico Mainardi, appeared there several times. Schneiderhan also gave master-classes at Lucerne. The attraction of the present release is that it features three recordings revealing the diversity of the violinist's work at the Festival. All are broadcast performances, culled from the archives of Schweizer Radio und Fernsehen (SRF).

Schneiderhan studied with Otakar Ševčík in Pisek and later with Julius Winkler in Vienna. He fulfilled the role of first Concertmaster of the Vienna Symphony Orchestra from 1933 to 1937, and then went on to lead the illustrious Vienna Philharmonic from 1937 to 1951. He later pursued a solo career, becoming one of the mainstays at Deutsche Grammophon. His repertoire focused on the Viennese classics, but he later developed an interest in contemporary music, and made commercial inscriptions of works by Martin, Henze and Stravinsky.

The Mozart A major Concerto is the earliest surviving example of Schneiderhan at Lucerne, dating from August 1952. At the helm of the Swiss Festival Orchestra is none other than Paul Hindemith, who had stepped in at short notice for an indisposed Wilhelm Furtwängler. I've long been familiar with Schneiderhan's DG recording of this work from February 1967, where he directs his own performance with the Berlin Philharmonic. In fact, on that occasion, he set down all five concertos, the Adagio in E and the two Rondos. The same poise, refinement and elegance informs this earlier live airing. Tempi feel comfortable, and phrasing natural and unforced. The slow movement is beautifully realized, with Schneiderhan eloquently shaping the phrases, and Hindemith providing sensitive support.

Hans Werner Henze wrote three violin concertos, and the first dates from 1947 when he was twenty-one. This live performance was taped in August 1964. The violinist later went on to record it for DG in May 1968 with the composer, himself, conducting. The work, with its echoes of Hindemith, Bartók and Stravinsky, is set in four movements, and covers a wide emotional range. It makes formidable technical demands on the soloist. Schneiderhan delivers a confident and assured performance. The opening movement is deftly scored with some colourful orchestration, which Ferdinand Leitner points up effectively. Schneiderhan brings energy and panache to the scherzo-like second movement. The slow movement which follows has a dream-like quality, and reminded me very much of the second movement of the Berg Concerto. The finale has a neo-classical flavour, and is here performed with verve and vigour. The success of the performance is confirmed by the enthusiastic applause at the end.

The live performance of Frank Martin's Magnificat for soprano and solo violin from 1968 happens to be the premiere. The vocalist is the distinguished German soprano Irmgard Seefried (1919-1988). Seefried was married to Schneiderhan and the work was written for and dedicated to the couple. The conductor on this occasion is Bernard Haitink. Schneiderhan had already performed the composer's Violin Concerto with Haitink at the Festival two years earlier. Martin originally set out to write a Stabat Mater, but changed course. Seefried adopts a declamatory tone in the opening pages, with the violin very much consigned to the background. Four minutes in, the mood becomes more settled, with the violin emerging from the shadows. After a while the music becomes more rhythmically charged and strident. I was surprised how well the violin and singer blend in the mix. Martin's orchestration is brilliantly scored and colourful. The work ends in an atmosphere of serenity and peace. It's regrettable that no text is provided.

Transferred from the original master tapes, the performances sound very fine. Audite are to be commended for restoring these archival treasures.

Die rasche Lesart des Allegro con brio im Kopfsatz des G-Dur-Quintetts von...

Het ‘Magnificat’ stuwt naar een intense gevoel van vreugde en overweldigende achting als Maria het één en ander doorziet en haar zending aanneemt. De terughoudende Schneiderhan en de expressieve Seefried geven een enorme zeggingskracht aan het stuk. Ieder woord en elke noot is duidelijk en krijgt de juiste lading.

Three previously unreleased, live Lucerne Festival performances document the great French cellist Pierre Fournier (1906-1986) at the height of his career before Rostropovich, Jacqueline du Pré, and Yo-Yo Ma took center stage. He was an elegant stylist with a fine, classic technique, an organic sense of portamento, and a wonderful ability to float a line.

He was, in many ways, an alter ego to his more spontaneous contemporary, Paul Tortelier. Since 1962, Fournier’s studio recording of Dvorak’s Concerto in B minor, Op. 104, with the Berlin Philharmonic conducted by George Szell, has remained an example of the music’s aristocratic splendor in which the orchestra sets up the cello. In this live performance from 1967, with the Lucerne Festival Orchestra conducted by István Kertész, the orchestra listens to the cello with more affectionately intimate, yet still exciting results. The big tune in the first movement has never been more exquisitely, more lyrically played, either by French horn or the soloist – Fournier is staggeringly in command of the big octave run with precision-cut separate notes leading to the glissando covered by the orchestra at the end. As an example of the role courage plays in making it to the top, Fournier ramps up his intensity, size, and sweep whenever he loses his way or misses his mark – especially in his 1962 performance of Saint-Saens’ Cello Concerto in A minor, Op. 33, with Jean Martinon conducting, which otherwise is similarly satisfying without the sheer illumination. The CD concludes with Fournier’s performance of Casal’s Cant dels ocells in 1976, accompanied by strings at a memorial concert of the centenary of the great cellist’s birthday – he brief announcement he made playing tribute to Casals and Enrico Mainardi who had died a few months before, is included.

Des cinq coffrets que compte déjà cette passionante série (cf. nos 618, 622, 626, 631), et en attendant le dernier consacré à Haydn, le present volume s’impose comme le plus inattendu: il offer l’occasion inespérée d’entendre les Amadeus dans des oeuvres dont on ne leur connaissait aucun témoignage! Leur discographie ne comportant pas une seule note de Schumann, c’est dire l’émotion de voir surgir ces interpretations du Quintette avec piano et du Quatuor n° 3. Enfouies depuis des décennies dans les archives de la Radio berlinoise, elles garden tune fraicheur unique, n’ayant jamais servi de modèle à qui que ce soit. Ecoutez cet Opus 44, ardent et passionné, témoin de la sève de leurs jeunes années (1950), aux côtés de Conrad Hansen (élève puis assistant d’Edwin Fischer) dans une prise de son monophonique qui n’en perd pas un detail, avant de vous immerger dans le Quatuor en la majeur, sommet absolu de leur art (1962). Leur presence est si palpable qu’on jurerait étre assis au premier rang, l’oeil rive sur les archets, le soufflé coupé par cette liberté de ton. Et quelle ferveur dans les voix intérieures – l’alto de Peter Schidlof!

L’Adagio surpasse tout ce qu’on avait pu entendre jusque-lá. Aucune trace des Amadeus dans Mendelssohn, si ce n’est dans le bref Capriccio grave en 1955 chez HMV? C’était avant la découverte de cet Opus 12, partition d’un lyrisme radieux, captée en 1969.

Norbert Brainin s’en donne à coeur joie, usant de son vibrato inimitable, veritable signature de l’ensemble, nous entrainant dans l’élégance féerique, innocente ou pathétique, de cet univers si propre à son auteur.

Deux autres suprises nous attendant dans le dernier CD: le Quintette en la majeur de Dvorak dans une lecture particulièrement enjouée, puis une interprétation aussi personnelle que spectaculaire du Quatuor op. 27 de Grieg. Dans les autres oeuvres, on comparer aces capitations de jeunesse avec les gravures officielles, souvent très postérieures. C’est le cas du quatuor de Verdi, beaucoup plus tendui ici en 1962 que dans la gravure DG tardive de 1979. Tous dates des années 1950, leurs Brahms sont aussi fervents que touchants dans ces bandes de Radio réalisées sans montage, qui leur laissent exprimer tant de spontanéité. On reste envoûté dans l’Allegretto de l’opus 51 n° 1 ou dans l’Agitato de l’Opus 67, sans vouloir perdre une miette de l’Opus 34 ni du dialogue Brainin / Geuser dans l’Adagio de l’Opus 115, fascine par la complicité fusionnelle avec celui qu’on surnomma le cinquième home du quatuor, l’altiste Cecil Aronowitz (ne manqué surtout pas l’Adagio du Quintette en fa majeur de Bruckner).

This is gutsy playing, full of power and poetry, with crisp orchestral support.

La violoniste sait allier la beauté intrinsèque de sa sonorité à l’écriture acérée de Stravinsky. Elle forme avec Katia Skanavi un duo parfaitement affuté. [...] Avec le soutien du bel orchestre de la Deutsche Radio Philharmonie, dirigé par le chef hongrois Zsolt Nagy, Liana Gourdjia s’empare de cette partition avec une évidente autorité. Elle en assume vaillamment le caractère virtuose souhaité par le compositeur, ainsi que le style néoclassique, tout en soulignant l’invention de l’écriture. Sans froideur aucune, son interprétation charme l’oreille autant que l’esprit.

Der belgische Musiker Jeroen Berwaerts entwickelte das genreübergreifende Konzept dieser CD, tritt solistisch als Trompeter und Jazz-Vokalist auf und leitet das Ensemble ‘Salaputia Brass’. Diese Grenzüberschreitungen realisiert Berwaerts mit einer entwaffnenden Selbstverständlichkeit. Was so fern zu liegen scheint, kommt sich hier so nahe, dass Gabrieli und Gershwin quasi eins werden, Takemitsu sich mit einem Spiritual vermählt und Duke Ellington zwischen zwei Gabrieli-Stücken einen ganz normalen Platz findet. Da stört nichts, da reibt sich nichts, es entsteht nur Harmonie. Und die kommt vom wie immer herausragenden Musizieren des Ensembles ‘Salaputia Brass’ und dem Talent des Belgiers. Eine exzellente Mischung!

To combine Gabrieli and Gerswhin, Monteverdi and Duke Ellington in one program and to make it coherent, requires a very special talent. Jeroen Berwaerts obviously has such a gift, and together with the excellent Salaputia Brass he produced one enjoyable recording.

Although Saint-Saens is often called a youthful prodigy, as such he wasn't really of the calibre of Mozart or Mendelssohn. His Piano Quintet, written when he was 20, certainly gives hope of fine things to come, glowing as it does with enthusiasm and a determination to show off the pianist's technique. It also has its playful moments, but as time goes on, despite a fluent performance from the pianist, we begin to tire of the overuse of sequences and would relish a more equal partnership with the strings: as Poulenc was quick to admit, being a fine pianist can have drawbacks for a composer, fingers too readily taking the place of ears and mind.

We might therefore hope that Saint-Saens's first chamber work without piano might offer something special. Sadly it doesn't. In 1906 he declared his ambition to write 'a really beautiful string quartet', thereby implicitly criticising his first attempt at the genre, made seven years earlier. It gives me no pleasure to agree. Although the very opening is highly imaginative, from here on duty seems to call, with the weight of tradition sitting heavily on his shoulders. Quite simply, the material is rather dull and predictable, and playfulness is out. Matters are not improved by the close recording, which amplifies the impact of bows on strings with results that can be aurally fairly uncomfortable above mezzo forte; and I'm puzzled by the advertised contribution to the Quintet's scherzo of a double bass, not present in the score nor mentioned in the liner notes…