Toshio Yanagisawa founded the Balkan Chamber Orchestra back in 2007, and evidently they have developed into an exceptionally fine outfit. While both works are usually given light and flowing accounts, as befits their shared title, Yanagisawa takes a more relaxed view in the Dvorak, and imbues the Tchaikovsky with a symphonic intensity reminiscent of Herbert von Karajan's digital remake from the 1980s with the Berlin Philharmonic. Imagine Karajan's velvety cantabile on a chamber scale imbued with Rafael Kubelik's gentle freshness and charm, and you'll have an idea of the sound and manner of these beguiling performances. As recorded, the sound above the stave occasionally thins a little, although this finds compensation in an unusually light and agile (four-player) bass section, whose presence is clearly felt with a detailed sense of bass extension.

If the Dvorak might have benefited from a more imperative sense of its lyrical impulse, the Tchaikovsky possesses a greater sense of forward momentum and grip. The tricky waltz swings with an infectious lilt, the exchanges between upper and lower strings being deftly handled, and the elegiac slow movement is radiantly voiced and textured. The pizzicato accompanied secondary theme sounds resplendent here, as do the series of heartfelt swoons and sighs towards the end. The finale is unusually disciplined in attack and one hears a wealth of internal detail normally obscured by high-speed scampering.

[...] die rauschhaft-ekstatischen Momente dieser innerlich glühenden Musik lässt Armin Jordan mit dem Orchestre de la Suisse Romande hier regelrecht aufblühen. [...] Leidenschaftliche Steigerungen reißen den Zuhörer dabei in wahrhaft unmittelbarer Weise mit.

„Fantasque“ charakterisiert die vier Sonaten und ihre überzeugend geschlossene Wiedergabe. Denn so „wunderbar“ wie „phantastisch“ durchdringt Franziska Pietsch diese geistreich, aber auch emotional geprägte Musik, lässt sie künstlerisch hochsensibel und klangschön erblühen.

A commentator once made the observation that Fauré stood for the feminine qualities in music, in that his style was “flexible, smooth, circumspect, shimmering, and witty.” There’s scarcely wit in Fauré’s Violin Sonata No. 1, but the other adjectives are fitting; they could generally be applied to the three later French violin sonatas on this new release. Franck gave the genre of the violin sonata a new stature in France, but after the defeat of the Franco-Prussian War, there was a xenophobic backlash in Parisian musical circles. A much better predictor of the future is Fauré’s gentle dreaminess than Franck’s ambitiousness.

The much-admired German violinist Franziska Pietsch, who was born in East Germany in 1969 and began as a child prodigy, has already recorded the Franck Violin Sonata. She has had to shift into a different sound world for Fauré and the three other composers whose sonatas she plays in chronological order. The span is from 1877, when the Fauré received its Paris premiere at the rabidly nationalistic Société Nationale de Musique, to 1943, when Ginette Neveu premiered Poulenc’s Violin Sonata in Nazi-occupied Paris.

Fauré had for all intents and purposes patented a liquid style that is most apparent in the wash of sound produced by the piano in his chamber works. The constant passagework and arpeggiated chords risk monotony, and Pietsch is fortunate in having the superb Spanish pianist Josu De Solaun to partner with. This is their second album together, and both performers contribute their own voices, not to mention a vibrant musical imagination. The Fauré Sonata is delicately etched, and there’s a pristine quality about Pietsch’s varied tone that keeps the piece from cloying. It takes skill to balance the rhapsodic side of the music and a feeling of intimacy. De Solaun’s surges of Romantic euphoria are exciting when they appear, but Pietsch’s whispered phrasing is just as arresting.

Debussy began signing his compositions as “musician français” during World War I, and at the same time as making this patriotic gesture, his musical imagination became simpler (perhaps in the direction of populist appeal). I’ve tended to underrate the Violin Sonata of 1917, but during the Debussy centennial year Renaud Capuçon released a luminous, highly Romantic, and gorgeous-sounding version that was irresistible (Erato). Pietsch and De Solaun are startlingly different. They focus minutely on every phrase, injecting nuance at almost the microscopic scale, and in addition Pietsch uses a deliberately un-Romantic tone. Instead of being mannered, the result is utterly captivating, adding new dimensions one never suspected to exist. Their reading is the essence of the performer as a re-creative artist. There are moments, like the end of the first movement, that burst with bold exuberance, too. The opening of the second movement is so eerie that music which seemed fairly straightforward even from a great violinist like Capuçon acquires a kaleidoscopic range of color and mood. The closest kindred spirit I can think of is the equally daring and innovative Patricia Kopatchinskaja (there’s a strong kindship with Vilde Frang as well).

My shorthand for this style is that the violin is made to “speak” with the inflections of the human voice. As applied to the Ravel Violin Sonata, the effect is as magical as in the previous two pieces, and De Solaun shows a capacity for finding wonderfully expressive gestures in the piano part. Everyone remembers the second movement, titled “Blues,” which evokes a smoky den that isn’t quite in Harlem, more on the Left Bank. Pietsch’s delivery is slinkier than anyone I’ve heard before (a compliment). The finale may be titled “Perpetuum mobile,” but these performers go from a halting opening that sounds like a Motel T Ford with a balky starter to an angry buzzing wasp once the movement begins its rapid flight maneuvers.

I’d never heard the Poulenc Violin Sonata before (counting his previous attempts, it is at least his fourth try in the genre), and I anticipated something witty and slick, insouciant and clever by turns. Those might be accurate descriptions, but Pietsch responds to the historical moment in occupied Paris and adds an edge of desperate, frenetic energy that is very apt. The piece makes a good pair with the Ravel as two cabaret sonatas. Poulenc is often at his best in chamber music, and his Violin Sonata mixes cheery melodies, sentimentality, and a world-weary semblance to Edith Piaf. The present performance, like everything else here, is a wonder.

I cannot exaggerate the imagination and creative reach of this album. On the surface it replicates dozens of recordings of the Fauré, Debussy, and Ravel sonatas, but the music-making is entirely personal and unique. I’m avid now for anything Pietsch and De Solaun record.

Naast het bekend Divertimento, K. 563,staan op deze cd de 6 Preludes en Fuga’s van Bach, K. 404a, evenals het fragment K. Anh . 66 voor Strijktio.Mozarts Divertimento in Es, K. 563, voor viool, altviool en cello, werd gecomponeerd in 1788 en opgedragen aan Michael Puchberg, vriend en mede Vrijmetselaar van Mozart, die vaak hulp bood in de financiële nood van de jonge componist. Het was niet het eerste werk dat gecomponeerd werd voor strijktrio. Er waren reeds werken gecomponeerd voor viool, altviool en cello door bv. de Tsjechische componist Václav (Wenzel) Pichl, en nog eerder was er werk voor twee violen en contrabas gecomponeerd, waarschijnlijk gebaseerd op de triosonate. De première van Mozarts Divertimento vond plaats tijdens een reis door Duitsland, in Dresden in april 1789, met Anton Teyber viool, Mozart zelf, altviool, en Antonín Kraft, cello. Tussen april en juni 1789 reisde Mozart nl. met vorst Karl Lichnowsky over Praag, Dresden en Leipzig, naar de Pruisische koning Friedrich Wilhelm II. in Potsdam en Berlijn.

In het Divertimento in Es, de toonaard met de symbolische drie bémols zoals in “De Toverfluit”, creëerde Mozart een meesterwerk, episch, fijn geproportioneerd en ernstig, maar toch gevuld met de ontembare humor van de componist. Hoe bescheiden de bezetting ook lijkt, de muziek is rijk aan stemvoering, compositorische inventiviteit en gevarieerd samenspel. Maçonnieke idealen en symbolische getallen zijn overal aanwezig. Mozart behandelde elk van de drie strijkers als de eerste onder zijn gelijken, nu eens als aanvoerder van de melodie, dan eens als begeleider, of samenspelend in duo, afwisselend met één van de twee anderen.

Mozart maakte zijn arrangementen voor private, zondagse bijeenkomsten in het huis van de Oostenrijkse diplomaat van Nederlandse afkomst, baron van Swieten (foto’s), waar hij de altvioolpartij speelde. Van Swieten stond nl. bekend als een groot en actief muziekliefhebber. Hij organiseerde op zondagochtend om 12 uur concerten in de bibliotheek (foto) of in zijn appartementen in hetzelfde gebouw. Hij was de stichter van de Gesellschaft der Associierten voor de uitvoering van oude muziek en oratoria en bestelde bij Mozart de bewerking van vier werken van Georg Friedrich Händel: Acis en Galathea, Messiah, Ode for St Cecilia’s day en Alexander’s Feast.

Hij liet Mozart, die hem steeds ‘Van Suiten’ noemde, kennismaken met de fuga’s van Bach. Mozarts vrouw, Constanze Weber (foto), was meteen verrukt van deze muziek en drong bij Mozart aan om ook fuga’s te componeren. Niet lang na het overlijden van Mozart kwam Van Swieten in diens gezinswoning langs. Hij regelde Mozarts eenvoudige begrafenis en verzorgde een voorziening voor zijn zoon om in Praag te studeren. Van Swieten organiseerde ook een van de eerste uitvoeringen van Mozarts Requiem in januari 1793.

Mozarts studie van de oude meesters zou een belangrijke invloed blijken te hebben op zijn eigen, latere composities. Het zesdelig Divertimento, K. 563, uit 1788 wordt beschouwd als hét strijktrio bij uitstek. Het is kamermuziek van de hoogste orde, met rijke harmonieën en zorgvuldig uitgewerkt contrapunt. Hier stelde Mozart hogere technische eisen aan de uitvoerders dan in zijn vioolconcerti of zijn Sinfonia concertante, K. 364, voor viool, altviool en orkest. Met slechts 3 partijen bereikte Mozart verbazingwekkend veel diepte, met dubbelsnaren die soms de klank van een kwartet imiteren. Alle drie strijkinstrumenten worden gelijk behandeld, elk op zijn beurt neemt het voortouw, en ook de altviool en de cello kregen bijzondere melodielijnen. Dit prachtig werk bevat het volledig potentieel van het strijktrio-samenspel.

De enige andere complete werken voor strijktrio van Mozart zijn de Preludes en Fuga’s (VIII, XIV en XIII) van Bach, die Mozart heeft getranscribeerd. Door drie preludes aan zijn Bach-arrangementen toe te voegen, bereikte Mozart een indrukwekkende symbiose tussen Bachs muzikale taal en zijn eigen stijl. Bachs invloed is overigens ook in het Divertimento te horen, vooral in de polyfonie van de mineur variatie van de Andante-beweging, een thema met vier variaties. De preludes en fuga’s zijn unieke documenten van Mozarts studie van Bach. Ze bevatten drie fuga’s uit het Wohltemperierte Clavier, een fuga uit Die Kunst der Fuge en een fuga uit een orgelsonate, en een fuga van Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. Vier van de preludes zijn waarschijnlijk van Mozart zelf, terwijl Mozart twee preludes uit Bachs triosonates voor orgel koos. De uitvoerders zijn Burckhard Maiss, viool, Hannah Strijbos, altviool en Bogdan Jianu, cello.

In 1847 while touring as a pianist in Kiev, Liszt met Polish Princess Carolyne of Sayn–Wittgenstein, who became his companion for the rest of his life. In 1848 he accepted a conducting job in Weimar, where he and the Princess lived until 1861. Carolyne persuaded him to trade performing for composing, and those years, among his most prolific, produced the three works on this program.

As a young man, Liszt was already an admirer of Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy. In the 1840s he considered writing a chorus and orchestra work drawn from it, accompanied by a slideshow of scenes from the poem by German artist Bonaventura Genelli, but nothing came of it. In 1849, he composed Apres une Lecture du Dante: Fantasia quasi Sonata (the Dante Sonata) for piano. In 1855 he began the Dante Symphony based on the 'Inferno' and 'Purgatorio' sections of Dante's poem. He completed it in 1857.

The work begins with Virgil and Dante descending into the Inferno. Liszt supplied no text save for the Magnificat, but he included a few lines from the poem under score staves to guide the conductor's interpretation, most notably the opening brass motifs to the rhythms of the text over the Gates of Hell. Raging downward figures in the low brass follow and then a quiet section where Virgil and Dante meet adulterous lovers Francesca da Rimini and Paolo Malatesta. (Francesca was married to Paolo's brother, Giovanni. Their affair lasted ten years until Giovanni caught and killed them.) In sublime woodwind passages through a rapturous passage for strings, Francesca tells Dante their story, and he faints in despair. After a funereal chant in the muted horns, the descent into Hell resumes in the brass, followed by a soft menacing march and a thunderous conclusion. Many of those themes reappear in 'Purgatorio', which opens with a mysterious nocturnal pastorale with reflective woodwinds, a chantlike beautiful chorale, and urgent strings. A slow fugue (with touches of Berlioz) depicts Dante's journey up the Mountain of Purification. Liszt intended to describe Dante's arrival in 'Paradisio', but after son–in–law Richard Wagner convinced him that no composer can create an image of Heaven, he seamlessly turned the chorale into a Magnificat that Dante observesfrom the mountain. Carolyne urged Liszt to compose a loud, triumphant ending, which he did; but when Wagner objected, Liszt turned the new ending into a coda that can be tagged onto the original ending. Few conductors, Karabits included, use it.

For more on this fascinating work, consult Steve Haller's reviews (J/A 2011, J/A 2005, S/O 2009, M/J/2013) and Don O'Connor's perceptive introduction to the Liszt Overview.

This performance is sleek. The slightly blended texture of the opening to 'Inferno' maintains the weight of the low brass but mitigates its bite. In some performances those downward passages cut through so powerfully that one can imagine two giant hands pounding on Liszt's piano, but here they are more blended. The quiet midsection, beautifully played by winds (especially) and strings, could be more expressive and dig in more, but Karabits's reflective and narrative approach in an air of suspension works. The ending is similar to the opening. 'Purgatorio' maintains the suspended quality beautifully, but some performances are more expressive and urgent here. The fugue is refined and clearly drawn, though the violins are sometimes too bright. Busier scoring creates the impression of speeding up, but Karabits holds to his tempo. Liszt called for a female or boys chorus for the Magnificat. Karabits uses both, with the solo sung by boys. The composer also wanted the chorus out of sight. I doubt that is the case here, but the effect is Heavenly enough, and the work evaporates quietly away.

Karabits's sleek and polished Dante Symphony did not appeal to me at first, but it has grown on me a great deal, and it presents an interesting contrast with the heavier, more dramatic Sinopoli, Barenboim (N/D 1994 & 2011), Lopez–Cobos (J/A 2001), and Roth (M/J 2013), the ones favored by most ARG critics. (The Roth is with the period Les Siecles group that I have been critical of, but they are quite good here.) I have not heard the favorably reviewed Ahronovitch (J/A 2011), Haenchen (J/A 2005), and Noseda (S/O 2009). Not reviewed is the heavyweight Masur, which is exciting and gripping, if sometimes hurried in the slower places.

Liszt wrote Kunstlerfestzug zur Schillerfeier (Artist Pageant for a Schiller Celebration) for the 1857 unveiling of Ernst Rietschel's statue of Goethe and Schiller in front of the Weimar National Theater, but the work was not actually played until an 1859 celebration of Schiller's birth. Its controlled festive nature is structured in fast–slow–fast sections. It is based on themes from another Liszt Schiller piece, Die Ideale, and it sounds like a condensation of that. This is its only recording.

Lord Byron's Lament of Tasso (1856) fired Liszt's interest in the Italian poet, Torquato Tasso and led to this symphonic chronicle. The work is based on an Italian gondolier's song Liszt used in 'Chant du Gondolier' from Venezia e Napoli. The opening depicts Tasso's sufferings in an insane asylum where he was committed after behavioral problems as court poet of the House of Este in Ferrara, Italy. His life with the Estes is depicted in a lovely minuet that makes up the midsection. The third part describes his triumphal visit to Rome just before he died. Karabits achieves the right celebratory feeling in The Rome music, but the opening could use a greater touch of madness, and the minuet is dull. Alternatives include Silvestri (J/A 1999), Ferencsik (J/A 2005), Noseda (J/F 2006), Botstein (with a poor Dante M/A 2004), Fruhbeck de Burgos (in the Overview but not recommended by Haller—S/O 2001), Masur, and Ivan Fischer.

The engineers handle the churchlike acoustic of the Congress Centrum Neue Weimarhalle by exchanging some detail for ambiance in a way that suits the performances well. Just make sure the volume is high enough. Nicolas Dufetel's good notes would be improved by more on Dante.

This is the second Franz Liszt recording from Karabits and the sleek sounding orchestra with touches of Czech string sound.

Paul Tortelier (1914-90) was one of the greatest cellists of his time. This program consists of first releases of recordings he made in 1949, 1962, and 1964 at RIAS in Berlin. Some biography and some details of these recordings are given in Rüdiger Albrecht's excellent liner notes. Nothing is said of the pianists who worked with him here, but they are also excellent. The 1949 recordings include the great Bach Solo Cello Suite 6. That is the one originally intended for a five-stringed cello with an E string above the A string and therefore takes us up into the stratosphere sometimes. Though Tortelier's vibrato seems somewhat fast and unvaried, his phrasing is convincing and his technique excellent. Earlier that year he did the just as demanding Solo Cello Sonata by Kodaly. That is a little messy technically, but emotionally expressive. Tortelier made a later recording of it, along with his own Solo Suite in D minor (EMI 63292). With pianist Billing we have Schumann's three Fantasy Pieces, Op. 73 in a somewhat scratchy recording and Brahms's Sonata 1, without the exposition repeat but warmly emotional. We hear Tortelier as a composer with 'Trois p'tits tours'—amusing dances for cello and piano. Only the third of these was previously recorded, to my knowledge. From 1962 we have Fauré's Sonata 2 and Casella's Sonata 2. From 1964 we get Beethoven's Sonata 5, Mendelssohn's No. 2, Fauré's 'Papillon', and Paganini's Variations on Dal tuo Stellate Soglio (from Rossini's Moses in Egypt, transcribed for cello and piano by Luigi Silva). All of these are with Broddack on piano. They are played with technical prowess and are musically imaginative, though they don't make exposition repeats. This is well worth considering, since Tortelier is an important cellist. The sound is generally good.

Franziska Pietsch is one of the few musicians whose releases I eagerly anticipate. She is a very individual artist, one of the few with a recognizable style and interpretations unlike anyone else’s. Her recording of the violin sonata of Dmitri Shostakovich (S/O 2019) is rivalled only by the Khachatryan siblings’ (J/A 2008). Josu de Solaun did a superb job playing on that disc, and he is just as good here. Unless you want to add the sonata by Franck, who was Belgian but worked in Paris, Pietsch has collected all four of the most important French violin sonatas here. The Fauré is played beautifully, with enough propulsion in each movement but with occasional touches of rubato and tempo fluctuations to bring out interesting aspects of the score that others don’t, like their slow beginning to the finale. Going from the Fauré to the Debussy is a huge jump not only in time (41 years) but in style. We have entered the 20th Century and are well into the Great War. Fauré’s flowing melodies are replaced by fractured phrases and sudden, brief outbursts. I call this style of composition stream of consciousness. The duo is perfectly comfortable with this and understand it from the inside out. Again, their interpretation is unique. As in the Fauré, they take a bit of time to build energy in the finale, to good effect. Pietsch displays a wonderfully wide tonal palette in this sonata, which needs it more than any other violin sonata composed up to its time. Ravel’s sonata was completed in 1927, 10 years after Debussy’s, and it shows it. The first movement has a dignity and stateliness inspired by the postwar neoclassical movement. II, 'Blues’, is strongly influenced by American blacks, who were beginning to travel to Paris to perform at clubs and in shows like the Revue Negre of 1925, where Josephine Baker made her European debut. Pietsch and Solaun bring a smoky character to the movement. Their perpetual motion finale is fleet and bumptious at the same time. Francis Poulenc’s Violin Sonata was written in 1943, during the occupation. The piece is clearly a cri de coeur, and the duo bring out its pathos like few others, characterizing the various sections with great vividness. This is great, big-hearted playing. Only Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg and Anne-Marie McDermott are in this league (M/A 2006). Audite’s sound is superb, very full yet clear. The piano has a huge, rich sound without ever overbalancing the violin. Solaun’s booklet notes are very good. Pietsch’s instrument was made by the Milanese violin maker Carlo Antonio Testore in 1751.

Es gibt Klavierwerke, die muss man sich förmlich auf der Zunge – oder in den Ohren – zergehen lassen. Werke, die zutiefst berühren und in Welten führen, in die der Alltag nicht hineinreicht. Dazu gehören die Klavierwerke, die auf dieser CD eingespielt wurden: Franz Schuberts Klaviersonate Nr. 18 “Fantasia” und die Klaviersonate h-moll von Franz Liszt. Wunderbare Klaviermusik, die trotz ihrer Brillanz eine so wunderschöne Klarheit und Einfachheit aufweist, dass Herz und Sinne es rundum genießen können.

Warum Schubert und Liszt auf einer CD vereint wurden, darüber berichtet Wolfgang Rathert in einem ausführlichen Beitrag im Booklet. Ein kleiner Text über die Pianistin Jimin Oh-Havenith ist noch ergänzt. Schmal, aber ausreichend, dies Beiheft.

Zurück zur Musik: Jimin Oh-Havenith bietet dem Hörer einen großartigen Musikgenuss. Teilweise kräftig zupackend – besonders am Beginn der h-moll-Sonate –, teils zärtlich und liebevoll, dabei immer sehr ausdrucksvoll und genießerisch. Die einzelnen Sätze der Fantasia sind klanglich so deutlich, markant und nachvollziehbar, dabei technisch tadellos, dass man sich wirklich in der Musik verlieren kann. Und die h-moll-Sonate ist einfach grandios. Als Werk, wie auch als Interpretation. Dabei darf natürlich der hervorragend klingende Bösendorfer-Flügel des Leibniz-Saal in Hannover nicht unerwähnt bleiben.
Eine CD, die Klavierliebhaber sich sicher immer wieder gerne anhören.

Bei Andrea Lucchesini hat man von den ersten, warm strömenden Takten an das Gefühl, er überblicke die ganze Geschichte der B-Dur-Sonate, und kein Detail-Raffinement bricht diesen großen epischen Fluss, der sich in ganz konventionellen stilistischen Bahnen bewegt. Der Schluss des Andantes ist ein erstaunliches Exempel man möchte fast altmodisch sagen: keuscher, emotionaler Zurückhaltung. Er ist sich seiner gestalterischen Kraft so sicher, dass er die Mittel, mit denen er dieses Verdämmern gestaltet, derart zurücknehmen kann, dass wir kaum darauf achten, wie vollkommen er pedalisiert oder die unerhörten Harmoniewechsel ausleuchtet. Die zartsinnige Kunst, das Letzte nicht auszusprechen, gipfelt in der herzzerreißenden as-Moll-Episode des zweiten der späten Klavierstücke D. 946. […]