Man nehme das Turina-Trio, Ursula Monter am Klavier, Bertram Schade an der Violine und Ulrike Eickenbusch am Cello. Mann lasse sie Joaquin Turinas „Circolo“ op. 91, eine Fantasie, Hermann Zilchers “Klaviertrio” e-moll op. 56 und Antonin Dvoraks Klaviertrio e-moll op. 90, genannt „Dumky-Trio“, musizieren. Allen 3 Komponisten war es ein Anliegen, das Terrain der klassischen Drei-, bzw. Viersätzigkeit zu verlassen und dafür Elemente aus volkstümlichen Liedern und Tänzen aufzunehmen. Man merkt Joaquin Turinas Fantasie, die sich aus den 3 kompakten Sätzen „Sonnenaufgang“, „Mittag“ und „Abenddämmerung“ zusammensetzt, an, dass Manuel de Falla und Isaac Albeniz Pate gestanden haben. Inspiration und Impressionismus. Eine Violine, die vergnügt und anschmiegsam ist, ein Cello, das „lauert“. Hochfrequente Wechsel zwischen legati und detaches!
Geheimnisumwoben, schwermütiger, von Polarisierung getragen das „Ruhig fließen lassen“ von Hermann Zilcher. Ein bisschen Avantgarde a la Schönberg, Busoni, Hindemith. Obwohl Zilcher sich auch Brahms, Strauß und Reger verbunden fühlte. In der Dynamik nicht so amplitudenhaft, heiterer in Thematik und folkloristischer orientiert – so sind Hermann Zilchers „Variationen über ein walisisches Volkslied“. Bertram Schade und Ulrike Eickenbusch lassen ihre Instrumente ab und zu swingen!
Ein Feuerwerk der Temponuancen ist Dvoraks 6-sätziges „Dumky-Trio“. Monter, Schade und Eickenbusch spinnen den Gedanken, der „Dumka“ heißt, weiter.

Zwischen 1823 und etwa 1850 gab es im Klavierbau die Erscheinung...

It's good to be able to hear this very beautiful Streicher und Sohn fortepiano of 1829, which admirably suits Kommerell's sensitive performance of a selection of Mendelssohn's superbly crafted though nowadays rather neglected pieces. I would have like more of them: just under 50 minutes is pretty short measure for a CD that could easily have been half as long again. The programme booklet, however, is a disgrace. Fortepianos have been played and recorded for many years, and there's no longer any need to adopt an apologetic tone for venturing 'into the unaccustomed sound world of an original instrument, where today's standards of technical perfection are lacking. What is supposed to be imperfect? It is nonsense to suggest that early piano actions are incapable of fast repetition when their depth of touch is much less than that of a modem instrument. One may disagree with such statements in the German essay, but the English version is totally incomprehensible, for the translator obviously knows nothing whatever about piano actions, and invariably mistranslates the technical terms. ‘Oberschlägige Mechanik’ means ‘down-striking action’, not ‘upperstriking mechanism’! ‘The keyboard is very free-moving’ (what? how disconcerting! – in fact the German means that the touch is very light). Surely anyone with even a passing acquaintance with Viennese fortepianos knows that the correct translation of Auslösemechanik is ‘escapement action’, not the almost meaningless ‘release mechanism’. And what on earth is a ‘catcher slat’? (Answer: ’Fängerleiste’, i.e. check rail). I could go on, but my best advice is to buy the CD for some delightful music on a beautiful instrument, and to throw away the booklet unread.

One of the many frustrations for organists is that Mozart, the designator of the organ as the ‘King of Instruments’ and noted for his virtuoso performances during his life, left practically no organ music. But that has not stopped organists from delving amongst the pieces he wrote for mechanical organs and other keyboard works for music to perform under his name. This CD is typical of the result – a selection from the works edited by Martin Haselböck for organ including, of course, the two well-known and large-scale Fantasias in F minor (both written for a larger than usual barrel organ enclosed within a mausoleum for the Field Marshall Baron von Laudon in Vienna's ‘Müllersche Kunstgallerie’) and the equally popular (but more easily playable by humans) Adagio in C, written for the glass harmonica performances of the young Marianne Kirchgäßner. The choice of a modern organ is better than might at first seem, the recently built Metzler being broadly rooted in the Austrian late classical style, but with some later additions and influences, notably from the organ of the Silbermann brothers, whose organs Mozart knew well. A gently uneven temperament and a nicely musical flexibility to the winding add a touch of authenticity to the music, as does Martin Sander's clean and articulate playing. Some of the quieter registrations are of a style that was fairly well developed by Mozart's time, where several stops of the same pitch could he drawn together – the opening Adagio, for example, has no fewer than six 8' stops sounding all at once – a rich and sumptuous sound. The pleno pieces use a more traditionally baroque concept of registration, using variations on the principal ranks alone, with or without reeds. The concluding Fantasia in F minor, one of the grandest of Mozart's creations for any medium, is given an impressively forthright performance, contrasted with a nice tour of the gentler colours of the organ. I am not sure if there is a recording of either of these two Fantasias using the sorts of sounds that the original, and apparently fairly sizeable, barrel organ might have produced, but it would be an interesting project.

Seize lieder : voilà tout ce qu'il nous demeure d'Alma Mahler, le reste avant été détruit soigneusement par elle. Le peu qui lui aura échappé, hormis ces seize merveilles, les vicissitudes de l'existence l'auront dispersé. Mettre en parallèle les lieder d'Alma et ceux de son premier mari expose des univers antithétiques, Alma évoluant dans un monde bien plus proche de ceux, obscurcis par le romantisme chromatique, d'un Pfitzner ou du premier Zemlinsky (son professeur, mentor et amoureux platonique), que de la poétique rayonnante, de la clarté expressive, ou plus simplement du génie mélodique qui confère au lied mahlérien une absolue primauté sur les productions contemporaines.
On comparera le soprano subtil, jamais pris en défaut par les intervalles complexes, l'ambitus exigeant, la palette dynamique de Sabine Ritterbusch, parfaitement entourée par le piano évocateur et précis d'Heidi Kommerell, avec celui plus droit de Christina Högman (Bis) pour trois lieder communs aux deux programmes, ou avec Charlotte Margiono, splendide mais accompagnée pour tous les lieder d'Alma par un orchestre de chambre, ce qui fausse la donne, car la partie pianistique est autant un révélateur du talent d'Alma que l'est son génie du chant expressif (Globe). Avec les « Cinq Lieder » de l'Opus 38 (omis ici), animés par le duo Kirchschlager-Deutsch (Sony), on tient une quasi-intégrale des lieder d'Alma qui frôle la perfection.
Dans les opus plus courus de Gustav Mahler, Ritterbusch magnifie son timbre juvénile, toujours employé à bon escient, et plis seulement pour les opus de jeunesse, tout miel et soleil, ou à la nostalgie pénétrée d'harmonies moraves (« Erinnerung »), mais aussi dans le plus clair, le plus sereinement détaché des « Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen » que l'on ait entendus. Un duo à découvrir, qui fait œuvre utile.

Ob Mendelssohn, Schumann oder Mahler – in einer Zeit, die das künstlerische Selbstverständnis und überkommene Geschlechterrollen gründlich hinterfragt, üben komponierende Geschwister- und Ehepaare besonderen Reiz aus. Müsste bei ihnen nicht eine gegenseitige Beeinflussung oder sogar eine Ähnlichkeit im Personalstil spürbar werden? Bei den Mahlers werden solche Erwartungen gründlich enttäuscht: Während das Liedschaffen Gustav Mahlers sowohl stilistisch wie in seinem inhaltlichen Zuschnitt quer zum Zeitstil steht, ist das schmale Œuvre Alma Schindlers durchaus ein Produkt des Fin de Siècle mit spürbaren Einflüssen ihres Lehrers Zemlinsky und des aufkeimenden Expressionismus. Das hat fraglos seinen eigenen Reiz, namentlich in den erst jüngst wieder aufgetauchten Liedern „Leise weht ein erstes Blühn“ und dem vieldeutigen „Kennst du meine Nächte“, die Sabine Ritterbusch sehr eindringlich gestaltet. Freilich genügen wenige Takte aus „Frühlingsmorgen“ oder „Erinnerung“, Gesängen des 20-jährigen Mahler, um auch die Maßstäbe gerade zu rücken: Alma mag ein viel versprechendes Talent gewesen sein – die Konfrontation mit einem unbestrittenen Genie holt dennoch alle feministischen Blütenträume schnell auf den Boden der Realität zurück ...
Das mag nicht unbedingt im Sinne der beiden Interpretinnen gewesen sein. Gleichwohl überzeugen sie in den Liedern Almas stärker als bei den „Wunderhorn“-Liedern Gustavs, wo die übermächtige Konkurrenz noch mehr Details und vokale Nuancen zu entfalten weiß. Dessen ungeachtet verfügt Sabine Ritterbusch über eine ansprechende Sopranstimme, der man gern auf weiteren Liedplatten begegnen möchte.

Die Pianistin Heidi Kommerell ist für ihr Engagement in Sachen...

Alma Mahler-Werfel ist als Gefährtin bedeutender Künstler in die...

The German firm Audite has given us not only this near complete live cycle of Mahler symphonies (sans 4 or 8), but valuable Kubelik/Curzon readings of four Mozart and two Beethoven concertos. Of particular interest here is ‘Das Lied von der Erde’, since Kubelik did not record it for DG. Janet Baker fans will welcome a third CD version; and she sounds truly inspired by her conductor. ‘Der Einsame im Herbst’ may not have the sheer beauty of the version with Haitink but the finale surpasses most on records, with a real sense of the transcendental at the close. Kmentt too makes the most of his words; and the reedy Munich winds suit this score.
Recorded between 1967 and 1971, Kubelik's DG cycle has been at budget price for some time now (Collector 463 738-2, ten discs) and the Audite alternatives of 1, 5 and 7 have been in the shops for months. The NHK-recorded Ninth (Audite 95471), made during a 1975 Tokyo visit by the Bavarian RSO, was reviewed in CRC, Spring 2001 (I found the sound unfocused and the brass pinched in sound, but welcomed in particular playing ‘ablaze’ after the visionary episode in the Rondo burleske and a crowning finale). No. 1 on DG is widely admired but this 1979 version is more poetic still, wonderfully so in the introduction and trio at (II). There is something of a pal of resonance in place of applause, cut from all these Audite transfers. In No.7 the balance is more airy than DG’s multi-miked productions, and (as in No.5) Kubelik sounds less constrained than when working under studio conditions, although rhythm in the opening bars of (II) goes awry and the very opening note is succeeded by a sneeze! The disturbing and more shadowy extremes are more vividly characterised, the finale a riotous display.
Some critics feet that Kubelik gives us ‘Mahler-lite’ which may seem so in comparison with, say, Chailly's Decca cycle or the recent BPO/Abbado Third on DG – not to mention Bernstein's. But there is plenty of energy here, and the divided strings with basses set to the rear left give openness to textures. However, the strings are not opulent and the trumpets are often piercing. It would be fair to say that Kubelik conducted Mahler as if it were Mozart!
As it happens, in the most controversial of his readings, No. 6, the DG is preferable to the Audite, where Kubelik projects little empathy with its slow movement and where the Scherzo is less cohesive. The real problem is that the very fast speed for (I) affects ail subsequent tempo relationships. Nor does the finale of No. 3. one of the glories of the DG cycle, quite have that same radiance; the singers are the same, the Tölz Boys making a sound one imagines Mahler must have beard in his head, and this performance predates the DG by one month. Nevertheless, these newer issues of Nos 2 and 3 are worth hearing, the ‘Resurrection’ not least for Brigitte Fassbaender's account of the ‘Urlicht’.
Nowadays, every orchestra visiting London seems to programme Mahler's Fifth Symphony as a Showpiece, but in 1951 (when Bruno Walter's 78rpm set was the collector's only choice) a performance would surely have been uncommon even at the Concertgebouw – Mengelberg was prohibited from conducting in Holland from 1946 until he died that year. Although the start of (V) is marred by the horns, this is an interesting, well executed account with a weightier sound, from what one can surmise through the inevitable dimness – the last note of (I) is almost inaudible. The three versions vary sufficiently to quote true timings (none is given by Tahra): (I) 11m 34s/12m 39s/11m 35s (Tahra/Audite/DG); (II) 13m/14m 52s/13m 52s; (III) 15m 56s/17m 54s/17m 23s; (IV) 9m 24s/10m 24s/9m 44s); (V) 14m 26s/14m 57s/15m 29s. The live Munich version is tidier than on DG; the spectral imagery in (III) is
heavier in effect, too; and in the Adagietto the dynamic and phrasing shadings and poetic quality of the string playing also give the live performance the edge. Towards the end of the finale, and elsewhere the engineers reduced dynamic levels.
Tahra's booklet comprises an untidily set-out synopsis of Kubelik's career. Audite's have full description of the works with texts for Nos 2 and 3, and different back-cover colour portraits of the conductor.

The German firm Audite has given us not only this near complete live cycle of Mahler symphonies (sans 4 or 8), but valuable Kubelik/Curzon readings of four Mozart and two Beethoven concertos. Of particular interest here is ‘Das Lied von der Erde’, since Kubelik did not record it for DG. Janet Baker fans will welcome a third CD version; and she sounds truly inspired by her conductor. ‘Der Einsame im Herbst’ may not have the sheer beauty of the version with Haitink but the finale surpasses most on records, with a real sense of the transcendental at the close. Kmentt too makes the most of his words; and the reedy Munich winds suit this score.
Recorded between 1967 and 1971, Kubelik's DG cycle has been at budget price for some time now (Collector 463 738-2, ten discs) and the Audite alternatives of 1, 5 and 7 have been in the shops for months. The NHK-recorded Ninth (Audite 95471), made during a 1975 Tokyo visit by the Bavarian RSO, was reviewed in CRC, Spring 2001 (I found the sound unfocused and the brass pinched in sound, but welcomed in particular playing ‘ablaze’ after the visionary episode in the Rondo burleske and a crowning finale). No. 1 on DG is widely admired but this 1979 version is more poetic still, wonderfully so in the introduction and trio at (II). There is something of a pal of resonance in place of applause, cut from all these Audite transfers. In No.7 the balance is more airy than DG’s multi-miked productions, and (as in No.5) Kubelik sounds less constrained than when working under studio conditions, although rhythm in the opening bars of (II) goes awry and the very opening note is succeeded by a sneeze! The disturbing and more shadowy extremes are more vividly characterised, the finale a riotous display.
Some critics feet that Kubelik gives us ‘Mahler-lite’ which may seem so in comparison with, say, Chailly's Decca cycle or the recent BPO/Abbado Third on DG – not to mention Bernstein's. But there is plenty of energy here, and the divided strings with basses set to the rear left give openness to textures. However, the strings are not opulent and the trumpets are often piercing. It would be fair to say that Kubelik conducted Mahler as if it were Mozart!
As it happens, in the most controversial of his readings, No. 6, the DG is preferable to the Audite, where Kubelik projects little empathy with its slow movement and where the Scherzo is less cohesive. The real problem is that the very fast speed for (I) affects ail subsequent tempo relationships. Nor does the finale of No. 3. one of the glories of the DG cycle, quite have that same radiance; the singers are the same, the Tölz Boys making a sound one imagines Mahler must have beard in his head, and this performance predates the DG by one month. Nevertheless, these newer issues of Nos 2 and 3 are worth hearing, the ‘Resurrection’ not least for Brigitte Fassbaender's account of the ‘Urlicht’.
Nowadays, every orchestra visiting London seems to programme Mahler's Fifth Symphony as a Showpiece, but in 1951 (when Bruno Walter's 78rpm set was the collector's only choice) a performance would surely have been uncommon even at the Concertgebouw – Mengelberg was prohibited from conducting in Holland from 1946 until he died that year. Although the start of (V) is marred by the horns, this is an interesting, well executed account with a weightier sound, from what one can surmise through the inevitable dimness – the last note of (I) is almost inaudible. The three versions vary sufficiently to quote true timings (none is given by Tahra): (I) 11m 34s/12m 39s/11m 35s (Tahra/Audite/DG); (II) 13m/14m 52s/13m 52s; (III) 15m 56s/17m 54s/17m 23s; (IV) 9m 24s/10m 24s/9m 44s); (V) 14m 26s/14m 57s/15m 29s. The live Munich version is tidier than on DG; the spectral imagery in (III) is
heavier in effect, too; and in the Adagietto the dynamic and phrasing shadings and poetic quality of the string playing also give the live performance the edge. Towards the end of the finale, and elsewhere the engineers reduced dynamic levels.
Tahra's booklet comprises an untidily set-out synopsis of Kubelik's career. Audite's have full description of the works with texts for Nos 2 and 3, and different back-cover colour portraits of the conductor.