These three works all bring out Reger’s Mozartian sensibilities. The textures are clear and the movements are well structured and well proportioned. Yet there is little sense of Neoclassical restraint here: The music is passionate and often intense. The op. 77b String Trio dates from 1904, during Reger’s Munich years, his most progressive and experimental phase. But writing for just three instruments brought a clarity and focus to his music that was often lacking in his larger projects of the time. The op. 141b String Trio and the op. 133 Piano Quartet date from 1915 and 1914 respectively, towards the end of Reger’s short life, when he had retreated to Jena and resolved to write music to his own taste, rather than compete with the fashions of the day. So there is directness and simplicity here too, along with a good helping of the sophisticated harmony and intricate counterpoint that we find in almost all his music.

The German ensemble Trio Lirico do an outstanding job, giving performances that are light and buoyant, with beautiful clarity of texture and finely gauged balance between the instruments. Focused articulation helps to propel the lines, and the viola and cello in particular often display a woody, tactile attack, while the overall tone is suitably balanced between transparency and richness. Pianist Detlev Eisinger fits perfectly into the ensemble for the Piano Quartet. In all three performances, the string players indulge in some sweeping rubato gestures in the transitions—ideal for this music—and Eisinger seems to goad them even further, into daringly broad and opulent phrasing. The gamble always pays off.

As with most of Reger’s chamber music, the competition for these three works is select but strong. And, as usual, the benchmark is the MDG series from the 1990s. The string trios there, from the Mannheimer String Quartet (MDG Gold 336 0711 and 336 0722) are weightier in tone and recorded in a warmer and more ambient setting that is easier on the ear where these are more confrontational. Interpretively, they are similarly well executed and conveyed, so the two versions deserve joint top billing. But don’t miss the excellent version from the Vogl Trio on Gramola (98943). Their approach is lighter and more conversational in the counterpoint, lacking a little in drama but still impressive.

The MDG version of the Piano Quartet, again with the Mannheimer String Quartet, with pianist Claudius Tanski (336 0714) has a compelling sense of urgency in the first movement which Trio Lirico seem to lack, at least by comparison. But the audio quality on the new version is superior. The other versions available are not competitive: The Fanny Mendelssohn String Quartet (Troubadour 1415) is rushed, while the Aperto Piano Quartet (Naxos 8.570786) lacks focus and engagement, and neither version comes close to this or the MDG for audio quality.

Generous running time and an unusually well-translated booklet round out an attractive package. Just one complaint: The Audite label used to champion SACD. Its new approach seems to be to issue standard CDs, but with a high-resolution, surround-sound download equivalent. I’m sorry to have missed out on that, but it could potentially elevate this joint first into a clear winner.

Toujours soucieux de mettre ses pas dans ceux de ses augustes modèles, Max Reger ne pou – vait pas passer à côté du trio à cordes illustré par Mozart (le génial Divertimento KV 563 ) et Beethoven (les Opus 3, 8 et 9). Il en a composé deux, glissés dans des opus doubles (ce qui explique le « b » après le numéro). La volonté de simplification du langage s’y accorde à la concision du propos. Le naturel l’emporte, et la qualité de l’écriture n’a rien à envier à celle des quatuors, datant de la même époque. Quant au Quatuor avec piano n° 2 de 1915, une des dernières œuvres de Reger, il se situe dans la descendance avouée de l’ Opus 60 de Brahms, tout comme le quintette avec clarinette, à peine plus tardif, s’inspire également de l’ Opus 115 de son prédécesseur.

Le Trio Lirico, formation allemande créée en 2014, maîtrise les codes très spécifiques du Reger tardif (entre épure et tension harmonique extrême). Detlev Eisinger apporte une densité du son toute brahmsienne au Quatuor op. 133, dont il fait un chef-d’œuvre comparable au Quintette avec clarinette op. 146, avec une plus grande décantation que dans le Quatuor op. 113. Ce programme original n’a pour concurrence que la série MDG du Quatuor de Mannheim avec Claudius Tansky, aux couplages différents. La version des quatuors avec piano par le Quatuor Elyséen, dans l’ancienne intégrale Da camera Magna, s’incline devant les nouveaux venus.

One of my fondest concert memories from the late 1960s is of hearing the Amadeus Quartet in recital at a north London school playing Bartok's Fourth Quartet, a work that on first acquaintance thrilled me to the core, though my first record of the work – a very different sort of performance – was by the original Fine Arts Quartet (Saga LP, Music & Arts CD). Sadly the Amadeus never recorded a Bartok cycle so the appearance in the fourth volume of Audite's collection of the quartet's 'RIAS recordings' of the Fourth and Sixth Quartets, both recorded a good decade before I saw that Hampstead performance, is particularly valuable.

The second CD opens with Matyas Seiber's Third Quartet, Quartetto lirico, which is noticeably influenced by Bartok, the Sixth Quartet especially, and the Amadeus play it marvellously well. The opening minute or so of Bartok's Fourth sounds a little uncertain: the pizzicato Scherzo is rather measured and the wildcat finale lacks the sort of animal vigour that the Juilliards, the Veghs and indeed the Fine Arts brought to It. The performance's highlight is Martin Lovett's passionately rhapsodic cello solo in the slow third movement. The Sixth's first movement is at times rhythmically ambiguous, as if the players were just a few short steps short of mastering its form, whereas they're nearer the target in the dry, even OTT humour that fills the two middle movements. Best by far is the closing Mesto, music filled with profound sadness, a sadness that the quartet members, or the three of them who had been exiled from Europe, will have felt as deeply as the composer himself. Ironically it's the all-British first disc that finds them truly in their element, the Second Quartets of Britten and Tippett, music they seem to connect with intuitively. Both performances are memorably expressive.

La vida es aveces inexplicablemente injusta y deja que una pátina de silencio caiga sobre situaciones o nombres sin aparente razón. Al germano Leo Blech lo conocíamos relativamente y sabíamos de su longevidad (1871-1958), de su solvencia y de su amplia labor cono rector de distintos teatros de ópera antes y después de la Segunda Guerra Mundial. También de su penetración en el análisis de las partituras, de su rigor y meticulosidad. Y teníamos lejana noticia de las calidades del húngaro Julian von Károlyi.

Este disco, de sonido bastante aceptable, proviene de unas tomas de la RIAS de Berlín realizadas durante un concierto celebrado en cl histórico Titania-Palast el 4 de junio de 1950. La “Sinfonia n° 9” de Schubert se afronta de manera amplia, que no ampulosa, sometida a una fIuctuación constante de tempi, curiosa más que caprichosa, que otorga en todo caso vida al discurso, cuajado de detalles y de accidentes amenos e inesperados. Resuelve Blech estupendamente el problema que siempre acecha a la resolución deI comienzo de la obra, ese Andante que vira inopinadamente a Allegro ma non troppo.

No estamos ante una versión a lo Furtwängler, ya que para ello falta grandeza, humanismo, monumentalidad, pero no andamos lejos. Blech es más lírico y grácil. A la segunda escucha nos identificamos con sus criterios en parte oscilantes pero de rara musicalidad. Que son los que sin duda aplica a la interpretación del “Concierto n° 2” de Chopin, en donde la orquesta se une al teclado con presteza y elasticidad, con finura y sentido del canto, lo que propicia una versión muy rica y ajena al énfasis o al edulcoramiento en la que navega gustoso Károlyi, que demuestra ser un artista de primera, con un toque delicado pero muelle, un sonido exquisito y un fraseo natural ceñido al estilo. Un Chopin de alto rango, cristalino y viril. Buena oportunidad, pues, para el reencuentro o según los casos, el encuentro con dos figuras postergadas. ¿Qué mejor manera para rescatarlas del olvido que ésta?

Está bien recuperar el nombre, y de paso la voz, del barítono norteamericano de Kansas Barry McDaniel (1930). Su larga carrera se extendió desde los primeros cincuenta hasta 1999. Cultivó todos los géneros con fortuna. En estos discos se nos da su imagen como liederista de pro que muestra buen entendimiento de lo escrito, respeto a las indicaciones y un lirismo de buena ley, expuesto con una dicción clara, mejor la alemana que la francesa.

Barítono lírico, de emisión igual, extensa –por arriba hasta el la bemol 3 y, por abajo, un estupendamente asentado la 1-, fluente, impulsada por un fiato considerable y una buena administración del aliento. Sin ser bella , la voz posee un atractivo tímbrico de excelente pasta, de esmalte bien trabajado, con ocasionales sonoridades nasales y episódicos reflejos de gola y una cierta veladura general; todo enmarcado en un arte sobrio, de cuidada elaboración y atinada expresión. Es cierto que el canto no ofrece excesiva variedad y que las coloraciones son generalmente uniformes, sin las a veces deseadas matizaciones. Lo apreciamos con nitidez en su versión de La muerte y la doncella de Schubert. Y eso que McDaniel demuestra poseer un buen dominio de medias voces, que son en ocasiones falsetes reforzados. Un buen ejemplo es el extenso y poco conocido lied del propio Schubert Der Winterabend o el de Schumann Kommen und Scheiden. De todos modos, nos gusta el histrionismo con el que sirve Abschied de Wolf.

Nos seduce algo menos el repertorio francés, aunque la Chanson triste de Duparc es muy legal, con mantenimiento desahogado de pasajes agudos. En las partes altas de las Madécasses de Ravel aplica a base de bien la gola. Muy valiente en la segunda, con ascenso al la bemol 3. Tiene excelente acompañamiento instrumental. Los dos pianistas concurrentes, Aribert Reunann y Herta Klust, son buenos; mejor la segunda, una especialista acostumbrada de siempre a colaborar con los mejores.

Prokofiev concerto couplings are two a penny these days yet Franziska Pietsch caused something of a stir with her recent contender (2/18), following it up with an equally impressive disc of solo violin works by Bartok, Prokofiev and Ysaye (12/18).

Here she is back on familiar turf, having made her recent career as a chamber music specialist with such ensembles as the Trio Testore and Trio Lirico. Her new recital colleague, Josu de Solaun, has already undertaken a survey of the complete Enescu piano music for Naxos. A Spanish-born American resident and a multiple prize-winner in his own right, his playing has strength without steeliness and a distinctive warmth and finesse which may or may not be associated with his Shigeru Kawai instrument. Very much an equal partner, he also contributes the booklet notes. Pietsch seems an edgier kind of artist, with the frank emotionalism and potential resort to wide vibrato you might associate with Russian players.

Immaculately pitched in every sense, their Strauss is worth sampling even for those normally resistant to this kind of Romantic fare. Marginally less sympathetic than the sweet and subtle reading from Kyung Wha Chung and Krystian Zimerman, their music-making lacks nothing in intensity or fine detailing and is captured in very lifelike sound in the famous acoustic of the Jesus-Christus-Kirche of Berlin-Dahlem. Some may detect a lack of intimacy, sonic or otherwise; I'd say the score can take it.

In the more ubiquitous Shostakovich the pair are, at least initially, less stoical than David Oistrakh or Oleg Kagan, both with Sviatoslav Richter, injecting light as well as shade without sounding remotely facile. The extremely virtuoso second movement finds Pietsch positively assaulting her strings. The finale is again heartfelt but never too far over the top.

All in all an intriguing offering, even if the startlingly disparate programme won't file easily on the shelves of those of us still in thrall to physical format.

Once read, it's hard to forget, but best to lay aside Reger's claim for his Op 77b String Trio as satisfying the demands of his age for a new Mozart. 'Even more beautiful' it may be than the Flute Serenade with which it shares an opus number, but the trio's least far-fetched claim to cast some flickering shadow of Mozartian lightness of spirit lies in a divertimento-like character most pleasingly heard in a Larghetto which shares the formal, spacious layout and grave beauties of the gardens in Potsdam and the Nymphenburg. The rough, stamping humour of the subsequent Scherzo rather coarsely banishes any lingering illusion of imperial (or Classical) finesse, though the finale makes partial amends with a Haydnesque turn of dialogue and brevity.

If the steam of dumplings still rises from Reger's better-known chamber and orchestral music for some listeners – I'm rather partial to a dish of Griessklösschen myself – then they should find the calorie count more to their taste in the attenuated textures of the string trio, even in the more densely woven lines of Op 141b. The German Trio Lirico do a fine job of sounding more like a sextet, not without some effort caught by the microphones. Rival ensembles on Naxos and Gramola are also audibly taxed – somehow huffing and sighing are grist to the mill of the Regerian aesthetic – but I prefer the ebb and flow of the new recording, the opportunities for contrast and genial dialogue taken wherever they arise, such as in the serenade-like lilt of the first movement's second theme.

The Second Piano Quartet is one of those several works composed after Reger had had a close encounter with a Brahmsian archetype (in this case the C minor Quartet, Op 60), and there is even a furtive tip of the hat to his exemplar at the start of the development section. Here again a sympathetic recording balance is key to the success of the performance, placing Detlev Eisinger's contribution at a discreet distance while making clear that this is a partnership of musical equals.

Celebrated for their performances of the Viennese Classics, the Amadeus Quartet dominated the British chamber music scene for over 40 years and was one of the most respected ensembles of the twentieth century. The Quartet championed the music of their contemporaries, and for the radio they recorded string quartets written by the major English composers of their time, Benjamin Britten and Michael Tippett. The Hungarian composer Mátyás Seiber introduced the Amadeus Quartet to the works of his fellow countryman Béla Bartók. By recording Henry Purcell’s string fantasias, they followed references between Britten and the cradle of English chamber music. For volume IV in the RIAS Amadeus Quartet Recordings series the ensemble plays twentieth century Hungarian andd English works. The Baroque composer Henry Purcell is also represented - as a reference point for Benjamin Britten’s Second String Quartet. This edition substantially broadens the view of the Amadeus Quartet and demonstrates the inquisitiveness and assuredness with which Norbert Brainin and his three colleagues explored the music of their contemporaries. Under the direction of Michael Tippett, a group of young composers, including Mátyás Seiber and Peter Racine Fricker, wrote new string quartets for the Amadeus Quartet. Apart from Michael Tippett, it was first and foremost Benjamin Britten who, around 1950, established his reputation as Britain’s most renowned composer. His Second String Quartet was conceived as a reminiscence of Henry Purcell, a progenitor of English music, for the 250th anniversary of his death. Two of Purcell’s string fantasias and a chaconne, on which Britten had based his work, have therefore been included in this edition, and are released for the first time in the Amadeus Quartet’s interpretation. The Hungarian composer Mátyás Seiber - who, like the members of the Amadeus Quartet, had to emigrate to Britain after the Nazis had seized power in Germany - wrote his Quartetto lirico in the spirit of the Viennese School, particularly that of Alban Berg. He also championed the string quartets of Béla Bartók, whose Fourth and Sixth Quartets are also available for the first time as performances by the Amadeus Quartet. Audite’s excellent series of RIAS Amadeus Quartet Recordings is scheduled to include six volumes, exclusively presenting performances released for the first time on CD. As always, the ensemble’s performances on this two-disc set of recordings from 1950-1956 demonstrate superb musicianship as well as the Amadeus Quartet’s customary warmth and exuberance.

Entre 2003 y 2004, Testament editó tres CDs que incluían grabaciones EMI y Decca realizadas en los años 50 por Christian Ferras (1933-1982) en los albores de su carrera. El lector interesado puede consultar las críticas en los Boletines correspondientes. Audite propone ahora la asombrosa versión que tocaba aquel jovencito, a los 18 años, del Concierto para violín y orquesta de Beethoven. Se trata de una grabación de estudio, realizada en la berlinesa Iglesia de Jesucristo, con la Filarmónica de Berlín y Karl Böhm, nada menos, el 19 de noviembre de 1951, el mismo día en que Ferras lo interpretaba en concierto con los mismos artistas.

Ferras era por entonces la admiración del mundo musical, no solo en Francia. Su paisano y colega Jacques Thibaud afirmó, en síntesis, que poseía tres cualidades, corazón, inteligencia y dedos, que le situaban en lugar de privilegio entre los violinistas de la época, no precisamente escasa en nombres fuera de serie (¿recuerdan? Se llamaban Oistraj, Heifetz, Menuhin, Milstein...). A los 18 años Ferras era ya un artista completo. Su sonido bellísimo, suave, de esmalte precioso y timbre penetrante, engalanado con atractivo vibrato, se plegaba como un guante a un fraseo que era el colmo de la naturalidad y la elegancia, siempre lírico y cantable, que enriquecía con todo tipo de matices dinámicos y de color. Su Beethoven era impecable musicalmente, espontáneo y fascinante, como caído del cielo. Böhm era – apenas hace falta decirlo – una autoridad en la materia y un óptimo colaborador, atento siempre al equilibrio con el solista. De la orquesta no es preciso hablar.

El Allegro inicial camina a tempo moderado, lo que permite al solista extremar la vigilancia sobre la afinación, crítica en este movimiento – en su versión 15 años posterior con Karajan para DG, Ferras tiene problemas, ausentes en 1951. En el Larghetto, la duración de II minutos parece un poco excesiva, aunque el bellísimo canto de Ferras nos transporta a otro mundo en el que el tiempo no parece existir. Muy animado el rondó. Las cadencias son las de Kreisler. En conjunto, una espléndida versión, testimonio de una madurez artística que deja boquiabierto.

El CD se completa con una versión live del Concierto de Alban Berg, favorito del violinista, que lo grabó para EMI en 1963 con Georges Prêtre y del que se conservan, al menos, otras dos interpretaciones en vivo, con Ansermet y con Keilberth (Orfeo, crítica en el Boletín 210). La bellísima obra debió tener una significación especial para Ferras, que se deja el alma cuando la toca. Su excelente colaborador al frente de la RIAS-SO fue Massimo Freccia (1906-2004), interesante director italiano de quien los aficionados veteranos acaso recuerden alguno de sus buenos discos grabados por RCA para la colección que distribuía Selecciones del Reader's Digest. La Wikipedia proporciona amplia información de su polifacética biografía que bien merece conocimiento. Tal vez haya ocasión de comentar en el futuro alguno de sus registros. Como de costumbre en Audite, buen trabajo de reprocesado y muy informativas notas de carpetilla.