In keinem europäischen Land hielt sich das ventillose Naturhorn so hartnäckig...

Audite have released a well-produced double-pack of "The 1956 RIAS recordings of Solomon". Most of the items have already appeared on APR (4/95), the contents – Bach's Italian Concerto, Beethoven's Sonatas Nos 3 and 14, Brahms's Intermezzos Op 116 No 4 and Op 118 No 6, the Rhapsody Op 79 No 1, and a Chopin group (the F minor Fantaisie, the First Nocturne and the Second Scherzo). But I'd never heard the recording of Schumann's Carnaval from the same period and was interested to compare it with Solomon's quietly characterful 1952 EMI studio recording (now on Testament, 7/97). As it happens, there's very little to choose between them, save for the brighter, slightly shallower sound on the broadcast. So if you already have the APR and Testament discs, I'm not sure I'd bother.

However, if you've never acquired the 1959 (Philips) coupling of Beethoven's First and Fourth Piano Concertos with Robert Casadesus and the Concertgebouw Orchestra under Eduard van Beinum, Pristine Audio now affords you the opportunity. These are coolly considered, clear-headed performances, fluent, profoundly classical in style and sonically well balanced. In a word, satisfying – and you have the added interest of Casadesus's own cadenzas. Pristine have also released an earlier (mono) Casadesus recording of Falla's Nights in the Gardens of Spain with the New York Philharmonic under Dimitri Mitropoulos, translucent often exciting playing, vividly accompanied. The same all-Falla CD also includes Mitropoulos's highly individual versions of Three Dances from The Three-Cornered Hat and the "Interlude and Dance" from La vida breve. If you want big, "butch" Falla, then Mitropoulos is your man.

And for a vivacious, affectionately phrased Johann Strauss II miscellany you could hardly do better than an Audite disc of early 1950s radio recordings by the RIAS Symphony Orchestra under Ferenc Fricsay. This is Strauss in the tradition of Reiner, Dorati and Szell, disciplined but loving. Shame about a couple of nasty edits in the Kaiser-Walzer – otherwise the sound more or less matches any good commercial recording of the period.

Audite have released a well-produced double-pack of "The 1956 RIAS recordings of Solomon". Most of the items have already appeared on APR (4/95), the contents – Bach's Italian Concerto, Beethoven's Sonatas Nos 3 and 14, Brahms's Intermezzos Op 116 No 4 and Op 118 No 6, the Rhapsody Op 79 No 1, and a Chopin group (the F minor Fantaisie, the First Nocturne and the Second Scherzo). But I'd never heard the recording of Schumann's Carnaval from the same period and was interested to compare it with Solomon's quietly characterful 1952 EMI studio recording (now on Testament, 7/97). As it happens, there's very little to choose between them, save for the brighter, slightly shallower sound on the broadcast. So if you already have the APR and Testament discs, I'm not sure I'd bother.

However, if you've never acquired the 1959 (Philips) coupling of Beethoven's First and Fourth Piano Concertos with Robert Casadesus and the Concertgebouw Orchestra under Eduard van Beinum, Pristine Audio now affords you the opportunity. These are coolly considered, clear-headed performances, fluent, profoundly classical in style and sonically well balanced. In a word, satisfying – and you have the added interest of Casadesus's own cadenzas. Pristine have also released an earlier (mono) Casadesus recording of Falla's Nights in the Gardens of Spain with the New York Philharmonic under Dimitri Mitropoulos, translucent often exciting playing, vividly accompanied. The same all-Falla CD also includes Mitropoulos's highly individual versions of Three Dances from The Three-Cornered Hat and the "Interlude and Dance" from La vida breve. If you want big, "butch" Falla, then Mitropoulos is your man.

And for a vivacious, affectionately phrased Johann Strauss II miscellany you could hardly do better than an Audite disc of early 1950s radio recordings by the RIAS Symphony Orchestra under Ferenc Fricsay. This is Strauss in the tradition of Reiner, Dorati and Szell, disciplined but loving. Shame about a couple of nasty edits in the Kaiser-Walzer – otherwise the sound more or less matches any good commercial recording of the period.

Although Bach gets top billing (being alphabetically top of the class), the most pleasurable highlights are the three delightful pieces by Georg Böhm (1661-1733), who Bach got to know between 1700 and 1702 when he attended school in Lüneberg. As a musician of wide musical tastes – informed, no doubt, by a spell working in Hamburg's opera house – Böhm is remembered best for establishing the chorale partita as a fully fledged musical form. Two examples are recorded here, mostly on the manuals alone, with sparing use of the pedals. Böhm's encouragement of Bach manifested itself in a love of elegant dance forms (Lüneberg being celebrated for its love of all things in the French taste), flowing bass-lines and a willingness to experiment. Although it is usually played on the harpsichord, Böhm's Capriccio in D sounds quite at ease on the organ. Bach's early Prelude and Fugue in D is rattled off in a similarly strong, no-nonsense manner. Where Bach excelled, of course, was in the trio sonata. Martin Neu produces a perfectly poised chorale trio on Herr Jesus Christ. Buxtehude's contributions emphasise how indebted Bach was in matters fugal. In Buxtehude's Passacaglia the Ahrend organ's tuning strains somewhat under full load as Neu climbs the steep summit to the crowning final tierce de Picardie. Although this new Bavarian organ has a modest specification on paper, such is the variety of its timbral beauty that the ear never tires. The documentation, recorded sound and playing are all of the first order.

This is an outgoing performance of Schumann's Piano Quintet, one able to stand its ground among the recordings that topped my survey of the work (12/07). Claire-Marie Le Guay is the dominant personality among these players and clearly leads from the piano; as recorded she is the microphones' centre of attention too. Not that she's unable to play quietly – the first Trio of the Scherzo is exquisitely done – but she's forceful right from the work's arresting opening chords to the final fugal apotheosis and is clearly the motor that propels the performance. The impression is of musicians audibly enjoying the music, especially in the Scherzo's cascading scales and the give-and-take of the opening movement's second subject (the melody that was such an influence on Cole Porter), although perhaps the slow movement is a touch strident, more of a goose-step than a funeral shuffle, and the poor viola struggles to be heard when he gets the main theme in the Agitato episode.

The Piano Quartet, too, comes in a winning performance, even if these players struggle to achieve the Mendelssohnian lightness of touch offered by Martha Argerich and her all-star Lugano line-up. The balance is slightly better here, the strings more audibly separated and better able to penetrate in the occasionally thick textures. In all, this pairing offers Schumaniacs an enjoyable and often compelling hour, and would equally provide an ideal introduction to those wishing to make the acquaintance of these two pinnacles among Schumann's chamber music.

For this showcase of music for trombone and organ, Conant and Schnorr follow the formula of beginning with the old and finishing with the (relatively) new. In a mixed bag of repertoire this rather leaves the best until last. The arrangement of Ives's frivolous Variations on America is a good choice, with a few tasteful glissandi and clever variety of timbre enhancing the comic nature of this piece. Guilmant's Morceau symphonique also excels where the early works perhaps pall with lack of variety, the exception being one of Handel's sonatas for melodic instrument, where Abbie Conant manages to make the melody sparkle.

That Schumann considered Mendelssohn to be a natural successor to Beethoven, and went on to prize his piano trios so ardently, was a strong indication that these works were set to assume a prestigious place in the chamber music repertory. In Schumann's eyes , at least, Mendelssohn's was truly the music of the present, if not the future. Schumann would compose piano trios of his own, of course, albeit rather more brooding and emotionally driven.

Written six years apart, in 1839 and 1845, Mendelssohn's trios are cast in four movements and have a similar duration. Additionally, they are both in minor keys, suggestive of something rather splendid or perhaps even narrative in vein. Wolfgang Rathert, author of the erudite if slightly scholarly notes, reminds us of the especial function of minor keys in Beethoven, as well as in Mozart, and argues that Mendelssohn's particular use of minor tonality holds a mirror to the nineteenth century's increasingly sophisticated tastes. Interestingly, both trios, which in general make rather more of the piano part than of the strings, are radiant and optimistic in their dramatic gestures, not in the least bit introspective or doleful , even in their second movements. This new recording from the Swiss Piano Trio is beautifully presented by Audite, with sharp graphics and a nicely contemporary feel to the fold-out cardboard box.

The Trio in D minor , Op. 49 is confidently captured by the players – a nicely impulsive opening movement with a good sense of lyricism and a clear overview in place. Pianist Martin Lucas Staub drives the impetus assertively with an ambitious tempo, and the strings sustain a robust connection with the music's agitated under current. The individual contributions are strong, although I feel the ensemble's best intentions have not always been fully realized in this region of the recording as regards balance. I'd like a fraction more of the piano when all parts are busy, and indeed when there are short-lived soloistic interjections to enjoy (the opening and closing sections to the Andante con moto tranquillo are good examples of this, too). Conversely, the violin seems to be just a little too forward in the mix, overall, particularly during the more impassioned sections, so that the equally important piano and cello textures come over as a little hemmed in. That said, there are some precious softer moments in the ensemble, both in this movement and in the conclusion to the Scherzo, which is ably done. The finale has good drive and the overall impact improved here quite noticeably – the ensemble seemed to relax , introducing greater ingenuity and freedom into this amiable Schubertian melody. There can be no doubting the youthful verve of these musicians, and the closing stages to this movement are as fiery and effervescent as you could hope for , if perhaps slightly missing some of the opportunities to drop the dynamic before picking up the intensity once again.

The Op. 66 Trio, dedicated to Louis Spohr, is in C minor, and it was in this key that Mendelssohn first explored the idea of a piano trio while still a young man; it emerged as more of an experiment than an accomplished work, however. As I hinted at earlier, the similarities in approach to the formal construction and sense of dramatic destiny in both the published trios are such that Mendelssohn clearly felt satisfied with what he had achieved in his D minor Trio. The Swiss Trio seems more at ease with the elasticity of this slightly later work, grabbing my attention rather more quickly than in the D minor. I particularly enjoy the Andante espressivo, which has a lovely serenity to it and some delightful coupling from the strings. The Scherzo is very successful too , with sterling work from Staub, whose glycerine fingerwork carries the momentum without any hint of compromise; here too, a better sense of balance and of the leggiero lines emerges, and the sudden switches in temperament are very well thought through.

My impression of the playing, and indeed of the recording as a whole, grew quite significantly during my survey of this disc. I would very much like to hear these players in the flesh , where I am sure they are capable of even greater vitality and communication.

The two big composer birthdays of 2010 were Chopin and Schumann. Both were born...

Nach der erfolgreichen Veröffentlichung der Mendelssohn-Klaviertrios legt audite nun das zweite Album mit dem Schweizer Klaviertrio vor. Die SACD präsentiert die Klaviertrios op. 63 und op. 80 von Robert Schumann. 1847 komponiert, stellen die beiden Werke bedeutende Beiträge zur Geschichte des Klaviertrios dar. Die überaus heikle und anspruchsvolle Aufgabe der Interpreten ist es, die reichen Zwischentöne dieser Musik hörbar zu machen, die allgemeine und private, historische und aktuelle Bezüge miteinander verknüpfen und sich dadurch an den Kenner richten.

Die Interpretation des Schweizer Klaviertrios demonstriert, dass es sich bei dieser Musik um Meisterwerke der Kammermusikliteratur des 19. Jahrhunderts handelt, die zu Unrecht nur selten im Konzertsaal erklingen. Das dritte Klaviertrio op. 110 wird zu einem späteren Zeitpunkt zusammen mit den Fantasiestücken op. 88 und dem Klaviertrio op. 17 von Clara Schumann auf einer weiteren SACD veröffentlicht.

Das Schweizer Klaviertrio mit Martin Lucas Staub (Klavier), Angela Golubeva (Violine) und Sébastien Singer (Violoncello) ist Preisträger zahlreicher Wettbewerbe wie z. B. dem Internationalen Kammermusikwettbewerb Caltanissetta oder dem österreichischen Johannes-Brahms-Wettbewerb. Seit seiner Gründung 1998 führte intensive Konzerttätigkeit das Ensemble in mehr als 40 Länder.

Das Trio tritt in Kammermusikkonzerten in den großen Konzertsälen der Musikzentren auf, als Solistenensemble konzertieren die drei Musiker regelmäßig mit renommierten Orchestern. Radio- und Fernsehaufnahmen sowie CD-Einspielungen dokumentieren das künstlerische Schaffen des Ensembles.

The launch of a third new survey of Grieg’s orchestral music in the last decade, following Bjarte Engeset’s for Naxos and Ole Kristian Ruud’s for BIS, starts here (the first volume of a promised five) with the most obvious popular items. But any sense of mere repetition of well-known repertoire in (perhaps) improved recorded sound is challenged immediately by the idea of starting with the four 1898 Symphonic Dances. No 2 aside, the Allegretto grazioso that has become quite a Proms lollipop (and, of course, a Beecham speciality), these are meaty pieces of real orchestral (if not quite symphonic) substance which deserve to be better known. All were orchestrated by Grieg from piano originals, an adventure probably encouraged by the composer’s guest appearances with the Leipzig Gewandhaus and Berlin and Vienna Philharmonics. This tempting of the miniaturist into full orchestral dress – a process also represented here by the Peer Gynt Suites – is especially effective in No 4, the darkest and longest piece.

The young maestro Eivind Aadland is a native of Grieg’s Bergen, steeped through his family in the Norwegian folk-music tradition. An ex-concertmaster of the Bergen Philharmonic, he turned to conducting with appointments with the European Community Chamber Orchestra and the Trondheim Symphony. To the WDR players he has communicated a lightness of touch and a fine Grieg balance in which the winds sing out almost like concertante soloists. But such an approach is not so featherlight that it cannot challenge the famous Beecham/RPO recording (and its stunning viola line) in “Ingrid’s Lament” from Peer Gynt and its ingenious take-over of the pain of the second movement of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. Then, in contrast to the more string-dominated music that precedes it, the Funeral March for Rikard Nordraak at the end of the release has the bracing feel of an open-air band performance. With recording matching the scale of the music-making, Aadland’s new cycle – which, in these works, is more alive than Ruud’s and better played than Engeset’s – has hit the ground running.