One of the first things the Americans did when gaining a foothold in Berlin at...

Da herrscht Verwechslungsgefahr: leicht wirft man den Komponisten Eduard Franck...

It was inevitable that a work of such prodigal mastery and youthful exuberance as Mendelssohn's Octet, Op. 20 would cast a lengthy shadow over most of the composer's remaining chamber works. Nowhere is that more obviously the case than with Mendelssohn's oft-neglected string quartets, none of which has ever toppled the Octet's popularity, and which still find comparatively few outlets in either the recital room or recording studio.

It's gratifying, then, to be able to give an enthusiastic welcome to the first instalment in what should, based on this evidence, comprise a first-rate traversal of Mendelssohn's complete chamber music for strings, played by the Mandelring Quartett on Audite . It already has a critically acclaimed survey of the 15 Shostakovich Quartets to its credit on this label and is more than equal to the task. Having listened again recently to its gauntly implacable, emotionally draining performance of Shostakovich's Eighth String Quartet (reviewed in October 2007), I felt it was interesting to assess its response to Mendelssohn's unimaginably different soundworld, with its associated economies of scale, style and musical vocabulary.

The survey opens with the early Quartet in E flat major, written in 1823, the composer's fourteenth year, and thus pre-dating the Octet by some two years. Issued posthumously in 1879, it was therefore never ascribed an opus number. Though essentially a student exercise, albeit one displaying remarkable technical competence, it is inferior to the other works heard here, the Op. 12 Quartet (in the same key) and the A minor Quartet, Op. 13, both of which occasionally eclipse their Classical models in their maturity and conviction. The Mandelring Quartett's captivating account of this early essay is well played throughout, though, with tightly sprung rhythms and an easy carefree manner which evinces the youthful buoyancy of the music to pleasing effect. There are some engaging touches in the lightIy handled, plaintive Adagio, with the concluding Fugue also brought to Iife vividly and affirmatively.

The A minor Quartet is perhaps even more extraordinary than the Octet, for its unexpected seriousness and depth reveals the young Mendelssohn's creative maturity and also reveals that at 18, he had already acquired a working appreciation of Beethoven's late quartets. Writing in 1827, the year of Beethoven's death, and shortly after the publication of the late quartets (1826), Mendelssohn did not, to quote Michael Struck-Schloen's insert note, 'feel paralysed but inspired by this paragon … his quartet in A minor is one of the first ever creative reactions to Beethoven's later style'.

This is a severe, impulsive and impassioned performance, immaculate in phrasing, ensemble and unanimity of purpose, and certainly among the best I've yet encountered on disc. Both outer movements, with their unsettled and stormy faster sections, are instantly suggestive of Beethoven, notably in the first violin's tremolo-accompanied recitative at the start of the finale, though it should be remembered, too, that much as the finale of Beethoven's Op. 135 attempted to resolve the question 'Muss es sein?' ('Must it be?'), so Mendelssohn also integrates into Op. 13 a fragment from his earlier song 'Ist es wahr?' ('Is it true?'), Op. 9 No. I. The Mandelring Quartett plays the A minor Quartet with unconstrained Beethovenian grandeur and severity, at once darker, stormier and more furiously insistent than the rival Emerson Quartet account, always so beautifully nuanced and fresh-minted that one felt it would be hard to beat, though in all save the puckish third-movement Intermezzo, it is the Mandelring's more palpably urgent approach that wins hands down.

No less assured and convincing, however, in Op. 13 is the excellent Henschel Quartet, which plays with equally committed intensity in the outer movements and gives a memorably eloquent performance of the heart-easing Adagio, too. However, Arte Nova's unflattering recording sounds congested and closely focused beside the spaciousness, clinical clarity and wider dynamic range of Audite's new SACD engineering. The performance of the Quartet in E flat, Op. 12 completes this new release in similarly assured and vigorous style, with the finale (a typically Mendelssohnian fleet-of-foot Allegro vivace) played with striking élan and brilliance.

Some might argue in favour of his String Quartet No. 1, and others for the string sextet Souvenir de Florence. For me, however, Tchaikovsky's most lovable chamber work is his Piano Trio, a work composed during the winter of 1881-82 'in memory of a great artist'. The great artist in question was Nikolai Rubinstein, who had died the previous March in Paris of tuberculosis. It was Rubinstein, of course, who savaged Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 when the composer played it for him late in 1874, causing a major falling out between the two. Tchaikovsky apparently forgave him, although it would be difficult to say that he forgot.

Another factor which might make the Piano Trio an unlikely work, in some ways, was the composer's antipathy for this combination of instruments. The booklet note quotes his letter to Nadezhda von Meck in which he claimed that it was 'an agony' for him to hear a piano trio, owing to the perceived 'artificiality' of balancing two string instruments against a piano. 'I had to impart a bit of violence on myself', he later wrote, 'in order to become used to an ensemble of instruments which my ears dislike.' I abhor violence, yet I am glad that Tchaikovsky was able to effect this change in his perception!

The Piano Trio has been lucky on disc. Two approaches have been taken to recording it. One is to assemble a great pianist, a great violinist and a great cellist, whether or not they have performed together extensively, and let them at it. The most famous example of this is the so-called 'Million Dollar Trio' of Arthur Rubinstein, Jascha Heifetz and Gregor Piatigorsky. This is an ensemble that looks great on paper, and the performance has many fine moments, although most of those moments are not the result of interaction between the musicians. Boris Berezovsky, Vadim Repin and Dmitry Yablonsky are more successful because they are more like-minded, and their reading throbs with a dark passion.

The other and more obvious approach is the one taken here – that is, to have an established piano trio play the work. The Swiss Piano Trio was formed in 1998, won major chamber music awards in 2003 and 2005, and has made several recordings, including Mendelssohn and Schumann SACDs for Audite (reviewed in May and July / August 2011). This ensemble received 'important artistic impulses' (the booklet's phrase, not mine!) from the granddaddy of all modern-day string trios, the Beaux Arts Trio, whose members were no strangers to this work. (Their 1970 recording, in many ways a keeper, unfortunately is disqualified by the decision to omit Variation VIII (Fuga) in the second movement.)

I know it will seem Iike damning with faint praise, but the present disc will probably appeal most to those who want to have Tchaikovsky's Piano Trio on a fine-sounding, well-balanced SACD. (It is not quite the only SACD of this work, but I have not heard the competition.) This is a goodish reading in which nothing goes terribly wrong, but not enough goes terrifically right to make it memorable. There's undeniable rapport among the three musicians and no sense of grandstanding. The work is played with dignity, although one could argue that some of its great moments are almost thrown away. I'm thinking of the moment near the end of the second movement when Tchaikovsky brings back the opening theme of the first. This can be devastating, but the Swiss Piano Trio remains dry-eyed. The closing funeral march can leave the listener feeling empty inside, much Iike the end of the Sixth Symphony, but again the musicians retreat from the cliff's edge. If you want to be wrecked by this music (and most of the time I do), the aforementioned Erato disc is the way to go.

I have some other reservations. At just over 50 minutes, this is quite a slow reading. The Erato performance is a full ten minutes faster, and the 'Million Dollar Trio' is just a tad slower than that. On this disc, some of the tempos drag. For example, the statement of the second movement's theme is marked Andante con moto, but con moto appears to have disappeared from the Swiss musicians' scores! Also, there's some wooden phrasing and a lack of general flexibility that make the music seem not only less dramatic but also less charming. Again, this could still be enjoyable in a concert hall, but not over and over again. I will keep this disc, but mostIy because I am fixated on Tchaikovsky's Piano Trio!

This is an ideal recording. The right instruments (2 cornetti, 2 violins, s6 sackbuts, 4 organs & 2 violones in G), eight voices (SSTTTTBB), plausible scorings, stylistic awareness. The programme is neat: vocal pieces by Schütz alternating with canzonas and sonatas by Giovanni Gabrieli.(1) The low sounds are magnificent, the tempi suitable, the music apparently speaking for itself. I wonder, though, whether there are still vestiges of the early early-music tendency to phrase by the bar and to sing and play just a touch too detached. To take track 2, the first 1597 canzona, the long-short-short opening was, by then, such a cliché so shouldn't the first three notes lead through a little to the more interesting new note? And I was puzzled by the almost jlly singing of the repeated "Saul"s: a reaction, maybe, against over-expressive performances. I wonder, too, whether cornetts might restrain from embellishing the theme before it has been heard plain: fine with settings of standard tunes, but would one embellish the opening of a Bach fugue? These are quibbles, though: it's a fine recording: enjoy and learn from it. (CB)

Not having SACD available, l've asked a better equipped person (and a cornettist to boot) to comment further

Now I am glad I have an SACD player (and Clifford hasn't!). This disc really shows off the multi-channel feature to great effect, as well as being a fine recording of great performances of some of my favourite music on period instruments in what sounds to me like a splendid venue.

In the vocal pieces (the pieces by Schütz), the recording engineers have captured splendidly the positioning of the choirs in the four corners of the sound space (the dispositions of the choirs handily being laid out in the cover notes). I agree with Clifford that the pace of Saul is slightly too jaunty but, after the initial surprise, it is still highly enjoyable.

In the instrumental pieces (i.e. the Gabrieli), often a choir of sackbuts is described as being positioned "unten in der Kirche"; here their sound is intriguingly non-directional. All told, the multi-channel effect literally adds an extra dimension to the listening experience; if you are a fan of this kind of music, this might be the disc to make it worth investing in an SACD player.
Wayne Plummer
The founder of the Cappella Murensis, Johannes Strobl, is the director; The Black Cornetts were founded by Gebhard David and Bork-Frithjof Smith (I think I've finally got Frithjof spelt uniformly and correctly in our address books!) Do check http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJq6VmUwysU to see the church, the layout of the choirs and an introductory talk on the recording. (CB)

(1.) Six pieces by each plus one by both: Gabrieli's Lieto godea appears instrumentally in SWV 34, the chiavetti clefs re-notated at sounding pitch down a fifth.

Mit Christian Ferras (1933-1982) sind so viele Aufnahmen von Bergs Violinkonzert...

The American Barry McDaniel inevitably sang in the shadow of Fischer-Dieskau; but this double CD reveals his deeply thoughtful baritone, in superbly accompanied Lieder and mélodie.

No relation to César, Eduard Franck's (1817-93) music has echoes of Mendelssohn, Berlioz and Schumann. Pleasant, well-crafted but hardly earth-shattering, in lively recorded premieres.

Sie könnten kaum entgegengesetzter sein: das Divertimento für Violine und...

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.