Verve und Emotion paaren sich mit technischer Brillanz und makelloser Perfektion. [...] Selten hat in den letzten Jahren Mendelssohns Streichoktett auf (SA)CD vitaler und im positiven Sinne musikalischer geklungen als hier.

Schön lassen die Schwestern regelrechte Klanggemälde entstehen [...]
http://www.nmz.de/online/gummibandartige-perfektion-die-gelungene-debut-cd-der-schwestern-mona-und-rica-bard

Sergiu Celibidache war ein genialer und charismatischer Dirigent, zu dem aber untrennbar die strikte Ablehnung jeglicher technischer Konservierung gehörte, sozusagen als Teil seiner Aura, die er schon zu Lebzeiten hatte.
Das war allerdings nicht immer so: Vom Beginn seiner Dirigenten-Karriere im Nachkriegs-Berlin gibt es reichlich Produktionen und Mitschnitte, die mit den Philharmonikern und dem Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester zwischen 1945 und 1957 entstanden. Audite präsentiert sie jetzt in einer 13 CDs umfassenden Edition.

Isaac Stern was a violinist with more than one string to his bow – if you’ll excuse the pun. He was a multi-talented musician who forged a career as a soloist, chamber musician and teacher, and excelled in all three. Never one to be confined by limiting boundaries, his talents over-spilled into other areas. He sponsored and mentored young violinists, including the likes of Perlman and Zukerman. In 1960, he spearheaded a campaign, together with the philanthropist Jacob Kaplan to save New York’s Carnegie Hall from demolition. Here he demonstrated his great organisational ability, highlighted by his shrewd networking and communication skills. As a friend of politicians and leaders, he was an inspiration behind the America-Israel Foundation which, to this day, provides scholarships for young musicians.

Born in the Ukraine in 1920, his family moved shortly after to the USA, where they settled in San Francisco. Of all his teachers, he credited Naoum Blinder as his most important influence. Whilst Stern specialised in the Classical and Romantic repertoire, he also had an interest in contemporary music, giving premieres of works by William Schuman, Peter Maxwell Davies and Penderecki. As a chamber musician, he established an enduring duo partnership with the pianist Alexander Zakin. He also formed a piano trio with Eugene Istomin (piano) and Leonard Rose (cello). They produced some very fine recordings of works by Beethoven, Schubert, Mendelssohn and Brahms.

The Audite label has just celebrated its fortieth birthday and coinciding with this is releasing, in collaboration with the Swiss Festival authorities, a series of live broadcast recordings from the Lucerne Festival. The aim is to make available some of their vast archive, selecting performances of artistic merit by great concert artists. Most of these are seeing the light of day on CD for the first time. Many will be overjoyed to have these two Stern events, as live representations of the violinist are very sparse in his discography. Also, it is good to hear Stern at his zenith, when he was technically on top form. In later life, his instrumental facility became somewhat hampered by lack of practice due to his multitude of other interests.

He was a regular guest at the Lucerne Festival and appeared ten times between 1948 and 1988, both as soloist and as chamber musician. What we hear on this CD dates from the 1950s; the Bartók from 1956, conducted by Ansermet, and the Tchaikovsky from two years later with the young Maazel, who was making his Lucerne debut at this very concert.

Stern had a particular affinity for the Mendelssohn and Tchaikovsky concertos. Indeed the latter he recorded three times. For my money his 1958 studio recording with Ormandy and the Philadelphia is the most rewarding. The instance featured here is strongly argued and virile, at times gripping and highly charged. Stern is all passion and burnished intensity. The second movement is ravishingly played, with the melancholic and reflective qualities emphasised. In the third movement, he ratchets up the energy, with scintillating élan, rhythmic drive and technical brilliance. Maazel provides admirable support.

The Bartók second was a relative novelty in the 1950s. Composed in 1937-38, and dedicated to the Hungarian violinist Zoltán Székely, it was premiered in Amsterdam the following year with Székely and the Concertgebouw conducted by Mengelberg. Prior to this Stern concert, the Swiss Festival Orchestra had played the concerto with Menuhin in 1947. Again, the conductor was Ansermet. Their relative unfamiliarity with the score manifests itself in some intonation problems with the orchestra, and a premature entry of the harp at the beginning of the second movement. Apparently, Stern’s E string broke at the end of the first movement, but in no way did this throw him off course. This is extremely compelling and satisfying playing.

Stern’s robust and muscular tone is ideal for this concerto. His impulse-type vibrato allows him a range of tonal colour well-suited to a canvas such as this. Similarly, his bow arm enables a powerful sonority. Hwhat we hear is idiomatic, stylistically nuanced and technically secure. Like Menuhin, who has championed this concerto, with several recordings under his belt, Stern’s eloquent, expressive phrasing emphasises the rhapsodic nature of the work. All of these elements are more evident and to the fore than in his studio recording with Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic from 1958, which is in less than ideal sound and balance.

Considering that these performances originate from the mid-1950s, they are in remarkably good sound and form very welcome additions to the violinist’s discography. Norbert Hornig has provided some very enlightening and informative liner-notes. I eagerly await other treasures emanating from this source.

Feingliedrig und filigran, aber auch sehnig gespannt modelliert Holligers grundsätzlich kammermusikalische Herangehensweise mit den WDR-Sinfonikern die thematischen Figuren und ihre Entwicklung.

Höchste Empfehlungsstufe auch für die aus dem Internet ladbaren zeitgenössischen Dokumente und den "Producer's Comment".

Cet enregistrement en studio publié par Audite marque le début de la carrière internationale du violoniste et suit deux concerts qu'il donna à Berlin du concerto Op.61 de Beethoven, à l'invitation de Karl Böhm.

Deux figures légendaires de l'interprétation mahlérienne réunies à l'occasion d'un concert à Munich pour l'oeuvre peut-être la plus intime et douloureuse de Mahler: « Le chant de la terre ».

Ein schönes Piano, ein kraftvolles Forte, ein klangvoller, nicht schneidender Ton in extremen Höhen und eine flinke Zunge – Anne-Catherine Heinzmann besitzt alle Qualitäten, die man für diese klassischen Flötenwerke des 20. Jahrhunderts braucht.

Here’s another release in Audite’s new series of archive performances from the Lucerne Festival. The sources for both performances are original broadcast tapes; the concerts were recorded and transmitted by Schweizer Radio und Fernsehen (SRF) and it must be said straightaway that the sound quality is good and Audite, as they usually do, seem to have made a fine job of the transfer process.

This generously filled disc brings two performances by George Szell, who appeared on several occasions at the festival in Lucerne from 1956; this concert with the Czech Philharmonic was his last appearance there before his death in 1970.

The Brahms First Symphony was central to Szell’s repertoire. According to the very informative notes he programmed it in no fewer than fourteen of his twenty-four seasons in Cleveland. He’d made the first of two commercial recordings of the work with the Cleveland Orchestra in 1957 - a second was to follow in 1966, also in Cleveland. One assumes, therefore, that he knew the score like the back of his hand yet there’s no trace of the routine here. The sostenuto introduction to the first movement has excellent forward momentum, a characteristic sadly lacking in a performance by Simone Young which I reviewed only recently. At this point in the Szell reading I wrote down in my notes ‘purposeful’ and that wasn’t the last time that term was to be written down as this performance unfolded. The main allegro is athletic and muscular. The rhythms are taut - this is pretty lean Brahms – and momentum is maintained even when Szell relaxes with the music. The exposition repeat is not taken; that may be a pity but the conviction and drive of the performance set aside any objections. This is, overall, a powerful and thrusting reading of the movement and, played like this, it makes one wonder why Brahms had such trouble over composing his first symphony; Szell imbues the music with great certainty.

The Andante sostenuto is perhaps a bit less mellow in character than some readings I’ve heard. I think I’d characterise Szell’s way with the music as strong and serious. However, there’s also nobility in his reading, not least when we reach those lovely concluding pages with the horn and violin solos, here expertly delivered. When the finale is reached Szell achieves considerable tension at the start. The horn solo really does sound like an alphorn – perhaps a modest degree of hand-stopping? The big tune is launched with fine momentum and thereafter the music is full of energy and drive – this was another occasion when that word ‘purposeful’ was scribbled down. As the finishing line comes into view Szell really increases the tension – and the drive – bringing this gripping reading to an exciting end.

If anything the Dvořák performance is even finer. This was the last of a series of three concerts given by the Czech Philharmonic on what was their first visit to Lucerne and it appears that this concert – an all-Dvořák programme – was the only one conducted by Szell. Like the Brahms First, this was a symphony with which Szell identified strongly. By the time this Lucerne performance took place he’d recorded the symphony twice and he was to make one more recording of it – his very last – in 1970. This Lucerne performance benefits, therefore, from having a conductor on the podium who was really familiar with the score and directing an orchestra whose members had the music in their blood: it’s a potent combination and, my goodness, does it work!

The performance gets off to a most promising start: that glorious opening melody is warmly sung. Thereafter the lyrical side of the movement comes over excellently but Szell also imparts drive and fire into the performance when it’s required - for example around 7:00. The nostalgic, affectionate Adagio is beautifully done and sounds thoroughly idiomatic. One relishes also the occasions when Dvořák’s writing becomes more passionate and the players respond accordingly. The third movement is an absolute delight, especially the trio. Szell and his players put just the right amount of ‘give’ into the rhythms without ever sacrificing the shape or momentum of the music. I’ve seen the finale described as ‘footloose variations’. That’s not a bad description but there’s nothing footloose about this performance. Szell keeps a tight rein on the proceedings - as you’d expect from this conductor – but the miracle is that he manages to do so in such a way that the music never sounds constrained. Instead the performance has plenty of high spirits and is full of life and colour. The closing pages are very exciting indeed.

What is it about hearing Czech music played by a fine Czech orchestra? Everything sounds just right, not least the orchestral colours and the way the rhythms are inflected. This performance of my favourite Dvořák symphony is a very good example of the Czech accent in Dvořák.

I enjoyed this disc enormously. Neither orchestra is technically flawless but both play extremely well for Szell and the minor blemishes, such as they are, are more than offset by the sense of spirit in both performances. As for Szell, he’s on excellent form here, conducting two excellent and charismatic performances.

I’m delighted that these two performances have been made available on CD. Since the presentation standards are up to Audite’s usual high standards, which enhances the appeal of this release, this disc is a very enticing proposition.