[...] The beautifully paced Siegfried Idyll is another gem, again graced by some exceptionally sensitive playing … there’s plenty of interpretation on show here. [...]

[...] their harmonic language is complex and shiftingly chromatic, using Wagnerian leitmotifs to bind structures together. At times, the result comes close to Reger's, though Vierne's writing seems less self-conscious and highly wrought, and Ross ensures that the textures never become opaque or overloaded.

Seeing as Debussy's Piano Preludes have been orchestrated (most notably by Colin Matthews) it was by no means a fanciful project for Carsten Wiebusch to have transcribed them for organ. However, the results are only partially successful.

To some extent, any shortcomings are beyond Wiebusch's control, attributable simply to the very nature of the organ. On the one hand it does not have the fixed, percussive tones of the piano, which means that the fairies of Les Fées sont d'exquises danseuses do not quite flit around as spryly as they might (and although it is rhythmically nimble, the registration could utilise a few more mixtures or mutations to create a more sparkling sonority); nor do the bell-like chords of La Cathedrale come over with the increasing clarity that they might. On the other hand, the effect of the organ's sustained sounds – however quiet – is not the same as the vibrations of pedalled chords, and so Brouillards sounds merely mushy rather than mysteriously nebulous (nor is it clear why Wiebusch draws the detached staccato quavers in the treble register during the section marked 'un peu retenue' into a legato line near the end of this Prelude).

Wiebusch plays the 2010 Klais organ of the Christuskirche in Karlsruhe (an instrument rebuilt from an older organ by the same firm). The church acoustic provides an ideal sonic atmosphere in holding phrases together which, on paper, appear disjointed, for example in Ondine. Wiebusch also uses the Swell shutters astutely to draw a contrast between those passages marked by Debussy 'en dehors' and those which are more prominent in volume. He also creates some beautifully sombre registrations, with just a touch of reediness, for Feuilles mortes, Bruyeres and Canope. Vivid timbres are used in Feux d'Artifice though its climax is a damp squib, consisting simply of spread chords rather than the heaving pairs of chords Debussy notates. Paradoxically, it is perhaps the technical study Les tierces alternées whose registration sounds most authentically 'French', and elsewhere, a more vibrant use of colours would have been welcome. Wiesbusch plays the Suite with rhythmic flexibility, but I might have been inclined to use a more shimmering string sonority for the lustre of Clair de Lune.

Sadly the CD notes do not explain the specific principles which guided Wiebusch in making his transcriptions, nor do they provide a breakdown of registrations.

By now, readers should be somewhat familiar with Eduard Franck (1817–1893), following half-a-dozen or so appearances he has made here on recordings mainly of his chamber works. The Audite label, in particular, though not exclusively, has taken up the dual causes of Eduard and his son Richard with 15 or so discs devoted in large part to the two composers’ chamber music output; and, being the compulsive collector of 19th-century chamber music that I am, I’m proud to say I’ve acquired every last one of them. But there’s more to Eduard Franck than quartets, quintets, sextets, trios, and duo sonatas; among Audite’s offerings have been two violin concertos, a disc of concert overtures, and two symphonies.

This latest release, containing three of Eduard’s piano trios, holds no surprises if you’ve already acquainted yourself with one or another previous Eduard Franck release, but like those that have preceded it, this disc of piano trios does hold in store just as many musical felicities.
I use the word “felicity” with intent; for Eduard studied privately with the “Felix” of Mendelssohn fame, and mostly Mendelssohn is what you get with these three trios. It’s really hard to describe how brimming over this music is with sheer contentment in untroubled, joyful song. The nonstop rippling piano parts are shot through with Mendelssohn’s nimble keyboard work, and even Franck’s melodies are consistently constructed from intervals and phrases that are dead ringers for Mendelssohn’s melodic invention. If you find Felix’s two piano trios irresistible, you will be thrilled to know that Eduard Franck composed at least four piano trios just like them.
In fact, this is Audite’s second volume of Franck’s piano trios. The first (92567), on SACD, contained the trios in E Minor, op. 11, and D Major, op. 58, performed by a different ensemble of players than the Swiss Piano Trio on the current disc, which, for some reason, did not come to me on SACD. Also, be aware that if you purchased the Naxos CD containing Franck’s sonatas for cello and violin, plus the E♭-Major Piano Trio I recommended in 36:5, the trio is duplicated on this Audite disc. No matter, though; it’s worth the one duplication to get the two additional trios included on the present CD.
This is now my third or fourth encounter with the Swiss Piano Trio on record, and each one has elicited from me the highest praise. The ensemble’s recent Audite release on SACD of Clara Schumann’s Piano Trio led me to declare the Swiss Piano Trio one of the top ensembles on today’s stage in 36:6; and in a 35:1 review of Robert Schumann’s piano trios, Steven Ritter declared the Swiss Piano Trio’s Audite SACD an essential recording.
It seems only fitting that the Swiss Piano Trio, having already committed Mendelssohn’s two piano trios to disc on another Audite SACD—to which I gave an urgent recommendation in 34: 6—should now turn its attention to Mendelssohn’s musical Doppelgänger, Eduard Franck. You cannot love 19th-century piano trios in general, and Mendelssohn’s piano trios in particular, and not love these trios by Franck. Considering Franck’s dates, the skewing of his catalog towards chamber works (though he did pen symphonies and orchestral scores), and his strong leaning towards a Mendelssohnian style, he bears comparison, I think, to his very close “French-though-I-prefer-to-be-German” contemporary, Theodor Gouvy (1819–1898).

I just don’t understand why previous Audite releases have been SACDs and this one isn’t. Perhaps there is a parallel SACD version, and I just happened to receive the standard two-channel stereo CD one. Anyway, with the music, performances, and recording being so beguiling, it would be churlish of me to complain. This is a must-buy recommendation.

In 1961, George Szell, who had examined a Photostat of the manuscript, inserted what he called “a pungent dissonance” at bars 109 and 327 of the first movement of Schubert’s “Unfinished” Symphony when he recorded the piece for Epic. It appears in a passage leading to the development section and, later, to the coda. The chord still sounds sour to me and, at the time, it seemed to me that he was “overSzelling” it. A quarter of a century later, Claudio Abbado examined the manuscripts of all the symphonies and discovered that the standard editions differed in some respects from Schubert’s originals and recorded all but what is now the former Seventh, D 729, using the manuscripts as a basis. The differences aren’t radical but you’ll hear some things you may never have heard before. As for the “pungent dissonance,” it was still there on his 1987 recording of the “Unfinished,” but when he had performed it in 1978 with the Vienna Philharmonic, he was still using the standard edition and one hears the familiar chord one grew up with. The first movement repeat was omitted, pretty much standard operation procedure at the time—in fact, I think Szell also left it out. One of my very favorite “Unfinished” recordings is the one in Abbado’s 1986–87 set with the European Chamber Orchestra—in fact, I am extremely fond of the entire set and would recommend it to anyone who wants to purchase a nearly complete collection of the symphonies. This 1978 Vienna recording is, essentially, the same performance as the later one but, perhaps inevitably, slower, darker, and weightier, with a bit less inner detail but with similar flexibility of tempos and dramatic use of slight pauses.
It was too long ago to remember nuances, but I recall having a high opinion of Claudio Abbado’s set of the Beethoven symphonies that he recorded with the Vienna Philharmonic (I also liked the Art Nouveau covers.). Unfortunately, I have heard very little of his subsequent Berlin Philharmonic set so I can’t make any relevant comparisons with this 1988 performance of the Second Symphony with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe, but it’s hard for me to believe that either performance of the Second could be any better. Although the symphony can also be effective when the inner movements are taken a bit slower, I find its energy and crisp detail virtually irresistible. All repeats are taken but the symphony never seems long—if anything, it’s over with too fast. Some people claim that it is with the “Eroica” that we finally hear the “real” Beethoven, but a case can be made for the Second Symphony, and I think Abbado makes it. I’ve never heard one that I admire more than this performance.
The leaves the Siegfried Idyll, a piece that is very difficult to ruin no matter what tempo you choose. I have an impression that conductors of an earlier generation took it faster. Abbado’s, at 19:11, is one of the slower ones, but it’s beautifully played and never sags. I might mention that Abbado himself approved the release of these recordings—as well he should have.

Though the performance on the present disc may be closer in tempos to Abbado’s Vienna account, it has a more buoyant feel and more transparent sound to it, largely due, I think, to the lighter sound and crisper articulation of the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. World-class ensemble that it is, to my ear, the Vienna Philharmonic has always cultivated a mellower, plusher sound which doesn’t “speak” as quickly as does the more sharply defined sound of the Berlin Philharmonic. Between Abbado’s Vienna and Berlin Beethoven cycles, I prefer the later Berlin effort. But this version with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe offers a kind of composite of the Vienna’s slower tempos and the Berlin’s greater clarity.

If it’s Abbado’s Siegfried Idyll you want, this live performance from the 1988 Lucerne Festival may be your only choice. I wouldn’t swear to it, but it doesn’t look like there’s another recording of him leading the piece. Abbado was no stranger to Wagner—he recorded a complete Lohengrin with Siegfried Jerusalem and Cheryl Studer for Deutsche Grammophon, plus several single discs containing vocal numbers and orchestral excerpts from Wagner’s operas, but I don’t find another Siegfried Idyll among them.
This is certainly a worthy addition to Abbado’s recorded legacy, and it’s self-recommending to all fans of this great 20th-century conductor.

[...] these recordings, made by Audite in 2012, only used a 44.1K sampling rate (the same as standard CDs), but with a 24-bit word length instead of the usual 16-bit. This achieved a much improved sonic for the recordings, though not as good as a higher sampling rate might have. My personal preference for pipe organ recordings is a true binaural recording, heard via good headphones, but Audite’s multichannel surround is very good.

Holliger‘s performances draw on a lifetime study of Schumann‘s music, thought, and personality. His approach imparts lightness and lucidity to these scores through a balance of parts, delicately gradated dynamics and invigorating tempos.

This previously unreleased performance, recorded live at the 1962 Lucerne...

Lorengar had a creamy soprano and a distinctive vibrato, which is pleasing to my ears [...]. Her voice is strikingly beautiful and she takes great care to project the text, whether she plays a Druid queen or a shy seamstress.