Collection Listening Log

[Todd A]

From FFG to another of today's great pianists, Herbert Schuch. Schuch's overall tempo choice is middle of the road, but his playing is not. He opens with a measured and beautiful Moderato, which while not quite as intimate as FFG's, starts introspective before moving to a more outward, ecstatic expression in the climax. Schuch then plays the rest of the section with a lightly joyous sound, letting the music fade away. After a nice pause, he starts in on the lovely Andante, which Schuch presents in a sort of episodic manner, which he also ends by letting the music fade away. Similar to FFG, he starts the Piu sostenuto section with a sound that is more elevated than what came before. The rolled chords are almost impossibly beautiful as he builds up to the climax, and he adopts a notably quicker tempo here, again opting for an ecstatic approach. The right hand runs are flowing, effortless, lovely, ethereal. The last part of the piece is all about heavenly sounding music, but it is different from FFG. It is somehow purer, more innocent, yet exultant. Yeah, this one's pretty darned good, too.

 

[Todd A]

Aldo Ciccolini's Benediction. A middle of the road overall tempo by Ciccolini translates into a fairly direct reading. The Moderato flows nicely, has attractive rolled chords, a reasonably powerful if somewhat metallic climax, and calmer music thereafter. The Andante is a bit rushed and reasonably attractive. The Piu sostenuto is played in a complete straight-forward manner up until the climax, which is dashed off, with the right hand runs reasonably quick and the other music up to the coda nicely done. The piece is well enough executed, but it doesn't really evoke much of anything.

 

[Todd A]

Time for a young lion's take on the Benediction, and that means Behzod Abduraimov. Abduraimov's Moderato is paced perfectly, his touch nuanced in the quietest music. The rolled chords are both lovely and slightly varied, and his independence of hands is such that, more than with most other versions, one almost gets the sense of two different pianists playing. As he builds up to the climax he varies dynamics of different voices and presents everything with superb clarity. Abduraimov then plays the closing music gently, with the subtlest variations in tone and volume, aided by the close microphones. The Andante starts off with comparatively quick phrasing, and Abduraimov tends to play with greater clarity than normal in the section, but it works quite well. He does let the end fade out before starting in on the Piu sostenuto that is gentle and lovely, building up to a potent climax, and followed by delicate, beautiful right hand runs, with Abduraimov again displaying supremely fine clarity of different voices. Here's a pianist with immense virtuosic ability, as demonstrated in his other recorded works, who uses that ability to fine expressive ends. The playing lacks some of the magic of some others, but it is superb all the same.

 

[Todd A]

Amoyel's Benediction. Amoyel's overall timing is on the broad side at 18'23", but the opening of the Moderato has a sense of urgency to it. It's not rushed, but it is not particularly calm. Amoyel does back off a bit a couple minutes in, then he starts to build up to the climax, which sounds searching, yearning, beseeching, with the music through the coda retaining a sense of urgency as well. The playing is very attractive without sounding quite as tonally beautiful as some other versions. It's quite a feat. The Andante is a bit slower and quite lovely, and the transition to the Piu sostenuto is as smooth and flawless as any. Amoyel maintains his overall style as he builds up to a climax that displays a sense of the ecstatic, something he maintains in the right hand runs, which starts more pointed, but quickly shift to an ethereal style, before transitioning to radiant, calm playing all they way through the coda. Just wonderful.

 

[Todd A]

Michel Block's Benediction. I saved the best for last. The overall timing for Block's version is close to Amoyel's, but the Moderato sounds much slower at the start, and the playing is more subdued overall, with even greater tonal and dynamic nuance. Block plays with a sense of devotion and serenity. He takes the religious aspects of the music and the underlying poem very seriously indeed. Block's attention to detail and focus on every single note renders each one significant. Block plays the rolled chords very gently at first, and very firmly as they progress, then speeds up significantly as the climax approaches, playing with a religious ecstasy that sounds very real. The music immediately after sounds almost enlightened, and Block plays with nicely varied dynamics for different voices, adding to the effect. The Andante is not the most flowing or even beautiful of all the versions I listened to, but it is the most elevated. The Piu sostenuto starts off the same way, and just seems to achieve higher heights. Again, the rolled chords start off slow and lovely and speed up, as does Block's playing generally, creating an indelible sense of ecstasy in the climax. The right hand runs after the climax are sort of anti-virtuosic, but they work even better that way. Block saves his best playing for the serene ending, which here rivals late Beethoven for depth. Block stands above and apart from everyone else in this work.

Among mortals, FFG, Schuch, and Amoyel stand out.

(Block's disc is OOP.)

 

[Todd A]

Without really trying, I've managed to collect nine sets of the Brahms Cello Sonatas. To be sure, some were bought very much on purpose - the Sung-Won Yang set, for instance - but others were acquired because they are included in big boxes. Three of my sets are from Pierre Fournier, and all three were acquired this way. Anyway, I do like the pieces, so I figured I should work through my accidental collection.

I decided to start with the newest set for me from Henri Demarquette and Michel Dalberto. This 2008 release from Warner includes the two Cello Sonatas proper, plus a transcription of the Op 78 Violin Sonata. It opens with the Second. The music hits with gale force. Dalberto, a pianist who typically favors a hard-hitting style, bashes the listener's ears with his overpowering Yamaha and Demarquette blasts his 1697 Cappa Cello. The Allegro vivace almost becomes an Allegro feroce. Both players have what it takes to keep everything firmly under control, but this is not a romantic take; this is a War Sonata. Things back off in the Adagio affettuoso, though here Dalberto still manages to thunder. The Allegro passionato and Allegro molto both maintain a very full-blooded approach.

The transcribed Op 78 sounds a bit more relaxed and fluid at times, though loud passages still sound hefty, with Dalberto powering out the loudest passages as well as anyone. I prefer the original version, but this entertains.

The First Sonata finishes the disc. The Allegro non troppo starts off more relaxed and contemplative, and cruises along for a few minutes in such a way, but then the duo belt it out. Here, the effect works a bit better at creating musical contrasts, but it is still very much on the robust side. The Allegretto quasi minuetto is lighter and almost playful in the outer sections and nicely lyrical in the trio. The Allegro ends on a energetic and occasionally forceful note.

The recording, made in the excellent sounding Metz Arsenal, sounds fully modern and a bit unforgiving and perhaps a touch too close.

 

[Todd A]

From the first Vivarte big box comes a "period instrument" performance. Anner Bylsma uses a famous Strad, and Lambert Orkis uses the Steinway that Padereswki used when he toured the States in the early 1890s. Right away, the more distant sound when compared to the Demarquette/Dalberto set - though the sound is not too distant at all - allows for a more realistic sense of dynamic range. In the opening Allegro non troppo of the First, the playing is often pleasantly relaxed in comparison to the earlier recording, though never languid, and the duo plays with ample strength and passion in the louder passages, without overdoing it. The Allegretto quasi Menuetto has the same more relaxed overall feel about it, while the Allegro is more energetic and forceful.

Some Schumann nestles between the Brahms works, here the Op 102 Stueke im Volkston. The Langsam stands out for its lovely lyricism and lullaby-esque sound, while the rest of the movements are nicely romantic in demeanor, but not over the top. Bylsma never really lets loose, though that's fine.

The Second opens with ample energy and drive, but is less in your face and aggressive than the Demarquette/Dalberto. That written, Lambert Orkis, too, hammers out some of his music, though not to the same extent as He-Man Dalberto. The Adagio affettuoso is again more relaxed overall, the Allegro passionato meets its designation nicely for the most part, and the Allegro molto is dashed off in a hasty, comparatively light 3'31", making for a very truncated end.

Overall, it's a nice enough recording, but I'm glad I got it in a big box for a little over a buck rather than premium price.

 

[Todd A]

Late career Janos Starker paired with Rudolf Buchbinder. In Op 38, Starker gets a bit more love from the microphones, and layers on the vibrato a bit more than Bylsma and Demarquette, but his playing is also more expressive. The duo use rubato effectively and seem in lockstep throughout the Allegro. The Allegretto quasi menuetto is almost quasi-baroque in its rhythmic vitality, though it remains weighty and rich. The Allegro is more vibrant than the Bylsma set, but less intense than the Demarquette set, occupying a more pleasing middle ground.

The same ends up being true of the opening Allegro vivace in the Second, with the duo again using a more pleasing rubato, too. Here, Starker's playing remains full bodied and he likes his vibrato here and there, but Buchbinder becomes more animated and his playing becomes louder and more powerful, at least matching Starker, but his playing lacks the gale force power of Dalberto, which is probably a good thing. In the Adagio, Buchbinder might end up being a bit more prominent than ideal, overpowering Starker's lovely, poignant playing. Both are better matched in the suitably vibrant Allegro passionato, and the duo take just shy of five minutes to deliver a flowing and robust Allegro molto.

The two short Schumann pieces are both very robust and romantic, but Starker's tone sounds less full.

Overall, this set is more "romantic" than the prior two, at least as it pertains to the cello part. Buchbinder seems a bit starker, as it were, throughout.

(Disc is OOP)

 

[Todd A]

I picked this set from regular duo partners Silvia Chiesa and Maurizio Baglini in early 2017 and posted about it in The Italian Invasion thread. Revisiting the set, the fully modern sound is a great benefit. The style and delivery is a more romantic and relaxed version of Demarquette/Dalberto. To be sure, Baglini basically matches Dalberto in terms of scale and power, but it sounds less domineering, and Chiesa plays with some nice verve, even if her partner overpowers her in both outer movements. The Second likewise finds both artists playing with ample strength, but the better judged recording, aided by the beefy bass of the Fazioli, makes the music sound grander in scale rather than just loud or aggressive, though it would be impossible to characterize it as flowery or overly lyrical in the more robust movements, with even the Adagio affettuoso filled with some heavy hitting playing. The Allegro appassionato is superb, with a sort of locomotive style of playing, with Chiesa chugging along with great oomph, while the Allegro molto ends on a potent but not overbearing note. The accompanying Schubert is not the most lyrical take recorded, but it works nicely.

(Disc not available at Amazon UK)

 

[Todd A]

Time for some giants of the past in late career recordings. Artur Rubinstein and Gregor Piatigorsky made many fine recordings together, and these are among them. This is sort of autumnal Brahms, romantic and poetic, smooth and flowing, occasionally weighty and powerful, but younger and newer duos seem to do the power and speed things better. That is not to call into question the playing and music making here. They are superb. Indeed, there's something comfortable about the sound and the approach. For instance, the Allegro vivace of the Second, while large scaled and weighty, just doesn't pack the punch of newer versions, but the two players sound more blended and in tune with one another. Part of the effect comes from the aged recording, which though it sounds very good, just doesn't match up with more recent recordings in key sonic areas. But the chances of me ditching this set are nil, and I will absolutely return to this set again. Rubinstein playing Brahms is a magical musical combo.

 

[Todd A]

The first of three recordings of the sonatas performed by Pierre Fournier. Here his partner is Wilhelm Backhaus. The aged mono sound has far less dynamic range than modern recordings, and when that is combined with Fournier's more restrained and elegant style, with Backhaus partnering him in similar if still distinctive fashion, the overall impression is of autumnal Brahms. In other words, it sounds kind of "Old Fashioned". But that's OK, because this is proper Old Fashioned playing. No ugly sounds, ample expression, superb partnership. The First fares comparatively better, with the second sounding a bit smaller in scale and scope. Or rather, the Second would fare comparatively less well were the playing of the duo not so compelling in every way. I'm a big Fournier fan, and I have no problem stating that, so when he lays the vibrato on thick, I love it, and when the middle and upper registers sing, it enthralls. Backhaus knows his Brahms, too. This is an outstanding recording.
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01MD1W8I0/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

The second Fournier recording, this time with another great pianist, Rudolf Firkusny. The stereo sound surpasses the Backhaus qualitatively, of course. Fournier sounds pretty much the same, with a few minor differences here and there. Firkusny's playing is a bit more classical in style, and less reliant on rubato and other romantic touches than Backhaus. The much wider dynamic range of the piano is evident in that in quiet passages Firkusny can and does fade into the background a bit, but he also overpowers his partner on more occasions, though more in the First than Second, for some reason. While the recording lacks the heft of modern recordings, one can hear more scale and power, though its of an often refined and reserved sort. This is sufficiently different from the Backhaus that I'm glad to have both.

 

[Todd A]

The last of Pierre Fournier's recordings, here paired with his son Jean Fonda on piano. The early 80s recording is immediate, full bodied, and clear, with a hard left-right split between the artists, Fournier on the left, Fonda on the right. Fournier was in his late 70s, and his playing, while still sounding rich and refined, doesn't have the same luster as before, and the playing is a bit broader overall. Fonda often overpowers his father in both sonatas, and tends to lead the proceedings more in the second. There's nothing wrong with that, and Fonda plays very nicely, but the set lacks the more appealing back and forth evident in the teaming with Backhaus, and the more formal presentation of the set with Firkusny.

The set also includes a transcription of the First Violin Sonata and the Grieg Cello Sonata, but for this go-round, I stuck with the two Brahms cello sonatas proper.

 

[Todd A]

Now to the point of listening to all the different versions of Brahms' Cello Sonatas: I wanted to listen to every version in my collection to see if this set would end up my favorite or not. It's got good things going for it. Great sound. A world class pianist who makes a world class accompanist. And a world class cellist.

I already knew it was a very fine set. Now I know how fine. Yang's playing is sort of a modern version of Pierre Fournier. His playing is even tighter, even richer, and just as refined, and he has no problem belting out the music in robust but controlled fashion. Enrico Pace has the ease of Backhaus, a richer and more fluid overall sound, and power that, if not as overwhelming as Dalberto, is more than adequate. Think of it as lyrical Buchbinder. The overall sound and style is romantic, but both modern and stylized, as well. One notices all this in the Allegro non troppo of the First, where Yang's cello sings, and Pace's piano, even when grinding out loud passages, maintains a lyrical sound. The duo's combined sound works even better in the Allegretto, and the Allegro is intense and driven, almost as much as Demarquette/Dalberto, but it doesn't go that far and never quite sounds aggressive. Again, in the Second, the duo play with ample power and impact in the Allegro vivace without sounding too hard. They come mighty close, and the effect is exhilarating. The Adagio affettuoso is beautiful, with Yang's cello singing beautifully throughout, and Pace demonstrating a delicate touch in support of the tenderest passages. The Allegro passionato retains the lyricism of the prior movement, but it throws in extra intensity for good measure, and the Allegro molto is perfectly paced (hah!), and in its brief 4'14" mixes lyricism, peppy energy, clarity, sensitivity, and great expression in perfect proportion. Throughout the sonata and the disc, the pair remain more or less equals, and they are always in sync. This is some fine, fine chamber music playing.

Yep, relistening to this set clinches it: the Yang/Pace recording is my first choice. There ain't no way I'll go without Fournier/Backhaus, Piatigorsky/Rubinstein, and even Chiesa/Baglini, for some even more powerful playing.

 

[Todd A]

Papa needs some love, so I figured I'd listen to all the version of the Surprise Symphony in my physical collection, just because.

I decided to start with a young Sergiu Celibidache in charge of the post-war Berlin Philharmonic. Celi opens the work with a slow and lyrical and slightly weighty Adagio and properly switches gears in the Vivace assai, getting ample energy from the band. He opens the Andante theme with lovely, gentle playing, and delivers a nice, loud surprise at the end. The variations are all nicely executed, with the second one stormy, but with a wink, and the final variation loud and boisterous, bordering on the purposely pompous. The Menuetto is a bit heavy and slow-ish (6'00" even) and doesn't display the crispest ensemble, but it's nice. The Finale is very brisk, almost hyped-up, and fun. Overall, it's a very nice version, and a far different type of Haydn than Celi conducted decades later at Munich.

Sound from the ancient recording is better than its vintage implies, sounding on par with mono recordings from a decade later.

 

[Todd A]

Same band, different conductor, different era. Fluffy leads his well oiled machine in an opening Adagio of no little lyrical beauty, and then switches to a somewhat stately but smooth Vivace assai. The sound is string dominated and perhaps too polished, or perhaps not. It's less vital than early Celi, but its corporate precision is admirable, its sleek contours attractive. The Andante starts with a much brisker tempo and tighter execution, drops in volume before the surprise, which is held just that tiny bit, to good effect. The variations are superb, with an intense but not rough second, and the winds in the third variation are just superb. The final variation has plenty of verve and drive, too. The Menuetto does sound like a gigantic dance piece. It does possess a sort of formal mien, though. Fluffy lightens up a bit in the more relaxed Finale, which flows along nicely, and if it has a more a machined sound than something fun and light, it still works.

Yes, Karajan's conducting is slick and the sound somewhat smoothed over, but it is impossible to fault the playing. Sometimes you just want to hear playing that cannot be surpassed.

 

[Todd A]

Some HIP Haydn. Hogwood starts off his 94th with a nicely paced Adagio before switching to a very nicely paced Vivace assai. His forces have enough players to generate nice scale - no anemic sound here - and the energy level is suitably high. The Andante is on the too slow side at 6'33", but it starts off with a nice theme, and the loud surprise is weighty enough. The second variation is kind of tame, though. The period oboes sound nice tart, and the rest of the movement works nicely enough, with the final variation having more of a martial bearing than the second. The Menuetto is vibrant and has a decent but somewhat formal rhythmic sense, like it must be in very strict time. The Finale is played with enough pep and energy to satisfy, though it still sounds a bit formal. It's hard to fault a recording that keeps all excess in abeyance too much.

 

[Todd A]

Adam Fischer's Surprise. He starts off with a slow and somewhat dramatic Adagio, then moves into a swift and weighty yet relaxed Vivace assai. The sound is excellent, but kind of blended, though the string sections are clear in that different masses of strings are evident. The Andante starts off with lovely, nearly perfectly paced playing in the main theme, with the surprise substantially louder, making it sound like a true surprise. Neither the second variation nor the final are stormy or even especially boisterous, but rather vibrant in a well behaved sort of way. The Menuetto has a nice dance-like lilt to it, though it is just a bit heavy, while the Finale sounds buoyant and energetic enough to satisfy. Very nice.

 

[Todd A]

Josef Krips and the Wieners take on the 94th starts with an Adagio that is lyrical but somewhat uneventful and moves to a Vivace assai that has plenty of pep but likewise sounds uneventful. It sounds like a proper dress rehearsal. That's not meant in a disparaging way; this is the Vienna Philharmonic making sure it's ready for a show. The opening theme of the Andante is taken at a very nice tempo, though the pianissimo section before the surprise is not satisfyingly hushed, nor is the surprise very loud or abrupt. This should again be considered in the context of a world class orchestra playing at a world class level. The variations are nice enough until the final one, which is vital and dramatic and fun in proper measure. The leisurely Menuetto is echt-Viennese in style and sound, and the Finale is likewise a bit leisurely, but it also has a certain formal correctness about it. This is not a great performance, but it's one of those recordings that one can just put on and enjoy in the knowledge that the music will sound excellent.

 

[Todd A]

Jochum's 94th. The Adagio that opens the first movement is lovely, subdued, and lengthy. It gives way to a Vivace assai of no little momentum and energy, and even with the lengthy overall timing. The Andante theme that starts the second movement is lovely, with a potent surprise drawn out slightly in manner similar to Karajan's. The broad overall tempo makes the whole movement quite stately in demeanor, which works best in the final variation. The Menuetto is likewise rather stately, but still good fun. Jochum keeps things forward moving and vibrant in the Finale.

This is some proper big-band Haydn. Only the edgy DG sound mars the recording a bit.