Record of the Year 2021

The end of another year. My CD purchases are becoming rarer as I explore the vast archives on my shelves. But disc of the year? It has to be Sabine Devieilhe singing angelically music by Bach and Handel. Raphaël Pichon and Pygmalion accompany. Glorious singing, glorious music.

Runner up is Elgar's violin concerto, sensitively played by Renaud Capuçon and the LSO. Despite his often blustering exterior, Elgar was a sensitive soul and the playing of his violin concerto should reflect this.

So a duo of French performers for my CDs of the year. Bravo les français!

Bach's Mass in B minor with Otto Klemperer

Christmas Day, and time to celebrate with Bach's Mass in Minor and a bottle of 10 year old Laphroaig whisky. I have always considered the Bach Mass to be one of the three peaks of music. It never fails to move and invigorate me with its sheer level of inspiration and supreme craft. I have seven recorded versions on my shelves, accumulated over the decades. But the one I chose today was the 1967 recording with Otto Klemperer conducting the Philharmonia, with Agnes Giebel, Janet Baker, Nicolai Gedda, Hermann Prey, and Franz Crass.

Klemperer was no old-fashioned traditionalist, but he was steeped in the German idiom of Bach performances. He refused to record the work when Walter Legge was in charge, since Legge insisted on using the full Philharmonia Chorus, whereas Klemperer insisted on a choir of no more than six singers per part in the choir. For this EMI recording, Klemperer used a choir of 48 voices, with the Philharmonia reduced to 50 instrumentalists. Ideal, in my view (and probably also in Bach's who would probably have been appalled at a Joshua Rifkin approach with just a choir of eight for his magnificent music).

In this performance we can admire the clarity of the music – both choral and orchestral. You can hear everything. Particularly memorable is Klemperer's insistence on clear balance, a forward trumpet, and an omnipresent bass part – something many German conductors appeared to favour, including Furtwängler. We can admire the top-quality singing and instrumental playing, together with the recorded quality and the balance. The only thing that jars a little to modern ears is the strong vibrato from the two female soloists; they don't sound like that nowadays when singing Bach, but in the end it's all a question of current fashion. All together, with Otto in charge, this jewel in music's crown receives a truly great performance; my other six recorded versions can stay on the shelves (I ditched Joshua Rifkin's version years ago).

Leila Schayegh surprises and pleases in Bach

There is music where a highly specific sound is indispensable: one thinks of the solitary bassoon in the Handel arias Scherza infida (Ariodante), or Pena tiranna (Amadigi). No getting round it; you have to have a mournful bassoon in those arias. When it comes to a violin strung and played in a “baroque” manner, it is a different matter. No one will persuade me that a “baroque” violin sounds better than a modern strung violin, nor that the baroque instrument adds a je ne sais quoi to the sound and performance of 18^th century music (whatever the current fashion critics may decree). The only thing I will concede is that in a large room or a small hall, a modern violin risks being somewhat over-loud unless played appropriately (I was once nearly deafened at a violin recital in London's Wigmore Hall by a modern violin and violinist playing at full Lamborghini throttle). This is not a factor in recordings, or in off-air listening, of course.

More out of curiosity rather than need (I already have fourteen sets of the six sonatas and partitas for solo violin by J.S. Bach) I bought a new set by a violinist I had never come across: Leila Schayegh, a Swiss woman playing a Guarneri violin “in a baroque manner”. I had never heard a Swiss violinist before, so I decided to buy the set on a whim. It turned out to be an excellent acquisition. Leila has a wonderful sense of dance rhythms, and of light and shade. Technically she is first class, with intelligent playing, and she sounds as if she loves and enjoys the music she is playing (most important in Bach performances). She even ends the ciaccona of the second partita in a way I like: quiet and meditative. And she get the ciaccona under 13 minutes, of which I heartily approve; some violinists really drag it out as if they are playing César Franck. Despite my fourteen alternative complete sets; after a couple of drinks, I might even declare Schayegh to be my favourite of them all.

David Fray and Bach's Goldberg Variations

I have never quite recovered from the shock of settling down to listen to Bach's Cantata BWV 1083 Tilge, Höchster, meine Sünden only to discover it was Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, given an orchestral make-over and some good new Protestant words, by Johann Sebastian. And then to discover the opening Praeludium of the solo violin partita in E major re-purposed as an organ solo in another Bach cantata. And then the first movement of the third Brandenburg concerto used (with added woodwind) as the prelude to another Bach cantata. So much for “authenticity” and bowing before the composer's wishes. Bach never appears to have been too worried as to exactly what forces played his music, and how. “Just feel the music and play it!” he probably told the wide variety of executants during his lifetime. And if a piece of his music pleased him, he re-cycled it in other works and for other instruments. So much for “authentic performance on instruments of the time”.

I have long held the view that the best way to appreciate Bach's music is to play it, and to discover the concealed rhythms and harmonies, although it's now many decades since I held a violin or viola under my chin and played Bach's music. Like Johann Sebastian, I am really not worried how Bach's music is played, and on what instrument (so long as it's not a saxophone, electronic guitar, full modern symphony orchestra, or a harpsichord). Open the music. Learn to play it. Feel the music. Play it.

Which is why I recently enjoyed listening to Beatrice Rana playing Bach's Goldberg Variations: she sat at the piano and did her own thing to the music. And now comes a worthy rival: David Fray sits at the piano and does his own thing to the music. Fray is cooler than Rana, but no less admirable. I now have a real problem when I want to listen to the Goldbergs. I can forget the other 11 versions of the work on my shelves and hum and ha over Rana v Fray. As David Fray has already shown in other Bach recordings, including four violin and keyboard sonatas with Renaud Capuçon; he has an excellent empathy with Bach's music.

Handel's Unsung Heroes

Handel was famous for surrounding himself with star singers, often imported from continental Europe to London. He was equally fussy when it came to star instrumentalists, enlisting and often importing a number of star players. It was an excellent idea for a new CD from Pentatone to concentrate on Handel opera numbers where oboe, bassoon, violin, trumpet or horn play a prominent part. As a lover of Handel's music, I enjoyed “Handel's Unsung Heroes”. The band is La Nuova Musica, and the director David Bates. The various instrumental stars are listed, and the CD includes my all-time favourite Handel aria: Scherza Infida, from Ariodante.

So far, so very good. I scowled a bit at the balance of the various solo singers, however. Lucy Crowe, Christine Rice and Iestyn Davies are recorded close-up and thus appear never to sing below forte, often overshadowing the star instruments that are supposed to be the raison d'être of this well-intentioned CD. Shame, and unusual for Pentatone to get things wrong.

Anton Bruckner and Bernard Haitink

Sorting through my large CD archives I came across a performance of Bruckner's 7^th symphony conducted by Bernard Haitink and played by the Berlin Philharmonic in the Albert Hall in London on 28^th August 2000. It's a magnificent performance of a magnificent symphony, and I had forgotten what a marvellous conductor Bernard Haitink was. With Haitink on the podium, it's just you and Bruckner with no flamboyant intermediary determined to make his mark.

I was an early convert to Bruckner's music, way back in my teens. I have always preferred his music to that of Mahler; they are often paired, having both stemmed from Austria and written nine long symphonies each. But there is a nobility and humanity in Bruckner's music; one does not readily associate nobility and humanity with Gustav Mahler. Listening to Bruckner's 7^th symphony was a thoroughly enjoyable one hour experience. One can understand Thomas Beecham's remark about nine pregnancies and eight miscarriages; anyone in a hurry doesn't need Bruckner. You just need to sit back and bask in the music.

My other pleasant surprise was the excellent sound of the old CD, recorded off-air by me in August 2000. The sumptuous orchestral sound came over well. An enjoyable visit to the archives.

Bach, Handel -- and Sabine Devieilhe

My latest CD purchase could well be dedicated to lovers of the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, Georg Friedrich Händel, and the soprano voice. The contrast between Bach and Handel has always fascinated me; born within six weeks and 180 km of each other, their music is strikingly differentiated on this recent CD from Sabine Devieilhe, with Pygmalion directed by Raphaël Pichon. Bach alternates with Handel, with just one interlude from the band (the Sinfonia from the cantata BWV 199 – which I am sure I once played in my youth arranged as the first movement of a violin concerto).

All 84 minutes of music are first class. The singing is superb (I love Devieilhe's voice), the band plays wonderfully, and the recording (Erato) is first rate. What strikes me is that Bach uses the soprano voice as another instrument; Handel, as a composer attracted to opera and Italian music, revels in the soprano voice. No wonder so many singers love the music of Handel! Bach has you nodding approval; Handel has your foot tapping. Not too many CDs I fall in love with at first listening. But the combination of Bach, Handel, and Devieilhe is completely irresistible. Devieilhe sings mainly in German, with a couple of Handel pieces in Italian and, to my ears, she is excellent. Bach's cantata BWV 51 Jauchzet Gott in allen Landen is a favourite of sopranos. I have it sung by  Emma Kirkby, Christine Schäfer, Carolyn Sampson, Elizabeth Watts, and Maria Stader, some of whom screech a bit; it's a bit tough competing with a trumpet. Sabine does not screech, and the strident trumpet is well balanced.

A sour note to end with? As so often with Warner – an American company – there are glamorous photos of Sabine, but not one picture of the two eminent composers. Probably the Warner production team had never heard of the two “song arrangers”.

Tianwa Yang Superb in Prokofiev Concertos

The Chinese violinist Tianwa Yang is a supremely elegant player, a quality that made her recordings of the complete works for violin of Sarasate, plus the six solo sonatas of Eugène Ysaÿe, so memorable. Her latest recorded venture is the two violin concertos of Sergei Prokofiev, plus Prokofiev's slender sonata for solo violin. Prokofiev's two concertos are very much written for violin and orchestra, with the various sections of the orchestra playing a major part. The two concertos do not have the emotional challenges of a Mozart, Beethoven, Elgar or Shostakovich but they do demand an expert soloist and a good orchestra; they get both here with Tianwa and the Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra. Conductor is Jun Märkl.

The recorded balance is good. The all-important orchestral contribution is well featured. As reproduced on my equipment, the sound overall is good, though Tianwa's violin often sounds steely and harsh in the upper registers, especially when she is playing forte or fortissimo; hardly the fault of Tianwa or Guarneri del Gesù, one suspects. More likely the recording engineers. So: attractive music, a superb soloist, admirable orchestral support. But the harsh sound in the solo violin's upper register does niggle on occasions though, of course, different play-back equipment might modify this.

Three First-Rate Bach Cantatas from John Butt

Just as an alcoholic finds it difficult to resist yet another drink, so I find it difficult not to buy yet another CD of Bach cantatas. My latest fall from grace is a Linn production offering three of Bach's best cantatas: Ich habe genug (BWV 82), Liebster Jesu, mein Verlangen (BWV 32), and the Actus Tragicus (BWV 106). An impressive line-up. The Dunedin Consort is directed by John Butt; the recording is excellent with a clear line to Bach's often intricate ornaments for the accompanying band.

The “chorus” is econo-Bach, with just one to a part. Often this does not matter, but in Bach's elaborate writing in BWV 106 where he contrasts solo voices to the chorus, it's a bit of a pity. One feels that Bach, having put so much effort into the writing, probably hoped for less than an economy production. The bass, Matthew Brook, is to be highly commended for his exemplary diction; one can hear every word, and this is almost comical in the duets between bass and soprano in BWV 32 where the soprano, Joanne Lunn, could be singing in Mongolian for all we can hear. Why do so many sopranos find clear diction such a problem? Véronique Gens, and Maria Callas, were noticeable exceptions when it comes to clear articulation. I was not too enthralled with the alto, Katie Bray but, on the whole, singing and instrumental playing all come off well. A good addition to my 300 or so recordings of Bach cantatas.

Camille Saint-Saëns, Fanny Clamagirand, Vanya Cohen, Naxos

For many, many years now I have been an admirer and supporter of the Naxos recording company. Not for Naxos the fashion of the moment; no releases of music by black women composers of indeterminate sex. Naxos plods on with first-rate artists (who are not necessarily big names), recording music that ought to be recorded and made available. Its booklets are factual and eschew glamorous photos of glamorous artists. Brand managers may sniff, but Naxos has been around for decades where almost all its competitors have fallen by the wayside.

The latest Naxos release to cross my CD player is of the music for violin and piano of Camille Saint-Saëns whose long life (1835-1921) meant he composed reams and reams of tuneful music. The is Volume 3 of the Saint-Saëns works, recorded by Fanny Clamagirand and Vanya Cohen. The duo is hardly a household name but both artists are mightily impressive in this music that is arrangements for violin and piano -- almost all the arrangements by Saint-Saëns himself, except for one by Georges Bizet and the other by Eugène Ysaÿe. There is music to move the soul; there is music to move the spirits. And there is music simply to be listened to and enjoyed. I listened to the nine works on this CD and enjoyed them all, as I did the playing of Fanny Clamagirand and Vanya Cohen and the recording and balancing skills of Naxos. Thank goodness there is some quality left in this wicked world. Given my advancing years and my kilos of CDs on my shelves, I now buy few new CDs, but I always have room for CDs such as this.

Positive Discrimination

Surveying the waiting-to-listen-to CDs on my desk, I note Sueye Park, Alina Ibragimova, Sabine Devieilhe, Fanny Clamagirand, Diana Tishchenko, and Arabella Steinbacher. Not a male in sight! Female musicians appear to have taken over the classical world (apart from baritones and basses). About time some men appeared; maybe “positive discrimination” (an oxymoron if ever there were one) was applied to classical musicians -- particularly to concert violinists.

The Violin Concertos of Camille Saint-Saëns. And Fanny Clamagirand

Prompted by a remark by a friend, I took down my CD of the three violin concertos by Camille Saint-Saëns, played by the French violinist Fanny Clamagirand. I have always had a soft spot for the music of Saint-Saëns, with the second violin concerto being a particular favourite. I first got to know the concerto in a recording by Ivry Gitlis, where the beautiful andante espressivo second movement was subjected to a highly inappropriate vibrato, phrasing and portamenti that were entirely inappropriate. No such problems with Ms. Clamagirand; her playing in all three concertos is an object lesson in how they should sound. The Naxos CD has the Sinfonia Finlandia conducted by Patrick Gallois. Admirably balanced and recorded; the orchestral parts in the three concertos are not mere accompaniments.

It is difficult to understand the comparative neglect of Saint-Saëns' music. Yes, he wrote volumes of music in his long life and, yes, it is not music that reaches for the spheres (as does not most classical music). But the music is melodic, well-written and makes enjoyable listening. Not many violinists see fit to play the three concertos; the third concerto is the most popular; the second concerto the most enjoyable (unless played by Ivry Gitlis). I have no less than 26 different recordings of the third concerto, played by almost every violinist one can think of. But only three of the second concerto, and seven of the first. Anyway, all praise here to Naxos, and to Fanny Clamagirand.

Leila Josefowicz

I had more or less forgotten about the American violinist, Leila Josefowicz. She was well thought of fifteen or twenty years ago but appears to have faded from my sight. I listened to her recently in two recordings of Shostakovich's A minor violin concerto, both with the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sakari Oramo. The January 2006 recording was in a studio; a good recording at a somewhat low level of recorded sound. The second was an off-air recording in July the same year at the Proms in London. The two serve as an excellent summary of the advantages and disadvantages of live versus studio recordings. The studio performance is excellent, though perhaps not completely three star. The live recording has an extra dose of woompf and adrenalin from both soloist and orchestra that moves it into a higher class. The live recording comes off well, but is severely marred by audience coughs and sneezes and, in the long cadenza (that Josefowicz plays wonderfully) by the constant sound of a foot tapping on the platform; presumably Josefowicz's tiny foot, since it doesn't sound like Oramo's. In both recordings, I like the players' tempo for the brooding moderato opening movement; Josefowicz and Oramo take 11 minutes, whereas Alina Ibragimova in a recently admired recording takes 12.5 minutes. As every schoolboy knows, moderatos need to be kept moving.

Josefowicz appears to have faded from view (at least, from my view). My impression is that she had joined the band of would-be pop violinists who are also entertainment personalities attracting higher earnings. Pop and classical do not really mix, and those trying to bridge the two worlds end up being great successes in neither. For violinists, one thinks of Nigel Kennedy, Gilles Apap, Nemanja Radulovic, and Pavel Sporcl; all excellent violinists who aspired to be cross-over artists.

The violin concertos of Friedrich Gernsheim

I have been listening to two violin concertos by Friedrich Gernsheim. Yes, the famous Friedrich Gernsheim, born in Germany in 1839, died in 1916 and a friend of Brahms, Joachim, Rossini and Max Bruch. Like the fifteen (!) violin concertos of Louis Spohr, or seven of Henri Vieuxtemps, these concertos belong to the lost legions of 18^th and 19^th century music. The works are not earth-shaking or mind-blowing; they inhabit a safe sound world of the Romantic era, a sound world similar to that of Max Bruch. Not all music can reach the heights of Bach's Mass in B minor, or the late Beethoven string quartets, but so much thoroughly enjoyable music of the past is just never heard. The two concertos here (the first and the second) demand a lot of work from the violin soloist, and a degree of virtuosity. On my CD they are played by a highly competent Linus Roth, with the Hamburg Symphony Orchestra conducted by Johannes Zurl.

The CD came from the company CPO (that also gave us a box of the fifteen Spohr concertos). Naxos is not the only company that is good for exhumations. A reminder that recorded media are invaluable when it comes to re-discovering long-lost music (the soprano Simone Kermes did similar valuable service recently in bringing to our attention the music of Johann Adolf Hasse -- 1699-1783). 

 

Guillaume Lekeu's Sonata for Violin & Piano

Guillaume Lekeu died of typhoid fever in 1894 the day after his 24^th birthday. He was one of a line of distinguished Franco-Belgian composers that includes César Franck, Eugène Ysaÿe, Henri Vieuxtemps and Albéric Magnard. Given his early death, he left a surprisingly rich quantity of chamber music, the best known of which is his sonata for violin and piano composed in 1892-3, the year before his death. The sonata is a work for which I have always had a soft spot, starting with a recording by Menuhin and his sister recorded in 1938. Despite the sonata's quality, it features rarely on concert programmes or recordings by prominent violinists. Even the excellent recording by Alina Ibragimova and Cédric Tiberghien titles the CD “Ravel Complete Music for Violin and Piano” plus the Lekeu Sonata.

The sonata is a substantial work, playing for around 34 minutes with three movements of around 10 minutes each. Much of the work is suffused with a gentle fin de siècle melancholy, like much of Lekeu's music. Almost as if he had a premonition of his early death. The second movement, in particular, is one of the most beautiful in all violin and piano sonata movements. I listened to the work today in the recording by Ibragimova, one of my favourites amongst modern violinists and equally at home in Bach, Shostakovich ... or Lekeu. She did not disappoint here; Russian by birth she may be, but she entered the world of the Lekeu sonata with an entirely convincing sound and impeccable style.

Handel's Rodelinda, with Lucy Crowe and Iestyn Davies

A generous friend sent me a new recording of Handel's Rodelinda by Harry Bicket and the English Consort. As usual with 18^th century operas, I sit back and enjoy the music, the singing, and the instrumental playing. Just add in the recording quality, and balance. The “plot” passes happily by me. This Rodelinda has an all-English cast, due mainly to Covid restrictions on travel. The two principals are Lucy Crowe, and Iestyn Davies. Ms Crowe has a wonderful soprano voice, and one never winces, even in high and coloratura passages. Like so many sopranos, her diction is sometimes a little woolly; she should listen to Maria Callas or, on this recording, to Iestyn Davies who, although a counter tenor, has excellent Italian diction and, for a counter tenor, an attractive voice. He even overcomes my suspicions about counter tenors. The duet io t'abbraccio between Davies and Crowe comes off well, with the voices and band perfectly balanced by the engineers. The cast of six singers does not, for me, have even one less than acceptable.

In three acts, each of around one hour, Rodelinda is one of Handel's most attractive operas, featuring many superb arias. Georg Friedrich knew how to please the opera-going crowd of that time and the delight has lasted over two hundred years. I never become tired of Handel, and he has a knack of always lifting my mood. The current recording by the Linn company is very good, despite everyone having to be two metres apart throughout. If I had to nit-pick, I'd say the voices are just a little too far forward from the band. But that may also be a question of taste. Handel is a lucky man in the 21^st century. And I am a lucky man to have a friend who supplied me with another Handel opera for my birthday. 

 

In Praise of Emil Gilels

I had forgotten what a superb pianist Emil Gilels was, especially in Beethoven and Brahms. A “star” of the period 1950-84, he was a modest virtuoso who kept a relatively low profile, recorded during his later years mainly for Deutsche Grammophon and, as far as I know, toured infrequently outside Russia. In Moscow he made some superb recordings with Kogan and Rostropovich. Dragged round innumerable charity shops by one of my granddaughters a few days ago, I chanced on Volume 1 of his recording of the complete Beethoven piano sonatas. Five CDs. OK, the first CD was missing, so I only had four. But at 50p (around 60 centimes) for the four, I was not complaining. Gilel's playing is just so right. On the four CDs I received, he plays the sonatas 4-15 missing out number 9, for some reason. The recordings were made over the period 1974-84. One just sits back and listens, and admires the pianism.

 

Linus Roth and Virtuoso Dances

Dance rhythms are at the heart of much Western music, classical, folk, and popular. A new CD by the German violinist Linus Roth is titled Virtuoso Dances and promises seven different pieces of music with a strong dance element. Bela Bartok and Igor Stravinsky do not rank high on my favourite composer list. For Bartok, I nevertheless like his Six Romanian Dances for violin and piano, plus his Concerto for Orchestra, and for Stravinsky, his ballets Firebird, Petrouchka, and the Divertimento for violin and piano. The Romanian Dances, and the Divertimento are both on this CD.

Four of Brahms' Hungarian Dances are well played. Antonio Bazzini's La Ronde des Lutins is only worth playing if the violinist is a real virtuoso and never struggles; Roth's playing here is exemplary. I didn't think much of Astor Piazzolla's Le grand tango. Wieniawski's ever-green Polonaise de concert is given a rousing rendition by Roth, and the CD ends with Karol Szymanowski's Notturno et Tarantella.

I have come across the playing of Linus Roth only fleetingly in the past. This CD impresses both with the choice of repertoire, and the violin playing. Roth's borrowed “Dancla” Strad of 1703 sounds a fine instrument. A successful CD.

Note: On my copy of the CD, Track 7 (the Sinfonia of Stravinsky's Divertimento) kept replaying; it was only after the third time round that I realised what was happening. Sort of “play it again, Sam”, over and over again.

Leif Ove Andsnes plays Mozart

I am always suspicious of musicians who are famous for being famous. They probably have superb PR representation and connections. Or they appear frequently on public television. I have the impression that little-known artists are often superior to their better-known colleagues. There are exceptions, of course: Yuja Wang is a publicity hound, but compensates by being an extraordinarily good pianist.

No one could accuse the Norwegian pianist Leif Ove Andsnes of being a publicity hound. He is, however, a really excellent and musical pianist. I am currently listening to his playing in three Mozart piano concertos, plus a few other works all composed in 1785. He is partnered with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra that he also conducts. The Mozart piano concertos do not normally need a separate, eminent conductor (unless the pianist and orchestra are pretty inexperienced). Andsnes is an excellent pianist for Mozart; like Clara Haskil, he understands well that Mozart requires playing that combines elegance, sophistication, and simplicity. Here he plays three piano concertos: numbers 20, 21 and 22. The two CD set is well balanced and well recorded. To complete the set for 1785, Andsnes plays the C minor fantasia K 475, conducts the band in the Meistermusik K 477, and combines with colleagues in the G minor piano quartet K 478.

Mozart's piano concertos were, of course, written for Mozart himself to perform. It is a great pity that, after the early K 219, he wrote no violin concertos, but we do have 27 piano concertos to compensate, many of them from his prime years after juvenile excursions. In the piano concertos, the orchestral part is mainly that of a back-up group, with no intention for a partnership. The 22^nd piano concerto (like the 26^th) is not one of Mozart's greatest creations, and the G minor piano quartet is dominated by Mozart the star at the piano, with the violin, viola and cello just providing support from time to time. This comes out in this recording, but it's Mozart wish, not that of the balance engineers

 

Akiko Suwanai: Moscow 1990

As a life-long lover of the violin, and of violin playing, I have 44 recordings of Paganini's first violin concerto in D major. Pretty well every eminent violinist has recorded the work, and many of the recordings are first rate. My all-time favourite, however, is that by the Japanese violinist Akiko Suwanai, winning the 1990 Tchaikovsky competition in Moscow and taking first prize at the age of 18. The live performance is conducted by Pavel Kogan himself an eminent violinist, and son of Leonid Kogan who made a highly distinguished recording of the Paganini as did Leonid's pupil, Viktoria Mullova. The audience is pretty quiet and enraptured but, for once, I don't mind the wild applause at the end of the work. Paganini and I join in the cheers.

I usually frown at over-long cadenzas, but I don't mind the uncut Sauret first movement one here, because it's just so interesting to listen to Suwanai's playing, some full 31 years ago. Throughout the work, she plays beautifully and with devastating accuracy, even in passages where Paganini demands legato playing of a melody in double-stopped harmonics, a challenge where even the best violinists can make occasional fluffs. Suwanai excels in bravura where bravura is required; she excels in melting sentimentality where sentimentality is required. The work is given uncut, fortunately. I am annoyed when performers such as Michael Rabin cut whole passages in the work. Very rare that out of 44 different recordings I will opt for a personal “best”. But that is the case here. Bravo Akiko.

Alina Ibragimova impresses in Paganini

Pretty well everyone who records the 24 capricci by Paganini takes 75-79 minutes. Alina Ibragimova takes over 104 minutes and no, she does not noticeably play more slowly than the others, but she does repeat much of the music many times over, and some of the caprices — such as the fourth— go on for over nine minutes. Too long, for familiar material, often invoking thoughts of “oh no, not again!”

Ibragimova has a superb technique, and a wonderful sense of intonation, noticeable in the many passages where Paganini writes the music to be played in octaves. She is an intensely musical violinist, and she brings out the best of Paganini's music in the capricci. I just wish she didn't repeat so much of the material so often. The recording is good, though if you want to enjoy the lovely pianissimo playing on these CDs you will need occasionally to put up with some rather raucous fortissimo passages. The dynamic range is rather wide and occasionally taxes my faithful Sennheiser headphones. The sixth caprice has some lovely pianissimo playing; it's a caprice I could never imagine being able to play beyond the first bar, but it's wonderful in Ibragimova's hands.

The older generation of violinists rarely ventured into the caprices on record, and then only usually with a piano plunking uselessly away. So little or nothing from Kreisler, Heifetz, Oistrakh or Milstein. The first recording of the complete 24 was by Ruggiero Ricci in 1949. Nowadays there are plenty of sets on offer, including those by Sueye Park, James Ehnes, Augustin Hadelich, Rudolf Koelman, Michael Rabin, Itzhak Perlman, Leonidas Kavakos, Ning Feng, and Thomas Zehetmair. Tianwa Yang recorded the complete 24 when she was thirteen years old!

One does not normally think of Ibragimova in the Paganini-Sarasate repertoire; she is usually a violinist for the more serious repertoire. But in the capricci she shows that she has a real virtuoso side to her. A pity about all the repetitious material; when I come back to the set – as I will – it will be with a frequent use of the skip-to-the-next-track button on my remote control when a passage comes up for the sixth time round. If this is your first encounter with the 24, you may find this recording quite entrancing. If, like me, it's the 100^th time you hear these works, you may well find the amount of repetition annoying. Whatever. The performances are superb.

Magnificent Bach from Augustin Hadelich

I have fifteen different sets of Bach's six sonatas and partitas for solo violin, including versions by such stellar violinists as Heifetz, Grumiaux, Milstein, Ibragimova and Weithaas. Why I bought yet another set I don't know, except the violinist is Augustin Hadelich, a violinist who greatly impressed me with the one CD I have of his playing. His playing reminds me of Heifetz: technically effortless, and with a warm, sophisticated sound. Some of the prestissimo playing in these Bach works is nothing short of breathtaking -- try the double of the Corrente in the B minor partita, or the whirlwind finale of the C major sonata. The fugues positively dance along, helped by swift tempi and light bowing. Throughout the set, Hadelich combines light bowing with the appropriate degree of fantasy and varied dynamics.

The chaconne from the D minor partita is a lesson by both Bach and Hadelich as to just how varied and interesting the sound of a violin can be. The performance style of these works has come a long way in the past 60 or so years, and modern violinists such as Hadelich -- who is no “baroque” player -- have learned a lot from the past experiments by the baroqueux. There is now more consciousness of lightness of touch, of permitted fantasy, of varied dynamics, of the fact that popular dance rhythms underlie so much of this music, whether explicitly as in “gavotte”, “bourée”, “sarabande” etc. or implicitly. Hadelich is a long way from 1960s violinists such as Johanna Martzy or Alfredo Campoli, followed by Sigiswald Kuijken and the baroque crowd.

Hadelich plays on a del Gesù violin previously owned by Henryk Szeryng. It sounds superb in Hadelich's hands and he is given an excellent recording: not too close, not too far away, not too much reverberation to muddle the sound. Notwithstanding all the other great violinists who have recorded these works over the decades, I know that whenever in future I want to listen to one of Bach's sonatas and partitas for solo violin, it will be the Hadelich version I take off the shelf. I can give no higher praise. He has technique to spare, coupled with imagination, taste and musicality. I hope he does not record too many more CDs, since I am running out of shelving space, years to live, and money to buy.

Bach's St. Matthew Passion

It being Easter, I cooked myself a leg of lamb, and listened to Bach's St Matthew Passion. There are worse ways of celebrating an Easter weekend in England. Except I over-cooked the lamb. When it comes to recordings of the Matthew Passion, I have Herreweghe (1994, and 2008), Klemperer (1961), Richter (1958), Harnoncourt (2000). For my Easter listening this year, I selected the 2008 recording by Philippe Herreweghe. Bach's music does not demand a demonic maestro in charge. It needs someone to set the tempi, to adjust the balance, to control the dynamics, to maintain the flow of the music. It needs good vocal soloists, and good instrumentalists. In the era of recording technology, we can also add recorded balance and overall recording expertise. I listened happily to the Herreweghe recording.

The hero of the day was Johann Sebastian Bach. The St. Matthew Passion is one of the highest peaks of all western classical music, along with the Mass in B minor. At times in his cantatas, Bach would appear to be composing by numbers (but to a very high standard). Not with the St. Matthew Passion; this is Bach putting all his immense skill and genius into nearly three solid hours of great music. From the initial Kommt, ihr Töchter, helft mir klagen, until the final Wir setzen uns mit Tränen nieder, we listen in enthralled amazement.

Casts on rival recordings include Christoph Prégardien, Bernarda Fink, Christiane Schäfer, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Christa Ludwig, Ernst Haefliger, and Irmgard Seefried. Herreweghe II has a good cast, including Ian Bostridge, Andreas Scholl, Werner Güra, and Dietrich Henschel. No quibbles about that. My equipment allows me to adjust the volume at the press of a button. If I had a speed button, I'd occasionally press it for minus 6 percent. That's about the only criticism I can come up with for Herreweghe II. And no criticisms whatsoever for Bach's music.

 

The music of Béla Bartók

Josef Haydn wrote 68 string quartets. Mozart wrote 23, Beethoven 16, Schubert around 20, and Shostakovich 15. I love string quartets and recalled having on my shelf for several decades a double CD album of the six string quartets by Béla Bartók, recorded in 1965 by the Novak Quartet. I took them down out of curiosity, blew off the dust, and settled down.

I have never taken to Bartok's music; I have always found it dessicated and lacking in soul. So it was now with the string quartets; I listened to two of them, then decided I was wasting my life and listening time. One would have thought Bartok would have learned from his extensive folk song collecting that, to appeal to listeners, music needed the occasional theme, motif, melody or tune. None of that here: the quartets meander down the river. There are no landmarks, no memorable sites, nothing to retain in the mind. The six quartets are firmly back on my shelves where my heirs will no doubt discover them sometime in the future. Mr Bartok's music is not for me.

Renaud Capuçon in Elgar

The premier of Edward Elgar's one and only violin concerto took place in 1910, with Elgar conducting Fritz Kreisler and the LSO. Despite its 1910 date, the work is firmly anchored in the 19^th century. Weighing in at around 50 minutes, it can often seem over-long, a feature of so many works at the end of the 19^th century and the beginning of the 20^th. But it contains much genial and affectionate music, and I've always had a soft spot for it.

I bought the new recording with Renaud Capuçon and the LSO, with Simon Rattle conducting, and I am mightily impressed. Capuçon's elegant and sophisticated playing turns out to suit the work like a glove. I've never been an admirer of Rattle, but here he ensures that the violin and orchestra conduct a true dialogue; here the concerto is really a concerto for violin and orchestra. And, to cap it all, the recording (Erato) is extremely fine, with an exemplary balance between orchestra and solo violin. I listened to the recording with my full attention engaged throughout. I've always been an admirer of Capuçon's violin playing, but here he rises to even greater heights in my estimation since he appears to be at one with Elgar's sentimental and long-breathing music. Three stars, and my grateful thanks to all concerned for bringing this concerto to life. In future, whenever I want to listen to Elgar's concerto, this is the first of my twenty-three recordings of the work I will turn to.

The current CD also contains a recording of the late sonata for violin and piano by Elgar, a melancholy work that I must have listened to many times, but rarely remember having done so. Renaud Capuçon is joined by Stephen Hough, and the performance would seem to me to be the best since 1918. All praise to the recording engineers. Balancing a violin and piano for a recording would appear to be difficult; either the violin is recorded too close, with a distant piano, or more often a giant piano too close with a violin almost inaudible when playing pianissimo. Not here. Violin and piano are recorded as equals. The playing is also wonderful, with both musicians entering into the spirit of Elgar's work. I am running out of stars.

Francesca Dego and Paganini's Il Cannone

I bought a recent CD on which Francesca Dego plays an assortment of pieces mainly to hear Paganini's 1743 Guarneri del Gesù “Il Cannone” in action. The violin sounds splendid, as does the playing of the highly talented Ms Dego. Italians somewhat dominated the early 18^th century violin scene, with the Cremona makers, and violinists and composers such as Corelli, Vivaldi, Locatelli et al. The cauldron of eminent violinists later shifted to Central and Eastern Europe -- and is also now strong in China, Korea and Japan. There have been few eminent Italian violinists of late (and even fewer Spanish, for some reason). So I greatly welcome Ms Dego's arrival on the scene.

She plays here a jumble of different music, most of it connected in some vague way with Paganini, though Kreisler's Recitative & Scherzo does not really fit the Paganini mould. Paganini's La Campanella arranged by Kreisler for violin and piano is well played. John Corigliano's Red Violin Caprices is more interesting than I originally feared. Carlo Boccadoro's Come d'autumno did not make an impression on me, and I actively disliked his reworking of the piano accompaniment to Paganini's Cantabile Op 17, a work that should celebrate the cantabile powers of a good violin without the distraction of twirls and thumpings from a piano that strives to rival the violin for interest. Rossini's Una parola a Paganini proved a bit pale and lacking anything of interest.

I didn't dislike Alfred Schnittke's A Paganini as much as I feared I was going to. It is well written for the violin. Karol Szymanowski's reworking of Paganini's caprices 20, 21 and 24 has never appealed to me. When writing for the violin, Paganini knew what he was doing, and Szymanowski's attempt to make the caprices into duo music for violin and piano is somewhat doomed. All those — including Robert Schumann, who should have known better — who attempted to “improve” Paganini's caprices with a piano thumping away, are doomed to failure.

So a CD with interesting bits from time to time. Hardly a great success; there are hundreds of metric tonnes of music of shorter pieces for solo violin, or violin and piano, and Francesca Dego could have made some more interesting choices with music from the 18^th and 19^th centuries.

In Praise of the Treble Clef (and other matters)

In my teen years in the 1950s I had only around 14 LP records; mainly Beethoven, Schubert and Schumann. I played my collection over and over again and, to this day, I find it difficult to go back to many over-familiar works from that period: the Beethoven symphonies and concertos, the symphonies mainly with von Karajan and the Philharmonia, the Beethoven violin concerto with Bronislaw Gimpel mainly because it was on the cheaper Vox label and the LP also contained the F and G major romances for violin and orchestra. I used to play the romances on my violin (Gimpel played them even better than I did).

My father was a professional double bass player all his life. For some reason, I am a thoroughly treble clef person. A big part of my listening is to violinists and sopranos, and my principal reason for compiling this blog is to remind myself of the good things on my shelves to be listened to again. With such a large collection, one can simply forget things that have given great pleasure in the past. I didn't have such problems in my teen years with my collection of just a few LPs.

For sopranos and mezzos I love especially: Simone Kermes, Sabine Devieilhe, Carolyn Sampson, Joyce DiDonato, Véronique Gens, Maria Callas, Sandrine Piau, Diana Damrau. My violin loves are well documented throughout this blog.

And just for this blog: my favourite cuisines (in alphabetical order) are Chinese, French, Indian, Italian, Thai, and Vietnamese. My favourite FRESH foods are crab, Dover sole, lobster, scallops, oysters, whelks, squid, mussels, rump steak, veal chops, duck, spaghetti al ragù, spaghetti alle vongole. All very un-English, I'm afraid.

Bach's Musical Offering, from Bratislava

J.S. Bach's Musikalisches Opfer BWV 1079 is a bit of a strange beast. A collection of canons and fugues on a Ricerar theme, Bach left no order for the pieces, nor any indication of instrumentation. The whole lasts for just under one hour and makes for delightful listening. I listened to it by the Czech group Capella Istropolitana, a small breakaway group from the Czech Philharmonic directed from the cello by Christian Benda with a flute and violin also playing. A harpsichord is listed but, fortunately, rarely seems to be audible. The recording dates from distant 1993 and is still excellent listening. Company is Naxos, of course, and the recording was made in Bratislava. It was in Bratislava, long ago, that I ate in a restaurant offering wild boar in game sauce. Only the menu translated it as “savage pig in wild custard”. I ate the savage pig, none the less.

 

Ning Feng and the Paganini Caprices

I appear to have some eighteen different recordings of the 24 Capricci by Niccolò Paganini. I added a new one by the Chinese violinist, Ning Feng, since I greatly admire his playing. Feng is a top virtuoso on the violin and, of course, the Paganini caprices come out note-perfect. I admired Feng's virtuosity, but also his wide dynamic range and his ability to make the caprices interesting musically, as well as extreme virtuosic. There is a wide dynamic range in both playing and recording. The tricky sixth caprice is whispered as is the first theme of the twentieth. Solo violins can be tricky to record, but the Dutch engineers here have done well, with the violin at an intelligent distance from the recording microphones. So far, so excellent.

My only negative thought with Feng's superb playing is with his violin on this recording. There are some truly excellent modern violins around, but the violin by Samuel Zygmuntowicz (2017) is not one of them. It sounds scrawny at times, and lacks sonority throughout the range, sounding a bit new and unbroken-in, needing another decade or so of daily exercise. Feng might even have done better had he borrowed my violin.

Well, eighteen different recordings of the Capricci is probably quite enough, though if the rumour that Alina Ibragimova is also recording them is true, I might have to stop at nineteen. I recently admired the versions by two more young violinists, Augustin Hadelich, and Sueye Park. Enough is enough!

Bach's "48" with Edwin Fischer

I have just completed a journey of nearly four hours through Bach's 48 Preludes & Fugues. Music that is endlessly fascinating, endlessly varied, and endlessly satisfying. Bach knew what he was doing when he wrote the 48 so they fitted comfortably on four CDs; apart from anything else, this enables the listener to approach the music in four chunks of around one hour each. The 48 do not fit well into live concert performances, which is probably why pianists play just a small selection of the total. The works show Bach's love of fugues, polyphony, counterpoint, and sheer inventiveness. After I had finished listening to the 48^th Prelude and Fugue, my reaction was to cry “More! More!”

My guide throughout the four hours was Edwin Fischer, recorded in 1933-4. A rough calculation shows that in those days, the whole work would have required around 50 sides of 78 rpm disks. Fischer had a lovely touch on the keyboard, and brought a wide range of dynamics to the set. For me, it's an all-time classic for satisfying listening, and I do not contemplate finding a competitive performance.

Nearly 90 years on, the sound of Fischer's playing is still perfectly acceptable in the Naxos transfers I was listening to. Where would we music lovers be without Naxos? Bravo Johann Sebastian Bach, Edwin Fischer, and Naxos!

The Grumiaux Trio in Beethoven and Mozart

“Civilised” is the only appropriate adjective for the latest CD plucked from my archives, where the Grumiaux Trio is recorded at the Schwetzingen Festival in 1966 by the SWR radio station in Stuttgart. The music is eminently civilised: early Beethoven (the string trio opus 9 number 1 by early Beethoven, the duo for violin and viola K 423 by Mozart, and the divertimento K563 by Mozart). Each one of the high points of the 18^th classical tradition.

For me, Arthur Grumiaux was one of the three great violinists of the 20^th century (on the podium with Kreisler and Heifetz). A suave, meticulous violinist with an immaculate virtuoso technique that enabled him to play anything and everything, Grumiaux carried the flame of the Franco-Belgian school of violin playing. Never a constantly-touring virtuoso, Grumiaux travelled little outside Europe and appears to have rejoiced especially in playing chamber music with chosen colleagues.

This current CD comes from SWR Music, distributed by Hänssler Classic. As I have remarked before, Grumiaux live is often even better than Grumiaux in the studio. In the current world, it's a rare and necessary treat to be able to bask in 18^th musical civilisation for an hour or so. Musically, I appear to be stuck for the time being in the 18^th century. There are worse places to be.

Joyce DiDonato, Sandrine Piau, and Handel

I have hundreds of recordings of the music of Handel and Bach. During the current long Covid lockdown, they are a great comfort. They include an immense library of recordings of Handel's music – duets, cantatas, operas, and oratorios, as well as many recordings of excerpts, particularly of opera arias. Ditto a library of Bach recordings, plus many others of 18th-century music (including that of Purcell who died in 1695 at the age of 36). The 18^th century with Bach, Handel, Pergolesi, Vivaldi, the Scarlattis, Rameau, Haydn and Mozart has become, at the moment, my listening period of choice. A pity about all those 19^th and 20th-century composers for the moment, until my tastes change again and the wind swings round to the 19^th century.

Stars of my listening have been Sandrine Piau and Joyce DiDonato. Piau has an angelic voice (although her diction isn't great). DiDonato has a highly dramatic mezzo-soprano voice, with excellent diction. Together they make a fine pair of contrasted listening, even in much of the same music. Is there any more heartbreaking air in the whole of music than Purcell's “Dido's Lament”? Joyce DiDonato (with Il Pomo d'Oro) sings it most movingly, as she does Handel's “Lascia ch'io pianga” from Rinaldo. Sandrine Piau in arias from Handel's Opera Seria (Naïve, 2004 with Les Talens Lyriques and Christophe Rousset) gives us twelve Handel arias to complement her previous Handel CD “Between Heaven and Earth” that I wrote about enthusiastically a short while ago. DiDonato's CD of “In War and Peace”, an Erato CD from 2016, recorded in the South Tyrol, makes for over an hour of happy listening. Bach and Handel spent a lot of care over their accompanying orchestras, featuring different colours. Since singers can be a pretty unreliable lot, subject to colds and sniffles, it made sense to ensure that the band could always play up with interesting music to distract from vocal foibles. The band members would have been a pretty known quantity, whilst singers varied according to the season. It is important in a performance, then, that the band be given equal prominence with the singers. Too many recording producers, on the evidence of many I have been listening to, follow the pop music norm of lead singer with a big microphone up-front, whilst the “backing group” shares a small microphone towards the back. Not good, in Bach and Handel. Joyce DiDonato's recording of “In War and Peace” shows how it should be done. Airs and arias by Handel, Purcell and a few others are beautifully sung, beautifully accompanied, and beautifully balanced by the recording engineers.

To end this enthusiastic write-up on a scowling note: A burst of crass American commercialism by Erato (Warner). The makers of DiDonato's dress, jewellery, and make-up are all listed. On a CD liner note! No one tells us where Maxim Emelyanychev (the conductor) bought his shoes, nor to which barber he reported. Not a word about who made Handel's and Purcell's wigs. We need to know these things.

Beethoven's Violin Concerto -- and Antje Weithaas

Ludwig van Beethoven's one and only concerto for violin and orchestra is something of a strange beast. Written in 1806, it is stranded between classical, 18^th century concertos, and the romantic, 19^th century. Beethoven was not a violinist, and his concerto is very much for violin and orchestra. It can be played as a left-over from the 18^th century, or as a precursor of the 19^th. For me, it makes sense as a concerto written in 1799 + 7, which may be why I almost always prefer it played by classical German violinists such as: Erich Röhn, Wolfgang Schneiderhan, Georg Kulenkampff, Adolf Busch, Katrin Scholz ... and a few others among the 87 on my shelf.

I currently have 87 recordings of the concerto, having evicted many. Violinists on my shelves begin, alphabetically, with Kristof Barati, and end with Frank Peter Zimmermann. Today I listened to it played by Antje Weithaas, a classical German violinist, if ever there were one. The Sinfonieorchester Leipzig was conducted by Klaus Mäkelä, and the performance (off-air) took place in the Leipzig Gewandhaus on 10^th February 2019. The first movement was played as a true allegro (ma non troppo). The balance between violin and orchestra was excellent, and this was a concerto for violin and orchestra (such as the one with Erich Röhn and the Berlin Philharmonic conducted by Furtwängler). All kudos to Mäkelä and the Leipzigers. The performance would have earned my three stars, were it not for the cadenzas throughout (including the first movement). After Beethoven, composers learned to supervise cadenzas (Mendelssohn with David, Brahms with Joachim, Khachaturian and Shostakovich with Oistrakh). Beethoven left no violin cadenzas, so we are at the mercy of fashion, novelty, and notoriety. If I had the energy, I'd re-burn the Weithaas CD to put the cadenzas on separate tracks so I could press “skip” each time.

Andras Schiff: "Music Comes Out Of Silence"

Books about music by eminent musicians are rare. Books about music are usually written by amateurs, journalists, critics, or academic musicologists. A refreshing glass of water from an eminent musician is the book “Music comes out of Silence” by the Hungarian pianist Andras Schiff. Schiff is a celebrated pianist, but I know his playing only from a recording in a Brahms piano quintet (with the Takacs Quartet). No views on his playing, but I loved his book and find it engrossing reading. Excellent ideas on cadenzas, “original instruments”, pianos versus harpsichords and clavichords. On most pages he has me nodding in agreement. The book is interspersed, interestingly, with his views on modern Hungarian politics, and on growing up in a Jewish community in Hungary during the 1950s and 60s, and in the communist state for many years thereafter.

Schiff, born in Budapest in 1953, is roughly of my generation (albeit a decade or so younger) so we share many of the same experiences and views as to conductors and instrumentalists. Schiff is a devotee, above all, of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert (with a few oddities such as Schumann, Mendelssohn and Bartok). His views are stimulating and thoughtful and we usually agree: “does anyone really enjoy 75 minutes of harpsichord playing?” when discussing Bach's Goldberg Variations. Many of his youthful heroes such as the Busch String Quartet, and Otto Klemperer, are also my youthful heroes, and I was interested to read that he, like me, grew up in the 1950s with a 78 rpm set of the Mendelssohn violin concerto played by Yehudi Menuhin (with George Enescu conducting). Halfway through reading his book, I looked out Edwin Fischer's recording of Bach's 48 Preludes & Fugues, and they will be next in my CD player. Interesting books get you thinking and reminiscing. My interest piqued by Schiff's thoughts on Bach's Goldberg Variation, I have ordered a CD of the work recorded by him and I'll see how it checks out against my current favourite (Beatrice Rana). Reading between the lines, I sense that Schiff and I agree on thumbs down concerning Glenn Gould in the Goldbergs. We both appear to agree, however, on the absolute pre-eminence of Johann Sebastian Bach. He is a little more pro-Beethoven than I am, but that may be down to him being a pianist. We both agree on Mozart and Schubert though, again as a pianist, Georg Frideric Händel does not get much space in Schiff's reminiscing, and we have to disagree on Bela Bartok (but Schiff is a Hungarian, after all). He appears to be a less enamoured of the music of Rachmaninov and Shostakovich than I am, but maybe again that's because he is Hungarian and they were Russians.

As I started off by saying: stimulating and thoughtful books by practising musicians are rare. “Music comes out of Silence” by Andras Schiff is a laudable exception and makes stimulating reading for music lovers, as well as for pianists and keyboard players.

Sandrine Piau in Handel: "Between Heaven and Earth"

My long-serving Marantz CD Player went kaput when the CD tray refused consistently to open, and I was left during lockdown with around 1000 CDs and no means of listening to them. Utter frustration. Ebay supplied a replacement Marantz within two days; removing the old player, and installing the new, was easy but both needed me to lie on the floor on my stomach: and then to get to my feet again afterwards. Easy when you are 18 years old; perilous when you are 80.

 I celebrated the new player with Handel; a superb CD titled “Between Heaven and Earth”, with arias and recitatives in English sung by the wonderful honeyed soprano of Sandrine Piau, one of my all-time favourite singers. The Accademia Bizanta supplied the accompaniments, with some orchestral interludes. Excellent recording by Naïve. Gold-standard music for 77 minutes, with wonderful melodies, wonderful singing, and excellent instrumentalists. Handel's music is still going strong after some 220 years, and deservedly so.

 

Stars of 2020

I became interested in “classical” music at the age of around 10 years old, coming from a musical family. Since then, I have listened to music for around 70 years and now have a current collection of around 1,000 CDs, replacing my previous collection of hundreds of LPs. Most of my listening is to recordings of the past, favourites over many decades, such as the Busch Quartet from the 1930s. But, occasionally, a new classic pops up on my personal radar. My two classics from 2020 were:

Vikingur Olafsson playing short pieces, preludes and fugues by Bach. And Olaffson playing an imaginative selection of short pieces by Rameau and Debussy.

Renaud Capuçon with Bertrand Chamayou and Edgar Moreau in chamber music and sonatas by Saint-Saëns.

Three CDs that have given me immense pleasure, and are never filed away on my shelves with the other 1,000.