A very pleasant violin CD from the unknown (to me) Corey Cerovsek, which I bought mainly because of the repertoire (Wieniawski and Vieuxtemps). Cerovsek plays the second Wieniawski violin concerto (why not the less-recorded first?) and the fifth Vieuxtemps violin concerto (why not the fourth?) He also adds Wieniawski's Faust Fantasia. Truly excellent recording (Claves) and good support from the Lausanne Chamber Orchestra under Hannu Lintu.

It is strange that Cerovsek's playing on this CD made me think immediately of Nai-Yuan Hu, who has a very similar sound. Interesting that both Cervsek and Hu are Josef Gingold pupils; he obviously made an indelible impression on them  Both Cerovsek's disc, and an excellent Bruch-Goldmark disc from Hu, are dedicated to Josef Gingold. In this repertoire -- and also in Kreisler pieces -- there could be no better model. 

This evening belongs to William Morrison (Morrison's Supermarkets) and Klaus Heymann (Naxos). Mr Morrison's shop furnished me with about the best mussels I have ever eaten (and on special offer, to boot!) I bought two kilos and had to reject just one mussel during preparation. Really, really top class. Thank you William Morrison. I'll be back. And back.

During the 1950s when I started collecting recordings, it was an expensive hobby, and choice was limited to mainstream repertoire with, typically,  a realistic choice of around four competitive recordings. This evening I listened to Emil Gilels playing short pieces on a new Naxos CD. Wonderful playing,  of course.  But what was even more remarkable was the transfers (Ward Marston) of these 1935-50 Russian recordings. The Soviet Union may have produced more top-class violinists and pianists than the whole of the Western world put together; but it was not noted for its state-of-the-art recording technology (unlike the Germans during the same period). But this £5 Naxos CD really is top-class, with truly excellent transfers at a truly excellent price. Where would we be without Klaus Heymann? And why was he not churning out desirable recordings in the 1950s when I was impoverished? Nowadays, I lose count of  the number of Naxos CDs I have in my collection (and the number grows every month). Naxos, and Harmonia Mundi; both the products of two driven individuals who have made such a difference to the world of recorded music.

The first day of 2009. And, fittingly, I celebrated it by listening to Bach's St Matthew Passion -- all nearly four hours of it. This really is the pinnacle work of classical music (closely followed, as per my last post, by the Mass in B minor and Beethoven's C sharp minor string quartet). The recording I listened to for the first time today was recorded in 1960 and conducted by Otto Klemperer. Many now term Klemperer's Bach "slow" or "old fashioned". Well, so it is, especially in the chorales. But "slow" can also be termed considered, or majestic, or magisterial, or full of gravitas. Whatever; Klemperer and his excellent choir, orchestra and soloists make a convincing case that this is how Bach should be performed; unhurried, with clear textures and a supreme overall sense of structure and design. We are a long way from Rachel Podger or Jaap Schröder and their ilk, thank goodness. The St Matthew Passion means something to Klemperer, and had done for decades. Maybe one day the wheel will come full circle and we will stop this ridiculous quest of historical reconstructions of how Bach's music may have sounded in 1725 at the first performance of the St Matthew Passion; as if Bach were famed for calculating nuances of sound and colouring, anyway -- he who swapped violins for flutes and harpsichords for violins depending on who was less drunk that morning, and what good instrumentalist was in town at the moment. The refusal to let the music breathe properly, that I noted in Suzuki's recording of the Mass in B Minor, is not present with Klemperer. The score of the Passion breathes, in its own time, and every dynamic and tempo has its righful place in the scheme of things. 10/10, and three stars. And a good start to 2009.

New Year's Eve. A disappointing leg of lamb (a bit tough) but my last bottle of Monsieur Bachelet's 1998 red wine was in flawless condition.

As a musical hors d'oeuvre I listened to Simone Lamsma playing Elgar salon pieces; entirely admirable, both music and playing. Ms Lamsma knows that music like this must not be milked, but must be allowed to flow freely and swiftly. As a main work, I listened to Masaaki Suzuki directing his forces in Bach's Bach in B Minor. What a magnificent work this is! To my mind, one of the three pinnacles of Western music (the other peaks being the St Matthew Passion, and Beethoven's C sharp minor string quartet opus 131). Suzuki's performance is excellent, though in places he could allow the music a little more time to breathe (a common modern drawback in Bach performances). Now on to 2009 ...

Christmas 2008 has been dominated by Bach cantatas. Today I polished off the last Kuijken disc, and now await new issues in 2009. Following a reference in a book, I listened to BWV 054 (Widerstehe doch der Sünde) and picked the Gardiner version. Very good. Listening on to the next cantata on the Gardiner disc, however, I baulked at the large Monteverdi choir; large choirs for the coro in Bach's cantatas, to my mind, destroy the intimate, chamber character of the works. When it comes to performances of the baroque repertoire I am a bit schizophrenic (since I would happily deport the likes of Rachel Podger and her cohorts to Australia at the drop of a hat).

I also listened to Handel's Orlando: sheer delight. As an excursion from Bach and Handel I also played a (new) CD of the Soloisti di Moscow under Yury Bashmet in Grieg (Holberg), Mozart (Eine Kleine Nachtmusick) and Tchaikovsky (Serenade in C). But, alas, it was like interrupting the drinking of a bottle of 1995 Margaux grand cru premier classe in order to take a few sips of diet Pepsi-cola. There is not too much you can listen to after Bach and Handel.

Finally, I tried yet again to make friends with Shostakovich's 10th symphony. I love his first violin concerto, his piano trio and his piano quintet. But the symphonies just are not me. A pity.

This weekend was occupied with listening to twelve Bach church cantatas! All performed by Sigiswald Kuijken and his team.

At the end of it, I am full of admiration for Bach and for his ability to churn out week after week high-class, high quality music of real and long-term interest. Also admiring of the Kuijken team for sustaining interest and performance standards; I now have one volume left to listen to of Kuijken's current seven volumes in his new cantata series.

This weekend has confirmed my view that Bach's instrumental parts in these cantatas are at least as important as the vocal parts (and frequently even more challenging for the musicians). I also, at last, now agree with Kuijken (and others) that in the church cantatas, it makes perfect sense to use just four voices for the choruses and chorales. Whatever the historical rights and wrongs, four voices confirm the intimate chamber music nature of these church cantatas. I will find it difficult to go back to the choirs of Gardiner or Herreweghe.

My musical listening remains dominated by Johann Sebastian and Georg Frideric. This evening I sat back and basked in the new Acis & Galatea (John Butt). Music to sit back with and enjoy. Then on to three Bach cantatas directed by Sigiswald Kuijken; as I wrote very recently, what appeals to me about Kuijken in Bach is the exemplary concentration on clarity of texture; with Sigiswald, you hear all the notes. I must augment my collection of Kuijken Bach cantatas -- I am missing three of the current seven volumes.

Meanwhile, I have become the true champion cook of braised oxtail. The remains this evening were of world championship standard. I must embark on a new stew-up (oxtail, onions, carrots, mushrooms, many herbs, and good red wine, plus 5-6 hours of slow cooking).

It is not often I sit down and listen to three different recordings of the same work. This weekend, however, I did just that to Bach's cantata BWV 21: Ich hatte viel Bekümmernis. It was Sigiswald Kuijken versus Philippe Herreweghe versus Masaaki Suzuki. The winner was: Sigiswald Kuijken, by quite a margin with a 20 year old recording with La Petite Bande and the Nederlands Kamerkoor. Kuijken's soprano (Greta de Reyghere) was as good as Herreweghe's (Barbara Schlick) and both were superior to Suzuki's (Monika Frimmer). Kuijken had Christoph Prégardien as his ever-admirable tenor. But what gave Kuijken his big advantage was the supreme clarity of his orchestral and choral textures. Bach's textures are often dense and complex (a source of much criticism during his lifetime), and in this cantata the bass line often has a key role in heightening the harmonic tension. With Kuijken, you hear all the parts, and his choir during the fugal passages thins down to just one or two per part. In additon, with Kuijken's direction you sense a deep love of this marvellous cantata by all concerned.

Nine times out of ten, it is wise to have alternative recordings of major works. One learns more about the music from different approaches by different musicians. There are exceptions: and Bruckner's 9th symphony is one such exception. The public broadcast performance on 7th October 1944 in Berlin by Wilhelm Furtwängler and the Berlin Philharmonic is one such exception. The performance is simply glorious, inevitable and hors concours. I no longer see any point in listening to the same work conducted by the likes of Horenstein (very good), Giulini (very good) and Knappertsbusch (very good) all of which I have. The 7th October 1944 Furtwängler performance is simply it, for this work. And the recording quality is quite good ! And thank you, DG, for the superb transfer from the original tapes.

I think I have mentioned Stephanie-Marie Degand before, in this diary. Now,  a web download of Paganini caprices, the Ysaÿe third solo sonata, plus the Bach chaconne from the second partita, have given me enormous pleasure. Degand is one of those artists who simply pick up their instruments and play. No posturing, no preening, no attention-seeking, no artifice. Ms Degand makes music. And we listeners are privileged to enjoy it.

It was interesting, this evening,  listening to Charles Mackerras's old (1969) recording of Purcell's sublime Ode to St Cecilia: "Hail, bright Cecilia". Mackerras, of course, is highly "historically informed",  as the saying goes. But the performance does illustrate the pluses and minuses of prevaling fashion. Forty years ago, women were frowned upon in performances of Purcell or Bach (the Taleban mullahs would have been happy). So here, in 1969, we have an assortment of boy tenor, counter tenors, and tenors, basses. They all cope well with the technical challenges without always sounding at ease in the vocal dextrity often demanded by Purcell.

The orchestra (English Chamber Orchestra) is a great treat, and it's nice to be rid of sour baroque bands ... for the moment.  The chorus, however, is sung by the Ambrosian Choir supplemented by the Tiffin Choir (presumably to stop any women appearing). It sounds massive and dwarfs orchestra, soloists and music; quite in the English choral tradition I have grown to dread -- along with my neighbours, I suspect, who must be blown out of their armchairs when these choirs sing at full, enthusiastic blast.

One day, there will be an ideal "Hail, Bright Cecilia" with superb, professsional soloists, a band of virtuoso instrumentalists, and a light, compact choir. I hope I shall be around to see it, since the music is superb.

The 1952 recording of the performance of Tchaikovsky's Piano Trio by Gilels, Kogan and Rostropovich has to be one of music's top 100 recorded performances. It is like four minds (including Tchaikovsky) singing the same song. I know, I have said it before. But this is a recording I keep near my CD player, since I often want to come back to it and, when I do, I always enjoy it. Well done the four Russkies ! And the new transfer by Jakob Harnoy just completes the excellent job.

Dvorak's String Quintet

Dvorak's Op 97 string quintet left me pretty cold, despite the 1968 efforts of the Budapest String Quartet. I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that Haydn, Dvorak and Liszt are a lost cause in so far as I am concerned. Odd, and personal, that I can love Handel but be bored by Haydn, like Mendelssohn and love Schubert, yet yawn at Liszt, and love Janacek yet always fall asleep in Dvorak. Mais c'est comme ça. Dvorak ain't for me.

Thanks to my good friend Carlos, I have a most interesting set of "Belgian Violin School" four CDs (transferred from four HMV LPs of recordings from the 1960s and 70s). The violinists featured are Rudolf Werthen, Carlo van Neste, Marcel Debot and Maurice Raskin (I have so far listened to all except Raskin). The music played is by Vieuxtemps, de Bériot, Léonard and Ysaÿe thus, an all-Belgian affair.

I am not a fan of Walloon Belgium ... but happily make an exception when it comes to the violin. Following on from my satisfaction with the French Philippe Graffin the other day, it is pleasant to re-encounter the Franco-Belgian school of violin playing with its sophistication, good taste and dedicated artistry. The Russo-Israeli-DeLay school of power playing may be appropriate for Brahms, Tchaikovsky or Shostakovich; but not for Ysaÿe. Interestingly, the other day I switched on my car radio to catch the end of someone playing Chausson's Poème. Wonderful full-blooded romantic playing, I thought; but hardly suitable for Chausson. When the performance ended, I learned that it had been David Oistrakh, Charles Münch and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Enough said. Take me back to the Franco-Belgians in that kind of music.

I bought and have listened to the Hyperion CD of Nikolay Roslavets' two violin concertos (the first early in his life, the second much later). The first concerto (1925) strikes me as interesting and expertly written. Let down, as so often with so many composers, by the lack of any melodic or thematic gifts; the first two movements last nearly 30 minutes but cannot summon a theme between them. The third movement is more attactive -- a sort of Ukrainian saltarella -- and at last produces a couple of worthy themes. The second concerto (1936) strikes me as Soviet People's Music at its uninspired worst. Throughly admirable soloist in both works in Alina Ibragimova: the thinking man's violinist.

An excellent CD comes from Philippe Graffin. Under the vague heading Hungarian Dances he assembles 26 short bits. "Hungarian" is to be interpreted broadly: the selection includes Debussy's La plus que lente, Vecsey's Valse Triste, and Liszt's Romance Oubliée. But an attractive and varied selection, really well presented by Graffin who may not have the PR clout of Janine Jansen or Joshua Bell, but who is a violinist to be listened to with interest.

The evening started well with one of my favourite steak koftas (lots of garlic and coriander). We continued with Joyce DiDonato's new CD of Handel arias (with Christophe Rousset): Furore. DiDonato is an excellent singer for this music: passionate, involved, dexterous. A bit like the younger Fischer-Dieskau, she is sometimes just a little too involved for comfort and almost seems to be "hamming" it. But no great matter; it's a most enjoyable 75 minutes listening to her in Handel's varied and inventive music.

Then on to "Laureates", a CD from Russia consisting of excerpts from the public recitals of violinist winners of the Tchaikovsky Prize in Moscow. Six violinists: Ruben Agaronyan, Sergei Stadler, Rafael Oleg, Viktoria Mullova, Ilya Kaler .. and Akiko Suwanai who really takes the biscuit with a scintillating and devil-inspired rendition of Sarasate's Carmen Fantasia. The Russian audience (quite properly) goes wild. Quite difficult to listen to anyone else in this piece after this public performance by Ms Suwanai.

Handel's 1707 cantata (written when he was 22 years old) Aminta e Fillide must be one of the loveliest musical works ever written. Hit follows hit, broken by short recitatives. The new recording from La Risonanza (directed by Fabio Bonizzoni) is near ideal, as so often in this series from the Glossa label. The singers, Maria Grazia Schiavo and Nuria Rial, are exemplary and it is nice to hear Italian sung by Italians, for a change (though Rial is Catelan, of course but doesn't sound it here).

Back from France and from Eisenach. The city of Bach was really enjoyable -- calm, serious and newly prosperous. The Hotel Kaiserhof just by the city gate was an extremely pleasant place to stay; I must go back there.

To celebrate my return, I listened to the Stratton String Quartet and Harriet Cohen in a 1933 recording of Elgar's Piano Quintet. Since I encountered this music around ten years ago (at a concert in Boxgrove Priory) it has become something that touches me deeply -- more than anything else by Elgar. This "authentic" recording also astonished me by the fidelity of the sound: well balanced, and with beautiful burnished string tone. Three stars in my catalogue.