Fernando Palatin

"Auch kleine Dinge können uns entzücken.

Auch kleine Dinge können teuer sein."

Italienisches Liederbuch (Hugo Wolf)

For my coming birthday, a kind friend sent me a CD of violin and piano pieces by Fernando Palatin. Palatin -- of whom I had never heard in my entire life -- was born in Seville in 1852, and died in 1927. He was a touring virtuoso whose music is of the same genre as that of his compatriot, Pablo de Sarasate, and of Fritz Kreisler. Of the 14 pieces for violin & piano, most are not overtly "Spanish", nor overtly virtuosic, and will appeal to lovers of the short violin pieces by Kreisler and Sarasate, though the style is further west than Kreisler's Austro-German accent. The CD was recorded in 2020 by Rafael Munoz-Torrero (violin) and Julio Moguer (piano). The violinist, like Palatin, is from Seville. I had never heard of Munoz-Torrero either, but he plays elegantly and has an enchanting manner with the music. Franco-Spanish in playing style, rather than German or Russian.

Since everyone concerned (apart from Georges Bizet) is from Seville, we get a Carmen Fantasia. Palatin's is at least as good as Sarasate's, and infinitely better than that of showy Franz Waxman in Hollywood. Those with the facility, may want to use "shuffle play" to avoid always playing the fourteen pieces in the same order. I love especially the first piece: Adios al Alcázar. The piano parts are intelligent and interesting, and the recording well-balanced. This is a CD to listen to, sit back, and enjoy. Why have we never met composer nor violinist before?

Shostakovich's 8th Symphony

Dimitri Dimitriyevich Shostakovich was born in 1906, and died in 1975. After his death, I say goodbye to music composed after him, crowning around 300 years of music that outlives all fashions. I can think of nothing composed after Shostakovich that appears again and again on concert or recital programmes, though there is an abundance of "new music" that appears once or twice, then vanishes. I have just been listening to Shostakovich's 8th Symphony, a work with many very noisy episodes and full of the composer's constant paranoia. It is important to get the volume right when listening to a recording; the works ends pianissimo. If the volume is set too low, you won't hear it. If the volume is set higher, the very loud passages will blow you out of your chair.

Shostakovich always speaks to me, unlike Harrison Birtwistle and a host of others.

I listened to the work this morning in a Berlin Philharmonic Digital Concert Hall recording, with the BPO conducted by Kirill Petrenko. Wonderfully played, and with a demonstration-class recording (the 8th symphony needs both). I don't know much about Kirill Petrenko who, unlike many others of his ilk, appears to keep a low profile and just gets on conducting the Berlin Philharmonic, with occasional guest appearances elsewhere. But he and the orchestra take to Shostakovich like ducks to water; fortunately, since I have the 9th and 10th symphonies from the same source lined up on the listening ramp, completing my cannon of the three Shostakovich symphonies I most enjoy.

Handel Duets with Rosemary Joshua and Sarah Connolly

Serendipity saw me pluck an old (2009) Handel recording from my shelves, with Rosemary Joshua (soprano) and Sarah Connolly (mezzo) regaling me with twelve Handel duets (Harry Bicket and The English Concert). 62 minutes of delightful music.

Handel's music always puts me in a good mood. Remarkably, from his very early 20s in Italy until his death in England at the ripe old age (for that time) of 74, there is little difference in the quality of the music. Handel's music is "pure", unaffected by personal moods or circumstances; personal ingredients were to come later, starting with Mozart. And what an incredible gift for melodies!

Having the duets sung by a soprano and mezzo is much to my taste, and worth 20 counter-tenors and castrati. Sometimes one strikes lucky with serendipitous selections although, for me, Georg Frideric Händel never fails. An interesting and much-travelled man who spoke German, English, French and Italian, he was someone I would have loved to have met in his Brook Street house in London. After 250 years, his music lives on giving immense pleasure. All twelve duets taken from his operas and oratorios on this CD are 24 carats.

Kerson Leong in Britten and Bruch

Like Beethoven, Brahms, Sibelius, Tchaikovsky, Elgar --and many others -- Benjamin Britten wrote only one violin concerto, a youthful work dating from the years 1938-9. The concerto was revised subsequently but never really took off until the past twenty years or so when it has been "discovered" by a new generation of violinists and listeners. It is a mournful work, written in the shadow of the Spanish Civil War. For many violinists of that generation, Heifetz's advocacy of the concerto by William Walton was more persuasive. Britten's work's first recording was not until 1948 (Theo Olof, playing the original version of the work; interestingly, Olof's compatriot, Simone Lamsma, also played the original version in 2018 -- off-air recording).

The concerto is highly virtuosic. I currently have eighteen recordings, all but a handful dating from the past twenty years or so. The latest comes on a CD (recorded 2021) with Kerson Leong as the soloist (with the Philharmonia conducted by Patrick Hahn). I had never heard, or heard of, Leong before, but am highly impressed by his playing of the Britten. As well as being virtuosic, the concerto demands a wide variety of moods and dynamics from the soloist. Leong copes admirably on all fronts. The recording captures the full range of the orchestra and the violinist, though perhaps the violin is recorded just a little too forward. No matter; an excellent performance and recording of a work that, at last, appears to be taking its place within the standard repertoire (viz also the first Shostakovich violin concerto with which Britten's has a lot in common). A shame Britten wrote only one violin concerto (his Opus 15). He is not a composer to whom I often relate, but his violin concerto is an exception.

I thought I knew every piece of music ever written for the violin, but Max Bruch's In Memoriam Op 65 for violin and orchestra is an exception: never heard of it before. It now features on Leong's CD and thus enters my repertoire of known works. An adagio that falls between two stools: too short to be a concert item (cf. Saint-Saën's Havanaise). Too long at just under 15 minutes to be an encore. It is technically undemanding, and I suspect that some years ago I could have played it with ease. Leong has no competition and I can make no comparisons, but he appears to play the piece admirably. Like much of Max Bruch's enormous output, the music is somewhat bland; workman-like, rather than inspired.

Max Bruch's main claim to fame has always been his first violin concerto, in G minor opus 26. This is also on Leong's Alpha CD. One of those works -- like Beethoven's 5th symphony -- that I always feel I have by now heard once too often. Leong gives a warm, romantic performance of the concerto; his violin makes a lovely sound (a sound and style that made me think of the violinist Nai-Yuan Hu) and I greatly enjoyed his playing. Yet another modern violinist to be reckoned with. A slight regret that he did not choose a less hackneyed concerto to add to the Britten; the Glazunov concerto, or those by Goldmark, or Julius Conus?

Josef Hassid

A sensitive boy, an only child, loses his mother when he is ten years old. His domineering father uproots him from his native Poland and brings him to England in 1938. He makes recordings of eight pieces of music, lasting a total of 30 minutes, at the EMI studios in 1940. He breaks down under all the pressure, refuses to play the violin in his late teens, then dies in his 20s after a failed brain operation. In the world of the early 1940s in Europe, yet another tragedy. But the boy's name was Josef Hassid, and the eight pieces of music he recorded have lived on to this day.

Hassid was a superb, natural technician -- like so many. But, listening to his playing, what makes him so special was his empathy for the music he played. He played the music from the inside, so to speak, with each note speaking personally to him. His playing of Sarasate's Playera, and of Joseph Achron's Hebrew Melody almost bring shivers down the spine, as if listening to playing from beyond the grave.

I have cherished the Hassid recordings for many decades. They have been reissued and often remastered, best up to now by the old EMI Testament label. The latest reincarnation is from a company called Parnassus, and the remasterings are the best yet. The recordings may date from 1940, but the playing lives on vividly. Of all the many losses of truly great musicians; the loss of Josef Hassid is probably one of the most tragic.

Cecilia Zillliacus: Camille Saint-Saëns

Camille Saint-Saëns. Born in Paris in 1835. Died in 1921. 86 is not a bad age for a composer. I've always had a soft spot for his music, particularly his chamber music, and his violin concertos. A recent CD features the Swedish violinist Cecilia Zilliacus with, varying, Christian Ihle Hadland (piano) and Stephen Fitzpatrick (harp). I have rarely encountered the playing of Zilliacus in the past, but I really admired her in these Saint-Saëns works. Her husky tone suits the music admirably, and she plays with a wide variety of bowings and dynamics. The first sonata is well known (it was a favourite of Jascha Heifetz). The second sonata is rarely played, but it makes for relaxed and enjoyable listening, so typical of the music of Saint-Saëns who was completely devoid of any Mahler-like Angst and anguish. The Fantaisie Op 124, and the Berceuse Op 38, both with harp accompaniment, make me wonder why there is so very little music for violin and harp. The gentle sound of the harp complements a violin so much better than the more masculine and domineering sound of a piano.

I greatly enjoyed this Saint-Saëns CD. It makes for highly comfortable listening; a bit like a French Haydn, with no stress. Given his long life, Saint-Saëns wrote a very great deal of music. A greater part of it is now rarely played. Our loss. I enjoyed the sound and playing of Cecilia Zilliacus; I know nothing about her, except I have an old CD of her playing Bartok and Dohnanyi. To my surprise, I already have a recording of the "unknown" Fantaisie for violin and harp -- played by Arnold Eidus and E.Vito in 1960. The BIS recording is excellent (BIS is a good company) and well-balanced. I suspect BIS has engineers who know about classical recording, unlike many companies who just seem to use pick-up free-lance recording specialists who may record a pop group on Monday, a jazz band on Tuesday, and a string quartet on Wednesday.

Bach Cantatas, and Beethoven Quartets

Recently I embarked on a mini-marathon of listening to nine or ten Bach cantatas, conducted by a mixture of Philippe Herreweghe and Maasaki Suzuki. Herreweghe uses mainly Flemish / Dutch forces; Suzuki uses mainly Japanese instrumentalists and choir, but usually European vocal soloists. One forgets that Bach often had to compose on autopilot, especially when his job description in Leipzig obliged him for a time to compose, rehearse and perform a new cantata every week. Even Bach couldn't do that for years on end without occasionally resorting to what might be called "composing by numbers". My attention flagged in some of the cantatas, and a few movements made me frustrated that the "skip to next track" button on my remote control does not work.

From Bach cantatas I switched my listening to Beethoven's late string quartets. These works -- starting with Op.127 in E flat major -- show what a great composer can do when roaming free and relieved of having to establish a reputation, please a patron, or earn much-needed money. I have always loved the late Beethoven quartets, including Op.130 in B flat major with its original grotesque Grosse Fuga finale. That original finale is Beethoven gone wild, just as he did, much less to my taste, in the equally grotesque choral finale to his ninth symphony. For me, the late Beethoven string quartets stand on a musical pinnacle with masterpieces such as Bach's Mass in B minor, and the Saint Matthew Passion.

I discussed -- and praised -- the performances of the Beethoven quartets by the Quatuor Mosaïques a few years ago, so I won't repeat my then-review except to confirm that I still enjoy these recordings very much, despite a myriad of rivals. As then, I greatly appreciate that the Mosaïques reinstate the original Grosse Fuga finale of Op.130 instead of the routine get-you-home-safely finale Beethoven was persuaded to substitute by the Schuppanzigh Quartet, and his friends. Beethoven's first thoughts were best, with the sublime Cavatina followed by the fugue. The cellist, Christophe Coin, underpins all the performances in an exemplary fashion.

The C sharp minor quartet Op 131 is where I started my Beethoven late quartets odyssey many, many decades ago when I bought a second-hand LP of Op 131 played by the Busch Quartet. Op 131 sees Beethoven breaking away from the classical quartet form of Haydn and Mozart and writing what, in some respects, is an elaborate fantasia nearly 40 minutes long. I have often felt this is the kind of music Beethoven would have preferred to write had he not had to worry about publishers, patrons, and sponsors.

Beethoven was only 57 years old when he died. As with Mozart, as with Schubert: what would he have written given another 15 years or so of life? I am not an uncritical fan of Ludwig van Beethoven; I have had his one opera "Fidelio" on my shelves for at least 20 years, but have yet to hear it. Much of his music, however, is truly "great", and this includes the late string quartets.

Sandrine Piau and David Kadouch

In the world of classical music, songs are an amalgam of music and poetry. In listening to songs, language is a limiting factor; if the words mean nothing to you, half the magic is gone. For that reason, serious collections of songs appear to be limited to Germany, France, and Russia (though why the Italians or Spaniards do not have serious song collections beats me). My knowledge of the French and German languages is reasonable. I don't speak Russian, so my song listening centres on French and German. I was at ease with a new CD from Sandrine Piau, accompanied by David Kadouch. The 19 songs are partly in German (Liszt, Wolf, Schubert, Clara Schumann) and partly in French (Duparc, Lili Boulanger, Debussy -- and the cosmopolitan Liszt again).

Piau sings like an angel, and her diction is good -- so necessary in these songs. I also liked Kadouch as her partner (he plays two solos during the CD). Recitals mixing languages are strangely rare, but I greatly welcomed this one. Recommended.

A round-up of little-known artists: Abel, Chen, Holthe, Ebène Quartet

I recently received a welcome deluge of CDs by artists of whom I had never heard. Most welcome: too often "famous" artists are the product of wealthy sponsors or backers, be the backers families, individuals, governments, or support groups. It has always been thus, and I am conscious there must have been thousands of really first-class artists out there without backers or sponsors. So welcome to the unknowns who also never had the leg-up given in the past by the (few) international recording and distribution companies.

First up on my player were David Abel and Julie Steinberg. Beethoven's last sonata for violin and piano, Opus 96. The sound is 30% violin and 70% piano. Someone should have told the engineers that the sound of the violin and piano should be balanced. When the piano plays softly, we hear everything clearly; when the violin plays softly, we have to strain our ears to try to make out whether Abel is playing, or not. Abel's violin (when you can hear it) makes a smooth, cooing sound with little evidence of bow changes; a kind of permanent son filé. A sound not to my taste in Beethoven. Then on to George Enescu's third sonata for violin and piano, heavily inflected with Romanian folk music with its strong influences from gypsy music (from North India) and Turkish-North African idioms. Here the balance engineer knew his job a little better and we are in an improved sound world. Abel's sound is more appropriate to Enescu's music here than it was to Beethoven's world.

Onwards with Abel and Steinberg, this time on a CD with Brahms' Op 78 sonata for violin and piano. The bad balance engineer is back, though maybe someone told Abel that, when playing the German classics, always to use a mute, and to play with a soft, cooing sound. Whatever: It didn't sound like Brahms to my ears, and I did not enjoy it. Even after the recent purges of my collection of recorded music, I still have 46 recordings of this sonata. And Abel and Steinberg are certainly not among my favourites. It just ain't Johannes Brahms as we know and love him. I've always had a soft spot for Debussy's one and only sonata for violin and piano, and I enjoyed the duo's playing here more than in Brahms or Beethoven. But I wish Abel would leave his mute at home, and give his bowing arm a little more work to do rather than playing with a constant all-so-smooth sound. This second CD ends with a short selection of Romanian Folk Dances (as arranged initially by Bartok). Abel sounds like a well-scrubbed and freshly manicured Californian gypsy, rather than a folk violinist such as the great Grigoras Dinicu.

The Americans redeem themselves with a 2019 Queen Elisabeth prize winner, Stella Chen, playing with Henry Kramer. An all-Schubert programme, including the lovely D 934 Fantasia, the B minor Rondo D 895, and a couple of short pieces. Chen obviously loves Schubert's music; and it shows in her playing. And no problem with the balance between piano and violin, here. Chen knows how to vary her bow strokes, and to shade her dynamics. First-class.

Then off to Norway, with Kolbjørn Holthe and Tor Aspen Aspaas. On offer is Richard Strauss's early sonata for violin and piano, plus another recording of the Enescu third sonata. The two Norwegians make an excellent duo, and -- for a change -- the balance between the recorded sound of the two instruments is of demonstration class. It is difficult to record a violin playing pianissimo when competing against the sound of a piano; this is particularly true in the Enescu sonata, with many passages in the second movement where the violin plays pianissimo in harmonics high up above the stave. All too often one has to hear these passages from memory (as with the Abel recording above). But not in this recording. And the dramatic ending of the Enescu really makes a major impact with this impressive recorded sound.

Finally, a group that was not unknown to me, but has been overlooked. I have a 2008 recording of the Ebène Quartet playing the string quartets of Debussy, Fauré, and Ravel; hardly the greatest collection of string quartets. But I was given a recent recording by the Ebène, with Antoine Tamestit playing two of Mozart's string quintets (K 515 and K 516). Really excellent performances that bring out the best in all five instruments. This all-French group rivals the old Grumiaux set of the string quintets. The Mozart string quintets (two violins, two violas, one cello) have to be up there with some of the greatest music ever written. I was so impressed with the playing and recording here that I ordered a CD of the Ebène playing two Beethoven quartets.

Ning Feng and Zhang Zuo play Brahms

I have often had doubts about violinists of the Russian school playing Brahms. Too often, Johannes Brahms is made to sound a bit like Tchaikovsky, or Dvorak. So I was curious when a friend sent me a new CD of the three Brahms sonatas for violin and piano played by two Chinese musicians: Ning Feng, and Zhang Zuo. If I have doubts about Russian Brahms, how about Chinese Brahms? Well, listening to the CD, I am won over and full of admiration. I know Ning Feng especially as a virtuoso violinist playing Paganini and Ernst. In Brahms, he plays with sensitivity and a true sense of the music, not laying the paint on too thickly as often happens with Brahms players. He has a wonderful sense of light and shade, of varied dynamics all allied, of course, to a perfect technique. Tempi flow well, and the music does not bog down as can happen with Brahms' thick textures. Feng's Stradivarius violin sounds wonderful, and his passages in double stops are particularly memorable; almost Fritz Kreisler standard.

I was worried that Zhang Zuo, the pianist, might turn out to be a Chinese equivalent of Emanuel Bay, Heifetz's all too subservient accompanist in duo sonatas. Zuo is not as impressive as Ning Feng, but she does not rock the boat and joins in a convincing partnership. She does not have the personality or authority of Julius Katchen (with Josef Suk) or Edwin Fischer (with Gioconda de Vito), or Yuja Wang (with Kavakos): but who does? Zuo does, however, show her fangs in the scherzo from the F.A.E sonata to which Brahms contributed; here the piano has a more dominant role. Listening to these three Brahms violin and piano sonatas, the musical interest is 70% violin and 30% piano. Which may be about right, though it would not work in the violin and piano sonatas of Mozart, or César Franck, amongst others.

It is difficult to talk of a "golden age" of violin playing, since only a minute percentage of top violinists were ever recorded in previous ages. All I know is that, at the present time, we are spoilt for choice with top violinists from every quarter of the globe. For me, Ning Feng is one of many top violinists of the present age. I recently greatly admired his playing of the Bach unaccompanied sonatas and partitas. After nearly 70 years of listening to, and playing, the three Brahms sonatas, they are almost too familiar. It's a long time since I enjoyed them as much as this time round, thanks to Ning Feng, Zhang Zuo -- and Channel, the CD publisher.

Leonid Borisovich Kogan. 1924-82

If three major musicians are going to play together in chamber music, they need to have played together often for pleasure, and not just meet up in a recording studio, or at an international festival. The twentieth century saw two major trios: Cortot, Thibaud and Casals, and Gilels, Kogan and Rostropovich. All friends, until politics tore them apart.

I have just been listening to Tchaikovsky's Trio for piano, violin and cello Opus 50. One of my evergreen favourite works. Inevitably, the recording I listened to (superbly re-furbished by the French company Diapason) was that recorded in Moscow in 1952 by Kogan, Gilels and Rostropovich; an all-time classic, and as Russian as caviar, icy winds, and vodka. One of the few works I can only ever listen to with the same recording: no competitors after 71 years.

Leonid Kogan was, for me, the primary Russian violinist of the twentieth century. Unlike Kreisler or Heifetz, he also excelled in chamber music (the French company Doremi issued a 5-CD box of Kogan, Gilels and Rostropovich in various piano trios by Haydn, Beethoven, Mozart, Shostakovich, Schumann, Borodin, Saint-Saëns, et al). His many recordings are classics, with the violin concertos of Paganini, Khachaturian, Tchaikovsky, and Brahms still supreme. Being now well outside the international copyright convention of 50 years, his recordings are reissued and reissued by a multitude of companies with wildly differing success results. Transfers range from unacceptable to not too bad at all. In the West, Oistrakh was preferred because many sniffed at Kogan's politics (Shostakovich always called him "Comrade Kogan"). However decades after his death, all that is left are recordings of his violin playing. One of my all-time favourite violinists and musicians.

Finghin Collins and Trio in Mozart

There are a few great classics of recorded music: Kreisler playing Kreisler, the Busch Quartet playing the Beethoven string quartets, Maria Callas singing Tosca, Otto Klemperer conducting Beethoven's Eroica symphony, Clara Haskil playing Mozart .... and several others. Then there are the top "brand names" who became top partly from talent, partly from adroit PR and slick marketing and sales promotion. Much like the choice of your breakfast cereal or toothpaste: major brand name, or little-known store name at half the price. After around 70 years of buying music recordings, I had never heard the name of the Irish pianist Finghin Collins. And here he was playing with an assembled trio of violin, viola and cello in two Mozart piano quartets (K478 and K493). Apparently Collins won 1st prize at the 1999 Clara Haskil contest, and I can quite believe it. His playing in Mozart has the elegant simplicity that Haskil brought to this music. In music such as this, one can often forget big brand names and go for real quality. Nicely recorded in an Irish church, to boot. Sometimes musicians of whom you have never heard, can turn out performances that are really top class. Such is the case here.

Schubert's Die Winterreise with Hans Hotter and Michael Raucheisen

I grew up in the 1950s with Schubert's Die Winterreise, sung at the time by Hans Hotter with Gerald Moore at the piano; three sides of 12 inch LPs. Today, on a snowy morning, I listened again to the work, this time sung by Hans Hotter in 1943, with Michael Raucheisen as the pianist. An impressive performance that, for me, brought out all the angst in Schubert's 24 songs, with no little thanks to Raucheisen's piano playing. What an impressive work this is! The constant harmonic changes show what Schubert might have written had he lived beyond the age of 31. A classic for all time.

Capuçon and Argerich at Aix-en-Provence

Live recordings ain't what they used to be. In the old days, you had coughs, shuffling, the occasional bang as a trumpet was dropped, dubious balance. I have just been listening to Renaud Capuçon and Martha Argerich recorded live in Aix-en-Provence on 23rd April 2022 and, apart from applause at the end of the CD, you would never guess the recording was live. Well done the engineers (and the audience). All well-balanced, to boot (balancing a piano and a solo violin is not plain sailing). The recording illustrates one of the advantages of live, versus studio.

Capuçon has always been one of my preferred modern violinists (which is why I broke my rule and added this new CD to my collection). I have not been a fan of Argerich; too tigerish for me (can you imagine her pleasing in music by Mozart or Debussy?) This Aix-en-Provence CD assembles Schumann's first violin and piano sonata, with Beethoven's Kreutzer sonata, and César Franck's sonata; all beefy 19th century works that suit Argerich's piano playing. I greatly enjoyed Capuçon's playing, and the duo balance with Argerich, though I would have preferred a less flamboyant pianist. Not a CD I really needed, having innumerable recordings of the Schumann, Kreutzer and Franck on my shelves; and the Kreutzer is not my favourite violin & piano sonata, since I rarely enjoy Beethoven in macho mode. Probably not a CD I should have bought, though I do enjoy Capuçon's violin playing here, so I'll keep the recording.

New Music

Music throughout the ages has been based mainly on folk song, dance music, love songs. The Beatles' "Yesterday" would have been enjoyed by music lovers in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. As they would have enjoyed Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne", or Edith Piaf's "Je ne regrette rien". Folk song, dance music, and love songs are pretty well eternal. Not so much "classical" music after the beginning of the 20th century, that abandoned its roots and became increasingly the preserve of a few trendies, plus music academies. Apart from the music of Shostakovich, I can think of almost no music I listen to composed after 1960. The "music industry" attempts to thrust "new music" on us, but most of us resist with profound indifference. Give me the Beatles, Leonard Cohen or Edith Piaf any day when it comes to post- 1955.

My Record of the Year: Eternal Heaven (Handel)

"I can resist anything, except temptation," Oscar Wilde once quipped. Well, I can resist buying yet another CD; unless it's a collection of Handel arias. The latest to be added to my immense collection of Handel is a CD titled "Eternal Heaven" and features Lea Desandre (mezzo-soprano), Iestyn Davies (counter-tenor), and a small orchestra called Jupiter, directed by Thomas Dunford. 21 tracks, all sung in English, starting with the wonderful aria "Eternal source of light divine" from the birthday ode for Queen Anne (where the solo trumpet is transcribed for Lea Desandre; not a bad idea).

As so often with Handel, the music is wonderful. Handel was a truly great melodist, with a master's touch. I liked both singers -- even the counter-tenor -- and the small band plays much as Handel would have wanted. Many favourite arias from Semele, Theodora, Solomon, Susanna, Esther, and others. A CD strongly recommended for those who want 86 minutes of often achingly beautiful music (try "Hither let our hearts transpire" from Theodora, or "To thee thou glorious son of earth", from the same oratorio.). A CD to file in my "keep close to hand" rack. They don't write music like this any more. "Comfort music"? It may well be. If so: long live comfort music!

I first listened to this new CD on 31st December, so it's just in time to be my Record of the Year 2022. A big bravo to the two soloists, the Jupiter band, the recording company (Erato, recording in a Normandy chapel). And to Mr Händel for the music.

Henry Purcell

Henry Purcell (1659-95) died at the age of 36 and was England's (only) great composer. To paraphrase a remark by Handel: "If he had lived longer, we would all be out of a job". His music is characterised by great harmonic daring, with strange harmonies that often make the late quartets of Beethoven sound conventional by comparison. Above all, his is pure music and makes us conscious of how music, after 1800, became less concerned with pure pleasure and began to gravitate towards emotions and personal statements. Purcell composed for his 17th century audience operas, masques, sonatas, trios, choral works, songs and, picking up a music form already antiquated at the time, Fantasias for the Viols (1680). Viol consorts were dated by 1680. As a change from violin music, I have been listening to the Fantasias as recorded by Jordi Savall and Hespèrion XX in 1994 with an all-star cast including Wieland Kuijken and Philippe Pierlot.

The music is never boring or routine; the tempi and harmonies are in constant flux with these early precursors of the classical string quartet. The CD ends with the In Nomine in 7 parts. Most of the Fantasias are in four parts, with a few in three parts. Think string trios, or string quartets. I first came across the Fantasias when I was around 15 years old and gave one of my sisters a 10" LP of the music, played by I forget whom. I have kept lovingly in touch with them ever since. The music is remarkable, and unforgettable; always highly contrapuntal, and often almost dodecaphonic years before its time. No wonder Handel was an admirer. Purcell is mainly known now for his opera Dido and Aeneas; but even given his short life, there is so much more of his music to admire and love. When I have finished with the Fantasias, I'll start back on his songs, of which there are many and of which he was a master.

 

Augustin Hadelich plays Tchaikovsky and Lalo

For some reason or another, it has been a long time since I last listened to Tchaikovsky's violin concerto. I listened to it today in a live recording by Augustin Hadelich, with the London Philharmonic conducted by Vasily Petrenko. Well recorded, and you would never know it was live, were it not for the (well deserved) thunderous applause at the end of the work.

Hadelich is well on the way to becoming my favourite modern violinist, in a highly competitive field. His intonation is impeccable, his technique beyond reproach. He always makes a lovely sound but, more importantly and more rare, he is a highly sensitive musician who appears to react instinctively to every bar he plays. His playing is always interesting; I would characterise his style as Central European as opposed to what I always think of as the Russian-Israeli-American more macho approach. I listened with pleasure to every bar of Tchaikovsky's concerto and was tempted to join in the final applause. Petrenko and the LPO contribute well, as one might expect; but Hadelich is the star here.

On to the second live recording on this CD, still with Hadelich and the LPO, but with Omer Meir Wellber conducting (never heard of him). A long way from Russia, we meet Eduard Lalo's Symphonie Espagnole -- with all five movements, thank goodness, and not the abbreviated four movement version that was often played in the past on the dubious grounds that a symphonie should only have four movements. Again, it is Hadelich who is the star in this over-familiar work. He is a violinist to whom one listens. The unknown Mr Wellber ensures a first-class accompaniment from the orchestra. Bravo to all concerned: Hadelich, the LPO, the conductors, the recording engineers. This a first-class CD.