New Year’s Concert 2013.
Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Franz Welser-Möst. Sony. $13.98 (2 CDs).
Salon Chromatique et Harmonique:
Music of Wagner, Liszt and Rossini. Silke Avenhaus, piano. BR Klassik.
$17.98.
Beethoven: Variations and Fugue
in E-flat, Op. 35 (“Eroica”); Haydn: Variations in F minor; Schumann: Symphonic
Études, Op. 13. Emanuel Ax, piano. Sony. $12.98.
James Whitbourn: Annelies.
Arianna Zukerman, soprano; Westminster Williamson Voices; The Lincoln Trio
(Desirée Ruhstrat, violin;
David Cunliffe, cello; Marta Aznavoorian, piano) and Bharat Chandra, clarinet;
conducted by James Jordan. Naxos. $9.99.
Here are a number of
attractive mixtures of the familiar and unfamiliar, each taking its own approach
to melding the better-known and less-known and each achieving considerable
success in its own way. The January 1
New Year’s Concerts of the Vienna Philharmonic are a longtime institution not
only in Europe but also throughout the
world, and each and every one is a Straussfest,
but the 2013 concert – the 73rd of them – was also a celebration of
the bicentennials of Wagner and Verdi, both of whom were born in 1813.
Furthermore, this concert interestingly, unusually and quite intelligently
showcased Josef Strauss rather than Johann Strauss Jr. Josef may have been even
more talented than Johann Jr., but Josef’s death at age 42 in 1870 left the
question forever unanswerable in any definitive way. What is certain is that
Josef’s music consistently contains subtleties and inventiveness of harmony,
organization and orchestration beyond those of most of the works of Johann Jr.,
and certainly Josef’s works deserve to be heard much more frequently. Franz
Welser-Möst leads seven of them
with the always-splendid Vienna Philharmonic, including one of the greatest
waltzes of all, Sphären-Klänge,
which really does sound like the music of the spheres when played as
beautifully as it is here. There are
also five works by Johann Jr. (with the Blue
Danube in its traditional pride of place as an encore) and two by Johann
Sr. (whose Radetzky March is the
other encore and the concert’s ebullient conclusion). But this Straussfest
has other elements as well – some expected (Suppé’s Light Cavalry
overture) and some without precedent at these concerts (the prelude to Act III
of Wagner’s Lohengrin and the Prestissimo from the ballet music from
the five-act version of Verdi’s Don Carlo). Also here are Joseph Lanner’s Styrian Dances and a pleasant polka-mazurka
called Unter vier Augen (“Between the
Two of Us”) by Joseph Hellmesberger II, who was conductor of the Vienna
Philharmonic from 1901 to 1903 and a once-well-known operetta composer. The bright festivity of this concert for the
new year will surprise absolutely no one; nor will the excellence of the
playing. But the musical mixture does
hold some surprises, very pleasant ones, that make the celebration even more
enjoyable than usual. The recording does
have one oddity, though: nowhere are timings for any of the works provided – a
curious omission.
What is curious about
the Silke Avenhaus recital labeled Salon
Chromatique et Harmonique is the musical mixture as well as the overall
concept – which should whet many listeners’ curiosity. In an attempt to expand the
experience of listeners’ ears, Avenhaus mixtures some moderately well-known
works with some almost completely unknown ones, stirring them together into an
imaginary “salon” performance akin to those in the 19th century, in
which more-elaborate and less-complex works frequently appeared together. From Wagner’s virtually unknown Mathilde
Wesendonck piano tribute, A sonata for
the album of Madame M.W., which opens this BR Klassik CD, to Liszt’s
monumental “Dante” sonata (Fantasia quasi
Sonata from the third year of Années
de Pèlerinage) at the
disc’s conclusion, Avenhaus unfurls a series of loosely connected and very
loosely interrelated works, playing them all with considerable panache and
great stylistic sensitivity. The Wagner sonata, a surprisingly effective and
well-constructed work, is followed by Liszt’s arrangement of Isoldens Liebestod, and then by Liszt’s Seven brilliant variations on a theme by
Rossini, which quickly transports this recital from tender lugubriousness
to bright virtuosity and display. The choice and sequencing of pieces are
quirky but effective: the Rossini variations are followed by Liszt’s Nostalgic Waltz after Schubert, then by
Rossini’s short Une caresse à ma femme; then
it is back to Liszt for Li Marinari,
a “tempest duet” (more accurately, in terms of its mood, “after the tempest,”
originally for tenor and bass) that is again based on Rossini, followed by
Liszt’s R.W.—Venezia. Then comes
another Rossini curiosity, his Valse
lugubre – which is succeeded by and very interestingly contrasted with
Liszt’s La lugubre Gondola No. 1. And then Avenhaus caps the recital with the
“Dante” sonata, whose scope and seriousness dwarf everything that has come
before, even Wagner’s sonata. The works
chosen here, and the order in which they appear, are unusual and may even be
off-putting to some listeners in their mood changes and swoops from seriousness
to lightheartedness and back. Certainly this is a highly personal CD,
expressive of Avenhaus’ tastes in music and her interests in particular
composers and types of piano music. It
is, in the final analysis, her extraordinarily fine, nuanced playing of all the
pieces – however greatly they differ – that pulls the disc together and makes
it so worthwhile.
Emanuel Ax’s pianism is equally fine, although very
different stylistically, as is the program he offers on his new Sony CD. Ax is a considerable stylist who, at age 63,
is long past having anything to prove about his technique or musicality, both
of which are top-notch. Yet he continues
to explore new repertoire: he has only recently started performing Schumann’s Symphonic Études, to which he gives a sensitive,
carefully balanced and highly effective reading on this disc (whose sole
significant flaw is that it is somewhat too brightly recorded). Ax is clearly a fan and advocate of the
variation form, and does an excellent job of showing the ways in which all the
composers here alter, reuse and rearrange their thematic material. Beethoven’s monumental “Eroica” variations
bring out all Ax’s grandeur of style and temperamental enthusiasm, which
complement those of Beethoven very well indeed, as Ax shapes each individual
variation to excellent effect while still building the set toward the highly
impressive and extended concluding fugue.
And Ax does not give short shrift to Haydn’s variations, either: they
are on a smaller scale than the Beethoven and Schumann works but are hardly
less inventive, including some fascinating thematic exploration that listeners
may be surprised to find in Haydn and that Ax explores fully – but carefully,
with awareness of but without undue emphasis on the contrast between the
composer’s choice of F minor as a key and his repeated use of an unexpected
G-flat-major chord. Variations tend to
attract less attention from pianists than do sonatas, but Ax here shows that
whether they are familiar or not, they can be considerable pieces in their own
right and highly worthy of the attention and the excellent interpretations that
he gives them.
The familiar and
unfamiliar elements of Annelies by
James Whitbourn (born 1963) are different from those on the other discs
considered here. What is well-known here is extramusical: The Diary of Anne Frank, which forms the basis for Melanie
Challenger’s libretto. Whitbourn’s music, however – whose chamber version here
receives its world première
recording – will be unknown to almost everyone who hears this Naxos CD. It
deserves to become much more familiar, though, because it not only bears
witness to a now-familiar tale that has new resonance with every news story of
hatred, intolerance and mass murder, but also is highly expressive in its own
right. Whitbourn uses the communicative
techniques of both the 19th and 20th century in this piece,
which he arranged in 2009 from his original, more extensively scored version.
The chamber form of Annelies (whose
title is Anne Frank’s full, rarely heard first name) uses the same complement
of singers but reduces the accompaniment to the same instruments used by
Olivier Messiaen when he wrote Quatuor
pour la fin du temps in a prisoner-of-war camp: piano, violin, cello and
clarinet. This arrangement deepens the
resonance of Annelies, in which
Challenger draws on Anne’s actual words, which are not heard as often as people
may believe – interpretations and paraphrases are more common. Yet none of the thinking behind Annelies, none of the connections, would
have much meaning if the work itself did not communicate immediately and
effectively with an audience unaware of what went into creating it. But it does communicate, viscerally and
emotionally and with strength and understated heartbreak, not only for Anne
Frank but also for all the victims, young and old, of so many wars and so many
other acts of violence over the years and right up to the present day. Annelies
is essentially a choral work that is not an opera or cantata, yet not really a
song cycle, either. It is more a
meditation on the events that trapped and eventually doomed Anne (its final
section is called “Anne’s meditation”); and, through Anne’s words, it becomes a
musical thought piece about so much that is evil in the world, and so much that
is good and that somehow survives even when the good people themselves do
not. Whitbourn has here created a work
that is for our time as much as for Anne’s – and is likely, perhaps
unfortunately, to have continued resonance in times to come, since humanity
shows few signs of moving beyond the sort of thinking that caught Anne and
imprinted her memory so painfully on so many who never met her.
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