October 01, 2026

(++++) PERSONAL TRIBUTES

Suppé: Fantasia symphonica; Spanish Dances. Brandenburgisches Staatsorchester Frankfurt conducted by Ernst Theis. CPO. $18.99. 

Heartstrings: Music for Violin and Piano. Sonia Lee, violin; Benjamin Loeb, piano. Studio 7 Classical. $7.99. 

     Known for one thing but surprisingly adept in another, Franz von Suppé and Duke Ernst II of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha (1818-1893) seem a decidedly odd pair to mention in the same breath. But then, so do the words “Suppé” and “symphonist.” Yet Suppé – known almost solely as a composer of operettas, or more precisely of operetta overtures (since the stage works themselves are now so rarely performed) – in fact produced a very well-wrought symphony that receives a striking and highly effective performance by the Brandenburgisches Staatsorchester Frankfurt under Ernst Theis on a new CPO release. And this work of symphonic scope is tied directly to Ernst II’s own not-inconsiderable talent as a composer. The full title of Suppé’s work helps explain the tie-in: Fantasia symphonica über Themen von Ernst von Sachsen-Coburg. The duke – brother to Prince Albert, the consort of Britain’s Queen Victoria – composed no fewer than five grand operas between 1846 and 1858: Zaïre; Tony, der Wildschütz, oder Die Vergeltung; Casilda; Santa Chiara; and Diana von Solange. It was for an 1860 concert honoring Duke Ernst II that Suppé composed the Fantasia symphonica, which he built almost entirely from themes taken from the duke’s operas – and carefully avoided labeling a symphony. Nevertheless, the work shows Suppé’s considerable abilities in symphonic form as well as the politically adept Ernst II’s skill at creating memorable themes. In the traditional four movements, the Fantasia symphonica progresses from an extended, dramatic opening movement to an Andante con moto that makes no pretense of depth but is filled with lyricism and clever connections among themes from different works. Then there is a lilting, songlike Allegro scherzoso third movement, followed by a finale whose contrast between intense drama and soulfulness Suppé explores and enhances thoroughly skillfully – right up until the final two minutes of the work, which alone descend into hagiography by the sudden introduction of a host of percussion instruments that help produce a tub-thumping conclusion indicative of the occasional nature of the Fantasia symphonica as a whole. Well, it was created as a celebration of the duke, after all. And it is worth noting that Suppé was scarcely the only composer involved with and impressed by Ernst II’s musical endeavors: Franz Liszt, no less, conducted the première of Tony, der Wildschütz, oder Die Vergeltung, and arranged some of its themes for piano; he also wrote an orchestral march using themes from Diana von Solange. So Suppé was in good company. He also turns out to have had a little-known flair for disarmingly bouncy characteristic pieces outside the realm of operetta, as is shown by the two sets of Spanish Dances also conducted enthusiastically by Theis. There are five of them in a set called La Valencia and seven in one titled La Granadina, and all sport suitable Spanish colors and effective orchestration and presentation in the mode of Brahms’ Hungarian Dances. All these Suppé dances are short, from less than one minute to two-and-a-half, and all sustain their bounce and rhythmic vitality with apparent effortlessness – in which respect they reflect the characteristics that are so attractive in Suppé’s operettas and overtures. 

     The primary characteristics of the 12 short works offered by Sonia Lee and Benjamin Loeb on a CD from Studio 7 Classical are gentleness, quiet and moderate pace. Indeed, a feeling of moderation pervades even the somewhat quicker pieces, such as Fritz Kreisler’s Liebesleid (“Love’s Sorrow,” here wrongly listed as Liebeslied, “Love Song”). It is only in the final Czardas by Vittorio Monti that the pace really picks up – too late to balance the overall feeling of a soporific compilation. There is an extramusical reason for the disc’s content and structure, of course: the performers’ (particularly Lee’s) desire to emphasize the spiritual quality of classical music in a world where spirituality now seems in distressingly short supply. This is all well and good, even admirable, and all the playing is sensitive and nicely fitted to the emotive qualities of these brief works. Even the inclusion of one vocal piece (Morgen! Op. 27, No. 4, by Richard Strauss, sung by soprano Allison Charney) reinforces the overall sweetness of this hour-long recital. But an hour is long for so much material with so much the same ambience: given that the recording is intended to convey meaning through attentive listening, and not to be regarded as background music, it does not really produce its wished-for uplifting effect. The disparate works are all handled with the same level of involvement, whatever their historic period and original context, and it is a bit jarring from a strictly musical standpoint to hear similar approaches to Bach’s Arioso from Cantata No. 156, Elgar’s Salut d’Amour, and Jessie Montgomery’s Peace. The remaining works here are Massenet’s Meditation from Thaïs, Tchaikovsky’s Canzonetta from his violin concerto, an Ave Maria combining elements of Gounod and Bach, Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise from his 14 Romances, William Grant Still’s Mother and Child, and John Williams’ Theme from “Schindler’s List.” For delicacy and largely surface-level warmth, most of these seem well-nigh inevitable; whether or not they convey the intended spiritual and emotional uplift that Lee and Loeb are seeking is very much a matter of opinion. The disc also has some curiosities of presentation, including the complete absence of timings for the individual tracks and booklet notes that discuss only nine of the 12 included pieces. As a result, the whole project has something of a slipshod feeling about it, which can scarcely be the intent. The inherent beauty of the material, and the very fine playing by both Lee and Loeb, result in a (+++) rating for a recording that is considerably more monochromatic than is classical music in general – and one that, however worthy its aim of counterbalancing the mean-spiritedness and technological aridity of modern life, is too surface-level and bland (as a totality rather than in terms of any individual piece) to be effective in conveying its message of the value of evocative musical expressiveness.

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