Classical CD Reviews

New classical music releases reviewed in detail by Gavin Dixon

Wednesday, 25 April 2018

Schnittke Psalms of Repentance Putniņš Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir



Schnittke: Psalms of Repentance
Pärt: Magnificat and Nunc dimittis
Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir
Kaspars Putniņš, cond.
BIS 2292 (SACD: 59:51)





Schnittke’s Psalms of Repentance were written to commemorate the millennium of Christianity in Russia, celebrated in 1988. The work is for unaccompanied mixed chorus and sets 16th-century texts, anonymous poems on religious themes (not psalms as such, the Russian ‘Stikhi’ translates better as ‘Poems’ or ‘Verses’). Most of the texts are abstract Lenten reflections on the subject of penitence, although scenes from the Garden of Eden are evoked, and the text of the Sixth Psalm relates the fate of Boris and Gelb, the sons of Grand Prince Vladimir, who were murdered in 1015. The baptism of Vladimir in 988 is the event that the millennium celebrations commemorated, and Boris and Gelb became the first martyrs of the Russian Orthodox Church. The music has a quasi-liturgical character, drawing on the spirit and style of Orthodox music, but the harmonies are more advanced, making this a thoroughly modern setting.
This new recording from Kaspars Putniņš and the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir is outstanding, and easily the best version on the market. But before continuing with my rave, I should declare an interest: I wrote the liner note, though beyond receiving a first edit prior to release I had no further involvement in the recording itself (the booklet is available online at https://www.chandos.net/chanimages/Booklets/BI2292.pdf). Putniņš takes an austere approach to the music, with most of the movements timing faster than the competition (though the differences are slight), but also shapes the music subtly around the formant and meaning of the texts. This is ideal for projecting the quasi-liturgical atmosphere—both reverent and passionate, but with emotional intensity at the climaxes, though even here the restraint is always felt. The sheer precision of the choral singing also elevates this version above the competition: The music is very hard to sing, but never seems so here.
The recording too is excellent. It was made in St. Nicholas’s Church in Tallinn, a relatively large Protestant church with a very high ceiling. The acoustic is ideal, as is demonstrated by the venue’s regular use as a concert hall. Here, it gives the choir a warmth but without detracting from the detail of the harmonic voicing (there is little counterpoint). BIS provides surround sound that is more interrogative than immersing, but this complements the warmth of the choir, and the results never feel dry.
This is now the fifth commercial recording of Psalms of Repentance. The premiere recording was made by Stefan Parkman and the Danish National Radio Choir in 1996 (CHANDOS 9480). I haven’t heard that, but it was well received at the time. Next came the Swedish Radio Choir under Tõnu Kaljuste (ECM 453 513-2), until now my preferred version. Kaljuste is more expansive than Putniņš, balancing the singing more towards expression than devotion. But Putniņš shows that the music can be just as effective within narrower interpretive constraints, and also has the key advantages of better singing and better audio. Since Kaljuste, two German radio choirs have recorded the work: the SWR Vokalensemble Stuttgart under Marcus Creed (Hänssler 93.281—like this, in SACD) and the RIAS Kammerchor under Hans-Christoph Rademann (Harmonia Mundi 902225). Neither choir gets to the Slavic heart of the music the way that the Swedes and the Estonians do, nor are either of these choirs as well disciplined. (As an aside, Rademann writes in his notes that the performance directions in the published score, the breaths, dynamics, and articulations, are editorial: They were added by Viktor Suslin at the behest of the publishers. So Rademann ignores these, interpreting the work more intuitively. The result is a greater sense of continuity, with few sudden dynamic changes, but the differences are very slight.)
Putniņš has an additional advantage in recording the work in a church acoustic, where all the other versions are made in studios with digital reverb added. The reverb on the SWR recording is particularly detrimental, but none of the other versions I’ve heard give the natural warmth afforded by Tallinn church.
As a filler, Putniņš includes the Magnificat and Nunc dimittis by Arvo Pärt. This is simpler and more consonant music than Schnittke’s, but it fits the mood of the Psalms of Repentance perfectly. Schnittke’s final movement is a wordless bocca chiusa lament—a beautifully atmospheric ending and a very hard act to follow. Pärt’s straightforward textures don’t really compete, instead bringing the listener gently back down to Earth. An excellent recording, then, and for the foreseeable future the clear favorite for Schnittke’s masterly setting.


This review appears in Fanfare magazine issue 41:6.

Monday, 23 April 2018

Mahler Symphony No. 6 Vänskä Minnesota Orchestra


Mahler Symphony No. 6
Osmo Vänskä
Minnesota Orchestra
BIS 2266 (SACD: 86:16)


This is the second release in Osmo Vänskä’s Mahler cycle for BIS, following a well-received Fifth Symphony last year. It’s a crowded field, of course, but Vänskä has a distinctive take. He also has the benefits of a world-class ensemble in the Minnesota Orchestra and exceptionally fine audio from BIS, both key attributes for any Mahler recording. His slow tempos won’t suit every taste though, suggesting a mixed reception.
At 86:16, this is one of the slowest versions on record—a cursory scan through the catalog brings up Rattle’s 1991 version (EMI 54047) at exactly the same timing (though with a longer first movement and shorter Finale), but most other versions at least five minutes shorter. (That timing also makes this one of the longest-running discs in the catalog too.) Mahler gives no metronome markings, but he clearly expects plenty of rubato, and Vänskä’s phrasing never feels square. The outer movements are furthest from the norm, but neither feels any more weighty or monumental for the slower speeds. Instead, Vänskä uses the space to focus on the details of counterpoint and orchestration, all of which come through with spectacular clarity. The second subject “Alma” theme of the first movement is indicated A Tempo, but here it is significantly faster than the main theme.
The inner movements are ordered Andante-Scherzo, which is my preference (and Mahler’s too, I’d tentatively argue), and both are more conventional with regard to tempos, timing in at 16:10 and 13:18 respectively. The Andante is characterized by gorgeous solos from the English and French horns, while the Scherzo has the appropriate weight, though without Vänskä really emphasizing the lower end of the orchestra.
The slow tempos of the Finale (31:42) rob the music of some urgency, but allow Vänskä to make marked contrasts between the steady primary themes and the much faster and more frenetic intervening episodes. But even right up to the end, the basic tempo remains steady, giving a greater sense of finality to the closing chords and percussion outbursts, even if the line of argument that they conclude by then seems very slender indeed.
As mentioned, the Minnesota Orchestra, playing at their best and recorded by BIS in exceptional SACD surround, makes for a superior audio experience. On my setup, the focus of the orchestral tone is weighted to the center channel—that’s where you’ll hear all of the percussion and brass (even the tuba solo) and most of the woodwind. But it’s still an immersive experience. The sheer clarity of the orchestral detail is extraordinary: Every note of the celesta part, from example, is easily audible. That alone ought to make this release recommendable, though listeners who like a bit more urgency in their Mahler should probably look elsewhere.

This review appears in Fanfare magazine issue 41:6.

Wednesday, 28 March 2018

Hermann Reutter Chamber Music Lieder Piano Works


REUTTER Violin Sonata. 4 Lieder nach Gedichten von Friedrich Rückert, op. 54. Tanz-Suite, op. 29. 3 Gesänge nach Texten von Friedrich Hölderlin, op. 56. Epitaph für Ophelia
Maria-Elisabeth Lott (vn)
Andreas Beinhauer (bar)
Sontraud Speidel, Anna Beinhauer (pn)
Capriccio 5336 (73:33)


Hermann Reutter (1900–1985) is all but forgotten today, but he was an important figure in German music before, during, and after World War II. He was born in Stuttgart, and spent much of his career as Rector of the city’s State University for Music and the Performing Arts. As well as a teacher and composer, he was active as a Lieder accompanist, and songs in the tradition of Schumann and Brahms make up a large part of his output. The singers he accompanied included Hermann Prey and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, and their recordings of his works make up the majority of his available catalog today. But he was prolific in a variety of genres, especially orchestral music and opera, and on the strength of this disc of songs and chamber music, there are many fine works out there awaiting rediscovery.
One possible reason for Reutter’s recent neglect was his relationship with the Nazis. He was a member of the party from 1933, but that didn’t stop some of his music from being denounced as “degenerate,” in particular his choral work Der neue Hiob, op. 37, which featured in the Düsseldorf Entartete Musik exhibition and was described by Goebbels as “horrible and unbearable.” But none of this seems to have affected his career, which spanned the 20th century, as demonstrated here with works ranging from 1926 (the Violin Sonata) to 1979 (Epitaph for Ophelia).
By post-war standards, Reutter’s music is conservative, but he has a distinctive voice, combining Romantic and Modernist influences. The two song cycles here, both from the war years, are in a German Romantic vein, the textures more open than Pfitzner or Reger, but otherwise of that school. The two violin works are more progressive, with the early Violin Sonata in particular showing influence from Bartók and Stravinsky. The bare, open octaves that open the work almost sound like Ligeti, although the music soon settles into a more melodic style, albeit always angular and cleanly delineated. The Dance Suite was written in 1928 to a commission from Schott (the publisher was loyal to the composer throughout his life, and remains so today). They are pedagogical piano works, but with a twist, designed to introduce young players to modern styles. So the dance movements include a “Valse Boston” and a “Shimmy.” Unfortunately, the music here is surprisingly derivative, those two movements closely resembling Debussy’s “Voiles” and “Golliwog’s Cakewalk” respectively, and the preceding “Spanischer Tanz” almost a pastiche on Chopin.
But elsewhere the music is more distinctive. The Epitaph for Ophelia is a freely ranging discourse on grief and despair. It is written for violin and piano (arranged from a chamber orchestra accompaniment), but for much of the work the violin plays alone, and the results are intimate and elegiac. In the song cycles, too, Reutter is clearly in his element. His experience as an accompanist shows in the restrained but effective colors and textures of the piano parts, and the vocal lines are all carefully but naturally calibrated to the cadence of the words, by Rückert and Hölderlin.
Texts and translations are included, but even listeners with only a basic grasp of German are likely to pick up much of the text, such is the clarity of the settings and the elegance of the presentation. Baritone Andreas Beinhauer is ideal for this music, clear, rich, and emotive; a worthy successor to Fischer-Dieskau who previously popularized this music. Violinist Maria-Elisabeth Lott also excels, her sound tactile and immediate in the sonata, but floating and ethereal in the Epitaph. Good pianists too, although Reutter’s reticence in his piano writing means that both have to make much out of often spare textures. The warm soundscape helps, in well-engineered studio recordings.
Another engaging and adventurous release, then, from the Capriccio label, and a tantalizing glimpse of a huge catalog as yet to be explored.

This review appears in Fanfare magazine, issue 41:6.