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Gramophone Awards Shortlist 2016 Dvo∑ák Violin Concerto – selected comparison: Faust, Prague Philh, B∆lohlávek (11/04) (HARM) HMC90 1833 Martinů Rhapsody-Concerto, H337a. Three Madrigals (Duo No 1), H313b. Duo No 2, H331b. Viola Sonata, H355c Maxim Rysanov va b Alexander Sitkovetsky vn cKatya Apekisheva pf a BBC Symphony Orchestra / Jiří Bělohlávek BIS F Í BIS2030 (68’ • DDD/DSD) The viola player Maxim Rysanov is the star attraction in this collection of music from Martin≤’s last years, during which he was on the move more than once from the United States to Europe. In 1952 he was commissioned by the Principal Viola of Szell’s Cleveland Orchestra to write a Rhapsody-Concerto in two movements, a form he favoured, and one that liberated him from more conventional structures towards ‘fantasy’, to coin his own word. Within all four works there’s often a note of poignant nostalgia as the composer casts a backwards look to his Bohemian roots. The Rhapsody-Concerto opens in such a vein, with a lyrical string theme that returns in various guises. Rysanov plays it with great expression and there’s a spring in his step in the succeeding dance-like episodes. The slow movement follows a similar pattern, its difficulties tossed off by the soloist, the conclusion with viola against side drum a fond farewell. The remainder of the programme was recorded at Potton Hall. Three Madrigals finds Rysanov and violinist Alexander Sitkovetsky equal partners in this inventive and engaging work. Rustic Bohemian sounds dominate the lyrical first movement of the Duo No 2, complementing the introspective slow movement before spirits are lifted in a dashingly played finale. The Viola Sonata, with Katya Apekisheva in strong support, is the most discursive of the pieces here but she and Rysanov have the measure of it. That distinctive measured dance tune at 1’44” which returns as the first movement’s coda is pure magic in their hands. A Martin≤ CD to play again and again. Adrian Edwards Rachmaninov . Trifonov Rachmaninov Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op 43a. Variations on a Theme of Chopin, Op 22. Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Op 42 Trifonov Rachmaniana Daniil Trifonov pf a Philadelphia Orchestra / Yannick Nézet-Séguin DG F 479 4970GH (79’ • DDD) The opening bars tell you this is going to be a good ‘Pag Rhap’. As things turn out, it is a great one, clearly up there with the very best. That includes the indispensable benchmark recording with the composer and the same orchestra made in 1934, just six weeks after they had given the premiere under Leopold Stokowski. Let’s deal first with DG’s sound: in the Rhapsody it is sumptuous, full-bodied and realistic, with a near-perfect balance between piano and orchestra. The Philadelphia’s silky strings and characterful woodwind are a joy, while the percussion department is suitably punchy without being overcooked. The tempo relationships between each variation strike me as ideal and the tricky moments of co‑ordination (Var 9, for example) are delivered with spot-on rhythmic precision. Between the hijinks and dashing passagework there is time aplenty to relax: the cellos’ entry in No 12, Tempo di minuetto, is simply gorgeous, but even better is the heart-melting transition from the end of Var 17 into the famous Var 18, no stand-alone piece here but fully integrated into the musical narrative. While Trifonov revels in the pianistic gymnastics, he is also alert to the moments of mischief, such as the dying phrase that precedes Var 24, arguably the most technically challenging of the variations – and with what exemplary clarity he handles it. I should like to have heard a more gleeful glissando whooping up to the top of the keyboard to launch into the final page, but it hardly matters when being swept along to the work’s tumultuous and inexorable conclusion – inexorable, that is, but for the cheeky two final bars, perfectly timed and graded by this partnership. Trifonov and Nézet-Séguin do seem genuinely to be a meeting of musical minds. The remainder of the disc is given over to solo works, recorded in New York rather than in Philadelphia, but with the same opulent piano tone and natural acoustic. Rachmaninov’s Variations pour le piano sur un thème de F Chopin (dedicated to Leschetizky) was his first 20th-century solo composition for his own instrument. The theme is the C minor Prelude, Op 28 No 20, presented by Rachmaninov in abbreviated form. You would not be alone in thinking that this wonderfully imaginative work tends to sprawl over its 22 variations. Rachmaninov himself thought so and intended to issue the work in a shortened version but never did. Trifonov offers his own solution by conflating Var 10 with the latter part of Var 12 and dropping Var 11 altogether. Those who insist on the complete score will demur but, personally, I think this is a beneficial (and seamless) cut – and rather clever. Furthermore, he cuts Vars 18 and 19 (no great loss in my opinion) and doesn’t take the repeat in Var 22. Trifonov also provides his own alternative ending, cutting (as most do) the superfluous presto final page and inserting a reprise of the original theme, but with Chopin’s dynamics inverted: thus Var 22’s pp conclusion merges into the opening bars of the Prelude at pp, building to an ff ending. For me, this is the most convincing realisation of Rachmaninov’s Op 22 I have yet heard. At its heart is Var 16, surely one of the composer’s greatest melodic inspirations, on a par with the Paganini Var 28 (and recorded as such many years ago in a lush piano-andorchestra arrangement by Semprini). Avoiding the temptation of saccharine melancholy, Trifonov plays this, sans rubato, with exquisite tenderness. If this variation can be seen as a forerunner of the homesick Rachmaninov, it is the same emotion that inspired Trifonov’s own eponymous suite of five short movements. ‘I had been in the US for two or three months, I was 18 years old, away from my parents for the first time, so far from home,’ he confesses in the booklet. Expressing his nostalgia for his roots, Rachmaniana is ‘a kind of homage to Rachmaninov’ who, like Trifonov, had made a home in the New World. While there are recognisable references to and figurations borrowed from various Preludes and Etudestableaux (not to mention the inevitable bells!), the writing rises above mere pastiche into a highly effective recital piece. Finally, there are the Variations on a Theme of Corelli (without any textual interventions), a performance on a par with that of the Chopin Variations. In a work that can become unduly sombre (Richard Farrell – Atoll, 1/11) or dry and detached (Nikolai Lugansky, glassytoned, in the same programme minus, of course, Rachmaniana – Warner, 12/04), Trifonov shapes the 20 brief separate entries into a satisfying whole, revealing the richness and fertility of Rachmaninov’s invention. While I still admire André Watts’s assertive account from 1968 (Philips, 8/99 – listen to his fiery Intermezzo), the young Russian is a more beguiling, lyrical companion. Jeremy Nicholas 20 GRAMOPHONE AWARDS 2016 gramophone.co.uk
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Click on a CD cover to buy or stream from qobuz.com Contemporary Gramophone Awards Shortlist 2016 Abrahamsen let me tell you Barbara Hannigan sop Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra / Andris Nelsons Winter & Winter F 910 232-2; F 6 917 232-1 (33’ • DDD • T) Hans Abrahamsen and Paul Griffiths’s let me tell you, winner of both a Grawemeyer and an RPS award, is inspired by Hamlet’s Ophelia and it is a richly theatrical journey. Yet that is not because it attempts to depict Shakespeare’s heroine as she is traditionally understood. Instead Griffiths distilled his text for these seven interlinked songs from his novel of the same name, which (almost literally) rebuilt Ophelia as a narrator using only the words Shakespeare gave her, reordered and repeated as Griffiths saw fit. As this filtration process is itself worked through Abrahamsen’s half-hour score, however, the idea has undergone another transformation. The spare yet pregnant lines of text meet Abrahamsen’s finely spun textures and each word feels felt and weighed in music. Possibly you don’t even need to know that Barbara Hannigan is singing Ophelia’s words any more, yet her vehemence and passion suggest she thinks justice is finally being done to a woman who never did get much chance to tell her side of the story. Hannigan premiered the piece in 2013 (then it was performed by the Berlin Philharmonic under Andris Nelsons; now the Latvian has recorded it with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra) and had reportedly coached the composer on the intricacies of vocal music for what was his first sung work. One imagines these sessions produced the use of stile concitato emphases on repeated syllables, a flick of Monteverdi added to a more usual Hannigan repertoire of jarring leaps and plunges across her formidable range. Alongside this, the Danish composer’s sound world is a mass of glinting detail. There are prominent parts for glockenspiel (struck and bowed), celesta and vibraphone, and ear-tickling swerves between microtonal clusters and more recognisable Romantic echoes. To the line ‘A robin will tune his bells’, in the vast fifth song, there is a ravishing blur of downward lines, and if it does sound like (rather psychedelic) ringing, by the time the verse reaches its end – ‘glass in which there are showers of light’ – the music cracks into a myriad of colours, as if refracted from a broken shard. The Bard’s Ophelia drowned in the brook; this one wanders into the snow, her tread hypnotically evoked by paper softly rubbed around the skin of a bass drum. It’s a tiny, tragic Winterreise, but its final sung echoes are defiant: ‘I will go on’. The rest is silence. Neil Fisher J Anderson In lieblicher Bläuea. Alleluiab. The Stations of the Sunc aCarolin Widmann vn London Philharmonic b Choir and Orchestra / Vladimir Jurowski LPO M LPO0089 (54’ • DDD • T/t) Recorded live at the Royal Festival Hall, London, c December 7, 2013, bMarch 1, 2014, aMarch 14, 2015 This is the fourth disc to be devoted exclusively to the music of Julian Anderson and the second such venture on the LPO’s own label, reflecting his stint as Composer in Residence with the orchestra, 2010-14. Intriguing as it is, I’m not sure newcomers would be best advised to start with In lieblicher Bläue (2014-15), which contains some spatial and symbolic elements not readily perceptible in audio format. Carolin Widmann’s physical location and posture change throughout. At one point a vaguely Schnittke-like gesture requires the soloist to lay down the bow and play using a pencil. While the composer’s lucid explanatory note survives inept editing, those familiar with Friedrich Hölderlin’s late prose-poem may have a head start in appreciating music at once lyrical and beautifully voiced but elusive by design in its troubled search for identity. There is more concerto-like display in the companion pieces. The joyous Alleluia, commissioned for the reopening of the Royal Festival Hall following its refurbishment in 2007, was originally programmed as an up‑beat to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and makes memorable and idiomatic use of the London Philharmonic Choir, with whom the composer himself has sung. The writing is characteristic in its insistent mix of glitter and grit, new (American) colours added to an eclectic pick of the 20th-century bran tub. Homegrown influences are more strongly felt in The Stations of the Sun (1998), a ‘carillonading and tumultuous’ yet emotionally engaging Proms commission of which composer-conductor Oliver Knussen made the first studio recording some years ago. The two share a fondness for skirling woodwind and meaningful harmonic movement. If Vladimir Jurowski’s punchy performances were indeed captured live with only minimal patching, they are all three remarkably accomplished. Applause has been expunged and the sound is good too. David Gutman Birtwistle Birtwistle Angel Fightera. In Broken Images. Virelai (Sus une fontayne) a Andrew Watts counterten aJeffrey LloydRoberts ten aBBC Singers; London Sinfonietta / David Atherton NMC F NMCD211 (54’ • DDD • T) As co-founder of the London Sinfonietta in 1968, David Atherton has been responsible for several Birtwistle premieres down the decades: his first was the English Opera Group production of Punch and Judy, just as the Sinfonietta was being set up. Now, more than 40 years on, they and Atherton return with a group of recent Birtwistle scores; and anyone in 2015 disposed to expect ageing dinosaurs going through the motions should be struck by the energy and sharpness of response in these recordings. Sharpness – remaining consistent without falling back into cliché – is also what Birtwistle’s music is about. The poem by Robert Graves that lies behind In Broken Images refers disarmingly to ‘a new understanding of my confusion’ as a result of becoming ‘sharp, mistrusting my broken images’, and Birtwistle’s music today is just as lacking in complacency as it was in 1968. Angel Fighter starts with the advantage of a pithy text by Stephen Plaice, librettist of The Io Passion, and this ‘dramatic episode from Genesis’ depicts the brutal confrontation between a human sinner, Jacob (tenor), and an implacably euphonious angel (countertenor). The moral, for a secular gramophone.co.uk GRAMOPHONE AWards 2016 21

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Gramophone Awards Shortlist 2016

Dvo∑ák Violin Concerto – selected comparison: Faust, Prague Philh, B∆lohlávek (11/04) (HARM) HMC90 1833

Martinů Rhapsody-Concerto, H337a. Three Madrigals (Duo No 1), H313b. Duo No 2, H331b. Viola Sonata, H355c Maxim Rysanov va b Alexander Sitkovetsky vn cKatya Apekisheva pf a BBC Symphony Orchestra / Jiří Bělohlávek BIS F Í BIS2030 (68’ • DDD/DSD)

The viola player Maxim Rysanov is the star attraction in this collection of music from Martin≤’s last years, during which he was on the move more than once from the United States to Europe. In 1952 he was commissioned by the Principal Viola of Szell’s Cleveland Orchestra to write a Rhapsody-Concerto in two movements, a form he favoured, and one that liberated him from more conventional structures towards ‘fantasy’, to coin his own word. Within all four works there’s often a note of poignant nostalgia as the composer casts a backwards look to his Bohemian roots. The Rhapsody-Concerto opens in such a vein, with a lyrical string theme that returns in various guises. Rysanov plays it with great expression and there’s a spring in his step in the succeeding dance-like episodes. The slow movement follows a similar pattern, its difficulties tossed off by the soloist, the conclusion with viola against side drum a fond farewell.

The remainder of the programme was recorded at Potton Hall. Three Madrigals finds Rysanov and violinist Alexander Sitkovetsky equal partners in this inventive and engaging work. Rustic Bohemian sounds dominate the lyrical first movement of the Duo No 2, complementing the introspective slow movement before spirits are lifted in a dashingly played finale. The Viola Sonata, with Katya Apekisheva in strong support, is the most discursive of the pieces here but she and Rysanov have the measure of it. That distinctive measured dance tune at 1’44” which returns as the first movement’s coda is pure magic in their hands. A Martin≤ CD to play again and again. Adrian Edwards

Rachmaninov . Trifonov Rachmaninov Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op 43a. Variations on a Theme of Chopin, Op 22. Variations on a Theme of Corelli,

Op 42 Trifonov Rachmaniana Daniil Trifonov pf a Philadelphia Orchestra / Yannick Nézet-Séguin DG F 479 4970GH (79’ • DDD)

The opening bars tell you this is going to be a good ‘Pag Rhap’. As things turn out, it is a great one, clearly up there with the very best. That includes the indispensable benchmark recording with the composer and the same orchestra made in 1934, just six weeks after they had given the premiere under Leopold Stokowski. Let’s deal first with DG’s sound: in the Rhapsody it is sumptuous, full-bodied and realistic, with a near-perfect balance between piano and orchestra. The Philadelphia’s silky strings and characterful woodwind are a joy, while the percussion department is suitably punchy without being overcooked.

The tempo relationships between each variation strike me as ideal and the tricky moments of co‑ordination (Var 9, for example) are delivered with spot-on rhythmic precision. Between the hijinks and dashing passagework there is time aplenty to relax: the cellos’ entry in No 12, Tempo di minuetto, is simply gorgeous, but even better is the heart-melting transition from the end of Var 17 into the famous Var 18, no stand-alone piece here but fully integrated into the musical narrative. While Trifonov revels in the pianistic gymnastics, he is also alert to the moments of mischief, such as the dying phrase that precedes Var 24, arguably the most technically challenging of the variations – and with what exemplary clarity he handles it. I should like to have heard a more gleeful glissando whooping up to the top of the keyboard to launch into the final page, but it hardly matters when being swept along to the work’s tumultuous and inexorable conclusion – inexorable, that is, but for the cheeky two final bars, perfectly timed and graded by this partnership. Trifonov and Nézet-Séguin do seem genuinely to be a meeting of musical minds.

The remainder of the disc is given over to solo works, recorded in New York rather than in Philadelphia, but with the same opulent piano tone and natural acoustic. Rachmaninov’s Variations pour le piano sur un thème de F Chopin (dedicated to Leschetizky) was his first 20th-century solo composition for his own instrument. The theme is the C minor Prelude, Op 28 No 20, presented by Rachmaninov in abbreviated form. You would not be alone in thinking that this wonderfully imaginative work tends to sprawl over its 22 variations. Rachmaninov himself thought so and intended to issue the work in a shortened version but never did. Trifonov offers his own solution by conflating Var 10 with the latter part of Var 12 and dropping Var 11 altogether. Those who insist on the complete score will demur but, personally, I think this is a beneficial (and seamless) cut – and rather clever. Furthermore, he cuts Vars 18 and 19 (no great loss in my opinion) and doesn’t take the repeat in Var 22. Trifonov also provides his own alternative ending, cutting (as most do) the superfluous presto final page and inserting a reprise of the original theme, but with Chopin’s dynamics inverted: thus Var 22’s pp conclusion merges into the opening bars of the Prelude at pp, building to an ff ending. For me, this is the most convincing realisation of Rachmaninov’s Op 22 I have yet heard. At its heart is Var 16, surely one of the composer’s greatest melodic inspirations, on a par with the Paganini Var 28 (and recorded as such many years ago in a lush piano-andorchestra arrangement by Semprini). Avoiding the temptation of saccharine melancholy, Trifonov plays this, sans rubato, with exquisite tenderness.

If this variation can be seen as a forerunner of the homesick Rachmaninov, it is the same emotion that inspired Trifonov’s own eponymous suite of five short movements. ‘I had been in the US for two or three months, I was 18 years old, away from my parents for the first time, so far from home,’ he confesses in the booklet. Expressing his nostalgia for his roots, Rachmaniana is ‘a kind of homage to Rachmaninov’ who, like Trifonov, had made a home in the New World. While there are recognisable references to and figurations borrowed from various Preludes and Etudestableaux (not to mention the inevitable bells!), the writing rises above mere pastiche into a highly effective recital piece.

Finally, there are the Variations on a Theme of Corelli (without any textual interventions), a performance on a par with that of the Chopin Variations. In a work that can become unduly sombre (Richard Farrell – Atoll, 1/11) or dry and detached (Nikolai Lugansky, glassytoned, in the same programme minus, of course, Rachmaniana – Warner, 12/04), Trifonov shapes the 20 brief separate entries into a satisfying whole, revealing the richness and fertility of Rachmaninov’s invention. While I still admire André Watts’s assertive account from 1968 (Philips, 8/99 – listen to his fiery Intermezzo), the young Russian is a more beguiling, lyrical companion. Jeremy Nicholas

20 GRAMOPHONE AWARDS 2016

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