All the music on this Naxos release by violinist Reto Kuppel and pianist Wolfgang Manz receives its world premiere here. Pauline Viardot (1821-1910) was known mostly as a singer and hardly at all as a composer, and the music of her son, Paul Viardot, was conservative even in his youth. This all might seem pretty obscure, but the truth of the matter is that the program has a good deal of freshness and charm. Start right in with the biggest surprise of all, the Violin Sonatina in A minor of Pauline, whom Liszt admired.
“Salon music” became a thing in 19th-century Europe, dominated by piano works, for the obvious reason that the piano was the dominant piece of furniture in the salons of those wealthy and/or privileged enough to even have such a thing as a “salon”. But the violin wasn’t far behind as an instrument of choice–after the voice, at least in part because its tone and potential for sensuality and charm, along with impressive virtuosity and emotional expression (features important to and expected by those who attended these salon gatherings) was equal to the voice, and even greater in range and–in the hands and fingers of a capable player–in its ability to dazzle with technical feats.
The circumstances under which Mozart started to write uncompleted Singspiel Zaïde, some time in 1779 or 1780 in Salzburg, are not clear. It may have been in an effort to get a hearing at the new German Theater in Vienna, but by 1781 he realized that a serious opera of this kind was not suitable, given the Viennese preference for comedy. He then abandoned the project, and it was not staged until 1866 in an adaptation by Gollmick, with an Overture and closing section by Johann Anton Andrè. Further adaptations followed, but the version presented here consists only of the music Mozart wrote, adding up to about 80 percent of what the completed opera might have contained.
Mackerras’s series of opera recordings, with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, has a character very much its own, deriving from his natural feeling for the dramatic pacing of Mozart’s music and the expressive and allusive nature of its textures, as well as the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s sensitivity and responsiveness to him. These are not period-instrument performances (except in that natural horns and trumpets are used, to good effect), but Mackerras’s manner of articulation, and the lightness of the phrasing he draws from his strings, makes it, to my mind, a lot closer to a true period style than some of the performances that make a feature of period instruments and then use them to modern ends (I am thinking less here of British conductors than some from Europe).
Deus Passus is one quarter of the Passion Project 2000, which celebrated not only the turning of the millennium but also commemorated the 250th anniversary of Bach’s death. German conductor Helmuth Rilling honored this occasion by commissioning Passions from four disparate composers: Wolfgang Rihm, Tan Dun, Sofia Gubaidulina, and Osvaldo Golijov. Deus Passus is a setting of the Passion according to St. Luke, and it is a marvel of a piece for many reasons. For a full hour and a half, with music that is mostly slow and largely atonal (in the sense that Berg’s music is atonal), the twisting, aching, unpredictable harmonies are totally captivating. Rihm chooses a straightforward setting, a simple, dramatic telling of the story, and it is in his capacity for restraint that the true brilliance of the piece lies. He uses the chorus sparingly, mostly for dramatic purposes, having it portray the angry rabble bent on crucifying Jesus (as it often does in Bach’s passions).
Tutuguri: Poème dansé, after Artaud, is obliquely inspired by Artaud’s poem Tutuguri – Le rite du soleil noir in his radiophonic "play" Pour en finir avec le jugement de Dieu of 1948 as well as by Artaud’s life and work in general. Antonin Artaud (1896 – 1948), actor, playwright and stage director, was once a member of the French surrealist circle which he left when he realised the Surrealists’ Communist leanings. From early on, he suffered from nervous and mental disorders, often cured by various drugs to which he remained addicted throughout his life.
Erich Wolfgang Korngold is best known for the scores to Captain Blood and other films he wrote in Hollywood after fleeing Nazism in the mid-1930s, but he was also a composer of concert music earlier (and later) in his career. This music was forgotten under the modernist regime but has been revived to great success. Korngold's chamber music, though, still qualifies as neglected, and this superb recording of the composer's Piano Quintet in E major, Op. 15 and String Quartet No. 2 in E flat major, Op. 26, plus a rediscovered string quartet version of his popular incidental music for Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, has been successful right out of the box.