Andreas Mühlen More!

Although Korngold’s ‘complete works for violin and piano’ make up a reasonably full disc, it is only fair to point out that the Violin Sonata is the single work that is not an arrangement from one of his other pieces. Yet this Sonata, written at the age of 15 for Carl Flesch and Artur Schnabel no less, is a fine example of his early style, with its echoes of Zemlinsky and early Schoenberg. The young Dutch violinist Sonja van Beek and German pianist Andreas Frölich negotiate its challenges with ease: as in Rachmaninoff’s Cello Sonata, the pianist has as tough a role as the melody instrument. Much Ado about Nothing is one of several arrangements of a suite of four movements derived from incidental music to Shakespeare’s play written in 1918, performed here with affection and a silken suavity. The remainder of the repertoire is made up of arrangements of Korngold lollipops, hit numbers from his operas, such as the unforgettable ‘Marietta’s Lied’ from Die tote Stadt, arranged by the composer as salon pieces and popularised by Kreisler and his ilk. Here, the almost vocal qualities of van Beek’s tone come into their own. An essential disc for the Korngold addict.

Trained as a violinist, Andreas Romberg (1767-1821) began touring Europe at age 6 with his cousin Bernard who was a cellist. Well regarded during his lifetime, he took Haydn’s mature works as his model for his 30 string quartets. But as Beethoven became more popular, Romberg‘s reputation declined. That inverse relationship is dramatically revealed by the number of his public performances, which decreased in direct proportion to the string quartet performances of his more famous contemporary. All written in minor keys, the three quartets were composed at different times during his lifetime and follow the usual 4 movement pattern with the minuet as the 2nd section.

It is grand to hear novice players so successfully take on three of Chopin's chamber pieces, the Cello Sonata, Piano Trio, and Grand Duo for cello and piano. There have certainly been great recordings of these works in the past – one thinks immediately of those by Mstislav Rostropovich and Jacqueline du Pré – but the energy, enthusiasm, and sincerity that cellist Andreas Brantelid, pianist Marianna Shirinyan, and violinist Vilde Frang bring to this music more than justifies preserving their performances. Brantelid has a big but nuanced tone, an elegant but impressive technique, and an obvious affinity for the music, and he is well-matched by Shirinyan's polished technique and empathic accompaniments and Frang's easy virtuosity and lyrical interpretation. The ensemble is poised but comfortable and the interpretations are cogent and compelling. Captured in close but smooth digital sound, these performances deserve to be heard by anyone who loves this music, or great chamber music playing.

Andreas Vollenweider's Grammy-winning effort is dominated by the Swiss musician's electrically modified harp. Its distinctive sound runs throughout the album, supported by the usual tinkering synthesizer effects and light percussion. After an extended introductory interlude, the title track zips into a vaguely Caribbean-styled rhythm. "Water Moon" features a different, more organic harp sound; it's mixed with the windy tones of a flute, suggesting ghostly moonshafts lancing through falling rain. Vollenweider plays the harp strings off of guitar strings on the surprisingly twangy (for new age, anyway) "Drown in Pale Light." The composer weaves the album's instrumentals together with a goody bag of pan-ethnic influences; the album's margins are full of these little touches that nevertheless make a big difference. Down to the Moon will appeal to anyone looking for music that's as interesting as it is soothing.

Swiss vocal acrobat Andreas Schaerer and Finnish guitarist Kalle Kalima have some things in common. As artists, each is essentially in a category completely of his own. Both are musicians who can always conjure something special from their chosen instruments.

Andreas Vollenweider's Book of Roses marries concept to contemporary instrumentalism, and blends the music of numerous cultures into the composer's already worldly sound. Separated into four chapters (where each song is an "episode"), the album chronicles the journey of a young girl from dances in grand ballrooms, through mysterious woods full of magical jugglers, to an eventual meeting with the Sphinx…

Andreas Vollenweider's 1985 effort White Winds, subtitled "Seeker's Journey," features the composer's modified electric harp in pieces that are much more experimental than what would later emerge as the prevailing sound of new age…

The solo piano music of Béla Bartók is sometimes compared to that of Schoenberg, but Bartók's works are more emotionally accessible to listeners, particularly when they are played as Andreas Bach does on this album. While a great importance is placed on the percussiveness of Bartók's music, Bach instead focuses on the harmonies and the temperaments of these works. He does not ignore those more primitive aspects of the music, but rather than being sharply aggressive, Bach uses more of a forceful follow-through to control the sound.

Richard Wetz's ultra-conservative Third Symphony, like his second, resembles sort of a cross between Bruckner and Max Bruch. Not that this explains anything useful. One thing's for sure, though: Wetz writes beautiful music. His themes sing, stay with you when listening, and offer clearly contrasting moods and images. While never calling attention to itself in an ostentatious manner, Wetz's orchestration elucidates his musical arguments with perfect clarity and efficiency. His harmony, both diatonic and tastefully chromatic, is gorgeous. There's more than a touch of Schubert in his mixture of major and minor modes, and he knows how to use both discrete dissonance and fluid rhythms to carry his melodies across the bar lines. In short, the guy knows how to write symphonically, and if he now appears to have been born a generation or more too late (the piece dates from 1922 but sounds more like 1872), that need not concern us now.