If Saint-Saëns has been called the French Mendelssohn, in a curious turnabout, Joseph Rheinberger (1839?1901) might be called the German Saint-Saëns. Both composers were accomplished organists for whom the instrument played a major role in their professional careers. Both composers labored in the field of opera, neither, however?notwithstanding Saint-Saëns?s Samson et Dalila with much success. Both composers found their main calling in instrumental, chamber, and, in Saint-Saëns?s case, orchestral music.
In his ballets the great Soviet composer Sergei Prokofiev continues the long and famous tradition of Russian ballet music, which culminated in the immortal ballets of Tchaikovsky (Nutcracker, Swan Lake). Prokofiev’s genius for characterisation produced such classical “hits” as the Montagues & Capulets (often used in films, commercial and even sporting events!), and the Love Scene of Romeo and Juliet. Also the Cinderella-Waltz from the Cinderella Suite became an evergreen. The ballet Stone Flower is the last Soviet ballet Prokofiev wrote, and although it is little known, it contains music of great beauty and power on an equal level as the famous ballets.
Nobody knows why Johann Sebastian Bach composed his six suites for solo cello. Nor does anybody know how it came about that the suites were soon afterwards consigned to oblivion and more than a century before a 13-year-old Spanish musical prodigy discovered a worn copy of the score in a second-hand bookstore store in Barcelona. For the next 11 years Pablo Casals practiced them every day. Finally, in 1936, he entered London’s Abbey Road studios to record the second and third suites for the first time. The rest, as they say, is history. Today, Bach’s cello suites have become a rite of passage for all aspiring cellists.
While purists might claim that the jazz pianist Keith Jarrett’s disc of Handel’s keyboard suites is an example of the wrong performer on the wrong instrument, his straightforward conception and contrapuntal clarity underscore the solid foundation on which Handel’s most flamboyant fantasies were built. This one of Keith's finest classical performances, and essential listening for baroque enthusiasts.
“[These suites] have rarely been recorded or promoted by harpsichordists during the most recent revival of interest in ‘early music.’” I realize that Richard Egarr is entitled to his own opinions—his liner notes on an earlier release, for example, likened the humor in Purcell’s harpsichord music to that of the wonderful old 1950s BBC comedy The Goon Show —but he’s not entitled to his own facts. Christopher Brodersen pointed out in a 2011 review of these works featuring Laurence Cummings ( Fanfare 34:5) that ArkivMusic listed nine complete sets played on the harpsichord, with several others on the piano. I find some of the suites have considerably more recordings than that, in 2014: 26 for the Suite in A Major, 28 for the Suite in D Minor, 25 for the Suite in E Minor, 47 for the Suite in E Major. If such numbers reflect rare recordings, I have to wonder what Egarr would consider a moderate number, let alone a frequent one.