Jirí Bárta, Hamish Milne Moscheles, Hummel: Cello Sonatas

Busoni was not only one of the greatest pianists of his age but also a composer and theorist of daunting intellect. His three idols were Bach, Mozart and Liszt and this disc presents two transcriptions, and in the Fantasia contrappuntistica a colossal re-imagining, each paying tribute to the past while reflecting Busoni’s genius as both creator and re-creator.

Hamish Milne makes a welcome return to the Romantic Piano Concerto series with two recherché delights from the nineteenth century.
Józef, ‘the other Wieniawski’ is the brother of the more famous violinist, Henryk. He studied at the Paris Conservatoire and had a wide-ranging and successful performing and composing career. His highly attractive Piano Concerto in G minor is in the mould of those by Chopin and Liszt, with the piano very much in the foreground. The Rondo finale demands a spectacular display of technique, living proof of Wieniawski’s own brand of virtuosity.

These two English piano concertos in the grand romantic tradition were written at almost the same time (Holbrooke 1908, Wood 1909) and were undoubtedly inspired by the great concertos of the previous few decades such as those of Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov.

Over the ten years that the Romantic Piano Concerto has been running one of the projects most often requested by the many fans of the series has been a recording of the complete Lyapunov works for piano and orchestra. Well finally here it is!

Anatoly Alexandrov (1888-1982) - not to be confused with several other Russian composers with the name Alexandrov - was a Russian composer and pianist who wrote music in virtually all genres but mainly focused on the keyboard. The style is reminiscent of late Scriabin and, perhaps more than anything else, Medtner. Now, Alexandrov's music isn't, in the end, quite on the level of either of those composers, but this survey by Hamish Milne proves that Alexandrov is certainly a worthwhile encounter.

The three sonatas Stephen Hough has selected for this recital not only reveal Johann Nepomuk Hummel as a plausible "missing link" between Beethoven and Chopin, but also as a formidable, creative force in his own right. Maybe he's not so memorable a melodist as Chopin nor a protean architect on the level of Beethoven, but Hummel's piano writing still sounds idiomatic and invigorating to modern ears. It's also quite difficult. The F-sharp minor sonata's dramatic finale, for instance, allows little respite from its unrelenting broken octaves, taxing runs, and double notes, while the gnarly dotted rhythms, imitative writing, and thick chords permeating the D major sonata's Scherzo evoke the Schumann to come. No matter how difficult the music, Stephen Hough's effortless technique and eloquent, characterful musicality make everything sound easy. What's more, he never sacrifices power for speed. Listen for example to the way he gives the challenging, spiraling triplets in the F minor sonata's finale their full dynamic due, maintaining a full, tonally varied sonority with virtually no help from the sustain pedal. In sum, it will take a heap of work and tons of inspiration for future pianists to match Hough's reference standards here. This is a valuable release and a joyous listening experience all in one: don't miss it.

In the 250th Beethoven anniversary year, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet has chosen this programme of works by contemporary composers to illuminate and contextualize Beethovens extraordinary output for piano. In his explanatory note for the album, the pianist writes: Just as a mountain peak is always surrounded by other perhaps less lofty but no less fascinating summits, the major works of Beethoven are not isolated rock formations rising from the desert, but, as it were, Himalayas, forming part of a range in which other mountains might be the best pieces by contemporaries such as Clementi, Hummel, Dussek, and Wölfl. These composers all knew Beethoven well and were in contact with one another.

Nine cello sonatas by Vivaldi have survived. Six of them were published as a set in Paris in about 1740; that set, mistakenly known as the composer's Op. 14, contains the sonatas recorded in this release. The three remaining sonatas come from manuscript collections. All but one of the six works are cast in the slow-fast-slow-fast pattern of movements of the sonata da chiesa. The odd one out, RV46, in fact, retains the four movement sequence but inclines towards the sonata da camera in the use of dance titles. The music of these sonatas is almost consistently interesting, often reaching high points of expressive eloquence, as we find, for example, in the justifiably popular Sonata in E minor, RV40. Christophe Coin brings to life these details in the music with technical assurance and a spirit evidently responsive to its poetic content. Particularly affecting instances of this occur in the third movements of the A minor and the E minor Sonatas where Coin shapes each phrase, lovingly achieving at the same time a beautifully sustained cantabile.

Antonio Vivaldi composed several sonatas for cello and continuo. A set of six cello sonatas, written between 1720 and 1730, was published in Paris in 1740. He wrote at least four other cello sonatas, with two manuscripts kept in Naples, another in Wiesentheid, and one known to be lost.