L.g Alexander

Under the title My Rachmaninoff, Alexander Krichel will release his new album on Berlin Classics on March 24, 2023, and with it a very personal tribute to the Russian pianist and composer, whose birthday will be celebrated for the 150th time just a few days later. For his eighth album, Alexander Krichel has selected works that have shaped his strong connection to Rachmaninoff. From the world-famous Prélude Op. 3 No. 2 in C-sharp minor to the virtuosic Corelli Variations and Études- Tableaux, some of the most difficult repertoire written for piano, to the concluding Vocalise, Krichel invites listeners to discover Rachmaninoff's biography musically. He wants to inspire his audience with the music of this great composer in the same way that it once captivated him.

Marin Marais published his Quatrième Livre de Pièces de Viole two years after the death of Louis XIV, establishing himself as the undisputed master of the genre and providing pieces not only for musicians who had achieved some skill on the viol but also for the most virtuoso players. Here Marais reshaped the classical forms, altering the traditional sequence for the suites and making an increasing use of character pieces. The sometimes whimsical imagery and the new freedom of form that these pieces contain reach their peak in the astonishing Suitte d'un goût étranger; these thirty or so pieces employ as yet unheard-of keys and offer a multitude of characters and representations that can tend towards the exotic. Breaking further new ground, and somewhat influenced by the Italian trio, Marais ended the Quatrième Livre with two suites for three viols, a genre he claimed to be new to France.

If you're already a fan of Russian music of the Imperial Age, you already know at least the name Mily Balakirev, the living link between Glinka, the father of Russian music, and Mussorgsky, Borodin, and Rimsky-Korsakov, the composer who sacrificed much of his composing time to his pupils and part of his life to his insanity, but who nevertheless turned out indubitable masterpieces in several genres. The First Symphony and the symphonic poem Tamara are probably his best-known orchestral works, but his best-known single work in any genre is certainly his Islamy, the piece of pseudo-ethnic, super-virtuoso sex-dance music that Russian pianists still occasionally trot out as an encore.

It is unbelievable that such a popular work in the current repertoire as Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto Op. 61 only conquered the concert hall around three to four decades after its composition. The work ultimately gained its popularity through two revised printed versions published in Vienna and in London, which both reveal substantial revisions in the solo parts. The quest for Beethoven’s “original version” proves to be extremely complicated, as Beethoven himself offered up to four alternatives to the soloists in some spots of the manuscript. A study of the different inks and quills used in that autograph has allowed the violinist Anton Steck to propose the new und unusual version recorded here, which thanks also to the use of historical instruments results in a tangible and transparent rendering of a very well-known piece.

The violinist and composer Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber (1644–1704) was a celebrated Kapellmeister at the court of Archbishop Max Gandolph of Salzburg. Present-day audiences tend to think of him first and foremost as the author of anthologies of spectacular violin music such as his Rosary Sonatas of around 1670 and his Sonatas for solo violin of 1681. But attitudes to these works were initially devastatingly dismissive. In 1927, the eighth – posthumous – edition of Wilhelm Joseph von Wasielewski’s seminal Die Violine und ihre Meister appeared with revisions by the author’s son, Waldemar, and assured its readers that only “some” of these pieces were of “lasting musical merit”.

The work group formed by Telemann’s overture suites is regarded as exemplary and even today offers a wealth of discoveries – and the three works presented here in CD recording premieres certainly answer this description. It is difficult to determine the chronological order of Telemann’s extant overture suites because the composer incorporated very different influences into them, not only from French music since the invention of the form by Jean-Baptiste Lully but also from the »Lullists« active in Germany such as Johann Sigismund Kusser, Philipp Heinrich Erlebach, and Johann Fischer. And for Telemann’s pronounced tendency to mix existing formal, stylistic, and generic traditions, the overture suite formed an absolutely ideal foil. Here we can find diverse characters, formal combinations, and stylistic interconnections in great supply. The great imagination and spirit at work here are also shown in the plentiful stores of surprising ideas that shine like flashes of brainstorm lightning in various passages.