Mdg "scene"

Though other Baroque composers had written chorale arrangements for organ in which the cantus firmus was assigned to a solo wind instrument, the idea of writing a Fantasia for the same combination seems to have originated with Johann Krebs. His soulful, eloquent Fantasia in F minor for oboe and organ was celebrated in its day, and when you hear it on this engaging recording, you can well understand why. Though the fantasias are the more intricate works, the chorales with wind obbligato are admirable for their contrapuntal inventiveness and for the various ways in which the composer chooses to set the familiar tunes.

The works of Swiss composer Frank Martin don't rely on dramatic flash; they tend to seductively beguile with their profoundly intelligent sensuality. While they may never be hits on a pops concert, they reward attentive listening with their deep feeling and insight, given voice in a distinctly personal and expressive language. Polyptyque, one of the composer's final works, a concerto for violin and two small string orchestras, is made up of six images from the life of Christ, from Palm Sunday to the Ascension.

Almost unknown for years because of the general focus on Louis Vierne as an organ composer, the Piano Quintet in C minor, Op. 42, of this student of Franck and Widor has been unearthed and has received at least a couple of recordings. The work is superb. For those wondering, it does resemble Vierne's organ music. It is highly chromatic, densely contrapuntal, and often built around lines that are introduced with each instrument playing a note of a large chord in sequence for a very organ-like effect. Beyond this is a highly personal quality that marries an intimacy akin to that of Janácek's chamber music to the monumental style Vierne inherited.

Very little is known of Robert de Roos (1907-1976), and as far as I can tell, this CD is the only recording of some of his music on the market today. Surprising when you consider that the output of this Dutch composer was quite impressive and included over 100 compositions in all genres and instrumental combinations. Symphonies, violin concertos, choral works, piano pieces, theatre music, and most importantly 8 string quartets came from that composer's pen. And even more astounding, is the fact that music of this caliber has been ignored or neglected until now.

The music of Frank Martin is most often characterized by exquisite craftsmanship, intelligence, subtlety, a tonal language that is neither overtly modernist nor overtly Romantic, and a finely calibrated but reserved, chaste expressiveness, which are not attributes likely to create wild popularity with broad audiences. For his admirers, though, his voice has a potent individuality and emotional depths that engender fierce loyalty, and this album should be like catnip for them. Its attractive program adds to its appeal; it includes an alternate, rarely heard version of his most popular work, Petite symphonie concertante arranged for full orchestra as Symphonie concertante; a genuine rarity, the suite from his opera Der Sturm, based on The Tempest, for baritone and orchestra, and Six Monologues from "Jedermann" for baritone and orchestra, with a text by Hugo von Hofmannsthal.

The self-interested cabal that has controlled the legacy of the Second Viennese School has barely conceded that this music exists, but the fact is that, faced with mounting bills at his Society for Musical Private Performances during the ruinous inflation of the early '20s, Arnold Schoenberg organized a concert of arrangements of music by Johann Strauss (the younger) and opened it to the public in order to raise money, defensively pointing out that Brahms, too, liked Strauss waltzes. His proteges, Berg and Webern, were drafted to arrange one waltz each, with Berg snaring the familiar Wein, Weib, und Gesang, Op. 418 (Wine, Women, and Song), and Schoenberg contributed a pair.

Samuel Scheidt's Tabulatura Nova, published in three parts in the early seventeenth century, is one of those checkpoints that music history students have to learn. It was a collection of keyboard music with mostly instructional intent, making up a compendium of North German polyphonic techniques. The Tabulatura Nova was an early example of the exhaustiveness of musical thinking that became one of Bach's key characteristics, and it pointed to Bach as well in its density and overall conservatism. This double disc, covering the second of the Tabulatura Nova's three volumes, includes early fugues, fantasias, dances, an impressive toccata, and pieces intended for sacred use, including several based on chorales.

Hearing the three dramatic chords that open the Zauberharfe overture played by this excellent Swiss orchestra (the oldest in Switzerland) I was immediately struck by the clarity of attack and rich instrumental color. As the performance progresses the Musikkollegium Winterthur exhibits an alluring full-bodied tone and characterful playing completely in the Schubertian style. The same goes for the pensive B minor Entr’acte, the lovely Entr’acte 3, and the charming No. 9 Ballet.

Hardy Rittner seemed on top of his game both technically and interpretively in his first volume of Brahms' early piano works, but for some reason he seems less assured and less interpretively attuned to Brahms' music in this, his second volume. Performing the north German composer's C major and F minor sonatas, Rittner does not bring out of the piano the massive sonorities the music's out-sized chords require. This may be due in part to his choice of instrument. On the first volume, Rittner performed on a rich-toned 1851 Johann Baptist Streicher piano, but here he's playing an 1850 Bösendorfer lacking both depth and resonance.

These little pieces for saxophone, largely unknown even to saxophonists since their composition in 1929, may be viewed in several ways. The composer, the mostly Leipzig-based Sigfrid Karg-Elert, termed them "in primary respects higher studies for the development of new paths in technique and expressive means" for the saxophone. But saxophonist Christian Peters argues for their wider expressive significance. He himself wrote the booklet notes, which include a good deal of interesting biographical information (he was born simply Sigfrid, or Siegfried, Karg, but was urged by teachers to append his mother's maiden name to his surname to deflect "Semitic suspicions").