Music Director Manfred Honeck and the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, with Reference Recordings, are pleased to announce the release of a new recording in superb audiophile, pairing Tchaikovsky’s iconic Symphony No. 4 with the world premiere of leading American composer Jonathan Leshnoff’s Double Concerto for Clarinet and Bassoon, featuring the orchestra’s own Michael Rusinek, Principal Clarinet, and Nancy Goeres, Principal Bassoon. This HIGHRESAUDIO release was recorded in Heinz Hall for the Performing Arts, the acoustically outstanding and historic home of the orchestra.
Recordings of Tchaikovsky symphonies are appearing less frequently since the great major label implosion of a few years ago, and the upside is that we can once again approach new releases with interest, and even anticipation. Conductor Tugan Sokhiev’s light, sinewy reading gives the impression of a fresh approach to this warhorse work. He elicits bold if not particularly brazen sounds from the Toulouse orchestra brass in the dramatic opening and throughout the first movement–especially the close, where I was once again reminded that this is pretty scary music. He achieves this effect not only by energetic tempos, but also by highlighting the harmonic tension Tchaikovsky built into the score, and by taking great care with the music’s unique timbral characteristics (woodwinds in particular).
What a good idea to couple Tchaikovsky's three fantasy overtures inspired by Shakespeare. José Serebrier writes an illuminating note on the genesis of each of the three, together with an analysis of their structure. He notes that once Tchaikovsky had established his concept of the fantasy overture in the first version of Romeo andJuliet in 1869 – slow introduction leading to alternating fast and slow sections, with slow coda – he used it again both in the 1812 Overture and Hamlet. The Tempest (1873) has similarly contrasting sections, but begins and ends with a gently evocative seascape, with shimmering arpeggios from strings divided in 13 parts. It's typical of Serebrier's performance that he makes that effect sound so fresh and original. In many ways, early as it is, this is stylistically the most radical of the three overtures here, with sharp echoes of Berlioz in some of the woodwind effects. The clarity of Serebrier's performance, both in texture and in structure, helps to bring that out, as does a warm and analytical BIS recording. Hamlet, dating from much later, is treated to a similarly fresh and dramatic reading, with Serebrier bringing out the yearningly Russian flavour of the lovely oboe theme representing Ophelia.
Ferenc Fricsay died at only 48 years of age – suffering a death from illness that was as tragic as it was untimely. Even though Fircsay’s career as a recording artist barely lasted 12 years, almost every connoisseur of Classical music considers him a legend, the epitome of the enlightened master conductor, who was good at everything he touched, a role model for figures like Abbado or Harnoncourt. The sleek and slender aspects of Ferenc Fricsay’s conductorial style paved the way for many facets of what we consider informed conducting today, especially in Mozart, and he still (almost) equalled Furtwängler in transcendental romanticism – when it suited the music.
Anton Rubinstein was a towering figure of Russian musical life, and one of the 19th century’s most charismatic musical figures. Rivalled at the keyboard only by Liszt, he was near the last in a line of pianist-composers that climaxed with Liszt, Busoni, and Rachmaninov. Like them, Rubinstein’s reputation as a composer in his day was more controversial than his reputation as a performer. But unlike them, his vast compositional output, much of it containing music of beauty and originality, still remains relatively unexplored territory. Rubinstein was one of the most prolific composers of the 19th century, with a catalogue of works ranging from several hundred solo piano compositions, to concertos, symphonies, chamber music, operas, choral works, and songs.