Anton Bagatov

It is almost exactly a quarter of a century since Pierre Boulez recorded his complete Webern survey. This new collection, apart from being useful for anyone who doesn't want to buy three whole CDs of Webern, offers an interesting insight into how Boulez's way with a composer probably more central to him than any other has changed. For a start he gives him a little more time: most of the pieces here are slightly but significantly slower than they were in 1970. This allows lines to be more subtly moulded, phrases to acquire a touch more poise. This is not to say that Boulez has softened and now phrases Webern as though he were Chopin, but grace and even wit (the second movement of the Quartet) are now noticeable alongside his customary precision. The Ensemble InterContemporain have been playing these pieces constantly since they were first founded, and it shows in the absolute assurance of their performances.

Teacher of Rachmaninov and Scriabin, Anton Arensky (1861-1906) divided his life between metropolitan St Petersburg and provincial Moscow – during the second half of the 19th century, as Stephen Coombs points out in his excellent notes, ‘a city of sharp contrasts, fiercely religious, noisy and mournful… [of] sober days… followed by riotous nights’. A contemporary recalled him as ‘mobile, nervous, with a wry smile on his clever, half-Tartar face, always joking or snarling. All feared his laughter and adored his talent.’ Rosina Lhevinne remembered him being ‘shy and rather weak’. Tchaikovsky, like Prokofiev and Stravinsky, had time for his art, but Rimsky (whose pupil he’d been) thought he would be ‘soon forgotten’. Maybe Arensky, drunkard and gambler, was no genius, and he was demonstrably lost among the elevated peaks of Brahmsian sonata tradition. But that he could turn a perfumed miniature more lyrically beautiful than most, more occasionally profound too, is repeatedly borne out in the 27 vignettes of this delicate anthology (Opp. 25, 41, 43 and 53 in full and excerpts from Opp. 36 and 52 ).

Following his CPO recording with the Tapiola Sinfonietta of Anton Bruckner's Symphony in D minor, "Die Nullte," and the Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Mario Venzago presents the Symphony No. 2 in C minor, this time with the Northern Sinfonia. Unlike some contemporary conductors who favor the original 1872 version of this symphony, Venzago performs the more familiar 1877 version, edited by William Carragan. This is the first of Bruckner's symphonies where he expanded the form to an hour duration, and the fertile ideas it contains are appropriate to the greater time frame. Yet this work has never been accepted by audiences in the way most of the later symphonies have, such as the Fourth, Seventh, and Ninth, and the music falters over too many starts and stops, indecisive development, and repetitions. Even so, there is much attractive material here, and Venzago brings it off with a light touch, having the orchestra play delicately and sweetly, almost as if this were a Mendelssohn symphony.

Anton Fils, dessen kurzes Leben mit nur 27 Jahren im Jahr 1760 als Cellist der Hofkapelle in Mannheim endete. Schon Zeitgenossen wie Schubarth haben den frühen Tod dieses hochbegabten und einfallsreichen Komponisten bedauert. Zum Glück für die Nachwelt hinterließ Fils eine stattliche Anzahl sinfonischer Kompositionen: So ist zu hoffen, daß das L’Orfeo Barockorchester und das Label cpo dieser ersten CD noch einige folgen lassen, um den überlieferten Schatz von etwa dreißig Sinfonien dieses Meisters den Musikfreunden zugänglich zu machen.

This is a collection of chips from the great man’s workbench, some of them thin shavings but none of them without some interest. Perhaps the weirdest assemblage is the incidental music for a drama called Leonore Prohaska, a play about a girl who dresses up as a man and sets off heroically – but do not be misled by comparisons with any other Beethoven Leonores: this one appears to have been a Sweet Polly Oliver who fought and died as a soldier in the Wars of Liberation. Censorship silenced the play, but not before Beethoven had composed four numbers for it.

The Orchestre national d'Auvergne invite us to dive into the lyricism of the musical universe of Berg, Webern and Schreker. In the heart of Vienna, at the twilight of romanticism, Webern and Schreker embrace their beginning careers. With much spirit and expression, their works convey a surprising melodic breadth, as the first lights of expressionism loom on the horizon. On the other side, Berg's Lyric Suite echoes Beethoven and Mahler but also reveals all the extent of the serial modernism. The Orchestre national d'Auvergne, conducted by Roberto Forés Veses, brings us to Vienna as the musicians perform this programme with an exceptional verve.