CPE Bach (second son of JSB) offers so much more than eccentricity and in this recital of five sonatas Danny Driver, a recent addition to Hyperion’s bejewelled roster of pianists, makes his superlative case for music that is as inventive as it is unsettling. Playing with imperturbable authority, he captures all of the mercurial fits and starts of the G minor Sonata (H47) – almost as if Bach were unable to decide on his direction. And here, in particular, you sense Haydn’s delight rather than censure in such a startling and adventurous journey. The strange, gawky nature of the third movement even anticipates Schumann’s wilder dreams and, dare I say it, is like a prophecy of Marc-André Hamelin’s trickery in his wicked take on Scarlatti (also on Hyperion, 12/01). Again, the beguiling solace of the central Adagio is enlivened with sufficient forward-looking dissonance to take it somehow out of time and place. In the Adagio of the A major Sonata (H29) gaiety quickly collapses into a Feste-like melancholy, though even Shakespeare’s clown hardly sings more disquietingly of life’s difficulties. The finale from the same Sonata has a mischievous feline delicacy; and if the last three sonatas on this recital are more conventional, they are still subject to all of Bach’s mood-swings
George Barnes and Carl Kress often teamed up to play guitar duets from 1962-65, although they made relatively few recordings. "Guitars Anyone?" was their last meeting on record, and it finds the pair in high spirits on a dozen selections. The second part of this CD features Barnes' Second Quartet with Dick Hyman, Hank Jones, Milt Hinton, Jo Jones and others.
Paul McCartney was commissioned by the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra to compose a work to mark its 150th anniversary and collaborated with composer/conductor Carl Davis on this 90-minute classical piece, which features soloists Kiri Te Kanawa and Jerry Hadley in a vaguely autobiographical story of a Liverpudlian named Shanty…
Allen's a decent though hardly extraordinary mainstream drummer who here leads an all-star neo-bop contingent in a set of standards and originals. Nothing surprising about the general conservatism of the date, given the personnel – Vincent Herring on alto sax, Nicholas Payton on trumpet, and Cyrus Chestnut on organ, to name a few. There's also nothing in particular wrong with the music, which is heartily played and deeply felt. Nothing, that is, except for the fact that it's covering ground that's been pretty much trampled into dust. It's a pleasant-enough listen, however, and since Cannonball Adderley isn't around to make albums like this anymore, maybe it's a good thing that musicians like these are. On the other hand, as long as guys like Johnny Griffin, Joe Henderson, and Phil Woods still walk the planet, the need is somewhat diminished.
Active in every genre other than opera, Carl Czerny is largely remembered for the numerous piano studies he wrote as pedagogical aids. Howard Shelley's advocacy of his three overlooked virtuoso works for piano and orchestra is a welcome reminder of this composer's greater appeal. Alongside the Piano Concerto in A minor Op.214 are two premiere recordings of his Piano Concerto in F major Op.28 and Rondo Brillant in B flat major Op.233.
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714-1788) was a German musician and composer; and the second of five sons of Johann Sebastian Bach and his frist wife, Maria Barbara Bach. He is considered to be one of the founders of the Classical style, composing in the Rococo and Classical periods.
Are you ready for extreme 18th century keyboard? The typically sparse packaging graphics of this ECM release may indicate only to German speakers what's contained inside: a "Tangentenflügel" is a tangent piano, a rare keyboard instrument of Mozart's time that used hammers, striking the strings at a tangent, but no dampers. The sound combines qualities of a clavichord (its nearest relative, but the tangent piano is louder), a fortepiano, and a harpsichord.
Our collection of previously unknown Christmas oratorios is growing impressively and happily. After Joseph Eybler in October, I can even announce two trouvailles for this month. There is the Christmas Oratorio by Carl Heinrich Graun (1703-1759), the conductor of Frederick the Great. It was only recently found in Washington. A precise dating is not yet possible, but it certainly arose in Graun's pre-Berlin time in Dresden or Braunschweig. However, it is a masterpiece on the threshold of a sensitive style. The well-balanced alternation of melodically accented and contrapuntally rigorous choral movements, of soulful, colorfully orchestrated arias and harmoniously far-reaching recitatives is particularly impressive.