This pair of discs brings together five of the legendary Mozart concerto performances, somewhat reluctantly approved of for publication by Curzon. Curzon was at the same time, a recording artist of choice but also a recording nightmare commercially. There are many of his recordings still in the vaults that were made at considerable expense, but which were then refused permission for publication by Curzon for reasons that few would consider essential.
This recording provides a prime example of why the late Istvan Kertesz has been one of those conductors whose interpretations of works by Brahms and Dvorak have consistently given me great pleasure. At various places in these serenades, he displays an extroverted, outdoorsy quality that allows melodies to soar. In addition, while listening recently to Sir Charles Mackerras' versions of these scores, where that conductor uses a down-sized orchestra, I found myself preferring Kertesz's suppleness and color, the latter enhanced obviously by the use of a somewhat larger orchestra.
It seems that Gary Bertini, like Gustav Mahler, is destined to be better remembered after his death than he was known during his life. When he passed away in 2005, he was little known outside Israel, Japan and continental Europe and nowhere near as widely recognised as the glamour conductors who appear on the пїЅmajorпїЅ labels. His recordings were few and hard to find. A year after his passing, Capriccio has launched a Gary Bertini Edition (see, for example, review) featuring live recordings drawn from the archives of the KпїЅlner Rundfunk-Sinfonie-Orchester, and EMI has re-released his Mahler cycle.
2014 marks the 50th anniversary of the start of the relationship between Luciano Pavarotti and Decca a fitting occasion to marvel once again at the sheer quality of the voice of the 20th Century s greatest tenor. This 27 CD survey reviews the totality of Pavarotti s remarkably intense first decade with Decca. Everything the artist recorded for the company from signing his contract until 1973 is here, allowing critics and collectors and opera lovers once more to appreciate his exceptional achievement in that first decade for the Decca label.
The name of Eduard van Beinum may too often be overlooked among the music directors of Amsterdam’s Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, in between the longer and more internationally renowned tenures of Willem Mengelberg and Bernard Haitink, but this is a wrong that Eloquence has put right with the reissue of the greater portion of Van Beinum’s recorded work with the orchestra on both Decca and Philips. The conductor has been revealed anew as an interpreter of lucidly phrased fidelity to the score and uncommon sensitivity. The present issue brings repertoire especially close to Van Beinum’s heart. He was a master Schubertian, who needed to be taught no lessons by the nascent period-instrument movement on nurturing a hop, skip and jump in the composer’s effervescent orchestral textures or coaxing a sweetly flowing lyricism from their sunny complexions.