Ernst Vschubert

Johann Strauss Junior’s second operetta, Der Carneval in Rom, premiered in 1873 only one year before Die Fledermaus, and while the music is enjoyable enough, with several nice tunes, there is little in the score to presage the gorilla blockbuster soon to come. For one thing, Strauss wrote the music in the more romantic style of light opera because the work was originally scheduled to be mounted at the Vienna court opera, a place of more serious mien than the Theater an der Wien, then the home of the comic-oriented Viennese operetta.

Following the label's previous release of Fesca’s Septets opp. 26 and 28 (9996172) CPO are now releasing two of his six Piano Trios. The Piano Trio No. 5 composed in Braunschweig in 1845 merits special mention here: a truly appealing work, winning audiences with its wealth of beautiful melodies.

A fascinating production of La Traviata formed year's opera highlight at one of Europe's most important open-air festivals: the Opera Festival St. Margarethen. The dazzling production, set in a rustically romantic Roman quarry, already boasts 100,000 visitors this season. Recorded live in July 2008, this DVD captures the beauty of the open-air production. Stage designer Manfred Waba sets the tragic story about the demi-mondaine Violetta Valery and her admirer Alfredo Germont in an evocative replica of the Parisian Opera Garnier. His and Robert Herzl's unique interpretation is intelligent and effective.

Violin virtuoso and composer Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst was well known to audiences and musicians in the middle of the 19th century. At first he was a slavish follower of Paganini, whom he followed from place to place; often, by listening to the Italian master, he was able to reproduce his new works before they had been published or disseminated. But there is a kind of elegant artistry in some of his music that displays his own personality, and Joseph Joachim, the violinist most closely associated with the Beethoven/Brahms line of musical thinking, called Ernst the greatest violinist he had ever heard.

The classical period was one of those moments in history where the style itself was so powerful that composers of relatively modest ability, with a little luck and few good ideas, could write some outstanding music. Ernst Wilhelm Wolf’s Symphony in F is an excellent example of this phenomenon. A resident composer active in Weimar, Wolf (1732-92) composed about 35 symphonies, of which 26 survive. Like Handel’s organ concertos, they were written primarily for use as overtures and intermezzos during theatrical productions, and the short D major symphony, with trumpets and drums, clearly gives evidence of this provenance. The other three works, whether in three or four movements, are larger in scale, and certainly are rich enough in content to warrant an independent concert life.

At a time when Joseph Haydn, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and others were making significant contributions to the modern string quartet, Wolf harked back to an older form of composition, emulating the Northern and Central German quadro, a trio sonata with an additional melody part. The three quartets of the op. 3 series are the pinnacle of Wolf’s quartet oeuvre.

Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst (1812–65) was one of the leading musicians of his day, a friend of Berlioz, Chopin, Liszt and Mendelssohn, and for Joseph Joachim ‘the greatest violinist I ever heard’. But the popular encore pieces by which Ernst is remembered today represent only a fraction of his output. This second CD – in a series of six presenting his complete violin works for the first time – combines brilliant display and expressive melody: the Otello Fantasy and Rossini Variations show Ernst developing Paganini’s inheritance, and the Boléro, Two Romances and Pensées fugitives show why he was such a favourite in Parisian salons.

During the four years that separated Alexander Zemlinsky's Symphony in D minor and the premiere of the Symphony in B flat major (his first two efforts in the genre, aside from an incomplete work penned during his student years), the young composer had caught the eye and the fancy of the Viennese musical world. "The work's fresh, original ideas and genuinely exalted, youthful fire made a great impression on the audience and unleashed an intense salvo of applause," wrote one critic in response to the 1896 premiere of Zemlinsky's Waldegespräch (for soprano and chamber ensemble). These years also saw Zemlinsky winning two prestigious awards, the Luitpold Prize and the Beethoven Prize. His compositional skills had been refined during the mid 1890s as well. The Suite for Orchestra from 1895, for example, gave Zemlinsky an opportunity to create more adventurous orchestral colors than had been found in the admirable but conservative D minor Symphony. Thus, when one compares the B flat Symphony to his earlier symphonic effort, one notices that, while the same amalgamation of influences and styles is represented, more of the composer's own voice comes through – prompting one observer to suggest two different ways of looking at the work: "either as Zemlinsky's last early work or his first mature one."

The four works on this album, all composed in the 1940s, embrace the lingering end of one musical tradition and the vigorous upsurge of another. Mellifluous, retrospective and playful, the Duet Concertino and Prelude to Capriccio were works of Richard Strauss’s Indian Summer – an old man’s refuge from the barbarism of war and its aftermath. What the public thought of them was incidental, even irrelevant. In the same decade, Aaron Copland and other younger American composers were reaching out, via radio, recordings and film, to a new mass audience. The European influence of Appalachian Spring and the Clarinet Concerto, though inescapable, was minimised in a populist, vernacular idiom that absorbed native folk music and jazz.

There’s little if anything by this composer in the current CD catalog, and this recording makes a welcome addition. Among the few contemporary references to Alexander Fesca (1820-49) is one from Robert Schumann, who wrote a short article on some of the composer’s youthful piano pieces for his journal, Die Neue Zeitschrift für Musik in 1840. For what it’s worth, Schumann described these as “a glimpse into a rich if not yet controlled musical mind”, though a year later he despaired of Fesca’s capabilities and wrote, “if he continues to indulge his own aspirations, we must regard him as lost.” Fesca probably would have been lost, too, were it not for enterprising discs such as this, which includes direct and convincing performances of his two septets.