The German violinist, violist and composer Friedrich Hermann (1828–1907) spent the six decades of his adult life teaching at the Leipzig Conservatoire and, although his works include a symphony, a string quartet and numerous other chamber pieces for strings, by far the largest part of his output is pedagogical in nature. But he pumped his teaching pieces full of imagination, as the studies here demonstrate. Even though the twenty Miniatures published in 1881 are intended for student violinists, many of them are tiny tone-poems intended both to engage the attention of their players and challenge their techniques – and their mix of poetry and humour should also appeal to adult listeners.
The German violinist, violist and composer Friedrich Hermann (1828–1907) spent the six decades of his adult life teaching at the Leipzig Conservatoire and, although his works include a symphony, a string quartet and numerous other chamber pieces for strings, by far the largest part of his output is pedagogical in nature. But he pumped his teaching pieces full of imagination, as the studies here demonstrate. Even though the twenty Miniatures published in 1881 are intended for student violinists, many of them are tiny tone-poems intended both to engage the attention of their players and challenge their techniques – and their mix of poetry and humour should also appeal to adult listeners.
Apparently a staple in Russia, the music of Taneyev exists on the fringes of the repertoire in the West, something that should be rectified–and will be if this superb CD made by a starry cast of performers gets the attention it deserves. He’s a Romantic composer, but hardly of the heart-on-sleeve variety, since he was a master of counterpoint and firmly encased his Romantic impulses in a well-fitted classical jacket. Sometimes he makes you think of a more modern, pungent Brahms with a Russian accent.
Hania Rani announces ‘Music for Film and Theatre’ a personal selection of recent compositions for film, theatre and other projects.
Given that John Williams has his pick of much of the $80-million, thrill-packed boilerplate that comes clanging out of Hollywood every summer and fall, it's especially noteworthy (and often gratifying) when he doesn't exercise his option. In scoring Alan Parker's adaptation of Frank McCourt's Pulitzer-winning memoirs of his dire Irish upbringing in the 1930s and '40s, Williams has produced a graceful, autumnal work of compelling, though decidedly delicate, emotional power. Using spare piano and solo woodwind melodies filled with longing eloquence, Williams effectively punctuates a sweeping, largely string and wind ensemble. As he did to great effect in The Phantom Menace, the veteran leans heavily on his classical moonlighting duties for inspiration. Interspersed throughout (and also effectively underscored by his music) are concise, telling excerpts of the film's narration read by Alan Bennett.
Witold Lutosławski’s few surviving apprentice works are suffused with the elegance of Ravel and the lush effusiveness of Szymanowski, and this is particularly true of the early Piano Sonata, heard here in Giorgio Koukl’s new and corrected edition based on the original manuscript. Further premières include the wistful A Kiss of Roxanne and the technically complex Invention. Including all of the folk-music tinted pedagogical miniatures, works for piano four hands and other occasional pieces, this is the most comprehensive edition of Lutosławski’s works for solo piano ever recorded.