Kedbet Kol Youm

A dazzling orchestral disc of music from the Jewish tradition of the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries. Bruch’s Kol Nidrei is one of the most well-loved works in the cello repertoire. The descending opening phrase of the cello line is instantly recognizable: a universal, extraordinarily expressive utterance.

Which once-famous cellist toured with his own version of Jimi Hendrix's notorious "Star-Spangled Banner" and booked to play the Bach Cello Suites in nightclubs? Matt Haimovitz, herd here when he was not yet twenty, was heading off to Harvard (in the footsteps of Yo-Yo- Ma), and boasted a contract with DG. Despite brilliant reviews, the contract was canceled, and a disenchanted Haimovitz went his own way, achieving an offbeat career. He now teaches at Mcgill Univ. in canada, having spent a long time in Boston and Amherst. No doubt he's satisfied, yet one can't help but remember F. Scott Fitzgerald's remark about no second acts in American literature. Now it's also music.

Making her debut on Decca, Alisa Weilerstein presents three major works of the cello repertoire with Daniel Barenboim leading the Staatskapelle Berlin. The star vehicle, naturally, is Edward Elgar's Concerto in E minor, which Weilerstein plays with commanding presence, rich tone, and emotional depth. Most listeners will be drawn primarily to this performance because of the piece's familiarity, and Weilerstein's charisma and passionate playing make it the album's main attraction. Yet listeners should give Weilerstein and Barenboim credit for following the Elgar with an important if not instantly recognizable or approachable modernist work, Elliott Carter's powerful Cello Concerto. Weilerstein is quite bold to play this intensely dramatic and angular composition, and while it's unlikely to appeal to the majority of fans who adore the Elgar, it deserves its place on the program for its seriousness and extraordinary displays of solo and orchestral writing. To close, Weilerstein plays Max Bruch's Kol Nidrei, a Romantic work that returns the program to a mellow and melancholy mood and brings the CD to a satisfying close. Decca's reproduction is excellent, putting Weilerstein front and center with full resonance, but not leaving the vibrant accompaniment of the orchestra too far behind her.

As one of the world's cello stars, Truls Mørk is sure to garner extravagant praise for this CD of Schumann's Concerto in A minor, Bloch's Schelomo, and Bruch's Kol Nidrei, all three essential vehicles for any cello virtuoso. However, there are two weaknesses in his playing that need addressing. First, and most noticeable, Mørk is too loose in his tempi and rhythms, almost to the point of amorphousness. His licentious rubato is most alarming in Schumann's Concerto, which really needs a rigorously shaped solo to hold the piece together; and even though Schelomo is patently more rhapsodic and Kol Nidrei more freely lyrical, Mørk pushes his freedom too far, almost as if his love for producing a gorgeous sound makes him forget the bar lines.

As one of the world's cello stars, Truls Mørk is sure to garner extravagant praise for this CD of Schumann's Concerto in A minor, Bloch's Schelomo, and Bruch's Kol Nidrei, all three essential vehicles for any cello virtuoso. However, there are two weaknesses in his playing that need addressing. First, and most noticeable, Mørk is too loose in his tempi and rhythms, almost to the point of amorphousness. His licentious rubato is most alarming in Schumann's Concerto, which really needs a rigorously shaped solo to hold the piece together; and even though Schelomo is patently more rhapsodic and Kol Nidrei more freely lyrical, Mørk pushes his freedom too far, almost as if his love for producing a gorgeous sound makes him forget the bar lines.

As one of the world's cello stars, Truls Mørk is sure to garner extravagant praise for this CD of Schumann's Concerto in A minor, Bloch's Schelomo, and Bruch's Kol Nidrei, all three essential vehicles for any cello virtuoso. However, there are two weaknesses in his playing that need addressing. First, and most noticeable, Mørk is too loose in his tempi and rhythms, almost to the point of amorphousness. His licentious rubato is most alarming in Schumann's Concerto, which really needs a rigorously shaped solo to hold the piece together; and even though Schelomo is patently more rhapsodic and Kol Nidrei more freely lyrical, Mørk pushes his freedom too far, almost as if his love for producing a gorgeous sound makes him forget the bar lines.