Nino Sevilha

Seventh album from Carlos Niño, the Los Angeles polymath, enlists trusted friends to mould another astral, Afro-futuristic suite of unrelenting beauty which teeters at the edge of New Age and spiritual jazz.

Inspired by the works of Italian medieval writer/poet Boccaccio (the Decameron), Federico Fellini, Luchino Visconti, and Vittorio de Sica each directed a short starring Anita Ekberg, Romy Schneider, and Sophia Loren, respectively; Italian soundtrack heavyweights Nino Rota and Armando Trovajoli provided the necessary musical accompaniment. The result was the film Boccaccio 70 and music that frames a kaleidoscope of styles with dramatic panache. Trovajoli, in particular, mixes it up with cha-cha-chas, march pieces, waltzes, circus themes, and jazz – the highlight, though, is his Latin vocal feature, "Soldi! Soldi! Soldi!," sung by a surprisingly effective Loren. Unlike Trovajoli, Rota doesn't focus on one style per piece, but instead fills his symphonic-worthy sides with a seamless blend of many of the same styles, peppering the landscape with trademark doses of pipe-organ moodiness, can-can rhythms, and dusky string passages. And as far as jazz goes, Rota furnishes the Visconti segment with some very worthy combo ballads redolent of Miles Davis' own soundtrack venture, Ascenseur Pour L'Echafaud.

Only months after ASV's selection of chamber music by Nino Rota, which I reviewed in the May issue, here is another disc to prove that his output was not restricted to his highly effective film scores. This one is by an expert Milanese group, newly formed by the pianist Massimo Palumbo. Its programme overlaps with ASV's in the two postwar trios; at slightly slower speeds, Chandos's Ensemble Nino Rota gets rather more out of these essays in very mild modernism than ASV's Ex Novo Ensemble.

It's great to see the music of Nino Rota getting so much attention. He was a wonderful composer, and the ballet suite from La strada may be his orchestral masterpiece (just a quick note: the French language title identifies this as a suite from the eponymous film; it is in fact the more familiar arrangement of the later ballet). There are now four competitive recordings of this piece, the least interesting of which is on Chandos with the Teatro Massimo orchestra: not bad, but not as well played or recorded as either Muti's slightly stiff version with the excellent La Scala forces, or Atma's brilliant recent release featuring the Greater Montréal Metropolitan Symphony Orchestra under Yannick Nézet-Séguin. All of the couplings differ in various ways, though Muti also has the dances from Il gattopardo (The Leopard).

The album “Aufgelebt” is all about revival, rebirth and recreation, the promise of new beginnings. Beethoven worked on his Piano Concerto No. 4 and the Op. 61a (piano version of a violin concerto) in the same period of his life. Both concertos were neglected and would have been forgotten had it not been for the attention of Felix Mendelssohn, who revived the Fourth Piano Concerto in 1836 and conducted the violin concerto, in 1844. Since then, these two concertos have been considered to be masterpieces of classical music literature. The Violin Concerto had yet another chance of rebirth long before young Joachim’s success. After attending the premier of the piece, Muzio Clementi asked Beethoven to transcribe the work for piano and orchestra. His wish was promptly fulfilled by the composer, who at the same time enriched the Concerto with authentic cadenzas, of which the first - in the First Movement - is very special as the piano is accompanied by timpani!