A remarkably intimate recording of Schumann's Cello Concerto in A minor, this performance by Anne Gastinel and the Orchestre Philharmonique de Liège, directed by Louis Langrée, may be a little too forward for the average listener's comfort. Direct Stream Digital engineering places Gastinel front and center – almost in one's living room – and the orchestra is not far behind. Such "living presence" may be an audiophile's delight, but others may find the proximity disconcerting, especially because Gastinel's bowing seems overly resinous up close. However, this is the only complaint worth making about this disc, for Gastinel is wonderfully expressive and the orchestra is extraordinarily balanced and clear in its timbres, no mean achievement in Schumann's problematic, thick orchestration. The remaining performances are less forwardly recorded and sound pleasant and natural, with a fresh spontaneity that feels more like a recital than a studio session.
Mischa Maisky performs with the Vienna Symphony and Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Leonard Bernstein in concertos by Haydn and Schumann. “Maisky and his players perform the Haydn with warm, polished energy. His Schumann, with a fairly restrained Bernstein, sometimes overdoes the languishing, but it's beautiful playing, and visually compelling.” (BBC Misic Magazine)
Philippe Herreweghe directs these Schumann concertos with severity and urgency, with an impact that’s particularly strong in the opening movement of the A minor piano concerto. The soloist is Andreas Staier, who plays a mid-19th century J.B. Streicher instrument. But it’s not just the use of period instruments (this is certainly the kind of piano Schumann would have known) that proves so fascinating here; rather, it’s the minutely detailed way in which soloist and conductor interact during this performance. Note, for instance, how astutely Herreweghe’s wind players articulate the sorrowful first subject group after the soloist’s opening salvo, a passage that sets the tone for all that follows.
If ever a performance of Schumann's Piano Concerto stressed the principle of dialogue between soloist and conductor, then this is it. True, the Philharmonia's string ensemble isn't as watertight under Fischer-Dieskau as it might have been under some other conductors; and poetry is invested at the premium of relatively low-level drama. Orchestral textures are absolutely right for Schumann – warm yet transparent, full-bodied yet never stodgy – and poetry is a major priority. Add Barenboim's compatible vision and keyboard finesse, and you indeed have a memorable reading.
Seemingly on an impulse, Robert Schumann wrote his Cello Concerto in A minor, Op. 129, during two weeks in 1850, heading towards the last years of lucidity and life. Schumann may never have heard it played as the concerto did not premiere until seven months after his death. On this disc we have the opportunity of hearing not only the Cello Concerto but three other pieces written for cello and piano, the Adagio and Allegro perhaps being the most well known..
The collaboration between cellist Zoe Knighton and pianist Amir Farid continues with a collection of short works by Clara and Robert Schumann.
This very well recorded disc from 1996 and 1997 contains all Schumann's output for solo cello. There are full notes on this by Isserlis supplied with the disc. The concerto will be the main focus of attention for most potential purchasers and this disc provides one of the best, is not the best, performance on disc that is currently available. Such a sweeping observation is one that must be made with extreme care but in this case it seems justified. The performance offers a number of complementary attractions being thoughtful but both lively and reflective at all the right moments.
Praised for his ‘passion and sensitivity’ by the BBC Music Magazine for his recording of the concertos by Dohnányi, Enescu & d’Albert, Alban now turns his attention to works by four of his compatriots: Robert Schumann, Friedrich Gernsheim, Robert Volkmann and Albert Dietrich. This collective, along with Johannes Brahms, were all friends and colleagues, each achieving considerable success in their lifetime, yet it is only Schumann and Brahms who have managed to hold onto that mantle through to the present day. Even Schumann’s Cello Concerto, written in 1850, remained unperformed until 1860 and it wasn’t until the early twentieth century that, thanks to Pablo Casals, it secured its rightful place in the repertoire.