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.
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.
Jamie Walton is joined by the Philharmonia Orchestra under the baton of their conductor laureate Vladimir Ashkenazy for this new concerto recording of concertos and orchestral works by Dvorák and Schumann. Jamie Walton has proved himself as a leading light in UK's musical life; as a performer in his widely praised concerto and sonata recordings, and as a festival director in his work as founder of the North York Moors Festival, which was shortlisted for an RPS Award in 2011.
Clara… Clara Wieck, who became Clara Schumann after marrying Robert in 1840, was a precocious and exceptional pianist. Starting recitals at the age of ten, she possessed a powerful technique and deep expressive capacity that she showcased in tours across Europe. After tense years, because Frédéric Wieck, her father and Robert’s teacher, deterred their rush to get married, when the union finally brought them familial happiness, it also brought numerous children, for which Clara’s career, although not stopped entirely, was limited considerably. Admired by Chopin, Liszt, and Mendelssohn as a performer, and more than admired, she was revered (and loved) by Brahms. As a composer, she wasn’t formally ambitious but she did display fine sensitivity and delicate inspiration. Her works always revolved around the piano, an instrument for which she cultivated brief forms typical of the romantic awakening, such as impromptus, waltzes, caprices, nocturnes, romances, and fantasies, and she also composed for the piano accompanying the voice (Lieder) and in various chamber formations, even with an orchestra.
"His music is poetry," writes Kian Soltani in his own liner notes for his much-anticipated, all-Schumann release. Together with Camerata Salzburg, the young cellist simultaneously plays and conducts the monumental Cello Concerto, as well as orchestrated songs. Additionally, the album includes a smattering of Soltani's most cherished lieder transcriptions, accompanied by pianist Julien Quentin.
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.