George Enescu: Romanian Rhapsody No. 1; Suites 2 & 3

George Enescu (1881-1955) is still remembered today, fifty years after his death, as Romania’s greatest classical composer. He was also a virtuoso violinist. His many works in numerous genres remain largely unknown outside his native land except for the immensely popular Romanian Rhapsodies, but they deserve wider circulation in view of the beauty of their melodies, their brilliant orchestrations, and their strong characterization and originality. This recording offers two of Enescu’s orchestral suites in addition to the beloved Rhapsody No. 1. Dancing vivacity and colorful instrumentation are characteristics of these effervescent orchestra pieces. The Romanian Philharmonic Society was founded in 1868. Its conductors have included significant figures in Romanian music not to mention Enescu himself, whose name the orchestra incorporated into its title in 1955 as the George Enescu Bucharest Philharmonic. The current conductor is Cristian Mandeal, who studied with both Karajan and Celibidache. He has conducted numerous major orchestras and more than forty world premieres. Listen to samples

Enesco: Roumanian Rhapsody no 2

This is the finest performance of the complete Hungarian Dances. Antal Dorati, a Hungarian himself and a specialist in dance music, handles each of these jewels with just the right combination of rhythmic control and schmaltz. Brahms orchestrated only a few of them; the remainder were done by friends (Dvorák included) or commissioned by various music publishers to fill out the complete set. In this respect, they are less substantial than Dvorák's two sets of Slavonic Dances, which they in turn inspired. If you know only No. 5, or perhaps No. 1, then you owe it to yourself to hear this delightful collection. --David Hurwitz Listen to samples

George Enescu: Romanian Rhapsody in D Major, Op.11 No.2

George Enescu (1881-1955)

Born at Cordaremi, Romania in 1881, George Enescu was educated musically for the most part in Austria and France. In the latter country he studied with Gabrie Fauré (composition) and Martin Marsick (violin) at the Paris Conservatory. Enescu once admitted that most of the creative work by Romanians had been done in the early part of this century. The music is not influenced by the neighboring Slav, but by the Indain and Egyptian folk songs, introduced by the members of those remote races, now classed as gypsies, brought to Romania as servants of the Roman conquerors. However, Enescu’s music is considered to be his own, with traces of French and German influences but of a sensuous character that reflected personal esthetics rather than national moods.

Enescu composed two Romanian Rhapsodies and himself conducted the world premieres of his two Rhapsodies at one of Pablo Casals’ concerts in the Salle Gaveau, Paris, on February 7, 1908. The second Romanian Rhapsody opens with a slow subject which, although it is not the principal theme, is given considerable employment in the course of the work. The first subject is announced by the strings and twice repeated, each time more fully scored. Soon a melody is played by the English horn, while the strings play a tremolo near the bridge of their instruments. This idea is worked over and is followed by a return to the first theme fortissimo, this leading to the closing section, the theme of which is played by a solo viola.

Verdi: Overtures and Preludes

This is a gem from the Karajan catalog. He was a very great Verdi conductor, his orchestra was the best in the world--there are no reservations aobut everything on this CD. It stands above similar compioations by Sinopoli and Abbado, although they are very, very good also. A side by side comparison with the Abbado, by the way, indicates how profoundly the Berlin sound changed after Karajan's departure. I found it easier to grasp why so many veterans were downcast; Abbado's sound sacrificed the maigsterial quality Karajan had cultivated for decades, in favor of a leaner texture that has its own virtues. But when you also add Karajan's subtle, detailed imaginaiton in these well-known Verdi snippets, the result is breathtaking. Buy it now

Verdi: Complete Opera Overtures

This CD is superb in every way, from Bern Symphony's rich, crisp sound to La Selva's nuanced, dynamic conducting to the polished quality of recording. Recommended wholeheartedly to anyone interested in Verdi or in classical music in general. Buy it now

Verdi: Overture "Nabucco"

By: Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901)

When Giuseppe Verdi was ten a local shopkeeper, struck by his education; ten years later Verdi was appointed conductor of the local choir and orchestra, and married his patron’s daughter. He had no particular ambition to become an opera-composer, and It was only with the unexpected popular success of his third opera. Nabucco, that he took up opera-writing seriously, at the age of twenty-nine. By 1853 he was Italy’s leading composer and remained in that distinguished position until his death in 1901.

Nabucco, Verdi’s first great success, is the only one of his operas-unless one counts that anvil chorus in Trovatore-that is best known for a chorus: the celebrated lamentation “Va, pensiero,” (The chorus of Hebrew Slaves) which immediately became the unofficial anthem of the Italian independence movement and, sixty years later, would be sung spontaneously by Milan’s heartbroken masses at Verdi’s funeral.

The overture was written at the last moment on the suggestion; it is said, of Verdi’s brother-in-law. Mostly it is a free pot-pourri of themes taken from the opera, including the great chorus “Va, pensiero’” Characterized emphasizes the processional aspect of the opera.

Tchaikovsky: Capriccio Italien, Opus 45

Peter Ilyitch Tchaikovsky (1840-1893)



The decorative arts of 19th-century Russia abounded in glowing jewels, gleaming enamels and radiant cathedral colors. Under the Romanov czars, music especially reflected this love of the richly hued, and compositions drenched in wondrous sound were produced by one Russian after another.

But, surrounded as he was by manmade beauty, the upper-class Russian of the time was forced to escape from the bleak landscapes of his homeland by journeying to the colorful lands in the south of Europe. In Italy and Spain, especially, he could bask in the warmth of the sun, revel in the dazzle of the sky, and exult in the vivacity of the Latin temperament-all the while refreshing and revitalizing his normally wintry spirits.

Two especially well-traveled Russians of the late 19th century were Nikolai Rimsky Korsakov and Peter Ilyitch Tchaikovsky. Both were thoroughly at home in the world outside the confines of Russia-Rimsky-Korsakov through naval service, Tchaikovsky through his extensive concert tours-and both were highly receptive to the exotic sights and sounds of foreign lands. Rimsky-Korsakov’s enthusiastic description of a visit to Rio de Janeiro in 1863 is typical of his affection for things Latin : “The water in the bay was green-blue by day and phosphorescent at night, the shore and mountains a gorgeous green…The market was filled with endless quantities of oranges and wonderful bananas, as well as monkeys and parrots. The New World, the Southern hemisphere, a tropical winter in June!” Then one can almost hear him sigh as the composer wrote: “Everything was different—not the same as with us in Russia.”

Although the called himself “Russian in the fullest sense of the word, “Tchaikovsky was not regarded as such by his strongly nationalistic fellow musicians. Because of his extensive conservatory training and the “western” influence they felt in his work, the Russian Five (Balakirev, Borodin, Cui, Mussorgsky and Rimsky-Korsanov) generally considered Tchaikovsky to be outside the mainstream of the all-Russian music movement.

Tchaikovsky was however, “Russian in the fullest sense” in his appreciation of folk music of his own country and of those he visited. While touring Italy during 1880, he settled for three months in Rome, taking up residence near the barracks of the Royal Cuirassiers. Here his ear was caught by lively Italian street songs and the music of the military ceremonies nearby. During this period he also delved into volumes of folk music in search of material to use in what he called “an Italian fantasy.” To his patroness, Mme von Meck, he wrote: “Thanks to the charming themes, some of which come from collections and some of which I have heard in the streets, this work will be effective.”

Tchaikovsky possessed a remarkable talent for instrumentation, instinctively scoring his works to obtain a maximum variety of color and the widest possible range of total effects. His Capriccio Italien, vibrant with the raw colors of its Italian song and dance rhythms, is one of his most popular works and shows the composer’s complete mastery of orchestration. Its music passes vigorously from the opening trumpet call (echoes of the Cuirassiers) through a slightly melancholy phrase to a climax of power and brilliance reminiscent of the popular Italian dance, the Tarantella. Listen to samples

Shostakovich: Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op.47

The aesthetic character of this reading of the fifth Shostakovich symphony lies about halfway in-between the apollonian objectivity of Haitink's recording with the Amsterdam Concertgebouw at one end of the spectrum, and the dionysian emotional abandon of Bernstein's 1959 album (not the other, and inferior, 80s recording) with the New York Philharmonic at the other. Both of those other recordings are very good, and each approach reveals different things in this gorgeous score; I find that Neeme Järvi's performance here incorporates many of the virtues of both Haitink's more detached, matter-of-fact reading in some passages and Bernstein's passionate, over-the-top reading in others. It's a marvelous interpretation of a piece that easily has enough depth to convey different shades of meaning with each different approach to it. The ballet suite from The Bolt isn't the score that the Fifth is, but it's captivating and powerful, and since it's rarely heard it makes this disc the best album of the three I've considered here, if you're looking at the program as a whole and not just at the symphony. I can't imagine that anyone who's interested in orchestral music wouldn't really, really like this album. --D. Jack Elliot Listen to samples

Dmitri Shostakovich: Symphony No.5, Opus 47

Dmitri Shostakovick (1906 - 1975)



1 Moderato 2. Allegretto 3. Largo 4.Allegro non troppo

Cellos and double basses open the symphony with a declamatory theme characterized by wide leaps, the violins stating the same theme antiphonally. A short descending figure for first violins soon appears, of which much is made later in the movement. Then the violins begin a lengthy and melodious theme, leading to a passage in which the horns and woodwind are prominently employed. A brief and dissonant climax is reached and a second theme is introduced over a persistent rhythmic figure for lower strings, and the harp. The theme itself, stated by the first violins (espressivo), is again characterized by the wide leaps and plunges in intervals that distinguish the entire movement. Divided violas and cellos antiphonally end this part of the movement with a brief phrase from which proceed solo passages for flute and clarinet. Horns now enter with a pretentious theme over a persistent rhythm for lower strings and piano. The animation increases as strings and woodwind expand the brief descending phrase that occurred at the beginning of the movement. A rapid march section now ensues, brass and wind presenting a jaunty version of presented material, leading to an impassioned return on strings and wind of the opening theme and a tremendous climax in unison for strings and wind. Now the second theme returns presented by flute and born over the insistent rhythm of the strings. Woodwind plays a prominent part; the clarinet, oboe, and bassoon engaging in an extended passage, which leads to a quiet closing section, in which fragments of the leaping theme are presented by trumpet and lower strings, while the celesta adds a somewhat chilling effect as the movement ends. After the heroic cast of the first movement, the second movement (Allegretto) has a gay and boisterous quality that furnishes much needed diversion. The rhythm alternates between ¾ and 4/4 and times; the themes are obvious enough and they recur in more or less the conventional manner of the classical scherzo with its trios and repeats. The solo violin, flute, and bassoon are used with exhilarating effect during the course of the movement; the quartet of horns is prominently employed and the xylophone brightens the texture of music periodically.

For his intense and Rhapsodic slow movement, the composer has dispensed with the brass instruments all together, has divided his violins into three sections, violas and cellos into two, respectively, and relies on harp, piano, and celesta to add bright glints to his orchestral palette. Third violins, first violas, and second cellos begin the movement with an expressive, and at times almost liturgical, section, presenting the main thematic material. This leads to an episode, memorable for its beauty, for the harp and two flutes. The strings again take up the burden of the movement and are soon joined by wind in an impressive passage (largamente). A new and intense episode is now presented by solo oboe and clarinet over a string tremolo. The fervor of the movement is caught by all the instruments as they join in a string proclamation. A new episode is brought forward by the lower strings to the accompaniment of a semiquaver figure by the clarinets and the persisting violin tremolo, which ends in a brief and powerful climax. A descending figure on the cellos restores the quiet intensity of the opening; harp and celesta combine magically with the tremolo of the first violins as the movement ends.

Timpani and brass, as if they had been silent too long, open the finale of the symphony with a stirring them in march rhythm, which is to return periodically to this rondo-like movement. Strings and woodwind soon join in a subsidiary theme, but quickly the march theme makes itself heard from the trombones, bassoons, and lower strings. This is expanded at length, leading to a passage (accelerando) for horns and strings. After a short while, the main theme of the first movement is hinted at by the solo trumpet over a rushing semiquaver accompaniment for wind and string and this material is transformed into a passage of tremendous power. Then a diminuendo brings a contrasting section, opening with a passage for solo horn, which gradually re-establishes the mood of the slow movement.

But the urgency of the march theme is not to be denied and soon timpani and side drum are heard. The excitement mounts as brass and woodwind play with thematic material, while the strings remain silent for a time as the initial enthusiasm of the movement is recaptured. Finally the strings re-enter; the piano and an assortment of percussion instruments join in an apotheosis of the march theme—a musical affirmation of compelling power and sweeping grandeur, for a parallel to which one must go back to Sibelius’s second symphony or some of the symphonies of the nineteenth-century masters.