Dear Readers,

Music for score is what we treat in this column. Even the scores which ask for improvisation find flavors different from those in “free improvisation,” although yearly the gap closes. From Scarlatti to Antheil, here we go unalphabetically for a wide range of composed scores.

by Steve Koenig

GEORGE CRUMB. Makrokosmos, Volumes 1 and 2. Laurie Hudicek, prepared piano. Furious Artisans FACD 6805, 65:14, arkivmusic.com

This new label keeps on its winning streak here. The work in question is a pair of piano sequences based upon themes of the zodiac. Crumb’s soundworld, for those unfamiliar, can be sparse and magical. Laurie Hudicek takes this work most seriously. The opening “Primeval Sounds” is slow and deliberate, with resonances of the Chopin Third Sonata. This is not at all inappropriate, as Crumb did intend to pay homage to his predecessors within Makrokosmos. (Even the title, to Bartók.) The following “Proteus” is Messiaenic birdplay.

Overall, by contrast with Hudicek, Boris Gorisek (Audiophile Classics) is forceful, at times even macho. My longtime favorite, Robert Groslot (Queen Elizabeth LP or Fidelio CD) is mysterious and fleet; I also find favor with his Debussy and Messiaen (my favorite Vingt Regards) discs.

For some reason, I don’t take to the (in the score) vocalizing as performed by the women who’ve recorded this (Emmy Henz-Diemand on Musikscene Schweiz; Jo Boatwright on Music & Arts). I’ve greatly enjoyed rehearing many different takes on this masterpiece, wouldn’t give any of them up, but this new one by Hudicek earns special praise for giving each of the two times twelve pieces its own soundworld without losing any of the total architecture. Superb graphic design and the booklet includes excellent notes as well as the spiraling graphic score.

GEORGE ANTHEIL. Ballet Mécanique. Philadelphia Virtuosi Chamber Orchestra, Daniel Spalding, cond. Naxos 8.559060, 59:05, naxos.com

The so-called “bad boy” of music has been getting much play as of late, and only a few works seem to be so “bad.” The notorious ballet of this collection’s title has become a standard of “new” (composed in 1926) music. My first version of it, on a stunning LP of percussion music conducted by William Kraft, still wins the prize for passion and craggy wildness. A recent recording by Ensemble Modern and HK Gruber plays it suavely and with panache, but the recording at hand is so comfortable that it becomes a leisurely, fluid ballet. Others might find this performance too conservative, but I find it a fascinating new look into a familiar piece. I’m glad to have all these perspectives.

Ensemble Modern’s Concert for Chamber Orchestra, originally called the Octet for Winds, is exciting, and swings like Bernstein’s Fancy Free. At first, the Philadelphia seemed a bit unsure, but it quickly finds its pacing and place, most appropriately in the mood and soundworld of Milhaud’s little symphonies. It’s a most enjoyable work that could easily and should find its way into the basic concert hall repertoire.

The Serenade for String Orchestra, No. 1, is totally beautiful. The middle movement has the static effect of an Arvo Pärt piece, but with balls, plus it was composed in 1948. Additionally, that movement uses a beautiful melody that could be taken was the type of “Indian” melody used by MacDowell or Dvorák. The closing vivo has a dancelike sprung rhythms that are charming and exciting; any lover of Prokofiev or Copland ballets will find favor with this. This too should be an easy addition to the mainstream repertoire.

Symphony for Five Instruments (second version) is spiky, Stravinskian (Soldat) in effect with a touch of Ivesian lines leapfrogging.

This is a must-have, even if it weren’t available for under eight dollars.

The CALEFAX REED QUINTET celebrates with fifteenth anniversary by covering 600 Years (MDG Scene MDG 619 1043-2, 57:11, kochentertainment.com)

on one disc, from Ockeghem to Strayhorn, all, of course, arranged for brass and reeds. The Calefax uses oboe, oboe d’amore, English horn, soprano and alto saxophones, clarinet and bass clarinet, bassoon, and basset horn. The overture to Tchaikowsky’s Nutcracker gets a delightfully whimsical and speedy spin. The arrangement of Debussy’s “La plus que lente” seems a mistake, smoothing out the contours of the piece. The Calefax do a wonderful thing with Strays’ “Lush Life,” the five lines beautifully resonating the world-weariness of the lyric and it ends soulfully. Ben Webster and The Duke’s “Jump For Joy” is cute rather than jumping, the (I think English) horn taking the bass line, but it it nice, Marko Tajcevi`c’s Seven Balkan Dances from taken ten minutes but are so slight on ethnic or any other flavor that there’s not much more to say about them. An arrangement of the 14th century dance “Estampie” is lovely, but my problem with the disc is the sound. Musikproduktion Dabringhaus und Grimm always have excellent engineering, and continue to do so here, but the brass sounds, well, too brassy. Too much for the ears to take an hour of it. Not echoey, but extremely bright and yellow; I don’t like brass fixtures in my home either. You might love it. Not enough is tempered by the reeds. With their obvious skill, I’d like to hear them tackle some thorny twentieth century compositions, which might well be in their concert or recorded repertory.

ALEXEI LUBIMOV, piano. Der Bote: Elegies for Piano. ECM New Series 1771, 56:26, ecmrecords.com

One does not buy a disc such as this to acquire gaps in the catalog; one appreciates the concept and the programming. There also is little need to compare performances.

The opening of Tigran Mansurian’s “Nostalgia” evokes the promenade at the exhibition. The beautifully aching piece following CPE Bach’s piano fantasy turns out to be Cage’s “In A Landscape.” One revels in Lubimov’s ability to shift gears yet weave the strands of these ten diverse compositions (and composers’ styles) into a unified thread making this CD a single, significant entity. Lizst’s “Abschied” is so much more... a last glance goodbye, when surrounded by Mansurian and Glinka than it would be alone.

I’ve played this piece by piece, individually, as well as putting it on full spin and washing in the delicate yet strong playing. Bartók, Debussy, Chopin, Silvestrov. Brilliant programming and a repeatedly rewarding acquisition. Hey I just thought of this: Those of us with a random programming button... Highly recommended.

Lorenzo ESPAñA. La Nueva España. Naxos, 71:33, naxos.com

Naxos premieres six symphonic poems by Spanish composer Lorenzo España, collectively called La Nueva España. Thematically, the conquest of the Americas made a promising subject, but this falls under the light symphonic category, nearly film music. Music about an Aztec rebellion sounds like background pieces missing a PBS special as frontground. Nah, I’m exaggerating. This is up to par with some of the very best film music of the forties and fifties, and if that’s your thing, I’d gamble the few Naxos dollars for a spin. Hmm, maybe a filmmaker reading this might be inspired to...

Igor STRAVINSKY. The Rite of Spring. Alexander SCRIABIN. The Poem of Ecstasy. Valery Gergiev, Kirov Orchestra. Philips 289 486 035-2, 55:20, universalclassics.com

When I first heard this Rite with half an ear, while doing other thing, it made little impression on me; it seemed too smooth, but Gergiev had impressed me so many times in concert that I had to give it a full shot. I’m glad I did. This Rite combines absolute tautness of ensemble, yet when it needs to lumber like the oxcart in Pictures, it does. The winds of “The Mystic Circle of Girls” swirl like a Britten seascape. So often one hears the caustic, slashing strings of Bernstein, but of course good old Igor came before Benjy and Lenny. “The Glorification of the Chosen One” has the tight rhythmic snap of “Dance At The Gym,” and repetitive figures that would make Phil Glass proud. This isn’t a grunge (read: clunky peasant) version but a complete synthesis of the ritualistic and the balletic. Nor is it too formal; it just is in control, especially when it loosens at appropriate segments. I own way too many Rites to start comparisons (my most recent favorites have been by Markevitch and Frübeck de Burgos), but let me finish simply by saying after a dozen auditions in a short time, this is likely to wind up being my favorite yet, as it both conveys the passion of the narrative and reveals the beauty of the orchestration.

I confess unfamiliarity with The Poem of Ecstasy, and though this performance seems to have all the colors right, and some Mahleresque brass calls and builds, the piece doesn’t move me. Scriabin’s premise here is the ecstasy of creation, not romance, yet it still I feel little. Comparing it to my only other version, a 1968 London performance by Svetlanov and the USSR State Orchestra on Intaglio, Svetlanov finds much more high romance in the piece, and even though it is much less well recorded than Gergiev, it offers much more lilt and ecstasy. It also sounds very Russian, perhaps martial as well. I still don’t love the piece but appreciate it more.

The booklet of the present disc features photos of a ferocious looking Gergiev, a 1913 photo of Nijinksky performing Rite, a page of its original manuscript score, and delightfully selected photos of both composers, each in a whimsical pose of an artiste. Gergiev has previously coupled these composers on another Philips disc I haven’t heard, Firebird and Prometheus.

Joseph-Guy ROPARTZ. Le Pays. Mireille Delunsch, Kaethe. Tual, Gille Ragon. Olivier Lallouette, Jörgen. OP du Luxembourg, Jean-Yves Ossonce. Timpani 2C 2065, 2 CDs, 60:53 + 48:55, qualiton.com

My previous experience with Guy Ropartz is with two sonatas for cello and piano on Cybelia CY 847 which have given me much please; they have that French/Franck/Fauré yearning to them, yet they sound more modern as well. Composed between 1908-1910, Le Pays has a timeless quality about it. The title could be translated either as the country, the countryside, or, more apt here, the land. As an opera (actually: a “music drama in three acts and four scenes”), it is filled with luscious melodies and orchestral swells. It have much of the Romantic period about it, yet it also at times sounds like Richard Strauss and, less frequently, Massenet. This is very accessible and yet filled with riches. One can appreciate it it totally for the beauty of the orchestral writing, as well as the impassioned singing even without looking at the libretto. This is a nationalistic work of Brittany. a somewhat gothic tale of a shipwrecked seaman who makes a vow to the daughter of his rescuer, that he shall stay with her always. They seal the deal with a curse that should he betray his promise, he should drown in the peat bogs, You can figure the rest. One hears seascapes, but not isolated as in La Mer or Billy Budd; it is as integral a part of the sound fabric as it is of the coast of Brittany; lesser and greater Straussian swellings of orchestra. This cries out for performances in concert, if not staged. Thanks again to Timpani for a sumptuous production, both aurally and in the packaging, with its easy to read side by side French-English libretto, as well as for uncovering every little-covered corner of the French repertoire from this to the mélodies of Les Six, the complete chamber music of Honnegger, and the recent series of Xenakis orchestral works.

Janet BAKER. Chausson: Poème de l’amour et de la mer. Berlioz: Les nuits d’été. Schoenberg: Gurrelieder: Song of the Wood Dove. BBC Legends BBCL 4077-2, 75.15, kochentertainment.com

Taken from concerts at the Royal Festival Hall in 1975, this will be an easy purchase for all fans of this mezzo-soprano. I’ve long cherished her EMI studio recordings of the Chausson and Berlioz, and although these live recordings are more tentative than those, with some shaky starts of notes and of ensemble, each work builds in security and passion as it proceeds. Svetlanov conducts the Chausson with the LSO, and it could be more... French. (Note that this performance has already been released in an 1996 disc, Carlton/BBC Radio Classics 15656 917420, coupled with with Margaret Price/Malcolm Sargent doing the Ravel Shehérézade, also a Baker trademark.) Guilini leads the LPO in the Berlioz, which gains fluidity and momentum as it proceeds. By the time of “Au cimitiére,” both Baker and the band are tight, and you can merely luxuriate in some of the notes she pins (I always think of Baker as a warrior; even her amazingly sad “Dido’s Lament,” which was my introduction to this singer, is of fierceness and courage.) The real treat here is the Schoenberg, recorded earlier than the rest. I don’t know whether Baker’s done the piece in the studio, but with Norman del Mar at the helm of the LSO, it’s a role she handles with aplomb.

Songs of Alexander MONTGOMERIE, Poet to James VI of Scotland. Paul Rendall, tenor, and Rob MacKillop, lute. (ASV Gaudeamus CD GAU 249, 74.15, kochentertainment.com)

Randalls’s tenor is rich and solid, making this set easy on the ears. Ditto for his enunciation (in French, Scottish, English, German and Anglo-Genevan!). He lets the songs speak and never overemotes. He does vary tempo and in songs like “Come, my Childrene dere drau neir me” the speed is catchy (no pun) and draws close the listener. Mackillop’s lute partners Randall admirably, avoiding the plodding plunking of too many troubadour discs. The booklet’s notes are excellent and include fascinating history of the relationship between the teen king, enamoured of poetry, and his favorite poet Montgomerie, and all texts, though no explanation of the history of the two texts set by Clement Jannequin. One day I’d also like to hear one of these “classical” singers paired with a British master “folk” guitarist such as Bert Jansch or John Renbourn. who in the 1960 and 70s did so much to revive the traditional songs of the British Isles.

BORODIN. The Two String Quartets. St. Petersburg String Quartet. Dorian DOR-90307, 65:05, dorian.com

BORODIN STRING QUARTET. Borodin SQ2; Shostakovich SQ8; Ravel SQ. BBC Legends BBCL 4063-2, 73:42, kochentertainment.com

When I was a pup learning music and audio from Stereo Review and HiFidelity, SR sold a pamphlet which was a precursor to tomes like the Penguin Guide. Once they also had an article, buyer’s guide, actually, of what they considered the significant string quartets. As I’d known the majority of them, when they recommended the Borodin String Quartets, I was surprised: I’d only known this composer through a teevee commercial for “all the classical music your family will ever need.” I tried them once through a library loan, yawned, and went on with my life until these arrived.

The Borodin String Quartet’s live version of #2 is less pastoral, less fluid, slightly jauntier yet somehow the cheer is held closer to the cheek. Counterpoint matters more than narrative. Their take is interesting but less emotional until the finale, which is taken almost like a dare, each instrument taunting the other.

By contrast, the version of #2 by the Hollywood String Quartet (Testament SBT 1061) makes the most of melody line; one can visualize a film of a tender village countryside, with all kinds of human and pastoral interactions, someone singing the melody as they walk through the fields or watch their children grow up. The sentiment is there yet it is not sentimental. Whether dancing, storytelling, or being modern with it’s pizzicatic slashes, all four lines are remarkably clear, yet one. When it’s time for more abstractness, near the closing, it’s marked and tautly moving. It’s coupled with Tchaikowsky and Glazunov.

The Borodin’s Ravel quartet, I’m afraid, is missing the ascerbic Gallic tone which I find necessary to the piece. I didn’t warm to it, but I find it intriguing, which is always valuable. But let’s change the tense as I take them on their own terms. The slurs and carefully awkward rhythms in this performance made me think of Debussy’s sea. The recording makes the bass’s pizzacato sound like low strings of a harp, in relief to the flowing, bowing trio. The Brit-folk pastoral sound of the center movement is appropriately dancing and haunting as they slither into silence.

This disc has me reconsidering pieces I thought I knew well, and forced a reintroduction to the Borodin, which delights me.

John CAGE. Voice and Piano. Steffen Schleiermacher, piano. MD+G Scene 613 1076, 76:47, kochentertainment.com

The main course here is Four Walls, a slow, meandering piano work which Steffen Schleiermacher takes at 58:54. It is one of those pieces which seems touched by Erik Satie, who the present pianist is also commencing to record for MD+G.

Time is suspended, not quite like in Feldman, but there is stasis. In fact, several times you think the piece has ended when it hasn’t. Joshua Pierce’s version (Albany TROY 197) is not all that different although at moments he plays with a harder touch, five minutes shorter, and the recording in more up-front, but not as smooth as MD+G’s. Margaret Leng Tan’s takes 58:12 (New Albion NA 037CD), Her take is more fluid than either Peirce or Schleiermacher, making Four Walls whole cloth rather than suspended in air. I’m glad to have both options.

Frank BRIDGE. “Orchestral Works, Volume 1.” Enter Spring. Isabella, Symphonic Poem after Keats. Two Poems for Orchestra. Mid of the Night. Richard Hickox, BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Chandos CHAN 9950, 75.:48, kochentertainment.com

The feature here is the premiere recording of Bridge’s interesting, if semi-successful, tone poem, Mid of the Night. A Wagner horn musically recalls, well, Wagner, but a little further in this twenty-six minute piece, we have the flavor of the British pastoral oboe. Midway there are delightful moments of sustained tension courtesy of the string session, and then everything starts swirling as if we suddenly were transported to Smetana’s Ma Vlast. Bridge fans will want this, of course, but even newcomers to this fine composer should have no doubts at all about the other pieces on this well-filled disc.

The most famous is Enter Spring, subtitled “rhapsody for orchestra.” It’s an eighteen-minute rowdy welcome to growth spurts, Maypole and all. This performance is very fluid, yet a bit rich for my taste (read: bombastic, as in some of Holst’s planets). Hickox’ forces give it all the grandeur they’ve got. John Carewe’s performance on LP, Pearl SHE 601, with the Cologne RSO, would be easily dismissed and discarded as too cinematic, save the piece Oration on the flip side. If I may quote from Paul Hindmarsh’s notes on the Pearl LP, a critic at the 1927 premiere felt, “No doubt many characteristics of his style, which seem if anything too fain to some of us, sounded strange and perhaps grotesque to an audience who hears a modern orchestral work once in three years.”

As an alternative, Sir Charles Groves leads the BBCSO in a more Modern(read: angular, as in the opening of Vaughan Williams’ London Symphony) reading on Carlton/BBC Radio Classics 15656.91752 which I find irresistible. The Groves makes your body dance to the dances, and your head nod to the fine instrumental detail. That disc cleverly couples (triples?) Enter Spring with Britten’s Spring Symphony and Bridge’s tone poem Summer.

Isabella is a moody, effective, and episodic tone poem based on a horror story. There are string and horn phrases which are odd anagrams of the melodic phrase “He shall assist me to look high” from Elgar’s Sea Pictures. The Two Poems for Orchestra are real finds. The first is an abstract piece, the second an exciting scherzo. I’m delighted to make their acquaintance, especially as Hickox effects just the right detail and spirit for this pair of brief works. I look forward to the rest of this series

Leos JANACEK. String Quartets 1, 2. Skampa Quartet. Supraphon SU- 3486-2 131, 41:09, qualiton.com

Supraphon is joining the “big boys,” with a cardboard sleeve over the jewelbox, very attractive design and a picture label of the intense cover painting. This just adds value to the best performances I’ve heard yet of this pair. If you have the classic 1960s Supraphon disc by the Janacek, don’t throw it away, for it has special flavor. The Raphael, on Globe, do a fine job as well. I dumped the turgid Medici on Nimbus, fine as they can be in other works, immediately after my first listen to the Skampa. They do everything right. The folkloric elements are clearly in force, without the feeling a field recording had just been spliced in, or summoned for reference. The romantic (small r) elements are passionate, and everything is intoned and recorded cleanly. This is the one to have if you’re only having one.

Marian ANDERSON. Softly Awakes My Heart: Arias, Songs and Spirituals 1924-1944. Naxos Nostalgia 8.120566, 65:38, naxos.com.

These transfers by Peter Dempsey carry plenty of color, and one is aware of slight tape hiss but one doesn’t have to “listen through” it to hear the music. This is my first real appreciation of Anderson, my only previous contact being an RCA Victrola Americana series LP. On that one, her voice seemed the caricature of the opera-type singers in Marx Brothers films. Here, the communication is direct; this is no warbler, famous merely for historico-political reasons. English versions of arias from Samson et Delilah join a few Schubert lieder and the requisite spirituals, mostly the well-known arrangements by Burleigh. It’s the voice that moves me here, described by tenor and engineer Dempsey as an “unexpected fusion of contralto, mezzo and soprano.” Sometimes I felt as if I were hearing English even when in reality the texts were not. This series carries a ten dollar list price; it’s a bargain which wasn’t done on the cheap.

Gian Carlo MENOTTI. Violin Concerto. Muero porque no muero. Oh llama de amor viva. The Death of Orpheus. Richard Hickox, Spoleto Festival Orchestra and Choir. Chandos CHAN 9979, 61:16, kochentertainment.com

Menotti is most famous for his operas, most significantly the Christmas work Amahl and the Night Visitors, which continually delights even this avowed atheist. Beyond Amahl, I only know his choral piece Apocalypse, via an older Koch CD. The violin concerto. which runs a half hour, is melodic and lovely, which does little for me. The middle Adagio has some nice flute/violin interplay, and a couple of brass notes that threaten to turn into “America The Beautiful.” The other two movements make the violin scamper a lot, with delightful ballet-like interludes. What I want to talk about is The Death of Orpheus, for which, without exaggeration, I’d buy the disc again if it were to be lost or damaged. It starts with a very Bernstein-like introduction, and the chorus calling out in vocalise (which, not having read the text, my ears first heard as “Come back! Come back!), but immediately becomes pure Menotti upon entrance of the tenor. He has the rare ability to write interestingly for an English text which is easy for the listener to understand and fit the natural flow of English speech rather than force it into an ‘avant garde’ structure. I was able to follow most of it without reading the booklet. (This compliment comes from a devout worshipper of Pierrot Lunaire.) Menotti has the also rare acumen to use literalisms in his music without a sense of cliché: the few measures of martial drums at the mention of a “trampled” battlefield, but just those few, a fleeting scent, a hint. He creates sea motif for the floating head of Orpheus (Chandos provides an aptly creepy cover photo; they should market this to the Death Ambient crowd, too) that recalls neither La Mer or Billy Budd? He manages this by an unnervingly realistic swell of the waves; you fear an undertow. The other two cantatas, also strong, smartly precede the overwhelming Orpheus with yearningly religious texts by St. Teresa de ´Avila (“I’m dying because I can’t die” [and go to heaven]) and San Juan de la Cruz (“O delicate affliction!” [of loving God]. Texts are provided in four languages; thank you Chandos. Interestingly, Italian is not one of them, but Italians probably can intuit from the French and Spanish.

Richard TOENSING. Flute Concertos of Angels and Shepherds. CRI CD 883, 55.01, cri.org

I have other Toensing works on various compilation LPs not yet in my database, but I recall enjoying them. here we find the composer working magic with a Concerto for Flute and Wind Ensemble. Neither conservative nor avant, the various flutes played by Leone Buyse with fluidity of breath and style make fine foil for the orchestra, filled with clicking keys, a full complement of percussion, and lots of brass. Theodore Kuchar conducts the National Symphony of the Ukraine, and he can be found on lots of recent records ( which I haven’t yet heard) on label such as Naxos, with the same ensemble, presenting lots of music which otherwise might remain unheard. This is a more than worthy piece for any new music lover, and mandatory for flute aficionados. The notes tell that recently the composer concerted to the Eastern Orthodox Church, and he must be praised for making original music which shows nary an influence of such tedious new-religios as John Tavener, who once made delightful collages of sound, even though this was written before his conversion. The Fantasia (of Angels and Shepherds) for cello and percussion is influenced by the tale of the birth of Christ, and it too has an original sound, even though some of it is permuted from Eastern Orthodox and Lutheran Sources. This is a gorgeous piece, stunningly recorded by Kevin Harbison, and one can tastes flavor in it as disparate as Crumb and Bartók. The second section is stringily rhythmic, yet allows segments of singing and plucked cello, often punctuated by tubular bells: Greensleeves meets marimba. Cellist Carol and percussionists John Kinzie and Scott Higgins make you feel at home; this is not “new” music to them, and so it’s both fresh and familiar. Kudos to all.

ROY HARRIS. Symphony No. 7. William SCHUMAN. Symphony No. 6. New Zealand SO, Hugh Keeland, cond. Koch Int’l Classics 3-7290-2, kochentertainment.com

Slurry strings and a rumbling stomach; a Sea Interludes gone moodier with a pinch of quease; wondrous sounds and tugging movement open Harris’ Seventh. Most people only know his folk-based works or the third symphony, oft-coupled with the third of Copland (I assume record company people like threes), but Roy Harris has written in nearly every style for every combination of instruments. Some mix his name with that of Lou Harrison, who sounds nothing like him yet in a delightful irony, David Prieser’s liner notes label a “typical ‘Harris gamelan’ of piano, harp, vibraphone and chimes”; Lou Harrison’s fame being study and adaptation in is own work of traditional Indonesian gamelan. Symphony 7 actually features lots of brass fanfares and clouds of strings in quirky rhythms we’ve become used to thinking of as “Western” (as in the movies), although I think the most famous example of this soundworld originated, as far as I can tell, from western Europe via Claude Debussy in Le matin d’un jour de fête , later adapted for a “Western”-style cigarette commercial in the 1960s. Despite my own digressions, the symphony coheres and delights in a dozen ways in a mere twenty minutes. and is a must-have for devotees of any of these: Copland’s Americana works, Ornette Coleman’s Skies of America, and Shostakovich’s Seventh: the last movement of the Harris contains martial rhythms scarily reminiscent of the latter.

The later-numbered Schuman symphonies I’m familiar with are generally longer and austere; they contain little “charm”; you must work the magic yourself and I’ve always found it worth the effort. (I cherish a casette of a radio broadcast of Schuman’s Symphony 10, “American Muse,” from the 1975 American bicentennial celebration.) On this disc, his Sixth is quite amiable, though it is all over the place like a puppy. Bernstein dancing brass here, tender strings there. Koch continues to offer great American composers in previously unreleased works. One complaint, applicable to way too many discs: the ten silent seconds inserted between the two symphonies seems way too short. There is no time to readjust your mind for a very different work.

“HAYREN”: Music of KOMITAS and Togran MANSURIAN. Kim Kashkashian, viola; Robyn Schulkowsky, piano, percussion. ECM New Series

The bells that start this off are enchanting. One wonders what to expect; Komitas is a name which evokes incense and sugar, even without knowing his work very well. These prejudgments come merely from seeing, not hearing, a Komitas disc on New Albion, that label with a marvelous mix of modern and ancient, but especially where the two overlap. Kashkashian’s viola plays a lament that could claim both Indian raga and Nordic folk tunes for its heredity. I also hear some Turkish tradition, but this could be an aftereffect of a recent visit to Istanbul. This piece turned out to be Mansurian’s Havik, which is followed by eleven pieces by Komitas adapted by Mansurian,

I look now at the booklet, finding that Komitas was an Armenian born in Turkey in 1869, with quite an interesting life which included the Georgian Theological Seminary, studies in Berlin and encounters with Debussy. Following are arranged for varying combinations of viola, piano, voice and percussion. Mansurian’s voice is delightfully low and moody, like Loren Mazzacane Conner’s blues moans sung by grey felt. It is also unsteady and some may feel the that lack of skill bothersome; I just acknowledge it and enjoy it the way I do folksingers who are expressive, but without a vocal “instrument” or the ability to control it. In the booklet, Mansurian writes that hearing a description of how Brahms “howled” at the piano while composing gave him “gain the courage to sing with my poor voice.”

Mansurian’s 1998 Duet for Viola and Percussion too is moody, and moving, but at turns playful; the percussion here is mostly marimba but also bells. One day I hope hear some composed Armenian music that is joyous, despite a history saturated by genocide and church.

Steve Lake’s notes are, as always, informative and well-written. Although I’m working from an advance pressing with a photocopy booklet, ECM’s typical fine photography, sound quality (Teldec Studios, Berlin, engineered by Peter Laenger), a slipcase, and, in a too-rare packaging, several poems plus prose by the Armenian Ossip Mandelstam make this more than just a silver disc.

GILIUS VAN BERGEIJK. Via Crucis. On Death and Time. BAC. Volume Two. X-OR CD 014, 68:29, www.xs4all.nl/~xorluc

This is a strange one, all right, and a fine change from typical church music, whether “typical” for you is Bach or Messiaen. Saxophonist Luc Houtkamps’s label bring us three works for organ. I haven’t heard Volume One. Van Bergeijk’s Via Crucis is a twenty-four minute walk around the stations of the cross, the audience following the performer. Created for a museum of mechanical instruments in Utrecht, each musical station uses a different type of popular rather than church organ: barrel, fairground, and dance organs, some parts with percussion. The fifth station claims to collage Scriabin, Webern, Ruggles and Messiaen. The parts vary in sound and style

On Death and Time derives from Schubert’s song Death and the Maiden. Starting with and electronic drone-with-static which rises to ecstatic changes, it jars the listener by a rapid cut to piano and soprano in a cut-up multilayered expanse which find the piano phrases, and one low vocal note, repeated in clumpy waves. In its own bizarre way, it works somewhat like Alvin Lucier’s I Am Sitting In A Room, where the changes evolve so you no longer listen to the words as they dissolve into pure sound.

This is a must-have if you are a fan of the organ music of William Albright, whose music sounds nothing like this, but also is far from the standard organ-equals-religion fare. This might bring you to Willem Breuker’s delightful anthology of compositions for mechanical organ, The Busy Bee (BVHaast, LP + 45, now on CD)

BRAHMS. String Sextet #2. Kurt HOPSTEIN. Vergessene Gärten. Das Kölner Streichsextett. cnm/Marc Aurel cnm004, 58:40, qualiton.com

The Cologne String Sextet offers a homogenous soundworld, and a lilting momentum that takes your body into the Brahms which simultaneously allows your head to listen to the structure of this melodious sextet. I’ve enjoyed these sextets ever since I first encountered them on RCA vinyl from the Cleveland Quartet, until now the only one I owned. By comparison, the Cleve sound frequently sound more fragmented, yet often dig deeper emotional veins. In the wavering third movement, the Kölners make magic, though, as the lower strings take this slow dance without any choppiness, nor overdramatize the romantic (small r: this movement was a loveletter to Clara Schumann) intent. This performance sees the forest and the trees both, and now is my favored version.

Kurt Hopstein’s Forgotten Gardens brings to mind many sources: Beethoven textures, Mahler dances, Janacek moods and perhaps even Elfman at his best, but to Hopstein’s credit, he sounds like himself. It is pastoral; the descriptions of the movements confirm this: “overgrown paths... wild roses dance... red sun lies sleeping” and the like. He’s not afraid of blatant melodies and these work well within the sextet form. I suspect a full orchestration of Forgotten Gardens would be overbearing. There are many moments of surprising moods and directions; Holpstein describes using “broken tonality.” A unexpected, complementary pairing that grew even stronger upon repeated listens. Striking artwork.

Leo BROUWER. Guitar Works, Volume 2. Elena Papandreou. Naxos 8.554553, 73:13, naxosusa.com

Cuban composer Brouwer writes mostly for guitar, and his large output is variable. I haven’t heard the first volume, but I like Papandreou’s way with his work. The pieces sound distinct from each other. The recording is close-up and with just enough air to make the guitar ring. Papandreou is thoughtful and deliberate in telling the takes of “El Decamerón Negro,” inspired by African legends, and his most popular guitar piece. The Brouwer collection on Etcetera by the Uruguayan guitarist Jorge Oraison has fine qualities, but interestingly, I often felt as if I were listening to the great British folk guitarist Bert Jansch, which isn’t totally inappropriate as Brouwer, a composer with political influences, often uses folk roots. Philippe LeMaigre’s Brouwer disc on Ricercar does some magical things with “El Decamerón Negro,” with those same Jansch tones, and an even stronger rhythmic sense and balladic style than any competition I’ve heard, but I doubt it’s available; mine’s on digital vinyl. These discs have no other pieces in common, save the Django Reinhardt variations which don’t impress me no matter who does them.

“Tarantos” is an intriguing take on the tarantella. The 1973 “Parabola” is a wonderful piece. I’m not surprised to read it was influenced by Paul Klee. The notes quote Brouwer saying, “This parabola is not geometrical in structure, but in meaning. I am using a nexus between the original folk basic and the very transposed, transformed language of this original [piece].” It’s very effective as that, and these smaller pieces, less than eight minutes, are the Brouwer which seem to move me the most, as do the six tiny “Preludios Epigramáticos.” I wouldn’t suggest listening to this or any solo guitar disc in a single sitting; savor a few pieces at a time, and it is tasty.

Gustav HOLST. The Planets. The Mystic Trumpeter. Colin MATTHEWS, Pluto, The Renewer. Royal Scottish NO, David Lloyd-Jones; Claire Rutter, soprano. Naxos 8.555776, 75:18. naxosusa.com

The Planets always escaped me until one day saxophonist Robert Reigle played for me, in one of our blindfold tests, the Saturn movement. I picked up the Broughton on Nimbus and for the first time was moved. I also enjoy the Susskind on Vox. I’m not familiar with the myriad others. This would be a fair to passing disc, as the Planets is painted with broad strokes where taut would be preferable, but the two rare tracks make it worth the seven dollar list price. British composer Colin Matthews added another planet (let’s not debate here what type of entity Pluto is), and segued from the closing notes of Neptune, it is effective as long as one doesn’t expect it to be a total Holst clone, which would be awful in any case. The prize here is the nineteen minute treatment of Walt Whitman’s poem “The Mystic Trumpeter.” It makes perfect sense that Holst would set this; it is very chest-to-the air, very attractive to the Victorian spirit. I’d kill to hear Janet baker do this, but that’s only because Claire Rutter shares many of Dame Janet’s qualities: a soaring spirit, high notes that don’t go shrill. Wonderful stuff. If you like Elgar’s Sea Pictures, this is less lush but as rich.

Franz SCHREKER. Concert and Operatic Overtures. Slovak PO, Edgar Seipenbusch, cond. Naxos 8.555246, 51:05, naxos.com

I prejudged Schreker’s music by the usual Art Nouveau covers given to his discs; Naxos set me straight by the Romantic castle on the cover. These five erstwhile tone poems share the qualities of Wagner’s momentousness, Bax’s whimsy, and the Russian sound of grinding basses against cymbal tattoo, with bells and organ. The compositions don’t move me as much as they intrigue me, but I suspect if you like tone poems in general, and the type of Romantic sound used in Hollywood soundtracks of the ‘thirties and ‘forties, you’ll enjoy these pieces.

Orlando di LASSO. “Singphoniker di Lasso.” Die Singphoniker. CPO 999 855.2, 51:51, naxosusa.com

Die Singphoniker is a German counterpart to groups like the King’s Singers. they can do anything, and most of it well. They’ve done tributes to the Comedian Harmonizers as well as Schubert and Grieg partsongs. In this repertoire, their creamy yet distinct voices serve well in this program of secular songs in german, French and Italian. Lasso himself was a polyglot Walloon. The collection is fine, yet I must mention some of the competition, possibly out of print. In the hazily moody “La nuit froide et sombre” (“The Cold and Somber Night,”) the Hilliard Ensemble have more piquant (um, hooty) voices, yet convey more feeling. Then again, the Singphoniker eschews the pleasant but extraneous Halliard's lute accompaniment. better yet is the Telefunken/Valois mixed-choir performance of the Ensemble Polyphonique de France led by Charles Ravier. They really feel it and make you too.

I’d like to compliment cpo for including bilingual texts, but must chastise them for not placing them side by side even though each page is set with double-column text. This really spoils the opener, the quite funny “Hört zu ein Neu’s Gedicht” (“Here’s A New Poem”), with its list of nose types. The translator has also made some weak decisions. “Im Mayen’ (“In May”) becomes merely bawdy when in fact it’s literally downright and delightfully filthy with Mayday lust. Still, a very enjoyable disc, with a well chosen selection.

Charles IVES. “When the Moon: Songs and Sets for Orchestra.” Susan Narucki, sopr. Sanford Sylvan, bar. Alan Feinberg, p. Music Projects/London and London Voices, cond. Richard Bernas. Decca 289 466 841-2, 61:54, universalclassics.com

This is a brilliant idea, this is. Present Ives’ Orchestral Sets, including Set For Theater Orchestra. Since each movement is based on an Ives song, also present the sets in song. In these pages, I’ve lavished praise on Narucki’s live performances of Carter and Kurtág. She and Sylvan are no slouches here, but here everything seems ‘just so.’ Although this is effective, I’d prefer either more earthy or more “classical.” The same goes for the orchestra. Everything’s just pretty jaunty; however, the concept works, there is no competition for this collection, and it’s a happy addition to the Ives shelf.

Domenico SCARLATTI. Fourteen Sonatas. Anthony di Bonaventura, piano. Titanic Ti-194, 70:37, titanicrecords.com

This is way out of my field of expertise, but not enjoyment. Every one of these is a delight; playful and interesting. For my taste, these blow away most of the Mozart piano sonatas with their simplicity and good humor. The pianist is well known in the contemporary repertoire, and he has an obvious affinity for Scarlatti as well. I was always tempted to buy that massive Scott Ross collection on Erato, on harpsichord. but even my collecting mania kept me away from such a giant box of the unknown. Now I’ll have to dip in. My only other Scarlatti is also on piano, John Browning on Musicmasters, also known for modern repertoire, and also a delight. Browning seems slightly more intense and excited; di Bonaventura riskier, willing to play with time and ornament. I’m keeping both, and looking for more.

Geirr TVEITT. A Hundred Hargarder Tunes: Suites No. 2 and No. 5. Royal Scottish National Orchestra, Bjarte Engeest. Naxos 8.55770, 71:31, naxosusa.com

At first I was disappointed because I had wrong expectations. Familiar with and moved by the string or piano versions of the traditional tunes of the Norwegian Hardanger fiddle, which Tveitt collected, I thought these would just simple orchestrations. They are lush, Romantic, and will appeal to many who enjoy symphonic tone poems. It’s growing on me with each play, but the orchestration is mystical, sweet and clever. My Tveitt, from the tunes and from his Hardanger Violin Concerto is an earthier composer, but I hadn’t realized that Tveitt studied with Villa-Lobos, Honegger and Egon Wellesz. Definitely worth the seven dollar asking price if you have any knowledge of Tveitt’s work or enjoy folkloric tone poems. Tveitt lived from 1908-1981. The notes don’t tell when the pieces were composed, only that they survived a 1970 fire of the Tveitt homestead.

Victor YOUNG. The Quiet Man: The Complete Motion Picture Score. Dublin Screen Orchestra, Kenneth Alwyn conducting. Silva Screen SSD 1118, 46:08, silvascreen.com

A great treat, this. I’m not one for light orchestral music, and find most screen music dull on disc and irritating in the cinema. Here are charming melodies with a slight brogue woven within an episodic tone poem, every so often including a sung Irish folk tune. It stays in my collection, no blarney.

Franz HAYDN. Symphonies, Volume 26: 41, 58, 59 “Fire.” Cologne Chamber Orchestra, Helmut Müller-Brühl, conductor. Naxos 8.557092, 57:02, naxos.com

This trio of symphonies get sturdy, gruff performances by the Cologne ensemble. The strings have a catguttural roughness which is appealing, and contrast wonderfully with the harpsichord. Although the harpsichord is heard clearly, it’s a full part of the ensemble, not a tinkly debutante on parade.

These aren’t crude takes on the symphonies, just played with much more heft than Trevor Pollock gets on DG Archiv, who is elegant and thin only by contrast. Pollock conducts with more controlled fluidity and a lot more wit, Müller-Brühl has more body. To greatly exaggerate, Müller-Brühl is the soccer coach, Pollock ice skating. I enjoy each in its own way. Informative notes by Keith Anderson.

This ensemble was founded in 1923 by Hermann Abendroth, a noted conductor of his time. Müller-Brühl has been leader of this ensemble since 1964. Something I sensed while listening was confirmed by the notes, that this wasn’t a “period” performance, but like many contemporary ensembles, they’re what’s now usually called “historically aware.” The CChO, between 1976 and 1987, was indeed a period instrument crew called Capella Clementina.

IGOR STRAVINSKY. Works for Violin & Piano. Jasper Wood, violin; David Riley, piano. Endeavor Classics END 1010, 66:48, allegro-music.com

There are some works which you keep in your collection simply because you feel you should retain a reference copy, not because you like them. Messrs. Wood and Riley have changed all that for me im these works in a, at least to me, revelatory recording of Stravinsky chamber works.

There are the three major pieces, all of them suites. The opener, Divertimento, has the most subtle and wonderful dissonances, and is played with passion. I have nothing to compare it with and feel no need.

The Duo Concertante has never had an effect on me, and the 1945 recording of Joseph Szigeti with the composer (CBS Masterworks 79240, Dutch LP) is so sloppy that it connects the dots but fails to make music. The first recording for any with violinist-in-crime Samuel Dushkin, slurs beautifully and dreamily, this 1933 Paris recording clearly a part of the Modernist world, the piano often scaling art deco stairs, but later is just a bucolic frolic between the two. Stravinsky wrote that this work was his effort to integrate the strings of the violin with the many of strings of the piano with those, which, to his ears, didn’t blend well when in an orchestra of many string instruments.

I have always found Suite Italienne, adapted from the delightful Pulcinella ballet, itself adapted from music by Pergolesi, tedious. My reference copy, which I keep because of additional works by Busoni and Foss, is of a version created with Stravinsky’s input by cellist Gregory Piatagorsky and recorded by him and an undermiked Lukas Foss (RCA Victor LM-2293, LP, 1959). It finds the cellist making awkward entrances and intonations, Foss cheerfully following along but unable to save the day. The 1933 Dushkin/Stravinsky recordings of the Serenata and Sherzino are interesting as miniatures, but don’t give a sense of what the suite could be like. Any more recent (violin) versions I’ve heard haven’t convinced me, although the piece is frequently listed in recital programs. Wood and Riley have made me totally about-face in my listening seat, ears aimed dog-like toward the speakers, hands riveted my knees.

Each of the seven sections has its own striking rhythm, in sharp but appropriate contrast to the one beside it. The introduction, of course, is a stroll rhythmically reminiscent of the one that leads you to the Exhibition (a Russian connection?) yet violinist Woods offers delicious mini-trills that are like watching the tiny foot movements of a great dancer, taking Suite Italienne away from my previous impression of being like the cliché of sewing machine music. The Serenata is not serene, but an emotional plea, a serenade in earnest declaration of feeling, ending (in my mind’s eye) with both partners in an adolescently awkward courting dance; your heart feels tenderly for this music. The Tarantella here is exciting, and as much, melodically, an Irish jig as is is the Italian spinning dance; you’d have to be made of stone to remain seated listening to this. The last few bars have a dissonance making me think of some Philip Glass cluster-slurs. I needn’t go through all the sections to sum up: this not only the best Italienne I’ve heard, but one that has transformed my feeling about a piece I’ve now listened to with repeated joy since it arrived.

For dessert, there’s the exciting Chanson Russe, and three passionate transcriptions by the composer with Samuel Dushkin from The Firebird. Add to this disc attractive packaging with a cover photo of Jasper Wood, whose name is emblazoned on the cover larger than Stravinsky’s) looking like a young, unshaven Tom Hanks in a rustic James Taylor pose, (Riley’s handsome photo is inside only), although the and intelligent notes, interviews, and artist photos and bios. A no-brainer with brains and heart, coming to you from Ontario. Thanks, boys, for making me listen with new ears.

THE ORIGINAL PHILADELPHIA WOODWIND QUINTET. Boston Records BR 1062 CD, 62;19, arkivmusic.com

These recordings were taken down between 1953 and 1963 for Columbia Records, their label from 1953 to 1967. Many of the piece are familiar woodwind pieces, but not only is the sound of this ensemble smoothly beautiful, but the sequencing makes a program in which each piece strengthens the next. Stravinsky’s brief Pastorale leads into Barber’s Summer Music, which is indeed beautiful and at times wistful. I’d never paid much attention when I’d heard it on other discs. This is followed by Milhaud’s Two Sketches, op.227b from 1941. I’ve never heard the Nielsen WW Quintet before, although I know its fame and Nielsen’s striking use of winds in his orchestral and concerted pieces. It is not all pastoral, as I expected; many surprising combinations and rhythms appear through its three movements. Grainger’s Walking Tune of 1905 and Pierné’s Pastorale provide tasty interludes before the program closer, Hindemith’s Klein Kammermusik Nr. 2.

Highly recommended for the program and the charm infused in each piece, which never becomes wimpy. Intelligent notes on each piece and on the group by Steven Ledbetter. May Boston Records delve into their catalog, said here to be forty recorded pieces, for more of these riches.