Here's a link to the prior thread, which itself has a link.





I find Einojuhani Rautavaara a reliable composer. I’ve picked up a number of recordings of his music over the past five or six years, and with the exception of his dull opera Rasputin, I’ve always like what I heard. So I picked up the Naxos disc of his second and third piano concertos and the small orchestral work Isle of Bliss with relatively high expectations. I was satifisfied.

The disc opens with Isle of Bliss, which is based on a poem by the Finnish poet Aleksis Kivi. (The inspiration for one of Rautavaara’s finest works, the opera Aleksis Kivi.) The compact tone poem opens vigorously and joyously, and quickly segues into a lush, dreamy, and appropriately slower sound world, with the winds carefully and delicately evoking bird calls, something so dear to this composer and critical in this work, what being based on the poem Home of the Birds. As the work continues to unfold, the work seems to take on a calm, and, well, blissful feel. It’s a fine work, and almost strikes me as something a cooler Richard Strauss may have written had he been informed by 1990s ideas.

The next work is the third piano concerto, Gift of Dreams, originally dedicated to Vladimir Ashkenazy, who has recorded it. Here the pianist is Laura Mikkola. Anyhoo, the opening Tranquillo, as the title suggests, opens calmly, with lovely, soothing string playing of a New Age-cum-Romanticism sort – but in a good way. The piano enters gently, with sparse notes, but then it picks up until a long run ushers in the winds then brass. I detected the rather obvious influence of Bartok’s Third Piano Concerto (a very good thing!) and even hints of Rachmaninov. (It was written for Ashkenazy, so that only makes sense.) The piano writing becomes dazzling, though never over the top. The Adagio assai is slow, calm, and a bit cool at the open, with the pianist this time coming right to the forefront. In such an environment excess would not do, so excess there is not. As the movement progresses the music becomes more vigorous, with especially tasty swirls in the high strings and drive in the lower strings, with rumbling timpani helping to ratchet up the intensity in the middle. Then it calms down a bit, revealing a conservative overall structure. The concluding Energico is more, um, energetic, with both the soloist and band getting to let loose a bit. With drum thwacks aplenty, and pulsing string playing, and virtuosic piano writing and playing, the work ends with a standard concerto finale, though one that fades away nicely at the end. All the while the work possesses that unique Rautavaara sound, with lush sounds informed by prickly compositional devices, all merged into a most satisfying package. Having heard all three of Rautavaara’s piano concertos, I must say that I like this one the most.

The disc closes with the fine second piano concerto. The opening In Viaggio starts of sparse, with a bass emphasized orchestra underpinning shimmering piano figurations that continue while the whole orchestra begins to play. The first solo part for the pianist isn’t much more than a continuation of the opening material, though as the orchestra reenters and the whole work develops, the piano part also develops. The orchestral writing itself becomes more potent, with prominent percussion and swelling strings. A nice, beefy opener. The Sognando e libero opens with comparatively gentle, ruminative piano playing and orchestral playing to match, though the strings sting a bit, hints of unease in the air. Then everything speeds up, building to a powerful climax before subsiding. The concluding Uccelli sulle passion finds Ms Mikkola playing knotty, almost neo-Schoenbergian piano music solo, and then when the orchestra plays, it’s in a gliding, undulating fashion, with the strings notable again for their beauty and bite. The piano plays in a similar fashion throughout, in what sounds to be challenging writing. It’s hard to tell if the soloist is now the accompanist at times, but both band and soloist take to the fore from time to time. Rautavaara’s distinctive wind writing (usually ascending solo bursts) pop up here and there, and the whole thing fades away to nothingness. This is a very knotty piece, but it’s also very approachable.

Indeed, that may be the key to the success of this disc and of Rautavaara generally. His music is both modern and respects (and borrows from) tradition. He’s not afraid to write something dense, gnarly, and rigorous. But he’s also not afraid to write beautiful music. And he has the ability to make even serial music conventionally beautiful. These three works all reinforce his talents. That’s why I find him to be one of the greatest of composers active in the last two or three decades.

As to the performers, Ms Mikkola does a superb job, and Eri Klas and his Dutch band far more than ably support her. Superb sound rounds out a superb disc.


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I had immense success when I picked up the Naxos Nancarrow “sampler” and the complete works for player piano on Wergo, so I figured I might as well go for the new-ish disc of his string quartets (and other works) played by the Arditti Quartet on Wergo. While this is a fine disc it’s not quite as good as the other recordings I mentioned. The reason is plain enough; the bottom line is that Nancarrow was simply better at writing for the player piano and other small ensembles than he was at writing for the more conventional string quartet medium.

Don’t get me wrong: there’s plenty to enjoy. The music is gnarly and modern in a nice heavy duty way, but it also maintains Nancarrow’s generally lighter, sunnier overall feel. Competition for late LvB these works are not. Meticulous attention is paid to each instrument, and the musical arguments are dense. Some fun music pops up here and there – as one would expect from Nancarrow – but I guess I wanted more. The fillers, including arrangements of some of the player piano studies made by Nancarrow and others, fall into the same category. There’s a really nice, brief Toccata for violin and player piano which seems to jump to life a bit more, and the closing Trilogy for Player Piano shows where Nancarrow is most at home.

The Arditti play superbly, as one would expect, and sound is superb too. I definitely rate this disc a success and think that Nancarrow fans will like it. It just doesn’t match up to his (formidable) best works. That’s a tall order, though.



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sounds great,I had a Rautavaara recording years ago. And Salonen has conducted a couple pieces years ago. One was at the Ojai Festival when he had all his Finnish buddies on stage.

Exciting weekend.

So far in all my listening I’ve heard very little Michael Tippett – only the symphonies. I wasn’t uniformly impressed, particularly with the one with faux voices or breathing or whatever in it. (It’s been years since I listened to it.) But I figured I might as well try something else, and this disc of two of the piano sonatas and the Piano Concerto was quite handy. I enjoy John Ogdon’s pianism for the most part, so I figured he’d make the most of the works here.

The disc opens with the first Piano Sonata, and it’s quite good in a generic, modernist sort of way. It’s complex and dense, with nice contrasts in rhythm and dynamics, along with some bite, yet it retains enough traditional melodic and harmonic elements (and four movement structure), or something approximating them, to be quite accessible. It’s not of Prokofiev quality, say, but it’s a nice listen. The next work is the second Piano Sonata, which is a more complex yet, more avant garde, with harsh dissonance and ragged rhythm. A less comfortable listen, and a bit less persuasive, too. If I go this route, I’m thinking Schoenberg is more to my taste.

The disc ends with the Piano Concerto, which is the best work on the disc. Again, it’s definitely “modern,” but it’s also approachable. The overall feeling is on the upbeat side, and there’s energy aplenty. Orchestration is handled deftly, with some nifty wind writing; some rather, well, British sounding brass parts (hard to describe, but I don’t think anyone would say some of the fanfares sound French); and string writing that is both attractive and piquant. In the opening movement one can hear the influence of Bartok in places, as well as some other composers, though the Hungarian’s influence is most audible. I’ll definitely give this work a spin in the future, but I must say that it’s not quite up to the Bartok and Prokofiev level.

The 60s era sound quality is very good, and Ogdon plays with notable command of the music. Colin Davis and the Philharmonia more than ably accompany in the concerto. So, a good disc, maybe a very good one, but really one for intrepid repertoire explorers.


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Up until I bought this disc, I believe the only work by Jean Françaix I had heard was his Piano Concerto. A fine work to be sure, but surely there is more to the composer. There is! I’m not sure why this disc caught my attention – perhaps the bright colors on the cover, perhaps the unusual instrumental combinations (winds aplenty, strings, and piano) – but I’m sure glad it did because it’s one heck of a charmer.

Profound levity, that’s the best way I can describe the sound of the music on this disc. The four works – two long-ish, two short – all display the same traits: an irresistibly light, upbeat mood (for the most part); snazzy rhythms; beauty; grace; clarity; meticulousness; informal formality; and undeniable Frenchness. (No German or Briton could ever write this music!) Even the slow movements more or less convey the same things, just at a more leisurely pace. They are immediately and completely accessible works, yet they also scream out 20th Century. These could never have been written in the 19th Century, yet strident, hard, jagged music is nowhere to be found.

While all the works sound different, and all have different instrumental combinations, they all occupy the same overall sound world. There’s no sense of the composer rehashing the same ideas, though, not by any means. Some may find the music and ideas too trite, and this certainly isn’t chamber music of Beethoven/Bartok/Shostakovich/<add your favorite heavyweight here> caliber, but surely one can enjoy perfectly crafted musical bon-bons every once in a while.

The Gaudier Ensemble plays splendidly and Hyperion’s sound is top-notch.

A delicious disc.


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Here’s a composer entirely new to me. Until I saw the Naxos disc of his complete solo piano music, I’d never even seen the name Dimitris Dragatakis. My curiosity was piqued, though I’m not sure why. So I have listened to the disc, and I must declare this a most exhilarating find!

The disc opens with a trilogy of shorter works from 1949 and before – meaning they’re “early” works. (The composer lived from 1914 to 2001.) They are all pleasant enough works. Nostalgia is a Greek-flavored, Iberia-esque piece, though not as complex as the Spanish masterpiece. Butterfly is a light creation featuring tasty irregular rhythms Little Ballade offers the first hints of what’s to come with a vigorous, intense, fiery, occasionally knotty and occasionally romantic sound. One can detect faint whiffs of Bartok.

The early works then give way to the meat of the disc. Dragatakis is revealed to be a thoroughly modern composer with a pronounced avant-garde streak, though he seems to be a few years behind the times with each work. The two Piano Sonatinas exemplify this. Written in the 60s, they are both angular, dissonant, driven pieces, and seem to hint at Prokofiev and perhaps Schoenberg. Then comes Antiques, a collection of eight miniatures from 1972 that are often austere, occasionally violent, and display hints of both Minimalism and Ligeti. The Anadromés are more austere yet, but somehow manage to maintain a rhythmic brio. The two Etudes carry on in a similar style. Inelia, from 1997, is a most fascinating piece. Dragatakis maintains a thoroughly modern style yet injects more accessible harmonic and melodic components in places. It’s a most remarkable piece. The disc closes with the 11-minute long Monologue No. 4, from 2001, which wasn’t premiered until after his death. It’s mostly a no-compromise type piece, knotty and occasionally unapproachable, but one hears wistfulness, and perhaps even bitterness and regret in a few spots.

Lorenda Ramou plays all of the works, and she is fully up to the challenge. She worked with the composer and premiered some of his pieces, and accordingly she seems to have the music down cold. She plays with impressive command and feeling, something not always expected in such modern works. Throw in fully modern sound, and this is one heck of a disc. If you like modern piano music – think Schoenberg, Ligeti, or Nono – then this may be one to consider.


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Dear Todd,

As regards Tippett, my introduction was the Concerto for Double String Orchestra. I would have thought it was his most popular piece. It is certainly very accessible and wonderfully lyrical. Sadly the best recording I have heard is the composer's own with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra. For reasons passing understanding EMI have deleted this, but it can be found on the Amazon marketplace and I thoroughly recommend it.

regards, Tam

I’m not sure why I decided to try this disc. It’s filled with pretty much nothing but miniatures – and transcribed miniatures at that. Sure, the transcribers in question have names like Heifetz and Perlman for most of the works, but they’re transcriptions. But why not?

Anyway, the disc opens with an original work by called Four Rags by John Novacek, Ms Josefowicz’s accompanist. It’s a pretty good throwback to the early 20th Century ragtime music the rest of the disc is devoted to. After that, things move back in time to works by Charlie Chaplin (!), Scott Joplin, George Gershwin, Stephen Foster, and Manuel Ponce (?). Most are mildly entertaining but fade from memory once the music stops. Even Heifetz’s arrangement of Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair, interesting though it is to hear, isn’t exactly gripping.

There are a couple interesting works. Henri Vieuxtemps’ work Souvenir d’Amérique, a set of variations on Yankee Doodle, is great fun. The main melody is given the hyper-virtuoisic treatment and it works. The Porgy and Bess suite also works well as arranged. But these two works total about 20 minutes of a 60+ minute disc. That’s not enough.

Leila Josefowicz plays quite nicely, with a pleasant but not gorgeous tone, and a slightly small sound, at least as recorded here. Novacek plays his part superbly. Sound is major-label top-flight. Even so, this is lightweight disc that doesn’t seem to be something to listen to very often.



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I’ve sampled a variety of lieder by a number of composers over the years, but until this disc I never got around to listening to the songs of Hugo Wolf. So when I stumbled on this old disc of an even older recital by that estimable duo of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and Gerald Moore I figured it was time. The disc contains a recital from 1961 and has 20 of Wolf’s Mörike lieder, all penned in 1888. On the evidence of this recital, I really need to investigate more of Wolf’s music.

As I expected, Fischer-Dieskau and Moore work perfectly together, with Moore generally supplying the steady base from which Fischer-Dieskau can launch into interpretive flights of fancy. Many of the songs have a dark or somewhat dark mien, and they sound unusually rich. The texts are all quite good, and some more than that. And sometimes it’s the smaller works that hit hardest. For instance, Bei einer Trauung is extremely brief, yet it’s unsettling piano part and condensed verse describing an unhappy wedding packs a wallop. There are a number of other similar moments through the disc, and Fischer-Dieskau digs in. His mannerisms do show through here and there, and he is histrionic in the last two works in the recital (Zur Warnung and Abschied), so those who do not like him probably wouldn’t like this disc. Me, I do, and need to hear more.

Sound is definitely not modern: it sounds like a live recital recording from its time and the volume and scale of both singer and pianist varies a bit more than one would ideally prefer.



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