Mahler’s First Symphony, often regarded as one of the most evocative and colorful symphonic debuts in history, receives a captivating interpretation in this recording by Semyon Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra. Mahler’s aspiration to make a symphony “like the world, encompassing everything” is brilliantly captured in this performance, where the orchestra delves deep into the composer’s intricate and multifaceted soundscapes. 

From the very beginning, it’s evident that Semyon Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra are on a mission to explore every nook and cranny of Mahler’s musical landscape. The First Symphony is a testament to Mahler’s ability to incorporate a wide array of influences, from animal sounds to hunting horns, rural dances, klezmer bands, and even folk melodies like Frère Jacques. Bychkov and the orchestra approach these diverse elements with great sensitivity, weaving them together into a highly subjective and immersive symphonic drama. 

The historical connection between the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra and Mahler’s music is palpable in this recording. Their association dates back to the world premiere of Mahler’s Seventh Symphony in 1908, and Bychkov acknowledges the orchestra’s unique sensibility and sound, perfectly suited to Mahler’s compositions. This sense of a shared history and musical understanding between conductor and orchestra adds depth to the performance. 

Bychkov, who has been the chief conductor of the Czech Philharmonic since 2018, demonstrates his profound admiration for Mahler’s work. He approaches the First Symphony with a sense of reverence, describing it as a precious object he hesitated to touch for fear of breaking. However, this hesitation is nowhere to be found in the recording; instead, we hear a conductor fully immersed in the music, guiding the orchestra with precision and passion. 

Recorded in 2020 at Prague’s Rudolfinum, the sonic clarity and balance achieved by Pentatone’s engineers are nothing short of miraculous. Every instrument and nuance of Mahler’s score is captured in exquisite detail, allowing listeners to fully appreciate the complexity of the music.

This recording is part of the ongoing Mahler cycle by Semyon Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic, following outstanding releases of Mahler’s Fourth, Fifth, and Second Symphonies. The orchestra’s reputation as one of the world’s finest interpreters of Mahler’s music is further solidified with this release. 

What truly sets this recording apart are the clever rubato and the rich, velvety timbres, especially noticeable in the brass section during the third movement. The trumpets, in particular, shine with their delicate vibrato, adding an extra layer of expressiveness to the performance. 

In conclusion, Semyon Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra’s rendition of Mahler’s First Symphony is a remarkable achievement. It not only pays homage to the composer’s vision but also reinforces the orchestra’s status as a leading Mahler ensemble. This recording is a must-listen for both seasoned Mahler enthusiasts and those new to his expansive and emotionally charged symphonic world. 

Alessandro Fisher’s debut album on Rubicon, “A Gardener’s World: Flowers in Song,” is a delightful and poignant exploration of nature’s beauty, expressed through a carefully curated selection of songs. Inspired by his own garden, Fisher’s recital, originally performed at Wigmore Hall in 2021, captures the essence of hope and renewal that bloomed during the lockdown. 

The opening track, Schubert’s ‘Die Blumensprache,’ sets the tone for the entire recital with Fisher’s warm-hearted embrace of the lyrics. Richard Capell’s words from nearly a century ago perfectly describe Fisher’s approach, as he skillfully suggests ardor beneath the playful surface. The collaboration with pianist Anna Tilbrook is seamless, with poised decorations and acutely judged modulations. 

Mendelssohn’s ‘Das erste Veilchen’ showcases Fisher’s innate insight into familiar lyrics, taking poignant pauses and switching keys to convey the disappearing spring and the death of the violet. Clara’s ‘Das Veilchen’ provides a happy pairing, avoiding sentimentality and showcasing Fisher’s sharp narrative and subtle coloring. 

The pièce de résistance of the recital is Sibelius’s Op 88 songs. Fisher’s interpretation is nothing short of rare insight, from the spine-tingling high notes in ‘The Thorn’ to the heartbreak in ‘The Flower’s Fate’ and the trilling of the lark in ‘Blue Anemone.’ The omission of piano markings in ‘The Wood Anemone’ becomes forgivable in the face of such compelling performance. 

The second half of the album explores lighter fare with two colorful ballads by Carlos Guastavino and songs by the Catalan Eduard Toldrà. Fisher’s storytelling remains impeccable, and his open and welcoming voice brings these pieces vividly to life. 

Exploring chansons, Fisher excels in Fauré’s infectious ‘Le papillon et la fleur,’ Chausson’s ‘Les papillons,’ and Poulenc’s gravely beautiful ‘Fleurs.’ His rendition of Poulenc’s song, part of a cycle translated as ‘Bethrothal for fun,’ resonates with calm serenity and voluptuous tone. 

The album concludes with English songs, ranging from Elgar’s teenage ditty ‘The Language of Flowers’ to Muriel Herbert’s odes to violets and daffodils. Fisher’s interpretation of Haydn Wood’s ‘Love’s Garden of Roses’ is a showstopper, paying homage to John McCormack’s pioneering recording. The encore, Swann and Flanders’ ‘Misalliance,’ is rendered gently and intimately, providing a perfect conclusion to this exceptional recital. 

Alessandro Fisher’s album is nothing short of auspicious. His masterful interpretation of a diverse selection of songs, coupled with his emotive storytelling and impeccable vocal technique, makes “A Gardener’s World: Flowers in Song” a standout and memorable recital album. Not since the legendary collaboration between Martin Isepp and Janet Baker has a British singer made such a remarkable debut on record. Fisher’s star is undoubtedly on the rise, and this album solidifies his place as a notable voice in the classical music landscape.

Herbert Schuch’s latest release, “BERLIN 1923,” revisits Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto, coupled with Erwin Schulhoff’s 1923 Piano Concerto, presenting a compelling blend of classical mastery and historical significance. A decade after his previous recording of Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto, Schuch returns with a fresh perspective and a captivating performance. 

In his earlier recording, Schuch faced criticism for lacking warmth and missing an opportunity to showcase Viktor Ullmann’s cadenza for Beethoven’s concerto. However, this time around, Schuch not only addresses this concern by including Schulhoff’s cadenza for the Beethoven concerto but also delivers a delightful and nuanced interpretation of the entire work. 

Schuch’s Beethoven is a revelation, demonstrating a sparkling narrative flair akin to a seasoned storyteller. His phrasing is vibrant and engaging, from the crystalline articulation of florid passages to the sculpting of melodies that captivate the listener. The slow movement is a highlight, with Schuch’s editorial choice to create a slow diminuendo in the ascending trill adding a ravishing touch. In the finale, moments like the stentorian bass line followed by sweetly confidential lyricism showcase Schuch’s interpretative depth. 

Conductor Tung-Chieh Chuang proves to be an excellent Beethovenian, leading the WDR Symphony Orchestra with characterful and highly sensitive playing. The first movement’s dramatic shift from G major to E flat is masterfully executed, highlighting Chuang’s skill in navigating Beethoven’s complex compositions. 

Erwin Schulhoff’s 1923 Piano Concerto, a composition by a fellow pianist and composer killed by the Nazis, is brilliantly interpreted by Schuch. Balancing Impressionist and Expressionist elements, Schuch captures the essence of Schulhoff’s work, leaning towards Scriabin-like ecstasy in certain passages. The Allegro alla jazz movement, with its lively percussion, is particularly noteworthy for Schuch’s buoyant and frothy playing, conveying the humor in the music without overemphasis. 

While other recordings may offer more vibrant colors or stunning clarity of detail, Schuch and Chuang’s poetically intelligent interpretation of Schulhoff’s concerto is equally endearing. “BERLIN 1923” stands as a testament to Schuch’s growth as an artist and his commitment to exploring the historical and artistic dimensions of these piano concertos. 

“Letter(s) to Erik Satie” offers a compelling exploration of the intertwined worlds of Erik Satie and John Cage, skillfully interpreted by the talented French pianist, Bertrand Chamayou. This dual celebratory recording reveals a nuanced perspective on the iconic figures of experimentalism, showcasing the depth of Chamayou’s connection to their unique musical realms. 

Chamayou’s journey into Satie’s repertoire began with an initial fascination with the composer’s trademark haunting softness. However, it was Cage’s later artistic identification with Satie that truly ignited the pianist’s interest, leading to this thoughtful compilation of solo works. The inclusion of Satie’s well-known pieces, such as the Trois Gymnopédies and Gnossiennes 1-7, is complemented by the deliberate scattering of these classics among lesser-known Satie miniatures. The entire collection is framed by Cage’s compositions, often created as a direct homage to Satie, creating a symbiotic relationship between the two composers. 

The opening track, “All Sides of the Small Stone, for Erik Satie and (Secretly Given to Jim Tenney as a Koan),” attributed to Cage, serves as a compelling starting point. Its discovery inside a score by James Tenney, a Cage mentoree, adds a layer of intrigue to the recording. Tenney’s own composition, “3 Pages in the Shape of a Pear (in celebration of Erik Satie),” makes a fleeting yet significant appearance, bridging the connection between the two composers. 

The meticulous selection and arrangement of pieces showcase Chamayou’s sensitivity as a pianist, allowing the listener to experience Satie and Cage through his distinctive, brilliant lens. Satie’s piano cycle, “Sports et Divertissements,” is masterfully performed, with elegant nuance and occasional dramatic splashes. The natural resonance in the recording enhances the familiarity of Satie’s works, while the Cage pieces, particularly “A Room,” “Swinging,” and “In a Landscape,” are imbued with an otherworldly intensity through a reverberating halo. 

In “Letter(s) to Erik Satie,” Bertrand Chamayou achieves a delicate balance, presenting both the well-known and the obscure with equal devotion. His exploration of the interplay between Satie and Cage provides a fresh perspective on their legacies, making this recording a captivating journey for listeners interested in the evolving landscape of experimental music.

Christian Măcelaru and the WDR Sinfonieorchester, in their latest album featuring Brahms’ Piano Concertos with pianist Simon Trpčeski, take a distinctive turn from their previous endeavors. However, this rendition invites comparisons with notable performances by other maestros, creating an interesting discourse on interpretation and execution.

The journey begins with the D minor concerto, and while the orchestral layering is evident, Măcelaru’s approach feels light-handed, lacking the requisite Maestoso character. The timpani, crucial for establishing mood, disappointingly takes a backseat, only making a significant impact in the finale’s closing bars. Trpčeski’s entrance doesn’t elevate the performance, and over-pedaling leads to an atmospheric, rather than heady, ambiance. The frustration peaks in moments like 10’39”, where the octaves lack the necessary momentum. The Adagio’s pacing is reasonable, yet the spirit falls short, missing the profundity and expansiveness demanded by Brahms’ transcendent melodies. Trpčeski maintains a gentle approach, offering introspection but still falling short of more emotionally charged renditions.

The Finale emerges as the strongest segment, with Trpčeski’s clarity and space in staccato notes delivering pristine passagework. However, the delayed gratification of the needed drive in the jubilant D major section raises questions about the conductor’s intent.

The B-flat major concerto shows promise, marked by a well-enunciated French horn solo and increased vigor. The noble orchestral interlude and Trpčeski’s empathic chords demonstrate the energy lacking in the D minor concerto. However, inconsistencies persist, with the second movement reverting to old habits, demanding more insistence from the soloist. The cello solo in the slow movement shines, exhibiting beautiful vibrato and expressive shifts in color. Trpčeski’s responsiveness to tonal movement is effective, though some additional playfulness could enhance the listening experience in certain moments.

In summary, the album leaves a mixed impression. While the B-flat major concerto showcases the performers’ capabilities, the inconsistencies and shortcomings in the D minor concerto prevent it from standing out among preferred listening points. This release, though competent, may not alter existing recommendations for top choices in Brahms’ Piano Concertos.

In their latest release on Harmonia Mundi, cellist Bruno Philippe and pianist Tanguy de Williencourt, accompanied by the HR Sinfonieorchester under the baton of Christoph Eschenbach, present a diverse program featuring works by Fauré, Franck, Poulenc, and Saint-Saëns. While the recording showcases Philippe’s undeniable technical prowess and sensitivity, certain interpretative choices and ensemble issues detract from an otherwise enjoyable listening experience.

The album opens with Fauré’s Romance Op. 69, where Philippe’s warm and expressive tone immediately captures the listener’s attention. His interpretation of Poulenc’s Cello Sonata is a highlight, demonstrating a nuanced understanding of the surrealist elements within the work. The collaboration between Philippe and de Williencourt is particularly noteworthy in navigating the shifts between lyrical suavity and demotic perkiness in this composition.

However, the recording has its share of less-than-ideal moments, notably in Fauré’s Papillon, where scratchiness pervades, though it is acknowledged that this may be an inherent challenge in the composition itself. The Franck Violin Sonata, transcribed for cello and piano by Jules Delsart, raises concerns about interpretative choices, specifically the use of rubato in the piano’s introductory bars. This departure from established tempo conventions seems unnecessary and detracts from the harmonic interest intended by the composer. Furthermore, the marked poco animato in the final moments of the Franck Sonata is criticized as excessive, diminishing the movement’s intended grandeur.

The Saint-Saëns Cello Concerto No. 1 is marred by issues of tempo consistency, particularly in the interpretation of the second theme, which should maintain the established tempo. Additionally, balance problems arise, with the first violins’ high triplets often being drowned out by the woodwind section.

Despite these shortcomings, there is no denying Philippe’s technical proficiency and the moments of brilliance scattered throughout the recording. The Poulenc Cello Sonata stands out as a particularly successful interpretation, showcasing the duo’s ability to navigate the intricate interplay between the cello and piano.

In conclusion, this album offers a mixed bag of French delights. While certain interpretative choices and ensemble issues may leave listeners wanting, Bruno Philippe’s undeniable talent and moments of interpretative brilliance make this recording a worthwhile addition to any classical music collection.