Romantic Piano Concertos Series Hyperion

[kyjo]

After so much generic music, it's nice to turn to the really distinctive concerto by Alnaes, which I've known since checking this CD out of my college campus library 15 years ago. It's quite an eccentric concerto. The melodies have unusual shapes - Nordic, we could say? - and the first movement has a triumphant ebullience that is usually reserved for finales. There is a cyclical element in that a particularly memorable (if somewhat sentimental) tune from the first movement returns in the slow movement, and there is certainly an element of early Hollywood to some passages. (Alnaes died before Hollywood scores took off; the booklet does not say when the piano concerto was written, except that it was after 1900.)

This piece is so distinctive and so much tremendous fun that even the less successful bits are forgiveable. And I haven't even mentioned the delightful waltz finale. In a weird way, I feel like Alnaes concerto fans and George Lloyd symphony fans should be a mostly overlapping circle. The big tunes, splashy orchestration, overall optimistic worldview, and vague feeling that maybe this should be a guilty pleasure, like eating a rich dessert instead of your vegetables...

To the bolded text - that's an entirely fair assumption, at least in my case! Glad you enjoyed the Alnaes concerto, which, as I've mentioned before, is one of my most treasured PCs in the whole repertoire. I love how the life-affirming, ebullient nature of the outer movements is perfectly balanced by the somber, even tragic tone of the slow movement. Not to mention the plethora of memorable tunes that the work contains, especially in the waltz-like finale. Don't hesitate to check out Alnaes' two symphonies which are just as tuneful and enjoyable. They've both been recorded on Sterling Records, and the 1st exists in a marginally preferable recording on LAWO Classics (coupled with the PC).

[Brian]

Oops! It had to happen sometime! I listened to these, wrote a review post here, saved the draft to my drafts folder, and then forgot about it and the draft auto-deleted. So my notes are gone. But I think these were memorable enough I can describe them again without listening a second time.

The Bowen concertos are exactly why this series exists. They were vivid, colorful, and in the case of the 18-minute one-movement No. 3 "Fantasia," very energetic and full of tunes. No. 4 is more "legendary," in the sense that it has the mysterious medieval vibe of some Bax tone poems or impressionist Vaughan Williams. It's mostly slower and quieter, thus not a piece likely to be in concert halls often/ever, so it's great to have this disc. Danny Driver does exceptional work.

The Jadassohn pieces are both short and the First especially is like a konzertstuck - very very short fast intro, slow movement, "Ballade" finale. Darn it, I know I wrote something interesting about the "Ballade" and about the Second Concerto, but I don't remember them at all. Ugh! I do remember the Draeseke concerto was very post-Brahmsish and satisfyingly hefty. Guess this wasn't as memorable but I do have a positive feeling about it.



Julius Benedict was a German who studied with Hummel, settled in London, and frequently performed his own concertos. (The E flat was expanded from a concertino, and you can kind of tell because it has a 17-minute first movement.) His first concerto, in C minor, has Hummel's easy lyricism and gentle demeanor (the minor key is not very threatening), and there are some nice touches, like the surprising early entry of the piano and the piano-cello duet that forms the second theme. The second concerto, the one expanded, did not really need expansion. That huge first movement is rather sleepy except for the big central cadenza. And, honestly, so is the rest.

Walter Macfarren was a Brit inspired by Mendelssohn, and his brief Concertstuck is at its most interesting at the beginning, when the E minor key gives it unusual flavor.

Hyperion's PR material for this disc says that it's proof that the UK was not as barren a musical wasteland as its reputation suggests in the pre-Elgar era. I'm not so sure.



Both of Wilhelm Stenhammar's concertos are big (45 and 30 minutes), bold (in B flat minor and D minor), and symphonic (in four movements). The First starts with a simple two-chord interval motto, and then the piano soloist takes off. The first movement is mostly moderate in tempo and temperature, but has some cool moments. There's a quick scherzo and then a slow nocturne that has some really magical muted-violin romantic moments at the end. The finale seems a little too stuck in the shadow of Brahms' First Concerto, except for a moonlit Nordic andante in the center and a surprising quiet ending. Ultimately the piece feels overlong and overbaked, and I think you could salvage a great 30-minute concerto from it with some editing. Not bad for an Op. 1, however!

No. 2 has a strange structure; it starts quietly with the piano soloist, and then the orchestra tries to change the key. Throughout what the booklet calls an "improvisatory" structure, the piano and orchestra fight over what key the piece should be in, with the pianist of course winning in the end and opting for a victorious D Major finale with a tremendous Big Tune. There are all sorts of twists and turns. It's a truly bizarre piece, but I say that as a compliment: it's unpredictable, ear-catching, and super entertaining. I might try the rival Naxos recording.



Well, of course, we all know at least one of these. Stephen Hough's complete cycle is excellent, and it's also super-complete: the Second is recorded with the original uncut slow movement, then supplemented with the heavily cut version that was recorded 50+ years ago, and also a version edited by Hough himself to, he thinks, improve the balance between the three soloists in this movement. He gives a justification in the booklet but my ears are too familiar with the original (No. 2 is my favorite of the concertos) to give it a fair hearing.

Tempos are fast across the board, and this approach comes off much better than in Hough's Saint-Saens cycle. There are a couple of solo song transcriptions for encores, too. I suspect that everyone already has their own cycles of this music and there's not much purpose to a detailed review here. I like this one.

EDIT: Looks like I am on pace to finish this listening project around mid-March

[Wanderer]

*8 months later*

Motivation speech needed! 

[Brian]

*8 months later*

Motivation speech needed! 

   
I said March...I didn't say which year... 

[Brian]

Wilhelm Taubert and Jacob Rosenhain share some parallels: Taubert born in 1811, Rosenhain in 1813, both living until the 1890s, both falling into the social circle of Schumann. Schumann praised Taubert's first piano concerto as one of the best, though he noted that Taubert stole the structure from Mendelssohn's First Concerto. Schumann invited Rosenhain to write reviews for his magazine, but after Rosenhain moved to Paris, Schumann thought that Parisian style was worsening the quality of his compositions.

Taubert's Concerto No. 1 is in the unusual key of E Major and radiates the serenity common to that key. It is indeed modeled on Mendelssohn's example, but with notably less drama. It feels more like a short concerto by Ries. It's pleasant, but not at all memorable, and the slow movement contains a lot of oboe. (The three movements run continuously, and it isn't easy to tell where one ends and the next begins.)

No. 2 dates from 40 years later, but the biggest change is the most old-fashioned: the addition of a slow introduction. Other than that and the key of A, it's basically the same; it's for a relatively small classical orchestra, with most of the work this time given to the strings.

Rosenhain's concerto is similar in structure but longer and in D minor. I actually found it more memorable and agreeable - a decent imitation of Mendelssohn or Schumann. I like the slow movement's cello melody especially. The best thing on the disc, but that is faint praise.

This one's good if you want to take a nap.



Hermann Goetz is the ideal CPO composer, a German romantic with a decent penchant for melody who died of tuberculosis at age 35 and was instantly forgotten. His piano concerto is a 41-minute monster, but it is a happy piece, written during the best time in his life, when he was recovering from illness, making business connections with Raff and Brahms, and newly married. As always with Goetz, the tunefulness and optimism help forgive other deficiencies. It's really a rather nice listen, and as the booklet points out, the orchestration is thoughtfully done, favoring solo winds and dialogue with the piano. A surprise is the quiet ending of the first movement, leading directly into the slow movement.

One funny line from the booklet: Goetz warned a possible performer that you need the technique of Chopin's Etudes Opp. 10 and 25 in order to play the concerto. That's optimistic self-importance. 

Jozef Wieniawski is the second-most-famous and second-best composer named Wieniawski. He lived much longer than his older brother Henryk, and he had a style that foregrounded the virtuoso soloist even more than Henryk's. The orchestra does a lot of sitting back and relaxing in this concerto, which alternates some G minor sturm und drang (especially in the big cadenza) with music of a similar gentleness and friendliness to Goetz'. The finale is kind of a pale imitation of the finale of Brahms' First.

Somewhat better than the previous CD, but still basically pleasant background music.



My first listen to Reger's concerto. I thought it was one of those hourlong monsters like Busoni's, but it's shorter than the Goetz.  It just feels like it's an hour long...OK, I kid...well, sort of. It's clearly indebted to Brahms' First and full of sturm und drang. The melodic ideas are memorable through their weirdness, rather than catchiness or ear-pleasing qualities. Hamelin storms through the first movement like a man possessed.

The slow movement is my favorite. Again there are echoes of Brahms, but the spareness of the piano part at times also has a certain stillness that foreshadows Mompou. It's really beautiful stuff. Hamelin's nimble, dance-ish articulation really elevates the finale. The ending is pretty impressive. Overall, this work blends in to some of the other obscurities in this series, and while I would rate it higher than almost all of them, I don't know that I'd necessarily have known it was from a big name or was a cult piece. The dazzlingly hard-sounding piano part is most memorable, though, and calls for a Hamelin-type figure.

Strauss' Burleske is one of the most famous pieces in the series, though it is somewhat out of fashion now for its unprogrammable length and gangly goofiness. Hamelin & Co. barrel through it like party animals. Hamelin's piano is also very forward in the balance and sounds gigantic. I would prefer the old Janis RCA recording in a louder environment because the greater dynamic range on this one means the timpani are harder to hear in the opening bars. But I can't think of another recording that's preferable. This is one of the best recordings of Burleske I've ever heard.



Frederick Cowen was a Victorian-era composer who wrote his Concertstück (note the bizarre spelling) for Paderewski when that pianist toured England. It's clearly modeled on Liszt: one movement in continuously flowing sections, alternating major and minor keys, with lots of showoffy playing. It's actually quite a lot of fun, and it's short enough that, with the constantly shifting moods, even if you find a part boring, it will be over soon. I'd recommend it to fans of the Liszt concertos and the French romantic concerto repertoire as well (Saint-Saens, Franck, d'Indy, etc.).

Arthur Somervell scored his biggest career success with his Normandy Variations, based on a very short 8-bar melody, which he breaks up into parts and then varies bit by bit. It was popular at first because it was premiered and toured by Donald Tovey as pianist. As late as 1943, English orchestras still included it in their regular repertoire. I'm not sure why it faded after that: you'd think that 1944-45 would have been a banner year for Normandy Variations performances. There is a somewhat defiant, heroic mood to the main melody, which is repeated several times in the first three minutes to establish it in your memory before a short piano cadenza and then the 17 minutes of variations. It's reasonably entertaining, and the main tune holds the piece together well, but I do understand why it eventually faded into obscurity. Still, this is one of the "I'm glad this series exists, to record these works" volumes, not one of the "We didn't need to hear these works again" volumes of the series.

Somervell's Highland Concerto is a descendant of Mackenzie's Scottish Concerto, though Somervell claims to have written all original melodies instead of borrowing known folk tunes. But it sounds entirely Scottish, even more so than Mackenzie, from the ultra-folksy opening melody onward. It's a little bit campy, a little bit cheesy, and entirely delightful and successful. Thumbs up.

This is, by the way, an all Martin/Martyn production. Even the BBC Scottish Symphony replaced its whole string section with nothing but Martins/Martyns to preserve the theme.



I own this one! Widor is of course better known for his organ works, but his piano concertos are just as fabulous. Piano Concerto No. 1 starts with a rather thoughtful first movement that doesn't quite live up to its "con fuoco" marking. This, however, yields to a slow movement that is genuinely magical, with hair-standing-on-end type serene beauty in the last 3 minutes especially. I've heard this disc a few times but still felt a little bit of astonishment at the greatness of these few minutes. The finale's main tune is so catchy, but so frivolous, that it might actually work against the concerto. The movement is overall a Saint-Saens-like scherzo-romp with varied and fun episodes, but that tune is just so silly. It sounds like a drinking song for dwarves.

The Fantaisie is a one-movement treasure chest that puts Tchaikovsky, Saint-Saens, and Franck together. The structure is impossible to decipher, but the episodes are all fun, the tunes frequently memorable. (Try resisting the moment that begins at 18:40. The piano's re-entry is so, so fun.)

Piano Concerto No. 2 is a tight 20 minutes, in a dramatic C minor. The arc to major key moves quickly and efficiently. It's less lush and romantic than the earlier pieces, more modern.

One of the series' great treasures.



Here is what I wrote about Kalkbrenner on the previous page:

Friedrich Kalkbrenner was the most popular pianist in Paris when Chopin arrived - and promptly stole his spotlight. He reportedly told Chopin, "After my death or when I stop playing, there will be no representative of the great pianoforte school," an amazing example of a brag that is also an insult. Chopin nevertheless dedicated one of his concertos to Kalkbrenner, one of many examples of the pompous fellow's brushes with true greatness (as a youngster he spent time with Haydn, Beethoven, Hummel, and Clementi).

The concertos illustrate quickly how Chopin was able to brush the once-great man aside. Kalkbrenner's music has more Germanic seriousness than Herz, suiting his pomposity, but once the stormy minor-key beginning is over, it's all piano fireworks and precise virtuosity all the rest of the way. Hurwitz finds it engaging and fun (a 9/9 score), but I find all the constant up-and-down pianism a little tedious and tiresome.

No. 2 clears the low bar of the previous CD because it's in E minor, an inherently dramatic and interesting key. Listen out in the first movement at 12:54-58 for a truly eye-popping example of what sounds, to my ear, like bitonality?? In 1826?? Anyone with a streaming account want to tell me what's happening there?? The booklet offers no comment. And, by the way, after the first movement the minor-key drama never returns. For its era, this is sub-Ries but not totally dull.

No. 3, in A minor, is much shorter, since the slow movement is a mere short introduction to the following rondo. It's more of the same, though there's a tiny hint of Italian orchestration in the first movement (the use of piccolo). The disc ends with an Adagio ed Allegro di bravura, which is pure fluff with some hunting horns for color.



The Swedish composer Adolf Wiklund wrote his three pieces for piano and orchestra between 1902 (age 23) and 1917 (age 38) and lived for another 33 years after that without achieving the same kind of success. But it really was success in his era: the two concertos remained in the Swedish repertoire until the 1970s, and Wilhelm Backhaus performed the shorter Second. Wiklund was a friend and informal student of Stenhammar (who was only 8 years older) and, as an adult, an actual student of Busoni.

Concerto No. 1 is a sweeping E minor epic that begins with the piano virtuosically laying out a Big Dramatic Tune with a decided Nordic feel to it. The concerto is high romantic stuff with good melodies and the influences of Stenhammar and Brahms. It's eccentric at times (muted trumpets in the slow movement), but basically delivers exactly what I want from the series: drama, beauty, and a whole lot of piano playing. There's also a quite grandiose final peroration that flips to the major key, and the piece ends with a big drum roll and final flourish. Lots of fun.

Between the two concertos on the disc is the early (age 23) Konsertstycke, Op. 1. This was written for young Wiklund to introduce himself as pianist to Stockholm audiences, in a premiere conducted by Tor Aulin. It's considerably gentler and more pastoral in mood, written in C with a moderate orchestral introduction, then a piano cadenza. Most of it is fairly routine, at a moderate tempo and with pedestrian themes, though the last few minutes accelerate gently into a toccata-like conclusion.

Concerto No. 2 is compact - three movements of 8 minutes each - and has a more assertive Nordic style that is much closer to the brawny energy and melodic eccentricity of Stenhammar and Nielsen. It's not as memorable as the idea of a Nielsen piano concerto sounds, but it is punchy and fun.

The booklet says that Wiklund revised his two concertos later in life, but did such a poor job, with many "obvious mistakes," and with inconsistent revisions to different orchestral parts, that the performers on this disc mostly ignore the revisions! The only one they really accept is a cut in No. 1.



This is yet another of the entries devoted to life before the innovators: Paris before Chopin arrived and Germany before Liszt arrived. I have a disc of Pixis piano trios on Hyperion which I enjoy quite a lot, and Thalberg is famous (relatively speaking) for his Lisztian solo opera fantasies for piano.

The Pixis concerto and concertino date from the mid-1820s, and sound like early Schubert or perhaps Hummel. I like the concerto's slow movement, which leads directly into the finale a la Beethoven. Thalberg's piece dates from 1830, making it a very early work in his career. I think I hear trombone early on, but once the piano enters, it largely accompanies itself with a busy, virtuosic part. You can tell he was a tremendous pianist.

Generally speaking, these Howard Shelley in Tasmania volumes are my least favorites in the series, because they all come from the era of Beethoven but from composers who were writing at the dead end of the previous style, with lots of empty virtuosity and "crowd-pleasing" effects for the fashions of the time. But this is definitely one of the better-crafted volumes in that era, and Pixis and Thalberg are certainly a level about Kalkbrenner or Herz. Pleasant entertainments.

[Florestan]

Concertstück (note the bizarre spelling)

Strauss' Burleske is one of the most famous pieces in the series, though it is somewhat out of fashion now for its unprogrammable length and gangly goofiness.

Hans von Bülow called it "a complicated piece of nonsense" and refused to premiere it. 

The finale's main tune is so catchy, but so frivolous,

Iow, so French. 

Kalkbrenner

Heinrich Heine (who else?) wrote of him that "he looks like a bonbon that has fallen into the mud". 

Pleasant entertainments.

That's exactly what they were intended to be.