What are you listening 2 now?

[Que]

Frescobaldi: Toccate e partite d'intavolatura di cimbalo et organo, libro primo

Sergio Vartolo

Love the music!    My go-tos in organ music by Frescobaldi are Rinaldo Alessandrini and the box set by Franseco Cera.

[Selig]

This just arrived:



Rare surviving music by early Franco-Flemish composer Johannes Brassart (ca. 1440/05 - 1455). Very pretty! 

PS Thnx to Mandryka for the reminder - this recording wasn't available for a very long time but now there are (used) copies on Amazon.

PS II This was issued back in the day that (Belgian) Ricercar still provided liner notes in Dutch. A grant from the Ministry of the Flemish Community undoubtedly helped...

I like the illustration (what is it?)

Another rare Capilla Flamenca recording featuring Brassart:
Zingen en spelen in Vlaamse steden en begijnhoven (Eufoda 1266)
https://www.medieval.org/emfaq/cds/euf1266.htm

[Mandryka]

Frescobaldi: Toccate e partite d'intavolatura di cimbalo et organo, libro primo

Sergio Vartolo

Vartolo is the only performer I've heard who groks the madrigal-without-words quality of the music, especially in Bk 2. 

[Que]

I like the illustration (what is it?)

Another rare Capilla Flamenca recording featuring Brassart:
Zingen en spelen in Vlaamse steden en begijnhoven (Eufoda 1266)
https://www.medieval.org/emfaq/cds/euf1266.htm

Thnx! I have still some Eufoda issues on my bucket list. 

The image is an illustration (fol.38v) from a Flemish Book of Hours c.1460, kept in the library of Glasgow University under MS GEN 288.

https://www.meisterdrucke.be/fijne-kunsten-afdruk/French-School/421400/Ms-Gen-288-f.38v-Het-Heilig-Sacrament-en-twee-engelen,-ca.-1460.html

[Mandryka]

PS II This was issued back in the day that (Belgian) Ricercar still provided liner notes in Dutch. A grant from the Ministry of the Flemish Community undoubtedly helped...

It would be cool if they didn't traslate the notes into French!

(There was a news story I read the other day about a train guard in some Flem part of Belgium who said "Bonjour" to the passengers and was formally reprimanded.

[Que]

Well, I like this approach to Cavazzoni much better... And the Antegnati organ is better recorded as well. Choral contributions are also an improvement.

[Que]

It would be cool if they didn't traslate the notes into French!

(There was a news story I read the other day about a train guard in some Flem part of Belgium who said "Bonjour" to the passengers and was formally reprimanded.

A sensitive issue. I find Brussels, which is officially bilingual, most tricky to navigate...

In the liner notes French comes actually 1st, then Dutch.. and English last...  But I recall your French is excellent. 

[Mandryka]

A sensitive issue. I find Brussels, which is officially bilingual, most tricky to navigate...

In the liner notes French comes actually 1st, then Dutch.. and English last...  But I recall your French is excellent. 

Yes but if I'm in Flemish Belgium I pretend that I can only speak English! My first serious girlfriend was from Antwerp, and that's one of the things I learned from her.

[Mandryka]

Well, I like this approach to Cavazzoni much better... And the Antegnati organ is better recorded as well. Choral contributions are also an improvement.

I find the music a bit drab to be honest. I've enjoyed Marco Antonio more.

[Que]

I find the music a bit drab to be honest. I've enjoyed Marco Antonio more.

The music is not very eventful and pretty standard for the period, but I do enjoin this run on a beautiful Antegnati organ.

Marco Antonio was Girolamo's father, right? I have the harpsichord album by Glen Wilson. Very nice.



And I noticed this:

[Harry]

French Impressions: Chausson & Tailleferre

Ernest Chausson (1855–1899): Concert for Violin, Piano and String Quartet in D major, Op. 21
Germaine Tailleferre (1892–1983): Violin Sonata No. 2, Pastorale in C major, String Quartet, Berceuse.

Rachel Barton Pine, Violin (Guarneri "del Gesù", 1742 'ex-Bazzini, ex-Soldat')
Recorded: 2025 at MP Gannon Concert Hall and Jarvis Opera Hall, DePaul University, Chicago
Streaming: 96kHz/24 bit
Front Cover: Camille Pissarro, The Boulevard Montmartre at Night (1897)

A warm and glowing interpretation of two composers dear to me—both Chausson and Tailleferre have long held court on my list of favourites, and a new release featuring Rachel Barton Pine is always a cause for anticipation. She does not disappoint. Her Guarneri "del Gesù" sings with both radiance and restraint, imbuing this emotionally complex repertoire with grace and grandeur.

Chausson's Concert is a work of deep pathos and lyrical breadth, a lush fusion of French late Romanticism and early Impressionism, poised between Franckian devotion and Debussyan sensuality. Composed in 1891, it stands as one of the era's finest chamber works for violin and piano, framed by the warm textures of a supporting string quartet. The music draws you in at once—its bold gestures and quiet confessions forming a seamless sweep of passion and introspection.

The works by Germaine Tailleferre provide a striking contrast: crystalline, witty, and at times bracing. A member of Les Six, she resisted the dramatic posturing of her Romantic forebears, favouring clarity, lightness, and a gentle iconoclasm. Her Violin Sonata No. 2 and Pastorale shimmer with Gallic charm, while the String Quartet—thorny, even biting at times—glances forward into modernist territory without losing its poise. These are works of elegance, imagination, and quiet strength.

As is often the case with truly good music-making, I soon lost awareness of my surroundings. The performance captured me entirely. Barton Pine and her ensemble partners play with insight and sensitivity—never showy, always in service of the music.

A fellow listener remarked that the recording quality was superb—and I think he was right, though I must confess my DAC is still stretching its legs. With some 200 hours of playback behind it, it likely needs another 200 before revealing its full measure of grace. Until then, I ask for your patience.

[Roasted Swan]

French Impressions: Chausson & Tailleferre

Ernest Chausson (1855–1899): Concert for Violin, Piano and String Quartet in D major, Op. 21
Germaine Tailleferre (1892–1983): Violin Sonata No. 2, Pastorale in C major, String Quartet, Berceuse.

Rachel Barton Pine, Violin (Guarneri "del Gesù", 1742 'ex-Bazzini, ex-Soldat')
Recorded: 2025 at MP Gannon Concert Hall and Jarvis Opera Hall, DePaul University, Chicago
Streaming: 96kHz/24 bit
Front Cover: Camille Pissarro, The Boulevard Montmartre at Night (1897)

A warm and glowing interpretation of two composers dear to me—both Chausson and Tailleferre have long held court on my list of favourites, and a new release featuring Rachel Barton Pine is always a cause for anticipation. She does not disappoint. Her Guarneri "del Gesù" sings with both radiance and restraint, imbuing this emotionally complex repertoire with grace and grandeur.

Chausson's Concert is a work of deep pathos and lyrical breadth, a lush fusion of French late Romanticism and early Impressionism, poised between Franckian devotion and Debussyan sensuality. Composed in 1891, it stands as one of the era's finest chamber works for violin and piano, framed by the warm textures of a supporting string quartet. The music draws you in at once—its bold gestures and quiet confessions forming a seamless sweep of passion and introspection.

The works by Germaine Tailleferre provide a striking contrast: crystalline, witty, and at times bracing. A member of Les Six, she resisted the dramatic posturing of her Romantic forebears, favouring clarity, lightness, and a gentle iconoclasm. Her Violin Sonata No. 2 and Pastorale shimmer with Gallic charm, while the String Quartet—thorny, even biting at times—glances forward into modernist territory without losing its poise. These are works of elegance, imagination, and quiet strength.

As is often the case with truly good music-making, I soon lost awareness of my surroundings. The performance captured me entirely. Barton Pine and her ensemble partners play with insight and sensitivity—never showy, always in service of the music.

A fellow listener remarked that the recording quality was superb—and I think he was right, though I must confess my DAC is still stretching its legs. With some 200 hours of playback behind it, it likely needs another 200 before revealing its full measure of grace. Until then, I ask for your patience.

Barton-Pine is a tremendous player....

[Harry]

Christian Sinding
Sonata Op. 73 in F major – Scènes de la vie Op. 51 – Sonata im alten Stil Op. 99 – Romance Op. 9
Dora Bratchkova, violin | Andreas Meyer-Hermann, piano
Recorded: Kammermusikstudio des SWR Stuttgart, December 2002
Streaming: 44.1kHz / 16-bit recording
Cover artwork: Johan Eric Ericson, Poppy Meadows (1923)

One of my cherished recordings from the past. Since its release in 2002, this disc has never lost its charm nor its musical integrity. It remains, after all these years, a quiet lodestar in my collection—a disc to which I return when emotional clarity or simple beauty is needed.
Neither Dora Bratchkova nor Andreas Meyer-Hermann has become a household name, and truth be told, I have rather lost track of them. But if ever one needed evidence of artistic calibre, this performance surely provides it in abundance.
The second movement, Andante Dolorosa, from the Sonate im alten Stil, Op. 99, is nothing short of heart-rending—one of the most tender and moving utterances Sinding ever penned. From the very first bars, it arrests the breath and draws the soul inward. A lament without theatricality, it is pure, unguarded expression—like a single poppy trembling in the dusk wind.
Yet this moment is not an isolated peak. The entire disc is infused with grace: fluid and attractively contoured melodic lines, gently unpredictable harmonies, brilliant flashes of passagework, and a compelling balance between emotional depth and formal poise. There is intimacy here, and clarity—every detail audible, every gesture imbued with meaning. The Romance, Op. 9, in particular, is rendered with such tactility that the bow seems to brush directly against the skin of memory.

The recording, for its time, is admirably accomplished: the soundstage is warm, intimate, and spacious, allowing the music to unfold naturally—like sun-dappled water, clear and quietly moving.

This is music that belongs neither wholly to the past nor the present, but to that fragile poetic hour imagined by Rossetti:

"A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday."

A forgotten gem, lovingly performed.

Some added info for those interested...

Christian Sinding (1856–1941) occupies a curious place in the northern firmament—neither fully Romantic nor quite Modern, a composer drawn to lush gesture and crystalline form in equal measure. Though often mentioned in passing for his famous Frühlingsrauschen (Rustle of Spring), Sinding's chamber music reveals a more complex and emotionally searching voice.
A pupil of Leipzig, he absorbed the influence of Schumann and Brahms, but his phrasing often leans toward the sweeping lyricism and tonal daring of Wagner and Liszt. In the violin sonatas, one hears a balance of northern clarity and late-Romantic ardour—a yearning that stops just shy of excess, like moonlight caught on still water.
The Sonata im alten Stil, Op. 99, was composed in 1926, toward the twilight of his creative life. Yet its spirit is backward-looking, crafted as an homage to the formal grace of 18th-century style, though burnished with a gentle melancholy that feels unmistakably modern. The Scènes de la vie, Op. 51, composed earlier in 1915, offers glimpses of a life observed in vignettes—lyrical, reflective, and tinged with that Scandinavian introspection we find in Grieg, but with a more cosmopolitan accent. The Sonata Op. 73 in F major stands as perhaps his most substantial violin work—radiant, lyrical, and structurally elegant.

[Harry]

Igor Stravinsky – All' Italiana
Works for Violin and Piano
Dora Bratchkova, violin
Aldo Orvieto, Violeta Popova, Andreas Meyer-Hermann, piano
Recorded 1996–1997, Saarbrücken, SR, M3
Streaming: 44.1kHz/16 bit
Cover: August Macke, Russisches Ballett, 1912

It is always a joy to encounter a violinist who not only plays well, but who plays with purpose—tone, timing, temperament all at the service of the music. Such is the case with Dora Bratchkova, whose commanding poise and sensitive phrasing illuminate every corner of this recital of Stravinsky's works for violin and piano. Her playing is noble but never cold, impassioned yet free from indulgence—a quality not always found in interpretations of this repertoire. She shapes lines like an actor does language, effortlessly pulling narrative from abstraction. She is, quite plainly, an artist.

Stravinsky's stylistic clarity and neoclassical inclination run like a silver thread through the Suite Italienne (1925), a reworking of material from his ballet Pulcinella, which in turn draws on 18th-century Italian sources. The violin and piano here engage in an elegant ballet of their own: witty, light-footed, and full of mischievous little grins. Bratchkova and Orvieto manage to keep the sparkle without losing substance—no small feat in this piece that balances baroque poise with a distinctly modern sense of irony.
The Divertimento (1934), originally arranged from the ballet Le baiser de la fée, is by far the most substantial work on the disc, rich with symphonic ambition and brimming with the rhythmic vitality and harmonic sleight-of-hand that make Stravinsky so thrilling to hear and maddening to imitate. Its ballet origins peek through the textures—one hears not just notes, but silhouettes of dancers behind them. Pianist Violeta Popova pairs beautifully with Bratchkova here: phrasing with flexibility, attacking with sharp precision where needed, and folding herself neatly into the music's balletic architecture.

The Duo concertant (1932) concludes the disc with a more austere elegance. Dedicated to Samuel Dushkin, the violinist with whom Stravinsky closely collaborated, it is arguably the most modern and "pure" in conception: five movements, formally inspired by classical rhetoric—Cantilène, Eclogue, Gigue, Dithyrambe—stripped of excess. It calls for a chamber intimacy and a precise understanding of form, which Bratchkova and Meyer-Hermann provide with grace and understanding.

The sound quality is almost SOTA, an excellent and pleasing—modest reverb, and just enough room for the piano to breathe without swallowing the violin.
All in all, a recording that deserves more ears than it likely gets. Stravinsky's violin works are never quite heart-on-sleeve, but in Bratchkova's hands, they come remarkably close—poised on the edge of intellect and emotion, cool to the touch yet warm at the core.

Epilogue: On Dora Bratchkova for those interested...
Born in Bulgaria and long active in Germany, Dora Bratchkova has built a career both on the concert platform and in the conservatory, where she has served as professor of violin at the Hochschule für Musik in Mannheim. Her playing marries Eastern European expressivity with a Germanic sense of form and discipline—a rare balance that makes her particularly well-suited to repertoire that treads between structure and sentiment. Though she is not a household name, her artistry speaks volumes in the quiet language of those who play not to dazzle, but to reveal.

[Karl Henning]

[Harry]

Nach Willen Dein – Deutsche Lautenmusik der Renaissance
Works by Hans Neusidler, Hans Judenkönig, Arnolt Schlick, and Simon Gintzler
Joachim Held, lute
Originally released by ORF Alte Musik / SWR | Re-released by frabernardo (Digital only)
Recorded 1994 | Venue unknown | Remastered edition

The practice of labels like Frabernardo—reissuing recordings as digital downloads without accompanying PDF booklets—is, to my ears and eyes, a travesty. Call me old-fashioned, but I hold dear the tangible, curated experience of a well-presented CD with liner notes, rather than this faceless wave of monetized minimalism. It no longer feels about the artist, nor even the music—but merely about efficient transactions. Nevertheless, let us not allow bitterness to spoil the bloom of the art within.

And bloom it does. Joachim Held is, and remains, one of my most cherished lutenists. He plays here with a relaxed authority, never drawing too much attention to his virtuosity, yet offering elegant phrasing and deeply considered interpretation. His touch is gentle, the sound intimate—one hears the soft brush of fingers across gut strings, and the occasional wooden breath of the lute's body. These are not distractions; they are, rather, an invitation into a quieter age.

The repertoire spans German Renaissance lute music—rich, earthy, and at times surprisingly tender. Hans Neusidler (1508/09–1563), perhaps the most prominent figure here, was among the earliest professional lutenists to publish his own music, with works brimming with rhythmic vitality and melodic clarity. His dances and preludes, some based on popular songs of the day, strike a careful balance between structured elegance and rustic charm.

Hans Judenkönig (c.1450–1526), one of the earliest known lute pedagogues, contributed significantly to the didactic side of lute music. Though many of his pieces were designed for students, Held renders them with a sense of inner dignity, transforming their simplicity into meditative beauty.

Arnolt Schlick (c.1460–1521), meanwhile, offers a more solemn voice. His music often veers toward the sacred, laced with contrapuntal craft, while Simon Gintzler's rare offerings add an air of quiet mystery—short, fragmentary pieces that gleam like unearthed relics.

The recording itself, though made in 1994, has been beautifully remastered. The background is silent as night, allowing Held's lute to float in an acoustic space just wide enough to breathe, never too dry, never too distant. We do not know where it was recorded, but the sound is intimate and embracing—a room carved of soft wood and stillness.

This is music that soothes the listener into a state of quiet reflection. It does not seek attention—it invites presence. And in Held's hands, each phrase is given space to unfold naturally, like light filtering through old leaded windows.

[springrite]

Christian Sinding
Sonata Op. 73 in F major – Scènes de la vie Op. 51 – Sonata im alten Stil Op. 99 – Romance Op. 9
Dora Bratchkova, violin | Andreas Meyer-Hermann, piano
Recorded: Kammermusikstudio des SWR Stuttgart, December 2002
Streaming: 44.1kHz / 16-bit recording
Cover artwork: Johan Eric Ericson, Poppy Meadows (1923)

One of my cherished recordings from the past. Since its release in 2002, this disc has never lost its charm nor its musical integrity. It remains, after all these years, a quiet lodestar in my collection—a disc to which I return when emotional clarity or simple beauty is needed.
Neither Dora Bratchkova nor Andreas Meyer-Hermann has become a household name, and truth be told, I have rather lost track of them. But if ever one needed evidence of artistic calibre, this performance surely provides it in abundance.
The second movement, Andante Dolorosa, from the Sonate im alten Stil, Op. 99, is nothing short of heart-rending—one of the most tender and moving utterances Sinding ever penned. From the very first bars, it arrests the breath and draws the soul inward. A lament without theatricality, it is pure, unguarded expression—like a single poppy trembling in the dusk wind.
Yet this moment is not an isolated peak. The entire disc is infused with grace: fluid and attractively contoured melodic lines, gently unpredictable harmonies, brilliant flashes of passagework, and a compelling balance between emotional depth and formal poise. There is intimacy here, and clarity—every detail audible, every gesture imbued with meaning. The Romance, Op. 9, in particular, is rendered with such tactility that the bow seems to brush directly against the skin of memory.

The recording, for its time, is admirably accomplished: the soundstage is warm, intimate, and spacious, allowing the music to unfold naturally—like sun-dappled water, clear and quietly moving.

This is music that belongs neither wholly to the past nor the present, but to that fragile poetic hour imagined by Rossetti:

"A little while, a little while,
The weary task is put away,
And I can sing and I can smile,
Alike, while I have holiday."

A forgotten gem, lovingly performed.

Some added info for those interested...

Christian Sinding (1856–1941) occupies a curious place in the northern firmament—neither fully Romantic nor quite Modern, a composer drawn to lush gesture and crystalline form in equal measure. Though often mentioned in passing for his famous Frühlingsrauschen (Rustle of Spring), Sinding's chamber music reveals a more complex and emotionally searching voice.
A pupil of Leipzig, he absorbed the influence of Schumann and Brahms, but his phrasing often leans toward the sweeping lyricism and tonal daring of Wagner and Liszt. In the violin sonatas, one hears a balance of northern clarity and late-Romantic ardour—a yearning that stops just shy of excess, like moonlight caught on still water.
The Sonata im alten Stil, Op. 99, was composed in 1926, toward the twilight of his creative life. Yet its spirit is backward-looking, crafted as an homage to the formal grace of 18th-century style, though burnished with a gentle melancholy that feels unmistakably modern. The Scènes de la vie, Op. 51, composed earlier in 1915, offers glimpses of a life observed in vignettes—lyrical, reflective, and tinged with that Scandinavian introspection we find in Grieg, but with a more cosmopolitan accent. The Sonata Op. 73 in F major stands as perhaps his most substantial violin work—radiant, lyrical, and structurally elegant.

Love the Sinding violin sonatas. I first heard them on the radio in the. early 80's. Still among my favorites!

[Karl Henning]

[Karl Henning]

Well YouTube is just feeding me string quartets, and who am I to object?

[Que]

.