What are you listening 2 now?

[Linz]

Gustav Mahler Symphony No.1 in D Major "Titan"
New York Philharmonic, Leonard Bernstein

[Dry Brett Kavanaugh]

Reza Vali.

[Linz]

Anton Bruckner Symphony No. 7 in E Major,  1885 Version. Ed.Leopold Nowak
Wiener Philharmoniker, Karl Böhm

[Karl Henning]

A small thing, but I prefer the horn to take the concluding solo of the Adagio movement. Both of these recordings hand it over to the clarinet. Too bad!
VS

As a clarinetist, I respect your opinion, my friend!

[JBS]

Third time playing this. I have to admit that as pleasant as they are, all three concertos sound similar: generic folk-music-influenced Soviet concertos.

[Symphonic Addict]

Great disc. Romeo and Juliet particularly is a dazzling score. The movement Sonatina is a hoot!

Music for orchestra is a generic title for a serious and cogent piece. The other two pieces on the disc have good ideas too, but not at the same level as the aforementioned ones.

[Linz]

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Adagios, Notturni, Horn Duos, Divertimentos K 1888
Martin van de Merwe; Irma Kort; Johann Steinmann; Remco De Vries; Hans Wisse; Jos Buurman

[Karl Henning]

[Symphonic Addict]

Widor: Piano Quartet in A minor, op. 66

Not only did Widor write remarkable organ music, but also some strong chamber music like this piano quartet containing delectable writing for all the instruments. Mightily impressed.

[Spotted Horses]

Franz Liszt
Paralipomènes à la Divina Commedia
Après une lecture du Dante – Fantasia quasi Sonata

Pianist: Leslie Howard

What is a Paralipomènes?

[Symphonic Addict]

Gordon Jacob: Piano Sonata (Camilla Köhnken)

Another piece that manages to make quite a favourable impression. I remember having very good memories about one of his symphonies and one of his piano concertos, both on Lyrita.

[AnotherSpin]

Never fancied a tattoo myself. The idea has never truly appealed. Still, someone dear to me is rather artfully inked, and I have no objection. From a certain vantage point, whether you call it detached witness or simply clear seeing, it's all fleeting: the skin, the ink, the fake self we cobble together. If there's no clinging, no ego stitched into the design, then a tattoo is just a flourish on a passing form, a comment on imagined personal history, neither noble nor daft. Some steer clear to avoid mistaking the body for who they are, while others mark it lightly, knowing full well it all washes off in the end. Either way, it is no great metaphysical drama.

[Harry]

Domenico Dall'Oglio (c1700–1764)
Sonatas for Violin & B.C.
From: XII Sonate A Violino e Violoncello, o Cimbalo,
dedicate a Sua Eccellenza il Sig. Conte Rinaldo Lowenwolde, Gran Maresciallo di Corte di sua Maestà Imperatrice di tutte le Russie (Paris, 1738)

Maria Krestinskaya – violin (Giovanni Paolo Maggini, Brescia 1627)
Grigory Krotenko – bassetto (Giovanni Paolo Maggini, Brescia 1600; restored by Alexey Vorobyev, Moscow)
Imbi Tarum – harpsichord (after Giusti by John Byron Will, Portland, 1983); organ (Norbert Kirchner, 1995)

Recorded 2–4 May 2017 at Augustiner Chorherrenstift St. Florian, Sommerrefektorium (Austria)
Streaming: FLAC 44.1kHz/16-bit · PDF file attached · Label: Pan Classics

To tackle the violin sonatas of Domenico Dall'Oglio is no minor feat. These works — all but forgotten since their 1738 Paris publication — are fiendishly demanding, stylistically fluid, and shot through with flashes of true originality. They seem to stand with one foot in the world of Corelli and the other inching toward something proto-classical and uncharted. One must be technically sound, musically alert, and interpretively daring.

Maria Krestinskaya has the first requirement in spades: her technique is impressive and secure. But what emerges in this reading is a carefulness bordering on caution. The phrasing is clean, but emotionally reserved. The tempos, uniformly slow, give the impression not of spaciousness but of restraint. One often longs for more breath, more fire, more risk — for the moment when these highly inventive sonatas might leap from the page into genuine life. Instead, they linger, measured and meditative, beautiful in form but slightly anaemic in spirit.

The basso continuo, however, is exceptional. Grigory Krotenko's bassetto and Imbi Tarum's harpsichord (and later, organ) shape a sonic world that is poised, warm, and exquisitely supportive. It is here that the magic gathers: the gamba's low murmurs and the harpsichord's clean articulation create a resonance around the violin, holding it in a kind of suspended intimacy. One feels that they understand the music instinctively — they listen, and in doing so, give Dall'Oglio's ideas the space to breathe and echo.

Gunar Letzbor's hand as executive producer is also unmistakable. The soundscape is luminous, clearly defined, and typical of Letzbor's house style — with a forward placement of the solo instrument and an emphasis on spatial articulation. Yet here, the violin's brightness occasionally becomes piercing. At times, Krestinskaya's tone crosses from focused into strident, producing unwanted peaks that disrupt the otherwise fine balance. The recording environment itself — the Sommerrefektorium at St. Florian — provides excellent clarity, but also reveals every tonal misstep with cruel honesty.

Despite all of this, the recording deserves attention. There is little else available from Dall'Oglio, and this performance, for all its interpretive conservatism, introduces a genuinely intriguing composer whose voice deserves rediscovery. These are not derivative works. They are exploratory, engaging, and at times startling in their inventiveness. That they are not yet fully realised here does not diminish their worth.

One hopes that this is only the beginning of a revival. And for those of us who collect musical trailblazers — even flawed ones — this disc earns its place on the shelf.

[Florestan]

What is a Paralipomènes?

A French plural word, the equivalent of the English and German paralipomena.

https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english/paralipomena

https://www.cnrtl.fr/definition/paralipom%C3%A8nes/

Probably the most famous usage of the word is in Schopenhauer's Parerga und Paralipomena.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parerga_and_Paralipomena

I'm sure @Wanderer can further illuminate the matter.

[Lisztianwagner]

What is a Paralipomènes?

@Florestan gave all the information, but anyway it was the piece S. 158a which after several reworking became Aprés une lecture de Dante, Liszt used that word meaning a supplement to Dante's poem.

[Harry]

Jacques Leduc (1932–2016)
Orchestral works.
Ouverture d'Été op. 28 · Symphonie op. 28 · Le Printemps op. 25
Orchestre Philharmonique de Liège – Pierre Bartholomée.
Recorded 1996 at the Conservatoire Royal de Liège .
Streaming: FLAC 44.1kHz/16-bit.
Label: Cyprès,  No PDF file attached.

It is a curious and disheartening fact that Jacques Leduc remains, even now, a name largely absent from the broader concert stage. His works are seldom recorded, rarely performed, and scarcely mentioned in surveys of postwar European music. One listens, then, to this finely wrought disc with growing astonishment: for here is a composer of imagination, craft, and undeniable poetic voice — a voice not brash or declarative, but one that glows softly, insists quietly, and paints its musical canvases with remarkable grace.

All three works featured here — Le Printemps, Ouverture d'Été, and the Symphonie — reveal a composer deeply attuned to colour, texture, and pacing. Leduc's orchestration is luminous and spacious, with no gesture wasted. His harmonic language stretches tonality, but never abandons it; the music breathes within a lyrical idiom that feels both grounded and searching. There is a particular affinity for brass and timpani writing, handled with clarity and weight, always embedded in the larger shape of the work.

And yet it is the mood of these works — their sense of inner life — that most lingers. Leduc doesn't shout his convictions; he whispers them with conviction. His music often feels like an imaginary landscape — a kind of musical Renoir, where light diffuses over subtle structures, and every now and then, a brushstroke surprises the ear. You lean closer. You listen more intently. And then you realise: there is a singularity here, an unmistakable voice.

Bartholomée and the Orchestre Philharmonique de Liège deserve the highest praise for their advocacy. These are not perfunctory readings but performances shaped with care, clearly born of belief in the composer's value. The Symphonie, in particular, receives a traversal of expressive depth, structural clarity, and dynamic precision. The recording, though CD-era in its sampling, is clean and spacious, capturing the orchestra with natural balance and warmth.

One comes away from this recording not merely impressed, but rather puzzled — puzzled that a composer of such integrity, such luminous orchestral command, remains so overlooked. If this disc is any indication (and it is), Jacques Leduc deserves a place not among the forgotten, but among those rediscovered with gratitude and wonder.

Jacques Leduc and the quiet current of Belgian modernism

A student of Jean Absil and laureate of the Prix de Rome (Belgium) in 1961, Jacques Leduc belonged to the generation of Belgian composers who sought to reconcile tradition with the evolving idioms of postwar Europe. He taught for decades at the Brussels Conservatory and later served as director of the Académie de Musique in Woluwe-Saint-Lambert. Though often described as a neoclassicist, Leduc's work resists easy categorisation: lyrical, harmonically rich, and texturally transparent, it reflects both an inward temperament and a finely honed craft.

His output spans orchestral works, chamber music, concertos, and vocal settings — much of it still unrecorded. If his voice remained modest in public stature, it was no less sincere in musical intent. He may yet be counted among the quiet architects of late 20th-century Belgian music.

[AnotherSpin]

What is a Paralipomènes?

A scan of a booklet fragment, with commentary written by Leslie Howard.

[Que]

Never fancied a tattoo myself. The idea has never truly appealed. Still, someone dear to me is rather artfully inked, and I have no objection. From a certain vantage point, whether you call it detached witness or simply clear seeing, it's all fleeting: the skin, the ink, the fake self we cobble together. If there's no clinging, no ego stitched into the design, then a tattoo is just a flourish on a passing form, a comment on imagined personal history, neither noble nor daft. Some steer clear to avoid mistaking the body for who they are, while others mark it lightly, knowing full well it all washes off in the end. Either way, it is no great metaphysical drama.

A lot of people have quite daft momentos of their personal history inked on their bodies.

But if your girlfriend breaks up with you, you could always look for a new one with the same name. 

What about the music? 

[Que]

A return for the harpsichord works - excellent as well.



But as fellow member Selig mentioned, there is also a very nice recording by Michèle Dévérité:

[AnotherSpin]

Alexander Agricola: The Secret Labyrinth
Paul Van Nevel - Huelgas Ensemble

Link to the painting by Lucas van Valckenborch, a fragment of which was used for the album cover:

https://www.khm.at/kunstwerke/fruehlingslandschaft-mai-1997