Baroque Splendor: Muffat's Missa in labore requies

Audite 97.539 (SACD) (2016)
Georg Muffat (1653-1704): Missa in labore requies a 24
Heinrich Ignaz Biber (1644-1704): Sonata VI a 5: Sonata VIII a 5
Antonio Bertali (1605-1669): Sonata Sancti Placidi a 14: Sonata a 13
Johann Heinrich Schmelzer (circa 1623-1680): Sonata XII a 7
Cappella Murensis
Les Cornets Noirs
Johannes Strobl

Recorded in the magnificently orotund acoustics of the Abbey Church of Muri in Switzerland, this 2016 performance of Georg Muffat's only surviving sacred work is truly a joy to hear. The German Audite label gives us an uncannily naturalistic super-audio sound that captures the festive verve and antiphonal grandeur of the music without superfluous bombast or technical gimmickry. The Mass--apparently composed for an episcopal coronation coinciding with the celebration of Pentecost--features two vocal and three instrumental choirs, here luxuriously deployed throughout the Muri sanctuary with its four corner galleries high above the main floor. Yet all forces are superbly balanced, lending a sense of fleetness and transparency to the score that has often been missing in recordings of music from this period (most notoriously in some of Paul McCreash's muddy readings of Biber and Schutz for DG Archiv). Soloists, choir, and strings create a delightful synergy in play with the outstanding Les Cornets Noirs--baroque brass has seldom sounded so vibrant or so lithe; the creative use of stops and mutes in sections of the Credo is truly revelatory. The diverse 'sacred sonatas' for strings and brass by Muffat's contemporaries that fill out the disc are equally well-played and highly enjoyable.

The disc comes in a standard SACD jewel case with a 31-page booklet, featuring program notes in German and English, with an extensive--and fascinating--essay about the life and work of the composer--a colleague and rival of Biber at the court of Salzburg from 1678 to 1690--by Ernst Hintermeier, peppered with mouth-watering tidbits of musicological trivia. The manuscript of the Missa Labore in Requies eventually came into the possession of no less a figure than Franz Joseph Haydn, and resided in the musical collection of the Esterhazy family until its "discovery" in 1991 (before which the work had been deemed spurious by the broader scholarly community).

Overall a very handsome and desirable production. If you are a fan of Jordi Saval's exciting readings of Biber and Monteverdi, Strobl's Muffat will definitely be for you.

A Life in Collecting: Thirty Years with the Compact Disc

I collected my first compact disc thirty years ago in 1986. I'd been collecting LPs for twelve years prior to that, having built up a collection of about 1,000 albums on vinyl. The first CD I ever owned was Chandos CHAN 8332 (1984) Mary's Music: Songs and Dances from the Time of Mary Queen of Scots, performed by the Scottish Early Music Consort under Warwick Edwards. I still have it today, and it sounds just as good as it did three decades ago. (Those who claim that CDs somehow 'deteriorate' over time, or are damaged by repeated playing, are clearly misinformed.) In many ways, I have never looked back. My current collection comprises nearly 1700 CD albums (aproximately 3000 discs) and grows a little more each week.

I do recall with some nostalgic fondness the first few years of LP collecting, the youthful thrill of discovery, and the endearing intimacy of the medium. But, if we're being honest, it must be said that LPs--vinyl in general--had a fair number of serious problems related to storage and playback. Not least among these was the utter abysmal production quality of certain American labels in the late 70s and early 80s: buying anything on RCA, Nonesuch, or EMI/Angel was a virtual crap-shoot back then as chances were very good the record would be badly warped or otherwise unplayable. This was one reason I turned heavily towards imported pressings on European affiliate labels--all fine and good when the US dollar was strong and imports fairly cheap in the early 80s (and I certainly did my part to inflate the US trad deficit in those years!) but the party was not to last. CDs were already on the horizon and looking like an increasingly attractive (if not always less expensive) alternative.

I hung on (or held out as it were) for a few years, having invested so much passion, money, and time in my LP collection. But the writing was on the wall. I tried to use the best playback equipment I could afford (a very good Philips turntable for starters), and when the experience was 'on' it was very good indeed. But, more often than not, I would be a nervous wreck, worrying about whether the balance on the turntable was up to snuff, whether my stylus was wearing down the grooves, or whether the records were being stored in the optimal upright position--I spent a fair chunk of money on heavy-cardboard cases--or whether the LP surface was sufficiently clean and static free, given the latest pronouncements in the endless debate about the efficacy of DiscWasher products--I still have my trusty old Zero-Stat gun!--or wondering how some new pop or click had mysteriously appeared on a surface I'd taken pains to assure was pristine . . .

In the end, I spent thousands of dollars, only to discover that I wasn't enjoying the experience very much--that I was effectively being distracted by the medium itself, and these problems were seriously getting in the way of the essential enjoyment of the music.

Not that early CDs didn't have their fair share of  issues. Compact discs were touted heavily in the early 80s with some rather extravagant and 'creative' claims made about the nascent medium that, in retrospect, seem almost comical. In its efforts to gain a market foothold, the industry insisted that CDs were 'virtually indestructible' and 'less prone to skipping' (both assertions quickly disproved), along with the still hotly-debated claim that 'CDs sound better than records . . .' This latter notion was belied by far too many early digital releases, which suffered from harsh trebles, raucous basses, and muddy mid-ranges, mastered at extreme levels, either flat-out, wide-open, speaker-blowingly LOUD (the Swedish BIS label even included a warning on its jewel cases!) or maddeningly muted, so soft as to require a furious right-ward twist of the volume knob that seldom made things sound better. (The Chandos label was conspicuously guilty of excess at both ends of the spectrum.)

Probably the best case for the new technology, Sony Japan's 1985 re-issues of the classic Bruno Walter/Columbia SO recordings of Mozart, Brahms, and Bruckner were stunning, retaining the best qualities of the warm, early-60s (pre-transistor) recorded sound, with a thoughtfully expanded dynamic range and improved clarity of detail (notwithstanding a vestigial hint of tape hiss). These early issues are still very much worth seeking out, especially considering the disappointing quality of many of Sony's subsequent re-masterings:

CBS MK 42024: Brahms Double Concerto 

CBS MK 42929: Brahms Symphony #1 (1960)

CBS MK 42021: Brahms Symphony #2 (1960)

CBS MK 42022: Brahms Symphony #3 (1960)

CBS MK 42023: Brahms Symphony #4 (1960)

CBS MK 42035: Bruckner Symphony #4 (1961)

CBS M2K 42036: Bruckner Symphony #7; Wagner Siegfried Idyll (1963)

CBS MK 42037: Bruckner Symphony #9 (1960)

CBS MK 42029: Mozart: Eine Kleine Nachtmusik etc. (1961)

CBS MK 42026: Mozart Symphonies #s 35 and 39 (1960, 1963)

CBS MK 42027: Mozart Symphonies #s 36 and 38 (1960, 1963)

CBS MK 42028: Mozart Symphonies #s 40 and 41 (1959, 1960)

From the beginning, it has been my goal to re-collect on CD virtually everything I once owned on LP. This has been relatively easy a lot of the time, much more difficult and expensive for many things, and nigh on to impossible for a few titles from more obscure labels that seem to have vanished into the mists of commercial oblivion, never to be resurrected on CD or any other format--not to mention those performances the major labels stubbornly refuse to pull from their vaults. Nonetheless, I am always thrilled to re-discover an old friend. Some of my most joyous recent finds include the 1993 re-issue of Bernard Kruysen and Noel Lee's 1973 recital of Ravel Mélodies on Valois (V 4700),  John Eliot Gardiner's lush rendition of Purcell's music for The Tempest (Erato 2292-45555-2 (1980)),  and the 2013 re-issue of Ole Schmidt's 1974 Nielsen cycle (the first complete stereo cycle, originally appearing on the Unicorn label) (Alto ALC 2505).

I am particularly encouraged by the current trend towards retrospective box sets. This not only allows one to collect a great deal of wonderful music at reasonable price, but is, ultimately, the most convenient, least problematic form of packaging for optical media. The jewel case and its myriad variations comes with a whole raft of problems, including inconsistent quality standards, sub-par manufacture, brittle, cheap plastics that can damage disc surfaces, and ill-considered design that takes up too much space on the shelf while affording little protection for the discs. If I have a serious pet peeve, it's broken or cracked 3- or 4-disc jewel cases (difficult and expensive to replace) and media trays that either fail to hold the discs in place, allowing them to rattle around loose inside the case, or are too tight, threatening possible damage to the spindle holes on removal.

Still, all things considered, it's been a good thirty years. In the end, I think, CDs have lasted and will continue to have a place in recorded music because of their ingenious simplicity.

just a small peek at some of my collection!

Ravel's 'L'Heure espagnole' and 'L'Enfant et les sortileges': recent recordings

Decca 478 6760 (2015)
Ravel: L'Enfant et les sortileges
Shéhérazade; Alborada del gracioso
Isabel Leonard (L'enfant (soprano))
Susan Graham (Shéhérazade (soprano))
Seiji Ozawa/Saito Kinen Orchestra et al.

Naxos 8.660366 (2015)
Ravel: L'Enfant et les sortileges;
Ma Mère l'Oye (complete ballet)
Hélène Hébrard (L'enfant (soprano))
Leonard Slatkin/Orchestre National de Lyon

Naxos 8.660337 (2016)
Ravel: L'Heure espagnole;
Don Quichotte à Dulcinée
Isabelle Druet (Concepcion (mezzo-soprano))
Luca Lombardo (Torquemada the clockmaker (tenor))
Frédéric Antoun (Gonzalve (tenor))
Marc Barrard (Ramiro (baritone))
Nicolas Courjal (Don Inigo Gomez (bass))
Francois Le Roux (baritone (Don Quichotte))
Leonard Slatkin/Orchestre National de Lyon


Few recordings have captured the lyric whimsy--the sheer magic--of Ravel's L'Enfant et les sortileges
quite so brilliantly as Seiji Ozawa's 2015 release from Decca. The 1925 score, to a libretto by Collette, is here exquisitely detailed, revealing an extraordinary, vibrant range of color and emotion. Leonard Slatkin's 2015 reading for Naxos, while not attaining the same ecstatic heights, is still very fine, and well worth the label's bargain asking price. I was less impressed with Hélène Hébrard's Enfant--perhaps a tad too mature-sounding by comparison with Isobel Leonard's wonderfully characterized performance for Ozawa. The accompanying ensembles are well-matched--at least on paper--but Slatkin's Lyon players feel less involved, and Naxos' recorded sound--superb as it is--does not capture the same level of fine detail within the score.

Slatkin also recorded Ravel's earlier one-act opera buffa L'Heure espagnole (1911) for Naxos in 2016, and this, too, is more than merely serviceable, featuring an excellent cast, consistently well-accompanied, though I think, ultimately, it lacks the 'authority' of the classic recordings by Lorin Maazel (DG (The Originals) 449 649 (1997 re-issue from 1965)) or Ernest Ansermet for Decca. (And one is more than a little perplexed by Francois Le Roux's awful, misbegotten interpretations of the three Don Quichotte songs as filler on the disc. What could the folks at Naxos possibly have been thinking?)

Music to Hear! Great Compositions Inspired by the Bard

Sonnet VIII

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly,

Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy;

Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly

Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy? 

If the true concord of well-tuned sounds

By Unions married do offend thine ear,

They do but sweetly chide thee who confounds

In singleness the part that thou should'st bear.

Mark how one string, sweet husband to another

Strikes each in each by mutual ordering,

Resembling sire and child and happy mother,

Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:

Whose speechless song being many seeming one,

Sings this to thee: thou single wilt prove none.

As the world marks the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death on 23 April, 1616, I thought it apropos to highlight a few interesting musical works inspired by the Bard. Of course, Mendelssohn's music for A Midsummer Night's Dream and Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet  will be on everyone's list--and there are dozens of fine recordings of each from Sir Thomas Beecham and Andre Previn to Claudio Abbado and Charles Dutoit--but I've opted for a few slightly-more off-the-beaten-track choices, especially things I think more adventuresome listeners might enjoy discovering.


1.
Gustav Holst: At the Boar's Head  Op. 42 (chamber opera)

With a libretto by the composer based on scenes from  Henry IV Part 1 and Henry IV Part 2,  Holst's charming, if somewhat uneven, 1925 chamber opera is a delightful rarity that ought to be better known.

Warner Classics 50999 9 68929 2 (2009)

2.
Gerald Finzi: Love's Labours Lost (incidental music)

As to be expected, Finzi's incidental score for Love's Labours Lost is hauntingly beautiful, lyrical, melancholy, and memorable.

Nimbus NI 5665 (2001)

3.
Igor Stravinsky: Three Songs from William Shakespeare (1953)
for mezzo soprano, flute, clarinet, and viola

These marvelous, minimalist 'anti-settings' from the composer's early foray into serialism, continue to fascinate. The colorfully complex interplay of the vocal soloist and the accompanying trio is an understated wonder to hear.

Deutsche Gramophone 1660 502 (2012)

4.
Benjamin Britten: A Midsummer Night's Dream

Britten's treatment of A Midsummer Night's Dream may be more about atmosphere than story, but saying so in no way denigrates its manifold beauties. This gossamer, light-spangled score is as delicate as a fairy's wing, but the music also captures Shakespeare's wondrous sense of lyric levity and bathos.

Virgin (Erato) 50999 6406212 (2010 re-issue)

5.
Ralph Vaughan Williams: Serenade to Music and Shakespeare Songs for Chorus

Vaughan Williams returned to Shakespeare for inspiration throughout his life, from the enigmatic, ghostly  finale of the Sixth Symphony--obliquely referencing Prospero's "we are such stuff as dreams are made of" from The Tempest-- to his setting of the same words in the Three Shakespeare Songs for Chorus from 1951, to the lithe and languorous strains of the Serenade to Music, based on one of the most famous passages from The Merchant of Venice.

Telarc 80676 (2007)

6.
Verdi: Falstaff

Verdi's final operatic statement--and his only comic opera-- brilliantly captures the ebullient, colorful--and occasionally off-color--spirit of its title character.

Deutsche Gramophone 875 202 (2007 re-issue)

7.
Sibelius: The Tempest (incidental music)

One of Sibelius' last great works, the two suites derived from his incidental music for a 1926 Danish production of The Tempest are, in many ways, like nothing else he ever composed. Highly imaginative, colorful, and engaging, this music invokes the elements as deftly as Prospero wielding his own weird and terrifying enchantments.

Hänssler Classics CD 98 353 (2000)

8.
Berlioz: Béatrice et Bénédict

Another work of old age, Berlioz' magnificent opera based on Much Ado About Nothing, though certainly less-well-known than his Romeo et Juliet, is, nonetheless, an uncharacteristically sunny masterpiece, and a sheer delight from beginning to end.

Philips (Duo) 475 221 (2003)

9.
Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet (ballet)

Prokofiev's 1935 ballet score ingeniously conveys the tragedy and tenderness, poignancy and drama of this immortal tale of star-crossed lovers. Romeo and Juliet is rightfully considered an essential part of the standard repertory today.

RCA (Red Seal) 59424 (2004)

10.
Alfred Reed: Othello

This symphonic poem for band is highly effective in its dramatic impact. Well worth a listen, along with Reed's other Shakespeare-inspired compositions.

Klavier Records 11151 (2005)

11.
Purcell: The Tempest

Lovely music with a goodly dose of Restoration-era silliness, taking its share of liberties with Shakespeare's original, yet endearing in its own right all the same.

Erato 2292 45555-2 (1992)

12.
Walton: Richard III (film score)

Of all Walton's wonderful scores composed for Laurence Olivier's Shakesperare films, Richard III from 1953 has always struck me as the most singularly effective, from the opening fanfare of the overture to the marvelously broad march theme, and soaring neo-romantic melodies, every note conveys purpose and power, even--and especially--when heard 'out of context' beyond the film. While I dearly love Walton's scores for Henry V (1944) and Hamlet (1948), Richard III is the one that I would probably take with me to that proverbial desert isle.

Chandos CHAN 10435 (2007)

13.
Patrick Doyle: Henry V (film score)

Patrick Doyle's score for Kenneth Banagh's glorious 1988 film production of Henry V is a masterpiece of small gestures and soaring melodies. Doyle's ecstatic setting of the Non Nobis Domine, heard following the climactic battle of Agincourt, elucidates and deepens one of the most moving and poignant moments in all cinema. Unforgettable!

EMI CDC 7 49919 2 (1989)

14.
Shostakovich: Hamlet (film score)

Grigori Kosintzev's 1964 Russian-language production of Hamlet (in a translation by Boris Pasternak) was highly influential far beyond the realm of Soviet cinema, inspiring the likes of John Gielgud and Kenneth Branagh. Shostakovich's dark, brooding, creepy score is certainly an element of the film's success.

Naxos 8.557446 (2004)

Kenneth Leighton: A Basic Discography

The British composer Kenneth Leighton (1929-1988) is probably best known for his youthful setting of Lully Lulla Thou Little Tiny Child from Opus 25, a perennial choral favorite around Christmas. But, so far from being the proverbial one-hit wonder, Leighton was, in truth, one of the finest composers of his generation--worthy to be considered alongside his older, more famous contemporaries, Britten and Tippett. Possessed of a fecund and far-ranging musical imagination, Leighton, like few others, was consistently able to strike that rare balance between seriousness and accessibility. His tonal language can be eclectic--ranging from the lushly colorful (as in his Symphony #3 Op. 90) to the searingly acerbic (Concerto for Organ, Strings Orchestra and Timpani Op. 58), to a warmly personal, uniquely accessible brand of serialism (Symphony #1 Op. 42)-- but always at the service of an essentially lyric sensibility, profound mysticism, the youthful wonder of discovery, and existential awe. Individual pieces by Leighton can be found on numerous anthologies and collections, but the following discography focuses mostly on albums dedicated solely to this composer and his extraordinary music.

KENNETH LEIGHTON: A BASIC DISCOGRAPHY

Linn Records CKD 329 (SACD) (2010)
Leighton: Earth Sweet Earth (song cycle) Op. 94
Britten: Winter Words Op. 52
James Gilchrist (tenor)
Anna Tilbrook (piano)

Hyperion CDA68039 (2015)
Leighton: Crucifixus pro nobis Op. 38
Magnificat and Nunc dimitis 'Collegium Magdalenae'
Missa Brevis Op. 50; The Second Service Op. 62
God's Grandeur; Give Me the Wings of Faith; 
What Love is This of Thine?; Ite missa est (organ solo)
Stephen Layton/The Choir of Trinity College, Cambridge

Naxos 8.555795 (2004)
Leighton: Sacred Choral Music
An Easter Sequence;
Crucifixus pro nobis Op. 38
Magnificat and Nunc dimitis 'Collegium Magdalenae'
The Second Service Op. 62;
Give Me the Wings of Faith; What Love is This of Thine?
Christopher Robinson/Choir of St. John's College, Cambridge

Resonus RES10178 (3-CD set) (2017)
Leighton: Complete Organ Works
Stephen Farr. Nicky Spence

Naxos 8.572601 (2011)
Leighton: Music for Organ
Missa da gloria
Et Resurrexit
Hymn Fantasies
Greg Morris (organ)

Chandos CHAN 9132 (1993)
Leighton: Fantasy on an American Hymn Tune Op. 70
Alleluia Pascha Nostrum Op. 85
Variations for Piano Op. 30
Sonata for Piano Op. 64
Janet Hilton (clarinet (Op. 70))
Raphael Wallfisch (cello (Op. 85))
Peter Wallfisch (piano)

Naxos 8.571358 (2015)
Leighton: Chamber Works for Cello
Elegy Op. 5;
Partita Op. 35;
Sonata for cello and piano Op. 52;
Alleluia pascha nostrum for cello and piano Op. 85
Raphael Wallfisch (cello)
Raphael Terroni (piano)

Delphian 34301 (3-disc set) (2006)
Leighton: Complete Solo Piano Works
Angela Brownridge

Meridian  Records 84460 (2002)
Leighton: String Quartet #1 Op. 32
String Quartet #2 Op. 33
Seven Variations for String Quartet Op. 43
Edinburgh String Quartet

Chandos CHAN 10461 (2008)
Leighton: Orchestral Works Vol. 1
Symphony for Strings Op. 3
Concerto for Organ, String Orchestra and Timpani Op. 58
Concerto for String Orchestra Op. 39
John Scott (organ)
Richard Hickox/BBC National Orchestra of Wales

Chandos CHAN 10495 (2008)
Leighton: Orchestral Works Vol. 2
Symphony #2 'Sinfonia Mistica' Op. 69
Te Deum Laudamus
Sarah Fox (soprano, Te Deum)
Richard Hickox/BBC National Orchestra and Chorus of Wales

Chandos CHAN 10608 (2010)
Leighton: Orchestral Works Vol. 3
Symphony #1 Op. 42
Concerto #3 'Concerto estivo'  (for piano and orchestra) Op. 57
Howard Shelly (piano)
Martyn Brabbins/BBC National Orchestra of Wales

Chandos CHAN 10307X (2005 re-issue from 1989)
Leighton: Concerto for Cello and Orchestra Op. 31
Symphony #3 'Laudes musicae' Op. 90
Raphael Wallfisch (cello)
Neil Mackie (tenor, Symphony #3)
Bryden Thomson/Scottish National Orchestra

J.S. Bach's St. John Passion: A new interpretation from René Jacobs

Harmonia-Mundi HMC 802236.37 (2-CD box set plus DVD) (2016)
J.S. Bach: St. John Passion BWV 245
Werner Güra (tenor (evangelist))
Sunhae Im (soprano)
Benno Schauchtner (alto)
Sebastian Kohlhepp (tenor)
Johannes Weisser (bass (Jesus))
RIAS Chamber Choir
Akademie für Alte Musik, Berlin
René Jacobs


Gorgeously sung and played, recorded in stunning, naturalistic Super-Audio sound, René Jacobs' 2016 reading of Bach's St. John Passion captures the poignancy and pathos, drama and profound introspection of one of the composer's most personal and moving works. What makes this set not merely desirable, but indispensable is the inclusion of an appendix comprising highlights from the original 1725 version of the score--a fascinating glimpse into Bach's creative process--the final version we know today was only completed shortly before the composer's death in 1750. The later, more familiar version, strikes one as much more austere and inward looking yet also more emotionally direct, where the original is positively extrovert by comparison, more conventionally dramatic, and brimming with lyric opulence.

Jacobs' closest competition here is, no doubt, John Eliot Gardiner's 1986 reading with the Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists for DG Archive (most recently available in a 22-disc box set: Bach Sacred Masterpieces (477 8735 (2010)). Both versions feature excellent soloists and wonderful singing, but I would have to give the laurel to Jacobs due in no small part to the stunning sound of the RIAS Chamber Choir. Simply glorious! (Also from 2010, a 10-disc box set from Sony features Helmuth Rillings' 1984 Hänssler Classics recording of the St. John Passion, but I came away deeply disappointed and even somewhat disillusioned by a performance that seems ponderous and heavy-handed, notwithstanding the presence of such notable soloists as Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Peter Schrier, Arlene Auger and Julia Hamari (Sony (Masters Series) 88697687172 (2010)). After hearing the Jacobs version, I will probably never listen to the Rilling again.

Harmonia-Mundi's elegant packaging is, in itself, a delight to the senses. The substantial box includes a documentary DVD in addition to a glossy 107-page booklet. The booklet is nested atop a sort of 'trap door' under which the two SACDs are housed in discretely 'built-in' media trays. It's a clever and very elegant solution to a problem that has too often vexed manufacturers and collectors over the decades.

René Jacobs' new interpretation of the St. John Passion is recommended without reservation.

Henryk Górecki: A Nonesuch Retrospective

Nonesuch 7559-79497-4 (7-disc box set) (2016)
Henryk Górecki: A Nonesuch Retrospective
Lerchenmusik: Recitatives and Ariosos Op. 53
Symphony #3 'Symphony of Sorrowful Songs' Op. 36
Symphony #4 'Tansman Episodes' Op. 85
Kleines Requiem für eine Polka Op. 66
Harpsichord Concerto Op. 40
Goodnight Op. 63
Already It Is Dusk (String Quartet #1) Op. 62
Quasi una fantasia (String Quartet #2) Op. 64
Songs are Sung (String Quartet #3) Op. 67
Euentes ebant et flebant Op. 32
Amen Op. 35
Broad Waters Op. 39
Miserere Op. 44
My Vistula, Grey Vistula Op. 46
Dawn Upshaw (soprano)
Elzbieta Chojnacka (harpsichord)
Michael Collins (clarinet)
Christopher van Kampen (cello)
John Constable (piano)
Chicago Symphony Chorus
Lira Chamber Chorus
Kronos Quartet
London Sinfonietta/London Sinfonietta Soloists
London Philharmonic Orchestra
David Zinman (conductor)
Aubrey Boreyeko (conductor)


This will be self-recommending to Górecki fans. The sturdy box contains seven discs, each in its own discrete cardboard sleeve featuring a reproduction of original album-cover art. The music, which first appeared on Nonesuch between 1991 and 2016, is here arranged exactly as in the original issues, with no additional filler material--meaning that some of these discs time out at less than forty minutes. The quality of the recorded sound is excellent throughout. (I can find no reference to re-mastering in the documentation.) The accompanying booklet includes original liner notes along with information about the performances and production personnel. Taken altogether, this is an extremely attractive presentation, lending an apt sense of occasion and gravitas, and should make a welcome addition to any library of late-20th century classics alongside other Nonesuch retrospective sets for, among others, Eliot Carter, Steve Reich, and Philip Glass.

This being said, I have never been especially enthusiastic about Górecki's oeuvre--what a friend of mine once not-half-jokingly referred to as 'the musical equivalent of white noise.' Most of what has been recorded in the last few decades--including everything included in this set--dates from his late, so-called 'holy minimalist' period, which, to my ears, often seems overly spare, acerbic, static, and rather bland. I characterize much of this music as 'the apotheosis of inertia,' for there is very little forward momentum as one would expect from a traditional, linearly-conceived composition, yet neither are there more than a few brief moments of genuinely interesting thematic engagement as in a purely episodic conception. The music seems to stand still, going nowhere, making the same, bombastically un-modulated statement again and again. I don't find this profound or mystical, daring, revolutionary, ingenious, or even particularly original, The best I can say for much of this music is that I don't hate it quite as vehemently as I once did.

This does not mean that a curious listener cannot find interest or pleasure in the music. Górecki is simply one of those composers who require a bit more dedication--and certainly more concentration--on the listener's part. If I dislike something, my inclination is to understand why I dislike it, and, I have to admit that I was able to make something akin to a peace with much of this music after three or four additional listening sessions.

Thus, highlights for me include the choral works on disc 4, which, bleak as they often can be, nonetheless offer listeners something approaching a kind of stark beauty. The Kleines Requiem für eine Polka Op. 66 and the Harpsichord Concerto Op. 40 (both on Disc 5) reveal the occasional flash of humor, and the slow, dark, brooding  Already It Is Dusk (String Quartet #1) Op. 62 surely invites repeated listenings. There is atmosphere to be sure, as in the Szymonowski-esque second movement of the wildly-popular Symphony #3 (Symphony of Sorrowful Songs) which made the composer the darling of the New Age movement in the 1990s, a work, not surprisingly, unique within the composer's oeuvre, a-typically linear, lyrical, consonant, and traditionally accessible--though one wonders how many of those starry-eyed New Agers actually bought the original CD for anything other than 'soothing background music' or a sheep-like need to fit in with the latest popular trend.