CD Review: Sandro Fuga - Piano sonatas 1-3 (G and C Fuga, C Voghera, piano) Naxos 8.579110

Sandro Fuga (1906-1994) was a prolific composer who has been somewhat overlooked in recent years. Like several other Italian composers of his generation, he came under the influence of Franco Alfano and Giorgio Federico Ghedini – very much opposite ends of the spectrum – both of whom he studied with.

It would appear that when it came to the sonata form, for Sandro Fuga they came in threes: there are a trio of sonatas for piano, violin (recorded on Naxos 8.573142) and cello (recorded on Tactus TC900601). The first and third sonatas are in four movements, the second sonata in three movements.

Fuga’s piano writing, if these recordings are anything to go by, was extremely varied. That said, in these works the imprint of Alfano and Ghedini is hard to detect. There is little doubt that the sonata form pre-occupied him, yet repeated listening shows that his approach to it became more sequential and episodic rather than focussed upon thematic development. As Flavio Menardi Noguera’s useful liner notes make clear, Fuga’s writing is honest, direct and founded upon the many fluctuations of tempo and sonority that inhabit his works. Melody, harmony and rhythm are Fuga’s bedrocks, though sometimes it is all too easy to hear the cracks between them, as it were. Fuga was not always the master of integration, which is why perhaps why I find them of niche interest, rather than something I will revisit often.

The recordings are fine – family members Giacomo and Carlotta Fuga (Sandro’s children, one assumes) take the first and second sonatas respectively. The third sonata is played by Claudio Voghera, who studied with Luciano Giarbella, one of the elder Fuga’s pupils. Each artist has the measure of their respective works and one has the feeling that each recording is more personally important to me than I find them.

CD Review: Shostakovich / Weinberg Piano trios & songs (Kateryna Kasper and Trio Vivente) cpo 555367-2

The pairing of works by mentor and mentee composers can make for a good concept on record. Shostakovich and Weinberg were just two such composers; they knew each other and exchanged artistic ideas for many years. On this recording, the comparison bears fruit through the pairing of piano trios and song cycles.

Shostakovich’s First Piano Trio, from 1923, is an early work. Audibly more carefree than his later compositions, it is notable for being written in a single movement. The Trio Vivente give it a convincing reading, with the instrumental lines clearly articulated in a demonstration quality recording. There is a greater contrast of emotions to be traversed within Weinberg’s Piano Trio, written in 1945. The white-hot passions of the Prelude and Toccata might be more immediately captured in the recordings led by Gidon Kremer (DG) or Linus Roth (Evil Penguin), but Trio Vivente acquit themselves with honour nonetheless. Nowhere is this more the case than in the Trio’s Aria and Poem, which are played with sophistication.

Shostakovich sets the bar rather high with his powerful setting of Seven Romances on Verses by Alexander Blok, written in 1967. Although the instrumental accompaniment provides shades of gloominess, the vocal part is almost uniformly bombastic in nature. This, Kateryna Kasper provides in spades, whilst the Trio Vivente are attentive to the nuances inherent within the accompaniment. More vocal subtlety is evident in Weinberg’s earliest published work, the Jewish Songs, written in 1943. A collection of miniatures that is quirky yet forthright at times, they provide adroit insight to the texts set, bookended by vocalises.

If you are new to Weinberg’s music, this release could provide a way in to his absorbing sound-world, even though you might end your listening experience with the impression he wrote under Shostakovich’s shadow. For that reason alone, it is worth exploring Weinberg beyond the confines of a single recording: there are interesting things to be discovered.

CD Review: Mozart / Voříšek: Symphonies in D (Gewandhaus / Herbert Blomstedt, conductor) Accentus ACC30574

Blessed with talent and longevity, Herbert Blomstedt’s ascension to his position as one of today’s most revered conductors has been a slow and steady one. For many, he was known for his advocacy of Nielsen, Mendelssohn, Orff, Richard Strauss and Sibelius through his Decca recordings, alongside other recordings of Hindemith, Roger Sessions and Harbison amongst others, which might have hinted at his musically enquiring mind. One former Decca exec told me he considered Blomstedt talented but without the charisma to really grab public attention – a somewhat unfair assessment. Since then, the standard fare of Beethoven, Brahms and Schubert symphonic cycles were committed to disc, but so too have accounts of works by Stenhammer, Lidholm and Rosenberg, which hint at the conductors Swedish ancestry.

The present recording is the latest from Blomstedt and Leipzig’s Gewandhaus Orchestra, with whom he has a long association. On one level, the offering of two D major symphonies might be slightly mean, particularly as one of them is Mozart’s “Jupiter”. Does one really need another recording of that? Maybe not, but then, really its role here is to provide context for the Jan Václav Voříšek (1791-1825) symphony. As one of the great Czech composers, these live recordings made in September 2020, capture concerts dedicated to the Gewandhaus Orchestra’s Czech former chief conductor Václav Neumann.

It is hard to fault the performances of either work, but, for me, it’s the Voříšek one that is the most ear-catching. Elegantly played and directed with refined brio, the first of its four movements is driven forward but not at the expense of musicality. The second movement is no less sophisticated, but its tone is more moody and introspective. Blomstedt captures the atmosphere in a way that Charles Mackerras did not quite in his recording for Decca, as Blomstedt handles the transitions with greater confidence. The third movement could be what Schubert might had written, if only he was Czech. The final movement is robust and riotous, as much fun as it is decent to have with the symphonic form.

The Mozart symphony could be said to be performed with scant regard for historically informed practices: it’s an Old School big boned affair with the repeats observed. To my mind, the symphony benefits from this and surely Mozart knew what he intended. Many of the same characteristics that marked out the Voříšek symphony are present here too: superbly handled transitions, detailed yet unobtrusive playing, excellently atmospheric recording quality. The final movement is lengthy due to the repeats, but it is upbeat and filled with sunshine. What more could one want? More Voříšek, perhaps.

CD Review: Enescu Piano Quartet 1; Piano Trio in A Minor (Josu De Soluan, piano, etc) Naxos 8573616

This cracking release brings together two of Enescu’s most brilliant, yet neglected, chamber music compositions.

He attempted writing a piano quartet in 1893, aged twelve, when the young violinist and composer was already a well-established student at the Vienna Conservatoire. His first mature and complete piano quartet, op.16, only followed in 1909 by which time Enescu had transferred to Paris to continue his studies. An early performance was given at Ravel's newly-established Société Indépendante Musicale on 18 May 1910 with Enescu at the piano. The piano quartet is a lengthy work that has sometimes been criticised for not deliberately advancing Enescu's compositional style, but its generosity of expression, thematic material and warm mood peppered with purposeful contrasts offer ample compensations to the listener and makes it deserving of a far wider audience. Throughout, one senses Enescu the composer-architect at work, concerning himself with structural balance and sonata form as integral elements that build and shape his musical edifice. Unsurprisingly, given his Parisian surroundings, various French influences are to be detected.

The opening Allegro moderato at times can sound rather like Chausson, given that the piano part is filled out with tremolo and arpeggio figures, and the movement's lengthy, inexorable fugal elaboration owes much to Fauré, but the unison opening strikingly gives prominence to Enescu's Romanian musical roots; recall similarly narrative passages in the Octet or First Orchestral Suite, for example. The closing coda is noteworthy also for the intricacy of its construction. The second movement is sparsely scored, as befits the marking Andante Mesto, mesto meaning 'sad'; Enescu heightens the effect through rhythmic ambiguity. Fauré again casts a shadow, but discernibly with an Enescuvian turn of phrase, thus bringing matters to a head before subsiding. The closing Vivace brings welcome humour to the proceedings; the strings are once again in unison whist the piano makes pointedly abrupt contributions to impart a Bachian feel momentarily. The middle section contrasts at length through its lyricism, before elements from both sections are woven together by way of conclusion.

The Piano Trio in A minor is one of three compositions he completed in 1916. Apparently written at speed within a month – the final movement is dated 22 March, when Enescu was in a Bucharest hospital – the work remains without an opus number. The opening Allegro Moderato’s notable feature is a real Enescu hallmark: marrying rhapsodic feeling within a tightly structured sonata form. The Allegretto con Variazioni, the last formal set of variations Enescu wrote, begins with less harmonically demanding writing that is closer in flavour to the piano suite. However much of the material given by the violin and cello is quite depressing, with the listeners invited to witness something akin to a Marche Funebre. In contrast to many other of his wartime works, here the emotional atmosphere of the times fully breaks through into Enescu’s writing. The closing Vivace amabile sees a return to the happier mood that imbues the opening movement in music that is replete with freshness and sparkle.

Both performances capture the requisite moods for the works. The performers play the music with such sweep and grandeur of ensemble that demonstrates it is fully within their fingers. Additionally, there is attention to individual lines and details: with Enescu the devil is always in the detailed myriad of markings and instructions that litter the score. The violinist Stefan Tarara, viola player Molly Carr, cellist Eun-Sung Hong and pianist Josu De Solaun all acquit themselves with honour. De Solaun’s experience with Enescu’s solo piano music – his cycle on the Grand Piano label is a good supplement to Luiza Borac’s recordings on Avie – pays dividends on the present recording too. Yes, good alternatives to this recording do exist, but if you have not heard these works before, why look any further? Useful if brief liner notes and demonstration quality sound round out this highly recommendable recording. Recordings like this are exactly what Enescu’s music needs (and requires) to bring it to the widest public, presented it in the best possible light. More from these artists, please.

CD Review: Maria Bach chamber music (Christine Busch, violin et al) cpo 555341-2

Maria Bach (1896–1978), was an Austrian pianist, violinist and composer, she was also active as a painter. Back then, growing up in an extremely artistic household near Vienna was the norm for anyone entering society. Brahms, Korngold, Nikisch, Klimt, Kokoschka were frequent visitors; Joseph Marx was her most important teacher at the Vienna Music Academy for piano and composition. Although, as the three works on this release demonstrate, her style bears comparison with Marx or Korngold as all three composers favoured a luxurious instrumental sound and harmonies that exploit this, Bach’s style is nonetheless wholly her own. Though the trio of works are all on the early side in terms of her oeuvre (cello sonata 1924; “Wolga” piano quintet 1928; string quintet 1936), nothing about them is slight. By the 1930s, Maria Bach was firmly established as a composer.

The cello sonata is the most straightforward of the three works on this release. It is carefully written, indeed at times perhaps too carefully: you can hear the mind working on how best to take it forward when more impetus might have lent the result a greater sense of the impromptu. That said, it nevertheless has a strong impact due to Bach's own harmonic language, which is never less than ear-catching. Mathias Johansen and Yukie Takao play the sonata for all it is worth.

The two other works demonstrate that Maria Bach appears to have had an affinity for the theme and variations form. This lies at the heart of both works, though the piano quintet is the more extrovert and richly textured of the pieces. The middle movement variations upon the Wolga lied lend the string quintet its nickname. However, it is the instrumental textures more than anything that I find absorbing in Maria Bach’s writing. Violinists Christine Busch and Elene Meipariani, viola player Klaus Christa and cellist Mathias Johansen are joined by cellist Conradin Brotbek to give the string quintet a committed reading. This is also evident in the piano quintet, for which the core four players are joined by Akiko Shiochi at the keyboard. The recorded sound, from different radio sessions in 2019 and 2020 is excellent, but the accompanying notes on Maria Bach and the three compositions fall short on detail. A pity, as for many this release could be their first encounter with this music.

It is interesting to note that another recording of Maria Bach’s chamber music was released almost simultaneously with this one. That recording, also features the cello sonata and the "Wolga" piano quintet, but with the solo cello sonata, on the Hänssler label.

CD Review: Nielsen & Sibelius violin concertos (John Dalene/RSPO/Storgårds) BIS-2620

John Dalene’s approach to recording violin concertos has paired both the well-known (Tchaikovsky) and the lesser played (Barber). To that are now added the Sibelius and Nielsen concertos. Both are fine works and they receive performances worthy of their stature. John Storgårds and the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra provide characterful accompaniment throughout.

The Nielsen is a rather unusual piece, written in two movements that are each preceded by slow introductions. Yet, for all that, Dalene makes a fine case for it: by turns he conjures a bashfully romantic tone, at others a more jovial one. Personally, I have always found Nielsen a composer rather difficult to ‘place’; just when one gets a feel for his approach, he dashes it all by throwing in something new without much care for stylistic integration. Dalene integrates where he can with the two cadenzas.

The Sibelius is of course much better known. On occasions, it can feel like something of a war horse to be ridden so that the soloist merely survives the experience. Witness the particularly persuasive reading of the slow movement, the passionate closing movement or the lengthy single cadenza, all of which set this apart from many another recording.

Both works have been paired together on disc before: Cho-Liang Lin on CBS is the primary contender. However, the superior sound and playing of the present release ensures that it wins out in head-to-head listening. This is another recording from the BIS stable that fully deserves the plaudits it has garnered from the international press.

CD Review: Germaine Tailleferre Piano works revived vol.1 (Nicolas Horvath, piano) Grand Piano 891

Germaine Tailleferre (1892-1983) is a composer ripe for rescuing from obscurity. With this first release in a new survey of her complete piano works the Monaco-born pianist Nicolas Horvath proves he is the man for the job.

Tailleferre, it would seem, possessed a rebellious streak. Against her father’s wishes, she insisted on a career in music. To that end, she rubbed shoulders in the 1920s with Milhaud and Poulenc as the only female member of the Montmartre-based collective Les Six. It is known that she wrote at the piano, hence, keyboard music is central to her output. Tailleferre’s compositional style, however, was far from fixed: it shifts from the neoclassical and tonal to bitonality, rhythmically disciplined to irregular and wilfully dissonant. Each of these aspects is heard across the fifty-five tracks of this packed release. Several works - many in their first recordings - are presented as groupings: Fleurs de France (written in 1930), Suite dans le style Louis XV and transcriptions of works by Scarlatti, Lully, Monteverdi, etc.

Horvath delights in it all, relishing the different aspects of this music. Unsurprisingly for a pianist with a penchant for a wide repertoire - his recordings of Erik Satie's music on the Grand Piano label are noteworthy - he plays it with both awareness and a sense of wonder. The release benefits from helpfully insightful liner notes and first class recorded sound. Further volumes in this series are keenly awaited. Might those volumes even extend to her concertos? There's one for a single piano and another, dating from 1934, for two pianos, chorus, four saxophones and orchestra. When, one wonders, would an orchestra be brave enough to programme such a work today?

CD Review: Visions (EnAccord string quartet) Etcetera KTC1691

Visions is the second recording made by the all-female Dutch EnAccord string quartet. It follows the format of their previous release by presenting a varied programme of ‘gems from the quartet literature’, as the albums subtitle terms it. That is no understatement either, as there are some rarely performed gems deserving of a wider audience included here. The repertoire varies from Purcell to Mendelssohn, Lekeu, Maddelena Sirmen and Elizabeth Maconchy. Selected movements of Prokofiev’s Visions Fugitives, sensitively arranged for string quartet by Sergei Samsonov, intersperse the other pieces to run through the recording as a spine of interludes that are quirky, humorous or ferocious in their turn. The mood of each is judged appositely by the quartet.

Several of the works recorded here present their composer’s viewpoints on writing for a string quartet within one or two movements. Purcell’s Chacony in G minor begins the recital, full voiced and aware of the intricacies of instrumental interplay at work; yet a sense of veiled melancholy is never far from the surface. Guillaume Lekeu’s single movement Meditation is the most extensive single movement work included here. Initially there are potential links with the ambiance of Purcell’s Chacony that might be inferred, however the EnAccord string quartet clearly love this music (as do I) and play Lekeu’s passionate outpouring for all it is worth. A shaping of line, a feeling for sonority and acknowledgement of emotion are all present in the playing. Elizabeth Maconchy’s third string quartet, written in a single movement of five linked sections, has been described as ‘a psychological thriller in which four instruments disagree heartily’. There is indeed something quite Hitchcockian to the way their characters are played off against one another or the tension is slowly ratcheted up throughout its duration. Most involving, and one suspects, as interesting to play as to listen to.

Venetian-born Maddelena Sirmen (1745-1818) wrote the second of her six string quartets in just two movements. The Andantino first movement is charming, refined and, like the Allegro which follows it, is written with considerable skill. The EnAccord players bring out the inner passions of the music and imbue it with a sense of light and shade that benefits it greatly, as does the players’ ability to layer individual instrumental lines to build beautiful sonorities. Felix Mendelssohn’s seventh string quartet, also in two movements, presents another take on a compacted quartet form. The theme and variations first movement is almost Schubertian in its artfulness, whilst the second movement recaptures the brilliance of Mendelssohn’s own youth.

The admirable EnAccord string quartet are captured in a recording that presents them in faultless sound: Ilka van der Plasa and Helena Druwé’s violins are bright yet never over-steely of tone, Rosalinde Kluck’s viola carries a hue of caramel richness, whilst Maike Reisener’s cello is warm and supportive of the quartet’s overall sound. The liner notes by Koen Uvin are serviceable yet not too extensive on each work. In short, this is an interesting programme by a young quartet intent on broadening the repertoire beyond the standard fare. They play it all with style and conviction, so this recording is very warmly recommended.

Looking to the future, the EnAccord quartet may wish to record further selections of bon-bons from the literature, but complete cycles of the Sirmen and Maconchy string quartets would be good to have. Whilst there are recorded cycles available, they are either in less-than-ideal recorded sound or are now hard to obtain.

CD Review: Rachmaninov Liturgy of St John Chrysostom (Estonian Chamber Choir) BIS2571

For Rachmaninov, the liturgy of the Russian Orthodox Church and the music associated with it had a deeply personal significance. He expressed this with a masterful command of vocal expression in his 1915 setting of the All Night Vigil Service, or Vespers, Op. 37. Less well known, and far less acknowledged for its beauty and importance, is a work from five years earlier, the Liturgy of St John Chrysostom, Op. 31. 

As Andrew Huth observes in his excellent accompanying liner notes, “It consists of a sequence of prayers, psalms and hymns, which are sung or chanted by various participants: the celebrants, choir and congregation. The language is not modern Russian but the form of Old Church Slavonic preserved to this day in Orthodox services.” He goes on to outline the unique path that Rachmaninov took in composing his acapella setting by using his own melodies. This was in opposition to the traditional practice of singing in unison or the approaches of predecessors including Tchaikovsky or Rimsky-Korsakov.

It is likely that Rachmaninov wrote the Liturgy for performance within a church service. Although written for four-part choir, the lower voices dominate the setting. At key moments though light is added through the soaring soprano lines. There is a richness to the performance by the excellent Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir under the direction of conductor Kaspars Putniņš. As a whole, the performance has great beauty, resulting from the carefully blended vocal lines. Individual movements stand out to illustrate both the quality of this recording and the primacy of the text. The Lord’s Prayer is captured within an apt sense of reverence, whilst The Prayer for Peace reflects the sense of tender reflection that infuses much of Rachmaninov’s writing. Raul Mikson’s nasal tenor tone is well suited to the role of the Celebrant and Olari Viikholm bass adds a touch of inky drama to the part of the Deacon. The recording, made in the Niguliste Church in Tallinn, captures the resonant acoustic and this adds much atmosphere to the listening experience.

CD Review: Enescu Violin Concerto, Phantasy for Piano and Orchestra (Carolin Widmann/Luiza Borac, NDR Philharmonie / Peter Ruzicka) cpo 555487

Update: Read my interview with Peter Ruzicka about Enescu's orchestral music (in English und auf Deutsche)

Just how important is the juvenilia of any creative artist or composer? The answer, I suppose, depends – to some extent at least – on three factors. The composer in question; whether the work(s) in question are substantial examples or not; does that juvenilia represent a significant moment in the composer’s development.

In the case of George Enescu, his international significance is beyond doubt. It is known that he thought enough of his own juvenilia to occasionally perform some of it in later life: he conducted at least one of the ‘school’ symphonies in Bucharest and illustrated other examples of his early writing from memory at the keyboard during his recorded interviews with the French music critic and organist Bernard Gavoty.

The two works on this release are the first two movements from an incomplete Violin Concerto, from 1895, and a single movement Phantasy for Piano and orchestra, written three years later.

The Violin Concerto could almost be thought of an extended concerto ‘school torso’, a kind of hybrid equivalent between the four ‘school’ symphonies and Enescu’s single movement ‘torso’ violin sonata, written in 1911. The concerto displays obvious debts to a Viennese late Romantic soundscape. You can feel Enescu’s ambition in it: the first movement is over 19 minutes in duration, the second movement approaches 14 minutes. Within the two movements, Enescu demonstrates both his knowledge of form and a surety of touch with the orchestral accompaniment, whether in terms of instrumental colour or the use of textures to add interest along the way. The first movement is constructed from three thematic ideas, all of which possess character. The slower second movement carries an airy ambiance, above which a refined violin line floats beguilingly before finding some gravitas in the writing. The real draw of the work, though, is the writing for the solo violin part, as one would hope for from a young composer whose instrumental talents were also burgeoning in parallel. There is passion, skill and virtuosic flair in the first movement’s primary theme in particular. Of course, mention should be made of the fact that the orchestration is not Enescu’s own, but is an elaboration of the reduced score that he left. Carolin Widmann, who has experience playing Enescu’s later sonatas, proves to be a most sensitive soloist. Her playing holds the attention with its pure tone and intelligent integration alongside the orchestral accompaniment, which, in turn is sensitively and tastefully handled under Peter Ruzicka’s direction. It is to Peter Ruzicka's credit that he, after recordings of Enescu's incomplete late symphonies, he has turned his attention to these early works. That commitment goes beyond his conducting, to being the driving force in collaborating with Pascal Bentoiu and others in realising the orchestral scores. One final thought is unavoidable: with the music fading out in a slow decrescendo what, one wonders, might have constituted a third movement?

The Phantasy for Piano and orchestra demonstrates just how far Enescu matured in three years. I feel that Volker Tarnow gets it exactly right in his excellent liner notes, when he claims “it combines expressivity à la Brahms with pianistic bravura à la Liszt.” This single movement work, without a solo cadenza, is more richly conceived in terms of its orchestration and assured in its structure. The solo part is varied, with a reliance on repeated chords at the start and at times throughout, but it moves to a conversational approach with the orchestra as well as the work proceeds. Bravura moments balance out the delicate introspection, in the end though, spirited writing comes to the fore. Luiza Borac is a pianist whose experience with Enescu’s music is beyond compare. She has strayed beyond the published repertoire too and recorded the unfinished Piano Concerto in D minor, composed by George Enescu in 1897. You can hear that experience bear fruit in the present performance with her assured touch, idiomatic knowledge and sense of flair. Again, you can hear how the orchestra and conductor respond to this by delivering performances that reward with their warmth and quality.

Given the excellent recording quality, I return to where I began. Juvenilia these works might be, but for anyone with an interest in Enescu’s music this is a recording worthy of serious attention.

CD Review: Romanian Flute Music (Krzysztof Kaczka, flute; Lilian Akopova, piano) Hanssler Classic HC21060

There are significant examples of compositions for the flute being written by Romanian composers. Years ago, I reviewed two CDs from the flautist Zdenek Bruderhans featuring solo music and a concerto by Anatol Vieru. There have also been notable releases of flute music by Doina Rotaru, who has written prolifically for the instrument. Artists such as Pierre-Yves Artaud and Mario Caroli have performed some of her five concertos (the fifth also employs an orchestra of instruments from the flute family), various solo and chamber music compositions on commercial and privately-made recordings.

This latest release from the Polish flautist Krzysztof Kaczka and Ukrainian pianist Lilian Akopova presents an overview survey of writing for the duo that is either influenced by Romanian musical forms or written by Romanian composers, several of whom are likely to be unknown to a wider audience. 

Let’s start with the two works I consider outliers to the main programme. Béla Bartók’s suite of six brief Romanian Folk Dances is music that has been arranged for many different instrumental combinations, and there is no reason why it should not work well for the flute/piano duo. The recording it is given here is bright and replete with rustic character.

George Enescu’s early first violin sonata, written within a week in 1897 when he was 16, is a work that belies the influences of Beethoven and Brahms whilst also showing a deep knowledge of fugal writing in the last two movements. As it is by far the most straight-forwardly written of Enescu’s three violin sonatas, the solo line transcribes reasonably well to the flute. Kaczka and Akopova give it a committed performance; indeed, perhaps due to the re-instrumentation I listened to the work afresh and enjoyed the rich veins of melody that are explored within it. If there’s something that occasionally I felt was missing, it is the variations of tone and intonation, which so carefully marked by Enescu in the score. These are, of course, easier to achieve on the violin than the flute, but Kaczka tries to find an equivalence to this through variations of breath and attack.

On to the works written for the flute/piano duo. Enescu’s Cantabile et Presto, written in 1904, as a flute competition piece for the Paris Conservatoire is atmospherically performed. Indeed, there is a good sense of the relationship between the parts captured in the performance, with, as elsewhere, the flute slightly forward of the piano in a natural acoustic.

Petre Elinescu (1869-1947) was a flautist as well as a prolific composer. His Pastoral Scene of Romania is a connected group of five contrasting dances. Based on the original version for small string ensemble, the version for flute and piano was written in 1898. Elinescu’s writing is tunefully sonorous, wholly tonal and melodic. It could almost be a companion work to Béla Bartók’s Romanian Folk Dances. The piano part at times wilfully echoes the sound of a cimbolom. Elinescu is also represented by his Introduction et Danse des Sorcières, written in 1902. The Introduction possesses a certain languidity, whilst the Danse not only picks up the tempo but beguiles with its flights of fancy.

The modern school of Romanian flute writing is represented by Vasile Jianu (1904-1968). His Prelude and Rigaudon sees a certain rusticity of expression followed by an updated take on a seventeen century dance form. This unique conception is easily and engagingly realised in the recording. Doina Rotaru’s Elegie for Flute and Piano, from 2011, takes me almost to where I began this review. This is by far the most complex and challenging work on the recording from a technical viewpoint, as Rotaru habitually merges old musical forms through modern techniques. When I met and interviewed her in 2010, she talked at length about how this could stretch a performer’s musicianship and knowledge of self, whilst testing technical ability. This comes across as being one of the most compelling performances on the recording.

Lilian Akopova’s piano playing is first rate; I certainly hope to encounter her on disc again before long. The recording quality is faithful and resonant. The accompanying booklet notes are succinct, but more detail could well be helpful to prospective purchasers.
Whilst of niche interest perhaps, to either flautists, lovers of flute music or those wanting to explore lesser-heard composers, this disc can be recommended. There is other repertoire that might have been included, such as Marcel Milhalovici’s Miroir des Songes, Op.112, Myriam Marbe's Haykus (1994) or Rotaru's Crystals. 

One point to note, my review download lacked both the last movement of Bartók’s Romanian Folk Dances and the Presto from Enescu’s Cantabile et Presto. Perhaps an oversight, but it is a shame nevertheless.

CD Review: Hermann Levi Der letzte Gruss (René Perler, bass-baritone; Edward Rushton, piano) Prospero PROSP018

I have long been interested in the output of performing musicians who also composed. Think of Wilhelm Furtwängler’s symphonies and violin sonatas, or the string quartets and songs by Otto Klemperer and Artur Schnabel. Given the quality of the writing, is not always right to dismiss these works and file them under the label of ‘Kapellmeister music’.

The case of Hermann Levi is an interesting one. Although remembered for his association with Richard Wagner and as the conductor of Parsifal’s first performance at Bayreuth in 1882, in his youth he too composed music in earnest. His output is not vast; it includes a violin sonata and piano concerto as well as a clutch of songs.

Ten of the songs receive their first recordings on the present release. They reveal Levi as a composer with a fine sense of melodic line, to which he sets his chosen lyrics, which is matched in the piano accompaniments that are of a richly Romantic heritage. A couple of the songs contain nods towards the Nibelungen – a foreshadowing of the Wagnerian association to come, perhaps.  Whilst Wagner sought to exploit the boundaries of tonality, resolution and expression, Levi never approached these boundaries.

René Perler’s bass-baritone voice captures the mood of the sorrowful songs effortlessly. The briefer instances of light and humour do not escape him either. His skills as a lieder singer and exponent of lyrical poetry are used to good effect also in the selected songs by Brahms, Schumann and Herzogenberg which usefully provide some context for the Levi songs. Just occasionally does one wish that Perler varied his timbre on repeated words or phrases, as he has a tendancy towards vibratoless expression.

Perler’s accompanist, playing Wagner’s own Steinway concert grand, is Edward Rushton. He provides excellent and discretely stylish yet pointed support throughout. The tone of the instrument suits the repertoire: it is warm and characterful in the lower to mid registers and brightly penetrating in its upper reaches. The recording, made by Swiss Radio during August 2020 in the Salon at Villa Wahnfried, is quite the best I have heard made in the Villa; it presents both pianist’s instrument and singer with admirable clarity in a natural acoustic. The notes about Levi and Wagner’s piano in the opulently illustrated booklet are interesting, the texts and translations are useful additions.

Two slight quibbles spoil what would have been a positive recommendation on all fronts. First, it is a pity that Perler’s notes on Levi’s compositions are provided in French only. Second, the inclusion of four songs by Henri Duparc seems a touch odd, as these are the only non-German language items. Perhaps the intention was to have them as an example of French song writing around the time of Hermann Levi’s compositions. However, as they are placed last on the track list rather than within the programme, they sound something of an afterthought. It might have been better by far to use the time they consume to present a recording of Wagner’s Wesendonck-Lieder in their place. Given that recordings of the Wagner cycle by a bass-baritone are few, the recording location, the piano used and the working association between Wagner and Levi, surely that’s an opportunity missed. However, that said, this recording can be strongly recommended to all adventurous lovers of lieder.

CD Review: Enescu String Quartets (Quatour Athenaeum Enesco) cpo 999068

In my 2005 survey of the available recordings of Enescu’s compositions for Musicweb International, I wrote about the string quartets:

“Enescu’s two essays in the [string] quartet format show, as elsewhere in his output, a tightening of thematic materials and compactness of structure from the earlier work to the later one.

An obvious candidate for pairing on disc, there are so far three main versions in contention: the Voces Quartet (Electrecord or Olympia OCD 413 - if you can track them down), Quatuor Athenaeum Enesco (cpo 999 0682) and the Quatuor Ad Libitum (Naxos 8.554721). All three are celebrated ensembles in Romania and each brings experience to their recording of the works. But as often is the case Naxos’s issue will be a clear winner – they play this music as if it were the greatest music ever for a quartet, with total conviction, commitment and love. In a recording that gives each plenty of bloom against the somewhat boxy Electrecord or recessed acoustic of cpo’s release, there seems little argument to answer.”

The cpo release under consideration here is a re-issue of the recording by the Quatuor Athenaeum Enesco. The recording was made by Swiss Radio in May 1992, and re-listening to it after some time from a digital download I stand by my earlier comments about the recorded acoustic. That is a shame, as by and large, both works are given sympathetic interpretations. If I do not find the readings quite capture the white heat and zeal of the Ad Libitum Quartet on Naxos, this does not do particular disservice to the Athenaeum Quartet’s players. I find their realisation of the first quartet's slower movement rather beautifully phrased, actually. Considering that the indications of 'moderato' and 'pensieroso' are so important within three movements there are some finely judged touches of tempo and instrumental colour.

There have been a couple of other recordings of the second quartet that have appeared since I wrote my original review. It is a slight surprise though that no string quartets of substance have risen to the demands of the earlier work, It is surely a jewel in the entire string quartet repertoire, to stand alongside anything by Beethoven or Schubert.

A worthy effort, which would be more recommendable, if it were not for the availability of stronger competition captured in a more favourable acoustic. 

CD Review: Sibelius works for violin and piano (Fenella Humphreys, violin; Joseph Tong, piano) Resonus RES10294

It was perhaps inevitable that Resonus Classics would follow up Fenella Humphreys’ recording of the Sibelius violin concerto – released last year on RES10277 – with a disc of the composer’s works for violin and piano. With that earlier recording, Humphreys staked a claim to be a Sibelius violinist of the first rank; this latest release reinforces that reputation.

Listening to the recording as a whole, what really impresses is not just the tonal quality of Humphreys’ playing, which is finely focussed, but also how her duo partner Joseph Tong varies his approach from the earlier works that have a certain precision to the later ones, which have a greater sense of romantic flair.

Sibelius might have harboured ambitions to be a concert violinist that were never truly realised, but what he left the world instead included the delightful duo miniatures included here, the violin concerto (of course) and a lovely late suite for violin and small ensemble, which deserves to be better known. Throughout all these, he penned works that possess the stylish sense of line and ambiance that was his own particular preserve. There’s nothing wrong with the melodies, be they spun with delightful artfulness in the ‘Religioso’, Op. 78 No. 3 or the urbane rusticity of Danses champêtres Op. 106.  There is much else to enjoy, too, in the piano writing – nowhere more so than in the tolling bells of ‘Die Glocken’, Op. 115 No. 4.

How do Humphreys and Tong compare to the competition? The short answer is admirably well. Their recording is more focussed and clearer than that of Kaija Saarikettu (violin) and Hui-Ying Liu (piano) on the Finlandia label. I find their recording is more resonant in terms of acoustic and more Romantically rich in timbre to really show Sibelius off in his best light. Better by far to turn to the latest recording by Fenella Humphreys and Joseph Tong. It is a recording that will repay repeated listening. Useful liner notes accompany the release.

CD Review: Maija Einfelde Violin sonatas (Magdalēna Geka, violin; Iveta Calite, piano) Skani 129

If art does not always imitate life, it can certainly echo it. For a case in point, then look no further than the Latvian composer Maija Einfelde (born 1939). As the liner notes to this release make clear, Einfelde has endured a complicated and rather winding path to the widespread acceptance of her compositions. A difficult childhood often away from her parents, then not seeing eye-to-eye with her professor at the Latvian Conservatory of Music, followed by disputes with the Composers’ Union during the Soviet years when they did pretty much everything they could to thwart her creative spirit are just three instances of obstacles that had to be overcome.

In the Latvian context, Einfelde’s three sonatas for violin and piano, plus a further sonata for solo violin, constitute an important contribution to the genre. Listening to this recording from beginning to end, a repeating characteristic jumps out – in a word, it is edginess. That is not to say that it present in every movement – if that was the case the music would risk being just one oppressive page after another, which is not the case at all. But edge is definitely central to Einfelde’s idiom, and to go back to where I began, perhaps that’s only to be expected.

The first sonata, from 1980, is in four brief contrasting movements. The first is free-flowing yet has that edge in her use of harmonics, the second is more emphatic, the third is stuck in stasis and the fourth has a yearning character.

The second sonata, written in 1985, condenses the form to three movements. The opening movement starts with dramatic flourish before it looks inwards and becomes more pensive. The middle movement is a somewhat unexpected Minuet, scored with delicacy and consummate technical knowledge. The closing movement initially appears to be a piano solo, but once the violin joins proceedings the music proceeds with amiability.  This might have captured – one conjectures – a moment of rare peace for the composer.

The third sonata, from 1990 in two movements, brings forth that edginess again. This time, it takes a different form. The first movement, played as slowly as possible, creeps inexorably to a heated pitch that excites and disturbs in equal measure. The second movement contrasts, thankfully, with a more peaceful aspect.

The solo sonata, from 1997, has Bartok’s Second Violin Sonata as its model, as Einfelde held it to be an ‘ideal’. Of the three movements the middle one is the most demanding for both player and listener – at times one might think the violinist is playing razor wire rather than strings, such is its all-encompassing forcefulness. This goes some way beyond mere edginess.

The violinist Magdalēna Geka and pianist Iveta Cālīte prove fully up to the demands of this music, both technically and in terms of its spirit. The recording is first rate, proving that Latvian music is in safe hands with the Skani label. Bring on further releases, and soon, as many treasures of the Latvian repertoire deserve a wider audience.

CD Review: Scenes from the Kalevala (Lahti SO / Dima Slobodeniouk) BIS2371

Finland’s national identity owes an enormous debt to the Kalevala, an epic poem first printed in 1835. Its influence was to bear fruit particularly in the music of Jean Sibelius; indeed, can you imagine Sibelius’ oeuvre without it? Probably not, if you’re being really honest.

It is no surprise then that a recording of four works by four composers drawing influence from the Kalevala should feature Sibelius. However, his Lemminkäinen in Tuonela is programmed third and not in it is not as you may know it, as the original 1897 version receives its first recording. Herein BIS plugs a hole as this version was omitted from their must-have 13 disc Sibelius edition.  Sibelius’ first thoughts are revealed as more expansive than his later revisions and perhaps occasionally he loses focus. Critics were scornful at the time, but the work is by no means a total dud. In reducing down the music to its essence in his later revisions, Sibelius gave it heft. Listening to the excellent Lahti Symphony Orchestra under Dima Slobodeniouk’s baton I sporadically feel the weightiness ever-so-slightly lacking too.

The three other composers recorded here are most likely not household names, well, not outside Finland at any rate, and more’s the pity. Leevi Madetoja (1887-1947) wrote his tone poem Kullervo in 1913, and drew on aspects on the Kalevala that inspired Sibelius’ work of the same name. That said, as Kimmo Korhonen makes clear in his excellent liner notes, Madetoja sought to differentiate his dramatic work from those of his compatriots. There are other recordings available – I have not heard them – but in listening to Dima Slobodeniouk’s reading, I particularly enjoy the way he draws out the individual instrumental lines in the orchestration. BIS’ demonstration quality recording aids matters no end. Uuno Klami (1900-1961) penned his five movement Kalevala Suite in 1943. Written with the express aim of putting clear water between himself and Sibelius; its starting point is nearer Stravinsky’s The Firebird and The Rite of Spring. That said, imagine it as a watercolour rather than a full-blooded oil painting in The Creation of the World movement. There’s variety in the moods too: the delicate and shaded Cradle Song for Lemminkäinen provides contrast amongst the movements that are not always of a consistent inspirational level. Tauno Pylkkänen’s ten-minute Kullervo Goes to War (1942) is an orchestral tour-de-force from a 24-year old composer who fully realises the drama of his subject. Dima Slobodeniouk and his Lahti forces revel in the power and passion to turn in a fully persuasive and enjoyable reading.

CD Review: George Walker Piano sonatas (Steven Beck, piano) Bridge 9554

George Walker (1922-2018) was, by any measure, a composer of stature. For that reason, I believe his music should not just be heard as being notable amongst that of his American compatriots, as the work of an African American (though that is often the reason many now giving it the time of day), or because Walker was the first black composer to receive a Pulitzer Prize in Music. Throughout his life Walker was commissioned by many prestigious ensembles and conductors to write for them. He was also a pianist of note – he studied under Rudolf Serkin no less – and some valuable archive recordings exist that reveal his significant talents. Anyone new to Walker’s music could do worse than to discover it through his five stylistically eclectic piano sonatas. Amazingly, the present release is the first recording of Walker’s piano sonata output – better now than never.

The five works are each individually rather brief, yet bold statements are made within them. The longest, No. 1 (1953) in three movements, is a shade under 14’30”; the shortest, No.5 (2003) in a single movement is under 5’ duration. The first two sonatas showcase Walker’s affection for employing a theme and variations model for one movement within a conventionally structured three or four-movement sonata. Along the way, there is strong writing mixed with that of gossamer delicacy. Walker recorded his first two sonatas, but the recordings are occasionally somewhat matter-of-fact; Steven Beck is rather more pliant, which suits the music well. As with most things though, it’s a matter of give and take – Walker finds more gravity in the second sonata’s fourth movement. By the sonata No. 3 (1975), Walker’s idiom had turned to freely expressed atonality – listen to how a bell tolls some 17 times in the middle movement to recapture a memory of hearing the bell in a distant Italian campanile. The sonata No. 4 (1984) is perhaps the only place you get an overt notice that this music by a black composer, with the oblique quotation of “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child” in its second movement. The sonata No.5 is reduced in form, but bears melodies of grandeur with consummate artfulness.

Pianist Steven Beck is as good a guide to George Walker’s sonatas as one could hope for; his playing possesses sensitivity of touch that illuminates the merest snatch of a phrase or differentiates the interplay between each hand, a questing sense of discovery and a keen awareness of structure. In no small part is Beck aided by the warm tone of his Steinway grand, which is faithfully recorded. As if one needs it, Ethan Iverson’s brief accompanying notes make a further heartfelt case for Walker’s music. A greater analysis of the intricacies of the structure within and influences upon the five sonatas would have been welcome in place of the thumbnail sketches that – for now – will have to suffice. That aside, the music is where it is really at. Do investigate!

CD Review: Ukrainian Piano Quintets (Bogdana Pivnenko. violin, etc) Naxos 8.579098

Ukrainian composers have gradually been achieving wider international recognition through several notable recordings in recent years, several on the Naxos label. Two composers who have fared particularly well in this regard are Boris Mikolayovich Lyatoshynsky and Valentin Silvestrov.

Boris Lyatoshynsky (1895–1968) is often considered the father of Ukrainian music. That said, he often found influences in western composers and forms that were brought to bear on his writing. The Ukrainian Quintet, dating from 1942, is certainly expansive at over forty minutes’ duration, but it is also an extrovert and emotional one. There is a sombre intensity to the first movement that is realised through an uncompromising approach in the instrumentalists’ playing. Sensitivity is not the primary quality here, but it is more evident in the second movement. Forming the heart of the piece, the writing affords each of the musicians to shine individually. The violins of Bogdana Pivnenko and Taras Yaropud are bright and incisive, Kateryna Suprun’s viola provides warmth in the mid-range, whilst Yurii Pogoretskyi’s cello grounds the strings and provides much character. Iryna Starodub’s pianism is superbly musical and partners the strings with unassuming confidence. Much of the last two movements consist of writing that has a direct, even confrontational character. The third movement scurries along in trenchantly hushed tones before turning more towards dance-like forms. The various instrumental dialogues that make up the final movement are uncompromising scored, yet they are realised with a sense of atmosphere from the players that leaves one in no doubt that this is music of deep personal meaning which has been lived with for many years.

Valentin Silvestrov (born 1937) dedicated his Piano Quintet, written in 1961, to Boris Lyatoshynsky. Written at a time when Silvestrov was starting to pursue a modernist path in reaction to the Socialist realism imposed upon Ukrainian composition in the period of Stalinist occupation, it is a work that is at once powerful yet restrained. The opening movement, Prelude, is sombre and if not a little ironic in outlook. The second movement Fugue is an impetuous allegro that is initially carried along by the piano whilst the strings weave lines of contrast around and alongside it. The finale has a somewhat elusive character, with its music pared back to the extreme: solo violin and cello parts dominate, albeit in their restraint, alongside the brooding piano.

Victoria Poleva (born 1962) has written in a style called ‘sacred minimalism’ since the late 1990s. Her Simurgh-quintet, written in 2000 and revised in 2020, has a three movements-in-one structure. Her piano quintet provides a significant contrast to much of the music in the other two works on this recording. Of its compact form of 17’45”, the first 12’55” is a mysterious sequence of string textures played at a mezzo-piano or piano dynamic marking laid over minimal chords and repeated notes on the piano. The effect is somewhat meditative with its sense of calm introspection. The middle section coalesces around a growing sense of dynamic intensity that builds inexorably towards an emotional climax, after which the dynamic recedes into a manner that echoes the quintet’s opening. There are qualities in the execution of this recording that make this an immediately impressive listening experience. Listen to the precision with which the sonorities are unobtrusively blended between the individual string parts and in combination with the piano. Or the delight with which tonalities shift and merge with the glissandi, which are playfully realised.

The recording quality of this Naxos release is excellent, faithful and atmospheric. Richard Whitehouse’s introductory liner notes are up to his customary high standard. If you are looking for some interesting chamber repertoire off the beaten track in superbly played performances at a great price, then look no further.

CD Review: Callaerts / Ryelandt piano trios (Ryelandt Trio) Etcetera KTC1730

There are several notable Belgian piano trios in the repertoire, such as those by César Franck, written in the early to mid-nineteenth century, and those by Joseph Jongen and Guillaume Lekeu, written in the closing decade of the century. The single piano trio by Joseph Callaerts (1838-1901) dates from 1892, whilst the two works for the genre by Joseph Ryelandt (1870-1965) are from 1915 and 1944.

Joseph Callaerts’ was for much of his working life the organist at the cathedral in Antwerp, the city of his birth. Unsurprising, organ compositions form the bulk of his output, alongside some piano and chamber pieces. The piano trio was awarded a prize by the Belgian Royal Academy, but after some popularity fell from public view after the composer’s death. This world premiere recording of the work finally brings it to modern audience. What an imposing piece it is, too.  Cast in four movements, each around five minutes’ duration, it is very much in the late Romantic mould. The opening movement begins with a smouldering intent of the intricately written pages that flow from the initial thematic ideas. The second movement lives up to its cantabile marking, as it proves to be a lyrical outpouring of some delicacy. The third movement scherzo is in a somewhat jocular vein, whilst tensions are brought to a head in the energetic finale. I find the Ryelandt Trio’s performance a totally compelling one. Their use of period instruments achieves a textural blend that is most beguiling in the second and third movements. Pieter-Jan Verhoyen’s playing of the 1898 Erard concert grand anchors the entire performance, whilst the glowing tone of Pieter-Jan De Smet’s 1725 Ambroise de Combie cello provides unobtrusive warmth against the elegant tone of Jeroen De Beer’s 1805 Pique violin.

Joseph Ryelandt’s two trios date from 1915 and 1944 respectively. The first trio, written during his confinement to Bruges during the First World War, has two movements, but each is substantial. The opening Allegro con moto movement has a nervous character initially, from which more passionate emotions emerge at length. It is in these later passages that the trio really takes flight, but the players of the Ryelandt Trio are evidentially masters at sustaining a musical argument convincingly throughout its many ebbs and flows. The second movement Andante embodies the ambiance of profound romance, delightfully played by violin and piano before the cello enters and a set of variations ensue.

Ryelandt’s second trio is more conventionally written in three movements. The opening movement, a rolling Allegro, shows a comfort with the trio form that perhaps was occasionally missing from Ryelandt’s first trio. The middle movement Largo is the heart of the piece and it very much wears its heart on its sleeve: the Trio bring out the contrasting emotions with winning candour and ease of expression in their fluent phrasing. The forthright final movement concludes the trio in relatively short order, yet with a careful ear for sonority throughout.

Ryelandt’s slender three-minute Canon en Trio, op.70, written for his eldest three children in 1918, is presented almost as a coda to the three major works on this recording. Not musically challenging, the simplicity of the interwoven lines in this gentle Andante movement draws this release to a comforting conclusion.

The recording is admirably clear with a sense of space around the instruments, which allows the individual sonorities to blend beautifully. The liner note by David Vergauwen usefully sets the scene regarding both composers and the works performed, however the lack of a structural analysis of Ryelandt’s second trio – only a brief performance history is given – might be something of an omission when a structural overview is provided for the other pieces.

Following listening to this release, I am tempted to explore Ryelandt’s instrumental writing further – another Etcetera label release featuring the Terra Nova Collective or a volume on Toccata Classics featuring the De la Haye Ensemble would seem good places to start, particularly as they do not duplicate the recorded repertoire. For now, though, the present release of piano trios proves more than worthy of repeated listening.

CD Review: Mirrors (Jeanine De Bique, soprano; Concerto Köln / Luca Quintavalle) Berlin Classics 0302017BC

The Trinidadian soprano Jeanine De Bique has in recent years been making quite a name for herself, garnering appreciation in the international music press. Her slender discography to date indicates but a fraction of her eclectic repertoire – Rameau’s Platée, Handel’s Rodelinda (title role) and Mahler’s Symphony no 8. The present recording is De Bique’s first solo release and comprises of opera arias from the baroque period. Yannis François, musicologist and concept creator for the album explains: “The listeners can experience different reflections of the same character as if they were looking at themselves through a broken mirror.” The arias tell of key moments in the psychological development of the protagonists, illuminate the diversity of the female experience and the relatable perspectives of their lives.

Thus, there are portraits of Cleopatra from Handel’s eponymous opera and Carl Heinrich Graun’s Cesare e Cleopatra, from 1742. Agrippina appears in Handel’s opera of 1709 and Georg Philipp Telemann’s lesser-known Germanicus of five years earlier. Rodelinda, from Handel’s 1725 opera of the same name, is contrasted with that of Graun’s eponymous opera from 1741. Alcina, from Handel’s 1728 opera, has a counterpart in the character of Morgana in Riccardo Broschi’s neglected L’Isola D’Alcina from 1735. Deidamia in Handel’s under-rated eponymous 1741 opera is paired with the forgotten 1745 opera Achille in Sciro by Gennaro Manna. Overtures to the opera Partenope by Handel and Leonardo Vinci provide interludes at junctures in this interesting programme.

Many exponents of baroque opera fall down in my experience often fall down on two counts: their enunciation of the text and ability to maintain the desired emotion convincingly throughout the aria. Not so, with Jeanine De Bique. On the evidence of this recording, she’s a singer equally at home in faster, more dramatic repertoire (Handel's 'L'alma mia fra le tempeste' from Agrippina), where her voice flashes with rapier accuracy, as the more contemplative arias (Handel’s ‘Se pietà di me non senti’ from Giulio Cesare), which find her gleaming tones lingering seductively on every note. There’s more though, and it is best summed up in the word feeling. In Jeanine De Bique’s assumptions, these are not dry renditions, but characters inhabited, lived and brought to life through the arias.

The Concerto Köln under Luca Quintavalle’s direction provide appositely discrete yet characterful accompaniment. The recording is first rate, the three booklet notes on the recording concept are informative and the texts and translations are available via a QR code.

If you feel in need of a New Year’s gift – and who does not after the past years – Jeanine De Bique stylish and up-to-date take on the baroque is sure to brighten your life for some time to come.