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. 

CD Review: Brahms Complete Songs vol.1 (Christoph Prégardien, tenor; Ulrich Eisenlohr, piano) Naxos 8.574268

It is impossible to imagine the German lied without the contribution of Johannes Brahms. That said, in the concert hall one encounters only a narrow selection of his 204 individual songs on a regular basis. The adventurous listener who desires to gain a more complete impression of Brahms’ output might be well advised to explore this absorbing repertoire through recordings. To date, two complete sets have been issued. cpo’s 11-volume set has Helmut Deutsch as the accompanist to Iris Vermillion, Juliane Banse and Andreas Schmidt. Hyperion’s 10-volume set, each with a different singer, finds Graham Johnson at the piano. Oftentimes, Hyperion’s set presents individual songs by more than one singer to shape the recital narrative of each release. The individual volumes of both sets were well received by the music press when originally issued. Both are well recorded and continue to offer much pleasure. Against this backdrop, Naxos have embarked upon their own complete Brahms songs set. Volume 1 launches the project in admirable fashion.

The driving force behind Naxos’ series is the pianist Ulrich Eisenlohr; his previous recordings for the label include the complete lieder of Mozart and Schubert, as well as volumes of Schumann and Busoni lieder. Eisenlohr also contributes concise yet informative booklet notes. Following Naxos’ practice, texts and translations are available via their website.

This volume includes the songs of four opus numbers, written across almost 25 years. As Eisenlohr’s notes points out, the songs were often gathered together by Brahms some time after composition. The common thread is in themes that the songs explore: love, loneliness, solitude and a farewell to life.

Several of the songs in this volume suggest natural affiliations to a female voice, given the lyrics that are sung. Both the cpo and Hyperion sets reflect this in their programming, though whilst cpo group the songs under opus number as Naxos have done, Hyperion often distribute individual songs from one opus across multiple volumes of their set. The nine Lieder und Gesange, op.32, explore aspects of love in combination with the downcast emotions of his selected poet, the wonderfully named August von Platen-Hallemunde. The four songs, op.43, tell of relationships to be saved and lamented. The six songs, op.86, chart a gradual journey towards death. The five songs, op.105, have a varied emotional range.

It says much, however, for Christoph Prégardien’s skills as a lieder singer – honed through a distinguished international career – that he savours the words with intelligence. In so doing, he almost turns them into his own narrative, often utilising the subtlest emphasis of breath, timbre or shading. There is absolute security of pitch throughout and his tone possesses both gravity in the lower range and a lightness that belies his years in the upper range, to convincingly realise these interpretations and almost entirely banish thoughts of female singers in this repertoire. Prégardien’s instincts are matched at every turn by Eisenlohr’s, whose pianism possesses a depth and sonority that is entirely appropriate to realising Brahms’ intentions.

The recording, made for South West German Radio, places the voice naturally against the piano, and is of excellent quality. I eagerly await the future volumes of this series, but until they arrive, I shall continue to enjoy the discoveries that are to be made in this one. Most highly recommended!

CD Review: Enescu complete music for cello and piano (Rudolf Leopold, cello; Raluca Stirbat, piano) Paladino Music PMR0104

There are several fine recordings available of the individual works that constitute Enescu’s oeuvre for cello and piano. Only one rival set to this release by pianist Raluca Stirbat and cellist Rudolf Leopold includes the two cello sonatas, the Nocturne et Saltarello (1897) and an F minor Allegro (c. 1898). The last two listed works are juvenilia, written around the time of the first cello sonata, are perhaps only of interest to those that want to collect everything that Enescu wrote.

Enescu was well known as a pianist; he often appeared in concert in this role and he always taught his violin pupils from the keyboard. It is also known that he played the cello on an amateur basis, occasionally taking up the instrument for chamber performances within salon concert gatherings.

A quick examination of the times taken by various cellists for the individual movements reveals the wide variety of tempi that have adopted:

Cellist	Leopold	Radutiu	Spanoghe	Buruiana	Zank	Ilea	Dmitriev	Aneculaesci
S1 M1	12.15	12.42	11.34	12.51	12.09	12.54	11.39	14.41
S1 M2	6.57	7.04	6.53	8.30	7.02	6.42	6.52	7.46
S1 M3	9.01	10.45	9.53	10.33	10.32	11.36	10.15	11.03
S1 M4	5.59	6.12	6.00	6.59	6.24	6.50	6.35	7.00
S2 M1	9.25	13.07	9.43	10.08	9.58	12.09	10.42	12.52
S2 M2	5.54	5.57	6.07	6.02	5.40	7.48	5.47	7.02
S2 M3	5.58	8.23	5.57	6.33	5.49	7.22	7.43	7.57
S2 M4	6.33	6.18	6.58	6.36	6.05	7.13	7.24	7.27
Nocturne	3.42	4.29	3.47	-	-	-	-	-
Saltarello	2.55	3.05	2.55	-	-	-	-	-
Allegro	9.45	9.48	-	9.06	-	-	-	-

On the whole, Leopold and Stirbat are on the faster side throughout. Whilst this might suit the faster movements, I feel the slower tempo markings are not well served by this approach. For this reason, I am inclined overall towards the complete recording by Valentin Radutiu (Hänssler) from an interpretive viewpoint.

The imprint of the Romanian-born pianist Raluca Stirbat is all over this latest release. Not only as one half of the duo, but she is the author of the two booklet essays illustrated by photographs from her collection. Furthermore, it was at her instigation that Leopold concludes the early Allegro movement with a variation upon a song that Enescu wrote around the same time. Given that all the works included here except the late second sonata date from Enescu’s time in Vienna, as Stirbat’s essays make clear, it is appropriate that her chosen piano possesses a Brahmsian glow, as Enescu knew Brahms there in his youth. Rudolf Leopold’s tone is warm, his glissandi occasionally a touch too cautious to maintain the sense of spontaneity that Enescu’s writing often calls for to leap convincingly from the page.

In reviewing the release by Viviane Spanoghe and André de Groote (now available on the Etcetera label), I wrote:

“Listening to the Nocturne you can hear some of Enescu’s mature musical approaches in the early stages of their development. Richly lyrical, this is music that has distinct influences left by the French compositional school – he studied under Massenet and knew Fauré, Ravel amongst others – yet a youthful love of Brahms also seems not too distant from his mind. The Saltarello is made to contrast well in the playing of de Groote and Spanoghe: they pick up the tempo and invest it with much bite and attack. Although folk elements may be evident in the writing, they are of Enescu’s making rather than from authentic sources, and he utilizes them with a deftly cultured touch.” 

De Groote’s touch is more flexible and characterful than Stirbat’s in the sonatas too, as is Donald Sulzen’s partnering Gerhard Zank (Arte Nova). Sulzen’s piano is also superbly recorded.

Laura Buruiana’s Enescu recordings are found on two separate labels with two different pianists – the sonatas with Martin Tchiba on Naxos, the Allegro with Alexandra Silocea on Avie. Whilst these recordings are fine in themselves, there are cellists of greater subtlety to be enjoyed - Valentin Radutiu perhaps heads this list.

All in all, although this superbly recorded release presents the complete Enescu oeuvre for cello and piano on a single disc, this is a recording that has a place in a quite crowded field, rather than at the head of it.

CD Review: Enescu / Mussorgsky / Borodin (Alexander Krichel, piano) Berlin Classics 0302072BC

The combination of piano works by Enescu and Mussorgsky is a new one on record, though both works included here have been recorded several times before. Therefore, this recording by Hamburg-born artist Alexander Krichel faces stiff competition from the start.

Enescu’s Second Piano Suite was written in 1903 and consists of four movements. Given Enescu’s love of J. S. Bach’s music it is unsurprising that he followed the Baroque model of a dance sequence – a majestic Toccata, a noble Sarabande, a slow Pavane and a lively Bourrée.

Even though it is missing the opening Toccata and is captured in less-than-ideal sound, fans of Dinu Lipatti may still want to track town this historic recording of the suite. Lipatti’s compatriot, Aurora Ienei, recorded the suite in 1981 for the Romanian Electrecord label (it was licenced to the Olympia label and second-hand copies can be occasionally tracked down. Although Ienei’s touch is sure, the boxy acoustic does little to enhance her piano’s sound. Luiza Borac’s 2003 recording for Avie was hailed as ground-breaking at the time and followed extensive research into the autograph scores of Enescu’s piano oeuvre. This led to many errors in the printed versions being corrected; the recording very much continues to stand the test of time. Matei Varga turned in a more than creditable recording for Naxos. Christopher Falzone’s recording for the Sisyphe label rather flew under the radar and is intent on sounding more like Bach than anything else. Heard alongside the best of these alternatives (Borac and Varga), Krichel’s recording sounds somewhat cool and detached, even though it is technically very well played indeed.

Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition might be the more famous of the two works on this release, for many that might be a draw. The work might be better known in orchestral incarnations – most often Ravel’s – but the piano original is worthy of exploration. Mikhail Pletnev (Virgin Classics) gets to the heart of the work with insightful characterisation of the Promenade across its several incarnations. Krichel’s performance, although interesting, finds less variety in this connective tissue that runs through the work. Where Krichel does score though is in a few of the individual tableaux that form the exhibition. The missing element, though, is the same one missing from his Enescu: feeling for the music. With that there might be more palpable weight and Russianness in his overall conception.

The slender two minute Nocturne from Borodin’s Petite suite provides an addendum that rounds out the recording in a pleasant manner.

The recording captures the piano faithfully. The interview with Krichel, though, is maybe rather more questionable. When all is considered though, this is a recording that, although possessing positives, does not quite lead the field in this repertoire.

CD Review: Wolfrum - Ein Weihnachtsmysterium (Stefan Vanselow, conductor) Christophorus CHR77458

Philipp Wolfrum is today an all but forgotten figure in the history of music. However, in his lifetime (1854-1919) he was revered as a composer, conductor, choirmaster, organist and Director of Music at the University of Heidelberg. His magnum opus is the oratorio Ein Weihnachtsmysterium, ‘A Christmas Mystery’, written in 1898.

No less a composer than Richard Strauss accurately summarised the oratorio as possessing “Bachian skill unified with Lisztian ecstasy”. In truth, it’s a work of many parts, and this was very much an intentional aspect of Wolfrum’s creation. The libretto was entirely his own creation and draws upon ‘words from the Bible and plays of the people’, as the work’s subtitle makes clear. Cast in two parts of uneven length – the first of roughly an hour’s duration, the second a shade under forty minutes -  the oratorio requires large orchestral and mixed choral forces alongside no less than five vocal soloists. Musically, Wolfrum’s writing possesses individuality, despite the fact that the influences of his musical heroes and contemporaries – Wagner, Liszt, Brahms, Strauss, Mahler, Reger, Humperdinck and Busoni amongst them – can be detected. What could be unexpected for today’s listener is that Wolfrum found room alongside his use of Wagnerian leitmotifs in this Gesamtkunstwerk or total work of art for folk music, Christmas carols and other music that the public of his time would have recognised, played and sung at Christmas.

This, no doubt, was a significant factor in the early success of the oratorio, often performed under the composer’s direction. It still is not appreciated often enough that Elgar’s early reputation was largely forged in Germany, and he acknowledged Wolfum’s influence upon his own oratorio, The Kingdom. In 1901, barely three years after its composition, Elgar directed a performance of Ein Weihnachtsmysterium in Worcester.

The curious might want to investigate the live world premiere recording, made at performances in 2019, online first: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d94Q5A6exIw

 The driving force behind the re-emergence of Wolfrum’s festive offering is undoubtedly the conductor Stefan Vanselow. He not only navigates this multi-faceted curiosity with a sense of purpose and surety of hand, but also manages to bring a sense of imaginative wonder to proceedings so that the recording is more than just the document of a musical curiosity. Additionally, he provides a comprehensive essay in the accompanying booklet, which also includes the sung text, an English translation is available via a QR code. The Nordwestdeutsche Philharmonie supplemented by the Philipp-Wolfrum-Ensemble play with dedication, whilst the Hamelner Kantorei and Jugendkantorei Hameln provide choral singing of warmth and undoubted enthusiasm. The contributions of Joo-Anne Bitter (soprano), Anne Schuldt (alto), Paweł Brożek (tenor) Martin Berner and Hans Christian Hinz (baritones) round out the forces with performances that do them credit.

If you are searching for something different to listen to this Christmas, look no further than Wolfrum’s Ein Weihnachtsmysterium. Merry Christmas, one and all!

CD Review: London Nights (Franziska Lee, piano) Capriccio C3010

Capriccio clearly appreciate that the largely German-trained Korean pianist Franziska Lee is an artist worth nurturing. It is also evident that Franziska Lee has a particular penchant for twentieth century repertoire. Following a well-received recording of French composers, the present release sees her attention turned to five English composers. The next release will focus on Italian composers including Gian Francesco Malipiero, Luciano Berio, Luigi Dallapiccola, Bruno Bettinelli and Ildebrando Pizzetti. Certainly, this format of ‘national’ repertoire collections is distinctive. It has the potential to keep going as long as Lee has the imagination and determination to forego mainstream repertoire in favour of interesting and less travelled paths.

Someone usually very knowledgeable about music once asked me – somewhat tongue in cheek, I hope! – “Is there such a thing as English music after Purcell?” The answer, of course, is yes. Were I asked to produce a single recording to illustrate the point, then Franziska Lee’s release would do the job admirably. Even today in the UK, the keyboard music of the composers included here is too little appreciated and played.

Michael Tippett’s Sonata no.1, in the revised 1942 version of the 1935-37 composition, is played straight, without any hint of anachronism. Tippett, being Tippett, of course takes the listener on a journey that has some serious things to say. At times perhaps there might have greater economy of expression, particularly in the first movement’s flights of fancy, but it is good this was not achieved at the expense of an infusion of jazz and blues influences. Franziska Lee traverses the range of expressions easily and clearly delights in the opportunities this affords her to show her mettle. But is it a sonata I will return to often? I am not so sure I will – it just lacks enough focus to make it a really compelling experience in performance.

Arnold Bax’s single-movement Sonata no.1 in F sharp minor, if anything, has Lee taking things to another level. Her playing takes Bax’s instruction of “Not too fast and very decisive in rhythm” at its word. I have long enjoyed Ashley Wass’ playing of Bax’s piano output (Naxos), but in this sonata Lee puts up a creditable challenge, even if Wass wins the head-to-head by a whisker, as his interpretation sounds just a little more spontaneous.
There’s more humour in Benjamin Britten’s Holiday Diary, 1934, than is often the case in his music. It is a characteristic that Lee emphasises wilfully. Overtly programmatic in character, Lee’s playing captures they boyish fun in these early vignettes that take you to the Suffolk coastline.

John Ireland’s Ballad of London Nights paints the scene of a rather bawdy and occasionally discordant nocturnal stroll through England’s smog-filled capital, taking the listener from a Soho club to the rather more refined environs of Chelsea. That we have this score at all is down to a lucky find in a desk drawer after Ireland’s death.  Franziska Lee’s super-confident realisation of this 7 minute score takes it almost beyond the confines of time and a single instrument, such is the palette of colours that she employs with the deftest of touches.

The middle movement of Frank Bridge’s Three Sketches (1906), Rosemary, is the best known of the three pieces. A passable recording of it is included in Lotusland, an interesting anthology of English piano music, by pianist Kumiko Ida on the Japanese Mittenwald label. Franziska Lee plays all three sketches with moving tenderness. They fully illustrate the romantic air that pervaded Bridge’s writing before he embarked on a more radical and modernistic path.

The recording sound quality is excellent, with the Steingraeber instrument captured faithfully whether in the most delicate passages or in forte. It is a shame that the liner notes do not extend beyond a biography of the pianist in English, German and Korean. Given the repertoire, I suspect that many prospective listeners would find an introduction a useful addition to an otherwise excellent and most recommendable recording. Maybe Capriccio could seek to plug this gap within future releases.

CD Review: Enescu / Lipatti / Dinescu songs (Markus Schäfer, tenor; Mihai Ungureanu, piano) Dreyer Gaido CD21132

This release, titled Hommage à Dinu Lipatti, aims to present a new viewpoint on the great Romanian pianist. Lipatti was also a prolific composer and his output has been slowly achieving more attention. This is thanks to a few historical recordings of his piano compositions by Lipatti himself, or more recent accounts by Mario Vincenzi (Dynamic), Matei Varga (Sono Luminus). My recommendation, however, is to head straight for Luiza Borac’s 2CD set (Avie). The present release is the first time on disc for one of Lipatti’s two song cycles, presented in the context of two compatriots, George Enescu and Violeta Dinescu.

                                           

Enescu’s Sept Chansons de Clément Marot is the only work on this release to have been recorded before that is commonly available.
 
In writing notes on these songs for the Enescu Society in London, I observed that, “In 1898 Enescu’s style was still developing, but when he wrote Sept Chansons de Clément Marot a decade later it had fully matured. Having heard “a little improvised mélodie by Enescu dashed off in Fauré's class” at the Paris Conservatoire, classmate composer Charles Koechlin stated “George Enescu has an affinity with the French language that we natives might dream of.” Clément Marot (1496-1544) was a rhétoriqueur whose style combines stilted language with allegories. Enescu's genius was to take Marot’s texts and evoke a sixteenth-century French spirit without recourse to laboured pastiche, even if the piano emulates a lute occasionally. Each song possesses an individual character.” This led Enescu to claim that he thought of them as a collected set, rather than a cycle in the strict sense, as Jörg Jewanski refers to them in his notes accompanying this release.
 
There are recordings of worthy of attention going back to Enescu himself, who accompanied the Swiss-born soprano Sophie Wyss (Symposium Records 1409). Though Wyss’ occasionally unsecure pitch slightly takes away from the whole, this is balanced by the range of character and temperament that she brings to the individual songs. Enescu’s playing has a luminescent lightness of touch and varied about it that proves most involving. Canadian contralto Marie-Nicole Lemieux gives a rather more pared back reading with Daniel Blumenthal (Naïve), but her subtle vibrato is used to knowing effect. Ileana Cotrubas and Geoffrey Parsons (Chandos), Sarah Walker with Roger Vignoles (Unicorn-Kanchana) and Elena Mosuc accompanied by Sabine Vatin (Arte Nova, recorded using the composer’s own baby grand piano in Bucharest’s Enescu Museum) provide interpretations that at times seem intent in taking these songs beyond the confines of the duo form, with nods to the operatic experience of the singers concerned. The same can also be said of the recording by the Romanian baritone Dan Iordăchescu, who is partnered by Valentin Gheorghiu on Electrecord in an idiomatic reading that is dramatic yet full of vocal sensitivity. If each of these recordings miss one aspect of the set, it is that the text of each song infers suitability to either a male or female voice, as the soprano Nelly Miricioiu has observed. Perhaps a record label could seek to realise this approach one day.
 
The view taken by Markus Schäfer and Mihai Ungureanu on this latest release is markedly different from its rivals – though perhaps Marie-Nicole Lemieux is the closest to sharing their vision. Schäfer and Ungureanu remove almost every vestige of emotion from their performance, minded perhaps of the courtly propriety that shaped expressions of love in Clément Marot’s world. Rather that extrovert emotions, the focus is very much on the nuances evident within Schäfer’s voice, which is not to say that textual inferences are exploited. What is immediately evident is the evenness of tempi taken across the first four songs, which is at odds with the score and the other available versions. At times, in Estreines à Anne for example, the tempo is perhaps a touch too deliberate – Enescu livens things up considerably, as do other accompanists. The humour inflected by Dan Iordăchescu in Aux damoyselles and Changeons propos is absent. Although Schäfer and Ungureanu are convincing in other songs, their performance of Du conflict en douleur fails to fully hit the mark (well, for me at least that’s the case). Other people’s opinions may vary, and should that be the case, then that’s all to the good.
 
Regarding Lipatti’s composition style, Camelia Pavlenco has written, “His particular style brings together a mix of Romanian folklore elements, post-impressionist, neoclassical and neo-baroque echoes in a modern fusion, synchronized with the paths of his contemporaries. His music is sensitive, serene and unmistakable. Five songs on poems by Paul Verlaine, op. 9, are part of a rich thesaurus of Romanian songs written on French verses.” Maybe my lack of awareness of this repertoire inclines me to more receptive to the approach that Markus Schäfer and Mihai Ungureanu take, though the humour of Green is largely absent. The texts are projected clearly and the piano part appears one that would have suited Lipatti’s own playing style. Ungueranu’s innate understanding of Romanian musical forms such as the sorrowful doină and folk-imbued dance joc bring out much needed character in bitter-sweet longing of dor, all of which are likely to be a revelation to listeners unfamiliar with the core characteristics of Romanian repertoire.
 
The Four Melodies, previously recorded by tenor Valentin Theodorian with pianist Lisette Georgescu (Electrecord – but never available on CD), were premiered by the composer accompanying the long-lived French tenor Hugues Cuénod, whose tone was similar to Schäfer's. This set presents some of Lipatti’s most searching writing. It’s highly personal music as well, and perhaps indicates where his compositions might have ventured had he lived to write more. More than in the other set of songs, both roles are equal in their partnership; recording shows singer and pianist meeting the challenge of the work head on.

 
Violeta Dinescu’s sixteen minute long single-movement song tribute to Lipatti concludes the recital. Dinescu, like many of her compatriots, is a composer too-little-known outside Romania. Thankfully though there is a slowly growing discography of her works. In this work, the song tableau is given structure by the accompaniment – which contains its own references to the writing of Lipatti and Enescu. There is a vocal challenge in the writing, though undoubtedly the German translation of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy helps Schäfer deliver a performance that deserves wider appreciation. As so often the case for a first recording, one wonders what other performers will eventually bring to the piece, but for now this will do very nicely.
 
The recording places Schäfer’s voice forward of Ungureanu’s piano, which given his slender, lyrical tenor tone is no bad thing. Ungureanu’s playing is captured faithfully too. With a playing time of barely an hour, so it’s a pity that more material is not provided to fill out the experience still further. Enescu’s songs on verses by Carmen Sylva, Fernand Gregh, Jules Lemaitre and Sully Prudhomme might have provided rich pickings in this regard. Although recorded by Dan Iordăchescu (Electrecord), they are still all-but-unknown outside Romania and demand wider exposure. Maybe, being an enterprising label, Dreyer Gaido could consider them for a further release. My only other quibble is that texts and translations are not included in the booklet. Fortunately, Jörg Jewanski’s note is highly descriptive of the works and incorporates some insights from the performers.
 
A few rather personal niggles aside, there's no denying the seriousness of intent behind this enterprising recording. For anyone wanting to explore some lesser-known yet finely crafted song-writing in performances that have to be taken on their own terms, this release is recommended.