
Brahms: Piano Concerto No. 2; Handel Variations / Vogt, Royal Northern Sinfonia
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REVIEWS:
Together with the Royal Northern Sinfonia, Lars Vogtâin his fifth year heading the orchestra across the shore from Newcastleâgot to record the Brahms piano concertos for Ondine. Anyone who reads a chamber orchestraâs and Brahmsâ name on the same CD cover and might briefly flinch, fearing undernourished, pseudo-historically informed performances with an economically expedient small bandâconducted from the piano at that (another couple thousands in savings!)âneed not worry.
Yes, this performance of the B-flat major concerto is notably a child of our times: It is svelte Brahms and transparent too, but still with plenty of muscle, which isnât on display throughout, but comes to the fore where needed. Compared to the kind of Brahms from even just a few decades ago, this is purged of some excess and trimmed of fat, but it comes to a healthy halt before turning anorexic.
In and of itself thatâs hardly enough to compete with the innumerable splendid performances out there, historic and more recent. Buchbinder/Harnoncourt sounds more traditional and celebrates Brahms with the (expected?) breadthâand very tastefully at that. The Northern Sinfonia canât touch the wonderfully dark sound of the Czech Philharmonic with Ivan Moravec under JirĂ BelohlĂĄvek, which sounds like an old oak chest smells. But then, no other orchestra can. The way Eugen Jochum custom-tailors the Berlin Philharmonicâs playing around that of his soloist, Emil Gilels, also remains unsurpassed.
But it speaks to Vogtâwho doesnât shy away from a robust and stern touch in the outer movementsâand his Sinfonia that no amount of comparison makes this recording appear any less attractive. The fresh-sounding orchestra has a natural forward drive but isnât hectic or jittery. Nor do you hear any exaggerations or the type of self-consciously unsubtle ânuanceâ that often passes for interpretation these days. This recordingâas does that of Marc-AndrĂ© Hamelin with Andrew Litton, to mention a recent and also excellent accountâgoes to show that good playing without ostentatious fingerprints need not end up sounding anonymous.
In the olden LP and CD days, the Handel Variations on this disc might have been considered the filler. In the streaming-age, playtime has become meaninglessâand in any case, this isnât an afterthought; interpretively, it might well be considered the lead attraction. There is a certain voracity with which Vogt bites into the piece, with a huge bandwidth of attack: from buttery soft to glassy hard. Gentle and gruff touches coexist peacefully; similarly, there are pompous and wildly colorful moments to be had. You can almost hear an orchestra perform behind it. This is more attention-grabbing (in the best sense) than the articulate sheen of the magnificent-yet-slightly-forgettable Murray Perahia (Sony), yet more coherently done than the wild-and-wilful Olga Kernâs take (Harmonia Mundi). In fact, it might just be the new reference alongside Jonathan Plowright (BIS), Leon Fleisher (Sony), and Garrick Ohlsson (Hyperion).
â ClassicsToday (Jens F. Laurson)
Vogtâs approach is robust, shapely and highly rhythmical. He mitigates Brahmsâs habitual textural thickness by refusing to pedal through staccato passages. Together with the orchestra, a marvellous plasticity of line is maintained throughout. This pliant rubato is the bedrock of their realisation of the musicâs passionate ardour and vast sense of space. What a pleasure to encounter Brahms, so often interpreted as relentlessly earnest, here captured with his eyes brimming with joy.
â Gramophone
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REVIEWS:
Together with the Royal Northern Sinfonia, Lars Vogtâin his fifth year heading the orchestra across the shore from Newcastleâgot to record the Brahms piano concertos for Ondine. Anyone who reads a chamber orchestraâs and Brahmsâ name on the same CD cover and might briefly flinch, fearing undernourished, pseudo-historically informed performances with an economically expedient small bandâconducted from the piano at that (another couple thousands in savings!)âneed not worry.
Yes, this performance of the B-flat major concerto is notably a child of our times: It is svelte Brahms and transparent too, but still with plenty of muscle, which isnât on display throughout, but comes to the fore where needed. Compared to the kind of Brahms from even just a few decades ago, this is purged of some excess and trimmed of fat, but it comes to a healthy halt before turning anorexic.
In and of itself thatâs hardly enough to compete with the innumerable splendid performances out there, historic and more recent. Buchbinder/Harnoncourt sounds more traditional and celebrates Brahms with the (expected?) breadthâand very tastefully at that. The Northern Sinfonia canât touch the wonderfully dark sound of the Czech Philharmonic with Ivan Moravec under JirĂ BelohlĂĄvek, which sounds like an old oak chest smells. But then, no other orchestra can. The way Eugen Jochum custom-tailors the Berlin Philharmonicâs playing around that of his soloist, Emil Gilels, also remains unsurpassed.
But it speaks to Vogtâwho doesnât shy away from a robust and stern touch in the outer movementsâand his Sinfonia that no amount of comparison makes this recording appear any less attractive. The fresh-sounding orchestra has a natural forward drive but isnât hectic or jittery. Nor do you hear any exaggerations or the type of self-consciously unsubtle ânuanceâ that often passes for interpretation these days. This recordingâas does that of Marc-AndrĂ© Hamelin with Andrew Litton, to mention a recent and also excellent accountâgoes to show that good playing without ostentatious fingerprints need not end up sounding anonymous.
In the olden LP and CD days, the Handel Variations on this disc might have been considered the filler. In the streaming-age, playtime has become meaninglessâand in any case, this isnât an afterthought; interpretively, it might well be considered the lead attraction. There is a certain voracity with which Vogt bites into the piece, with a huge bandwidth of attack: from buttery soft to glassy hard. Gentle and gruff touches coexist peacefully; similarly, there are pompous and wildly colorful moments to be had. You can almost hear an orchestra perform behind it. This is more attention-grabbing (in the best sense) than the articulate sheen of the magnificent-yet-slightly-forgettable Murray Perahia (Sony), yet more coherently done than the wild-and-wilful Olga Kernâs take (Harmonia Mundi). In fact, it might just be the new reference alongside Jonathan Plowright (BIS), Leon Fleisher (Sony), and Garrick Ohlsson (Hyperion).
â ClassicsToday (Jens F. Laurson)
Vogtâs approach is robust, shapely and highly rhythmical. He mitigates Brahmsâs habitual textural thickness by refusing to pedal through staccato passages. Together with the orchestra, a marvellous plasticity of line is maintained throughout. This pliant rubato is the bedrock of their realisation of the musicâs passionate ardour and vast sense of space. What a pleasure to encounter Brahms, so often interpreted as relentlessly earnest, here captured with his eyes brimming with joy.
â Gramophone
Description
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REVIEWS:
Together with the Royal Northern Sinfonia, Lars Vogtâin his fifth year heading the orchestra across the shore from Newcastleâgot to record the Brahms piano concertos for Ondine. Anyone who reads a chamber orchestraâs and Brahmsâ name on the same CD cover and might briefly flinch, fearing undernourished, pseudo-historically informed performances with an economically expedient small bandâconducted from the piano at that (another couple thousands in savings!)âneed not worry.
Yes, this performance of the B-flat major concerto is notably a child of our times: It is svelte Brahms and transparent too, but still with plenty of muscle, which isnât on display throughout, but comes to the fore where needed. Compared to the kind of Brahms from even just a few decades ago, this is purged of some excess and trimmed of fat, but it comes to a healthy halt before turning anorexic.
In and of itself thatâs hardly enough to compete with the innumerable splendid performances out there, historic and more recent. Buchbinder/Harnoncourt sounds more traditional and celebrates Brahms with the (expected?) breadthâand very tastefully at that. The Northern Sinfonia canât touch the wonderfully dark sound of the Czech Philharmonic with Ivan Moravec under JirĂ BelohlĂĄvek, which sounds like an old oak chest smells. But then, no other orchestra can. The way Eugen Jochum custom-tailors the Berlin Philharmonicâs playing around that of his soloist, Emil Gilels, also remains unsurpassed.
But it speaks to Vogtâwho doesnât shy away from a robust and stern touch in the outer movementsâand his Sinfonia that no amount of comparison makes this recording appear any less attractive. The fresh-sounding orchestra has a natural forward drive but isnât hectic or jittery. Nor do you hear any exaggerations or the type of self-consciously unsubtle ânuanceâ that often passes for interpretation these days. This recordingâas does that of Marc-AndrĂ© Hamelin with Andrew Litton, to mention a recent and also excellent accountâgoes to show that good playing without ostentatious fingerprints need not end up sounding anonymous.
In the olden LP and CD days, the Handel Variations on this disc might have been considered the filler. In the streaming-age, playtime has become meaninglessâand in any case, this isnât an afterthought; interpretively, it might well be considered the lead attraction. There is a certain voracity with which Vogt bites into the piece, with a huge bandwidth of attack: from buttery soft to glassy hard. Gentle and gruff touches coexist peacefully; similarly, there are pompous and wildly colorful moments to be had. You can almost hear an orchestra perform behind it. This is more attention-grabbing (in the best sense) than the articulate sheen of the magnificent-yet-slightly-forgettable Murray Perahia (Sony), yet more coherently done than the wild-and-wilful Olga Kernâs take (Harmonia Mundi). In fact, it might just be the new reference alongside Jonathan Plowright (BIS), Leon Fleisher (Sony), and Garrick Ohlsson (Hyperion).
â ClassicsToday (Jens F. Laurson)
Vogtâs approach is robust, shapely and highly rhythmical. He mitigates Brahmsâs habitual textural thickness by refusing to pedal through staccato passages. Together with the orchestra, a marvellous plasticity of line is maintained throughout. This pliant rubato is the bedrock of their realisation of the musicâs passionate ardour and vast sense of space. What a pleasure to encounter Brahms, so often interpreted as relentlessly earnest, here captured with his eyes brimming with joy.
â Gramophone























